Hidden 2 mos ago Post by Glitter Guppy
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Glitter Guppy Books and Cleverness (And Emots)

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For what felt like the ninety-ninth time today, Eryn wriggled out from under the elevated concrete slab and propped herself up on her elbows, pulling out the broken binocs she’d swiped from the trash three buildings over. She closed one eye over the cracked eyepiece and dragged a hopeless, practiced gaze across Abilene’s surface with the other.
Nothing new. No ships. No way out.
Oh my god. What a surprise. She just couldn’t even.

Disappointment had died days ago for her. Couldn’t even muster annoyance anymore as she dropped the binocs back on the tarp next to her and shimmied back under the makeshift slab shelter like some kind of crab returning to its shell. It wasn’t comfortable, but finding the concrete outcrop atop one of the only three story buildings in this dusty outpost had been a much needed shot of luck for her. The area was undisturbed, playing wall-less closet to a collection of old mining gear long past its expiration date, and with the way the slab had shifted over the top of the building, it offered her a vantage point without risk of being seen. Not a bad protection from any elements, either. From there, laying on her stomach with binocs in hand, she could track anything coming into Abilene from land or sky, and track she did.

So far, the only thing even remotely interesting going or coming past the town’s edge was the young couple sneaking off to make out undisturbed every other night.

Stupid teenagers.
She stared up at the damp concrete above her, running a finger across the multiple slashes in the arm of her leather jacket. Traced how wide and jagged each one was. Felt the dried blood still flaking off the leather under her touch. Brushed at the thick scar marks now knitted into her flesh.
Remembered the screams of her old captain.

Really stupid teenagers. They knew what was out there, and they still snuck out.
Not like she actually cared, though. Not her problem. They’ll die or they won’t. No one here mattered unless they were a way off this rock, and Abilene definitely wasn’t bustling with off-world activity.

“Not. My. Problem,” she breathed quietly as she scratched another line into the tally above her head with a bit of metal, a shower of concrete dusting her like snow.
Thirteen days.
Thirteen karking days and no end in sight.
A very, very small part of her had hoped at the beginning that whatever crew had survived and taken ‘The Wyvern’ would realize she was still alive and come back for her. They’d seen her during the chaos, she knew a few had.
After day four, that hope fizzled out, replaced by vivid, violent scenarios of what she’d do if she ever saw any of them again.

A rogue gust of wind rushed over her hiding spot, toying with the edge of the tarp she hadn’t dragged under the shelter. The sound drew thoughts of the instant noodle packages she’d stolen from one of the kitchens down the street, and the way her stomach growled, there was no denying it.
Time for dinner.

The one problem with this slab-shelter thing? You couldn’t sit up. Or, it would have been a problem for someone else.
Eryn contorted like a worm folding in on itself, her flexible Sorrusian bones briefly turning her into something out of a horror film as she reached around her feet to grab one of the brightly colored noodle packages.
It was gone in under two minutes, raw and crunchy, and the tiny heating pack included for cooking was activated and tucked into the breast of her shirt. The tiny bloom of warmth felt nice.
Eryn tucked the ripped packages into the stack at the edge of the shelter, stacking the rocks atop them like paperweights just in case of wind, and flipped herself back around to war-crawl towards the outcrop once more, enjoying the heat of the spice at the back of her throat. Felt better than dust. Tasted better than dust, which was all Abilene had to offer her up here.

Soon, she was perched, binocs in hand for the hundredth time today. Maybe this time. Maybe this time, someone would come.
She panned down out of habitual movement. There they were, sneaking out again. Stupid. Ugh.

Maybe this time.
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Hidden 2 mos ago Post by deegee
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The man who had adopted the surname ‘Fel’ sat heavily at the console behind the copilot’s seat. For the moment at least, he was alone, though he wouldn’t have put it past Jet, or hell, any of the folks aboard the UA, to pop into the cockpit to see how the conversation with Abilene went. He could’ve locked the door. But no. He’d never locked Wrench out of anywhere. Jet neither. Not even his cabin. He wasn’t about to start now. He breathed for a few moments, until the navacomp alert sounded. This was it. Stretching toward the main console, he cut in the sunlight engines, and right on schedule, Abilene sprang into reality, filling the viewport. The grey-green rock was barely the size of an average class-Zee lunar mass. He breathed deep, collecting himself. Keyed in the ident tag. A male voice, sounding very far away, badly static-laden. Fel boosted the signal, knowing there was little they could do, planetside. The atmo was thin, which did them favours when it came to broadcasting comms, but their tech level was so low, he knew this was as good as it was liable to get. The voice got stronger, closer.

“...dentified vessel, state your business, over.”

”It’s Fel. Unfair Advantage. I’d give you some hull registration number but we both know it’d be a bunch of numbers I pulled out of a hat. Need to talk to Abilene.”

There was a long pause. Long enough for Fel to start thinking they had lost the call. The ever-present comms ionization and ever-present static, like waves crashing on a beach someplace warm, didn’t help.

”Wait.”

He acknowledged, but the line had already gone dead. Now the waiting was killing him, and he started to turn the words over and over in his mind, which was usually when he ended up eating them. But just when he believed they had switched off, her voice, aged and weighted with experience and tough as nails, pierced the cockpit. The image was poor, but he could make out her shock of white hair, braided.

”Galdaart Fel, you doleadote Scrabjack – didn’t think I’d see your ugly mug around these parts anytime soon. What in the seven suns are you doing in my yard, son?”

”Good to see you, too, Abilene. And don’t go handing my thrusters to me. If you’re half the Harpy I took you for, you’ve already heard that someone paid Lotho Minor a visit. a pause for effect Figured I’d bring your druk back to you. Sure as a mudscuffer’s pant-leg ain’t worth nothin’ to nobody else. Now… you ain’t interested, I can just…” he mimes reaching to shut off the viewscreen.

”No! No.. we can deal. So that was you, handed the Buckets their daily dose of poodoo up the recharge port, huh? she cackled, devolving into fits of coughing, before coalescing into a wet chuckle. ”I would’ve paid good creds to see Kara’s face when you pulled the rug out from under him, and aboard his own rig, too. Seems I had you pegged wrong, kid. Never in the Typhoidic Nebula thought it’d be you bringing my world back to me.”

”You still got what we discussed, last time we was face to face?”

He couldn’t make it out too well, what with the bad picture, but her voice told him she was smiling as she replied. ”See you in the world, kid.” She killed the transmission, letting him eat static.

“Yeah. Yeah…” He killed the comms, and got up, transferring to his usual seat, and angled the UA toward the thick depression in the moon’s surface that was known locally as ‘Walden’s Scar’ and marked the closest visual landmark to the Abilene settlement. The thin atmosphere made travelling planetbound easy, and Fel spotted the settlement more than thirty seconds out at their current rate of descent. He cut thrust, and pulled in low, over the settlement, the cluster of small buildings battered by the UA’s repulsors, moving slow enough that it would be unmistakable to anyone there that the ship had arrived, and then banked South by a little over four miles, setting down atop a low rise, a steep canyon drop at their backs. It was a good spot. They’d see anyone coming, and their back was protected by an almost impossible climb.
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Hidden 2 mos ago Post by Zoie Hart
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Zoie Hart That Girl

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The freighter hung suspended in the blackness of space. A silent beast, against the backdrop of a million distant stars. No sound, just the subtle hum of its internal systems and the loud snoring made by its lonely passenger. The silence continued only to be disturbed by the ship's comm system. Who in the galaxy would be contacting him? The old man pressed his bare feet to the cold metal, unbothered by it, as he made his way toward the comm panel. He flipped a few switches, seeing a very familiar redhead. He didn’t have time to deal with her mess. He should have left her stranded on Coruscant. The ex-agent was getting to be a problem, however, she had a knack for finding things. He let her spill about the heist, the story lined up on what he heard on the holonet about a star destroyer. What did she do? Maybe he had trained her a bit too much. Kolto?! Hard to pass on a whole crate plus a med tech to boot. The old trooper took a moment but eventually agreed to the extraction and the comm channel was cut.

Wyler leaned back into the chair and sighed. No telling where that girl ended up and how she got aboard that star destroyer. No matter, the girl could handle herself. She would have made a fine trooper back in the day, he thought to himself. He huffed, checked the internal systems and decided that he can use some grub.


Somehow, Aellyn managed to find herself in the cockpit. The pilot had just killed the comms and moved back over to his seat. Perfect. She slid into the seat next to comms. “Better keep us steady. I mean, don’t want us to die after we made it this far.” Aellyn grinned toward the pilot as she sat back, letting him do his thing. The planetoid came into view. Leaning forward to get a better look, the place wasn’t at all what she had pictured. Kark. She wasn’t sure what was worse, this bare minimum of a planet or the junk one. Holding on as the ship banked, then soon settling a few clicks away from the settlement. “That was better than the last one. I’m going to pry on the settlement a bit. ” Not at all what she was going to do. She plugged her datapad into the comm panel. This ship needed better security. Easily finding the coordinates, she sent an encrypted message out to her contact. She hoped he would be here in time before the captain made his drop.

Fel returned Aellyn’s smile. He genuinely liked piloting, and there was something special about a Corellian craft. Something forgiving about the way they moved that evoked the feel of a craft responding to in-atmo input. Some pilots hated that degree of inaccuracy. Fel revelled in it. The ship somehow felt as though it was moving more naturally. In atmo itself, was another matter. Most pilots felt that CEC freighters flew like cattle-cars in-atmo, but again, Fel loved it. The amount of feedback that every creak, every groan, every rattle and shake of the airframe told him what to expect, how to react. He let it guide him. Every control surface and response was dealt with lovingly, gently. And when they touched down, if anything the smile was even bigger. ”Sensors are all yours. Not sure how much they’ll be able to tell you ‘bout Abilene. They’re pretty low-tech. Just stay off the holonet, ok? I’d rather not pop up on anyone’s ident-tracker.”

Jet sidled into the cockpit, casually bracing himself hanging off the doorframe, allowing his weight to shift with the ship. A comforting, familiar feeling reminding him of the many years he had spent flying around from one battlefront to another, and from one base to another. He stared through the glass and watched as Fel did his thing. An ace pilot if he ever knew one, and he had known plenty.

“Got it…No Holo.” Aellyn pulled her datapad from the comm panel. She got what she wanted. Now for the wait game and hoped nothing else went wrong.


The trooper was explaining his last mission, something about a blockade and medicine when his comm panel lit up. He knew who and what it was. Pausing his briefing he read the coded message. Urgent? Wyler scoffed at the message.
“Something wrong Wyler?” A voice from the holo mentioned.
“No, Need to help a….friend. He held at the last word. Did he really think of her as that?
“Do you require assistance?”
“No…should be simple…I’ll send a message when I’m on my way to you. Wyler, out.” The trooper killed the comms. He then stood and slid into the pilot seat, punching the coordinates into the panel. The freighter jumped to hyperspace, heading toward Abilene and its unbeknown inhabitants.

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Hidden 2 mos ago Post by Archazen
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Jet slapped the panelling above the doorway, a gesture signaling he had tasks to attend to. He gave Fel a firm nod, accompanied by a smug grin. He hoped the spacer picked up on the pride he felt and the unspoken confidence he had in him as a pilot. Turning on his heel, Jet began his trek through the ship, making his way toward the cargo hold where he had stored the crates from their last escapade.

As his boots echoed through the corridors, Jet's mind wandered to how quickly things had shifted. Just a few hours ago, the trio was stealthily descending into Lotho Minor, aiming for a quick and quiet operation. Now, they were on approach to Abilene with nearly a full crew. Jet shook his head softly, a grunt and a smirk escaping him. Life out here had a way of changing at lightning speed, but looking back, he wouldn't alter a single moment. The mission had been successful—they got what they came for, and everyone made it back in one piece. Even though things had gotten a bit dicey… All’s well that ends well.

He grasped the handle of one of the two crates he had stored earlier and pulled it out, walking over to a nearby bench. Popping open the crate, he found that he was lucky with his choice; the emitter lay there, ready to be assembled into a single cohesive unit. Jet sighed and muttered under his breath, "Alright, let's see what we've got here..." He laid out the various components on the bench, mentally mapping out the assembly process. It was a complicated piece of tech, no doubt about it, but he'd tackled worse.

Elsewhere in the U.A., Zane was taking the time to alter his “acquired” uniform. Now that he was no longer trying to impersonate an Imperial tech, it seemed only logical that he didn’t want to be seen with the markings on his jumpsuit. He found himself a quiet part of the ship - well, quiet-er, given that this place creaked and shuddered more than some of the buildings back home. Once he was by himself, he slipped the jumpsuit off and used some of the tools in his technician’s pack, improvising their use to remove the patches and identifying marks from the garment. By the time he was through, it had become nothing but a dull grey jumpsuit. Once he slid it back on, he left the top half unzipped, tying the sleeves around his waist after buckling the toolbelt back on. After all, it was still useful for carrying certain items, like the holdout pistol and the tech’s kit. Even if the boy didn’t know how to use the variety of tools, they could still come in handy. So could the patches, which is why he stowed them in one of the pouches on his belt - in case he ever needed to impersonate an Imperial again.

So, now Zane looked like a slightly more at-ease version of himself, with the white, long-sleeved undershirt and tied-off jumper making him seem more easy-going. He hated the fact that he still hadn’t addressed some of the wounds on his body. There were a few spots on the pristine white shirt that had already been made dingy by the open sores, but the kid wasn’t a doctor. So, for the time being, he just went about his business, trusting there would come a time where he could get it all taken care of.

On his way back to the common area, Zane stepped out of his hiding spot in the work-bay area into the central corridor, and heard Jet going through some of the crates within the cargo area. Thinking back to his previous job of “inventorying” the bags, he peeked inside to see if the big guy was going back over his work, instead finding that he was opening up one of the crates that they had heisted from the Imperial ship. Curious to figure out what was inside, he slid into the cargo bay and craned his head to the side to watch what Jet was getting himself into, quietly-observing his actions as the elder gentleman went on.

As Zane stepped inside, Jet gave him a wide smile, he couldn’t help but notice how the jumpsuit look suited him, reminding him of himself back in the day. “You wanna help me piece this one together, kid?” He nodded his head towards the collection of parts, leaning on his palms.

Folding his hand behind his head and scratching the back of his neck, the kid gave a nonchalant shrug, ”Uh, sure man. This seems like it’ll be more of a two-person job anyway, huh?”

Jet stuck his hand deep into his pocket, searching around a little while before ripping out a hydrospanner. “You’ll need yourself one of these, here,” he said, holding out the tool toward the lad. “We’ll get started with the base unit.”

Zane nodded, taking the tool into his hand and deftly flipping through its different settings. As a scrapper, he’d used a ‘spanner several times to disassemble and modify certain items, so it wasn’t really anything new. Except this tool seemed to be in much better shape than what he was used to. Once he was done, he moved around the crate to start working alongside Jet to get everything done, waiting to hear his instructions.

“The base unit keeps the whole thing still, stops it from shaking itself to bits, basically, Make sure those bolts are tight or we’re gunna have a problem.” He said, pointing to the bolts in question. He picked up the power core, handling it with a steady and practiced hand. “This’uns a tricky one, let me.”

The youth nodded, making sure to patiently observe the seasoned technician’s steady hands as he began to work on the unit. Zane took care to move in where the housing was on the emitter itself, using the ‘spanner to ratchet the bolts into place and ensure they were nice and tight while also doing his best to stay out of Jet’s way. He felt his thin muscles getting tired quickly from the effort, but kept going to make certain he was doing the proper job for his “instructor”.

Seeing Zane work made Jet's heart sink a little, it had been a while since he had the chance to work on something with someone, the last person being Nova. His mind wandered a little about her, wondering where she was, if she was okay, if he'd ever see her again… snapping back to reality, he picked up the field generator modules and placed them in front of Zane, “Allign them up around the base–here” he said, pointing towards the base of the power core. “Make sure they're all aligned proper or our fields not gunna be worth a damn.” He smirked, giving a cheeky wink Zane’s way before getting to work connecting the control circuits. Now wasn't the time to teach the intricate ways the wiring needed to be done, it had to be right or the whole thing would simply fail.

Zane followed Jet’s instructions, his eyes laser-focused on where the technician was instructing him to align the mods as he took each of them and placed them along the cardinal points of the emitter’s frame, right near the base. It reminded him of his days in the field, taking apart radomes and projectors that had very similar structures. The modules seemed to click into place, allowing Zane to place the pins right through the holes at the head and base of their seats and secure them properly before dusting his hands off in satisfaction and looking back to Jet. ”Think that should do it, Chief…what’s next?”

Jet watched the kid work as he finished up with the modules, he took to machinations pretty damn quickly, Jet mused it must have been all that time deconstructing that helped him figure things out. He picked up the outer shell and began sliding it over the skeletal emitter they had constructed together. “You mind grabbing some remote detonators from storage–should be over there?” He indicated with a flick of his head. Lowering the shell down, he twisted it into the slots and tightened the last bolts.

”Uh, yeah…one sec!” Zane’s head swiveled about, trying to find where Jet was indicating. Rising from his haunches, he jogged over toward the shelves and moved a couple of items around until he came across the aforementioned detonators, which were in a labeled case marked with all sorts of hazardous signs. The kid popped the latches on it, looking inside to make sure they were within before securing it again and taking it under his arm back over to where Jet waited. Holding onto it, he gestured with a half-shrug with his carrying arm, ”Got ‘em!”

Jet eyed the completed emitter, a three-foot-tall marvel that would keep those feral creatures at bay. He wrapped his fingers around the emitter's legs and hoisted it onto his shoulder with a grunt, feeling the weight of the device. It was heavy, but manageable—just another challenge for him to overcome. Jet smirked to himself with confidence. He carried the emitter over to the offramp and set it down gently, making sure it was secure. With that done, he knew the crew would have one less thing to worry about.

The kid followed along, carrying the small case with a careful hand to where Jet had set the completed piece of tech near the off-ramp. His brows furrowed with a bit of confusion as he saw Jet sort of stop there. ”Wait…that’s all for now? I thought we needed to get this thing set up or whatevs?”

Jet turned to Zane, nodding at him softly. “Yeah, it'll need to be set up but wouldn't want that in here, I'm pretty good with this sort of stuff but kriff if I know what sort of crazy that'd set off on-board.” He ran his arm across his face, softly mopping up a few dregs of sweat. “Nah, just need to get them attached and jobs a good'un, for now.” He spoke, again pointing at the detonators cradled under Zane's arm. “You good getting them attached–Sure you've messed with explosives tons back on that scrap planet?”

Zane looked at the case, his eyes widening a bit in fear as he considered his past luck with excavating and the like - the particulars of which were…less than stellar, from his memory. Grinning sheepishly, he felt a little bit of a shake enter his voice as he tried to convince Jet of the benefits of working together on such a task, ”Uhm…actually…? I think you might wanna keep me as far away from these dets as possible, if I’m being honest. Or, if you think you could help me figure them out, I’ll know how to do it if it ever comes up again? That…would be great, thanks…”

The next hour or so, Zane listened intently as Jet patiently took the time to show him how to properly install the charges and rig them to the detonators, putting the youth’s mind at ease as they managed to expertly place them in a concealed position. The boy was able to learn a new skill, and “many hands made short work”, or so it seemed. By the time they were done, they had rigged the explosives, but Zane watched as Jet chose not to sync the remote to the charges themselves. Zane was a bit puzzled by the spacer’s choice, but didn’t want to put too much thought into it. Maybe there was something that the Captain had in mind when choosing to deal with this “Abilene” lady that was just beyond the boy’s understanding. He’d simply have to trust that Jet knew what he was doing.

The two of them finished up, and then walked back toward the common area of the ship to report back to the rest of the group, ready for the long day that they surely had ahead of them.
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Hidden 2 mos ago 1 mo ago Post by Glitter Guppy
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Glitter Guppy Books and Cleverness (And Emots)

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She was up and moving long before the arriving ship’s metal touched the ground, leaving behind a mess of tarps and empty noodle packages stuffed into a corner of her shelter-pipe.

Watching the aircraft break clouds overhead after such a long stretch of waiting felt like hope again as she slid nimbly down her planned escape route, tempering the rising bubble of relief and elation in her chest. Best not to get ahead of herself. She hadn’t even seen the thing up close yet, nothing to be relieved about until she was hidden inside.
If she could even get inside. Personal starships and smaller freighters were tougher to get into than the huge star liners or refugee transports. The bigger they flew, the more space to go unnoticed. Run-of-the-mill spacers were either paranoid with great security, or stupidly overconfident with none.
Hopefully, this crew was the latter. Guess she’d find out soon enough.

Still. It was a chance off this rock. That alone felt good enough.

Adjusting the black mask over the lower half of her face, Eryn hastily stuffed her dark greasy hair into her hood and pulled it up over her head, sticking to the shadows as she looked for her opening to join the sparse flow of beings along the main causeway. A handful of them were armed to the teeth, probably looking more intimidating than they actually were. Much like her old crew, actually. Overconfident and focused on personal glory. ‘Gotta look the part’ kind of people. One or two were wearing long necklaces with what looked like a giant tooth at the end.
The same kind of tooth she’d seen buried in the captain’s face as the rest of ‘The Wyvern’s crew scattered in every direction.
Eryn curled her lip in mild disgust at the amulets. Far too clean and way too white to be something they’d actually ripped from the skull of the creatures prowling outside the city limits. Probably bought them in souvenir shops or paid for them from crafters.

She took a moment to glance at the small datapad she’d swiped from a bar patron days ago, scrolling past various galaxy-wide bounty postings to the more local information available to all. And there it was, right at the top.
Wanted: Dead. Credits for intact creature heads. Make money protecting the colony! Prices negotiable based on size of head. [Active]

The whole reason ‘The Wyvern’ had landed here in the first place. Crowing about how it would be easy money, how they could taste the credit chits already, ‘we’ll make this colony worship us by the end of the day’, etc.
Karkin’ dumb lot o’ trash. But, trash was easy to fool, and easy to control if you knew how. No one bothered her after she dismembered the Mon Calamari galley ‘cook’ who’d attempted to throw hands after accusing her of stealing ‘more food than she was worth’. She displayed random bits of him outside the small corner of the cargo bay she’d claimed as her own, and never walked the ship without both weapons drawn.
Certainly didn’t make her popular, but Eryn wasn’t there for buddies and comradery.

She tucked the screen back into the small pack on her back, eying the passing armed ‘bigwigs’ as they clinked and clattered past her, bristling with the same measure of cocky attitude that had seen ‘The Wyvern’ crew to their deaths.
Idiots.
She joined them, pulling smoothly from the shadows and blending unnoticed into the lineup, matching their stride and their attitude.
See? Easy to fool.

Her hunch was right. They were headed towards the exit, and by the looks of the groups they were joining up with, they were there to hunt.
If she could tail them safely, they’d make fantastic bait for what lay outside the city, and with the beasts distracted by such a large party, she’d have a chance at making it to that ship without too much risk.
Hopefully.
Maybe.
It was plan-as-you-go, fly by the seat of your pants for now.
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Hidden 2 mos ago 2 mos ago Post by deegee
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“We want what he’s got. Don’t forget that. So don’t go to blowin’ up the ship. In fact, if we got to have his fireblasted ship after it’s all said ‘n done, I’d be fine about that. But don’t underestimate him, or forget what he is, neither.’ Someone from the assembled group of fifteen asked, the voice sounding like it was farther from the main group – mayhap one of Abilene’s hired guns – what he was, exactly. She scowled, scanning the faces for a source, but falling short. Pulling the wide brim hat off her headful of grey braids, she slapped the hat against her calf, letting the cloud of dust drop to the wooden flooring around her. ”A liar. A cheat, and a murderer. The reason your father raised you by his lonesome, Crim Kalpana!” she bellowed at a young man who was busying himself loading a rifle with vicious-looking hollow-tip rounds. ”And you there, Milla Olphen, he’s the reason your mother has to feel her way around your house, wearing a kerchief to cover her sightless eyes and rad-blasted scarring!” she called out, and pointed to an attractive young woman checking the load in her blaster.

She holstered a pistol nearly as long as her forearm, and shouldered a scattergun. “He’s ex-Imperial. And he’s a bastard no-good gravel maggot Hutt-spawn, who deserves more pain and sorrow than our blasters can rain down on him, and don’t none of ya forget it.”[/i] She spat on the floor, the hatred writ large on her face, and stepped down off the wooden riser that served as town square and crier’s hub, complete with a small wooden lectern and backed by a notice and job board, currently filled with missing persons pics.

She led a path through the assembled townsfolk, who parted, making way for Abilene to walk by, and paused only at the near-seven foot tall Wookiee, and his horned companion. ”...you know what to do.” The Wookiee grunted, grabbing up his blaster carbine, and moved off, away from the assembled group, followed by the Zabrak and two more outlanders. She turned back to the group of a dozen assembled colonists. Some looked at their shoes, fumbling with weapons they were clearly unaccustomed to wielding. Others met her piercing gaze, cocking and loading their mixture of slugthrowers and blasters. Abilene mounted a dapple-grey horse as others mounted up, or climbed aboard swoops, speeders or hover-skiffs. ”We take what’s ours. And we bury Fel where he landed. If’n I have my way, in an unmarked grave where our grandsons’ grandsons can piss on his bones every year at the anniversary. ‘Far as I’m concerned, the same goes for every sonovabitch he done brought wit’ him.”

They moved out into the dark, on a collection of a half-dozen horses – some with plassteel barding, some just with the tack and harnesses they took from the fields – a few swoops and speeders, and a single skiff with an E-Web mounted amidships, big enough to carry the cargo. Of the dozen souls that marched out on that barren scrub-land, maybe half had the hardened look of killers, or the look of hatred that showed they believed in the old lady’s words.

In stark contrast, one young lad, yellow eyes peering out from under a similar wide brim hat, long tongue tasting the air, cradled his pistol in nervous hands, watching for Prowlers. He hopped up on the skiff, sitting beside the young woman Abilene had bellowed at, a moment before. “I heard your ma say, day ‘fore last, Milla – that she ain’t got no fight with him. So which is it?” The young blonde pulled her hair up, and into a high ponytail, several strands wisping about her features. She pulled the blaster and scanned the edge of the darkness. ”I reckon it’s somewhere between Abilene and Mama. Not sure I’ll know till I see his eyes, Pol.” She laid a kind hand on the young alien’s leg, calming him some. ”stick close to me, ok? You’ll do fine…”




Fel powered down much of the cockpit, letting the dimming light of Abilene and her clear skies dominate the scene. Switching off, letting the horizon and the day come into sharp focus helped him grow accustomed to a new planet, a new vista, a new day / night cycle, a new sky. This one had only a thin atmosphere, and the stars, the nearby unnamed planetoid, the asteroid field, all seemed thrown into stark relief against the black void. Before shutting down, of course Fel had picked up on short range scans. They were coming. The swoops could be on their landing ramp in minutes if they wanted to be. But they were moving at a snail’s pace, compared to what was possible. Must be walkers, Fel surmised. Or horseback. Either way, it bought them a few minutes.

He rose, cracking his neck, and stepped out, into the avionics bay – really just a tiny vestibule between the flight deck and the entryway to the main crew space. He slapped a hand on Wrench’s radome. “You stay put, ‘wheels magee.’ Don’t need you getting caught in the crossfire. Got it?” The little astro droid mentioned that he had no intention of being deactivated, today or any time soon. It was only after Fel had disappeared into his quarters to retrieve his gun belt that he added a few bleeps and whirrs that said ‘be careful.’

Fel strapped on the gun belt, checking the load in his Power5. It slid easily in the oiled leather. (too easily?) He pulled on fingerless gloves, and his coat, the threadbare charcoal flight jacket devoid of any unit patches or insignia, but it was fairly obvious where they had once been sewn. He walked down the landing ramp, nodding at Jet and Zane as his boots touched Abilene soil. ”They’re coming. We’ve maybe got ten minutes.” He noted where the emitter had been erected, maybe ten feet off the landing ramp, and nodded, speaking loud enough for both to hear him, over the ever-present wind. “Jet, you pass me that detonator. And you both keep your distance from it, y’hear?” He had no intention of using it as anything but a threat. But it was a card to be played. He checked to make sure both were armed. ”I don’t want us shootin’ first. And if it comes to that, only shoot to defend yourselves. These folks didn’t do nothin, ‘sides from believin’ in Abilene.” He pulled the pistol, checked its load for the fifth time. He wanted it to go well. Willed it to go well. But he had a bad feeling about it. Almost like it was fated to go South.

Zane’s mind was reeling, trying to figure out what all he needed to do. He likely needed to arm himself, find a defensible position…but, first things first - he walked over to Fel, his voice calm, despite the fact that every nerve in his body felt the tingle of adrenaline starting to course through his system, ”Hey, uh…that det? It’s not synced up to the things that go ‘boom’. Just figured you’d wanna know, in case you needed more than a bluff to pull this off. Imma go and, uh, grab one of those stun sticks and that rifle I got off the Trooper. Prolly hole up in the machine shop or somethin’...” He gave Fel a nod, more to reassure himself than anything, and began making his way back up the ramp into the U.A.

Fel nodded in reply, but when Zane was halfway up the ramp, turned and called out to him. ”...might want to rethink being aboard the ship. I mean, I’m all for it if you wanna make yerself scarce for what’s headin’ our way. But if they torch the ship, I can think of a few places better to hide, with fewer chance of getting crisped. Also, if they win, and we die, they take the ship… you get to be passenger to a whole new crew of trouble.” He breathed deep, realizing he was doing nothing but giving the kid options he didn’t need, and was likely doing his poor head in, for the umpteenth time in a day. He also glanced across the horizon, seeing the telltale sign of dust rising from over the next rise. Maybe a mile off. ”Jus’ keep your head down, Zee. And wherever you pick to lay low – just make sure it’s far from me. I’m gonna be a durn magnet for stray blaster bolts.” The spacer smiled, almost as an afterthought. ”And hey – kid… check the small white box in the ‘fresher before you go diving in the dirt. Slap one ‘a them pads from in there, on anything that’s still bleeding.” He glanced over at Jet. “You ready, partner? Fates know what the old lady’s willing to do…” He realized he was still holding his blaster loosely by his side, and holstered it once more.




She crested the hill where Gunnar Fil’ix had been jumped by two of the ‘local residents’ early in year two; the sand-blasted and weather-stripped board that bore his name still stood a few feet out of the parched earth. She reigned in her dapple grey, calming the horse, which knew all too well what lay out beyond, in the darkness. Fel’s ship perched on the next rise, it’s back to the gorge, maybe a couple minutes ride, looking for all the world like a gaudy house of ill repute, lit up like a Coruscant sign-post. Hmph. She cursed once more, spitting on the ground, and kicked at her mount’s ribs, adding her voice to spur the old mare on. It wouldn’t be long now. And as the speeders and swoops moved ahead, stirring up the dust, she could taste victory in the air.
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The good part about having a space all to yourself was that fact no one would be asking questions. The pilot had left along with the larger guy, more than likely getting ready for their contacts. She, however, had a bit of time. Aellyn kicked her feet up on the co-pilot seat, her data pad plugged into the panel. Her fingers, moving quickly through the holonet. More news about senate hearings, resistance fighters in the outer rim but there it was like a neon sign on Nar Shadaa. An imperial star destroyer attacked, goods stolen. Her lips formed a smirk as she read through the file. Her first real hit toward her former employer. Good. Nothing pointing towards them exactly but no doubt the Empire will have all of them pegged by now. She would have to find more info later. As she relaxed, she heard the rummaging of the crew about the ship, hearing a few beeps and boops from the old astromech. She pulled her feet back, planting them on the ground. Hunched over, her fingers working quickly as a thought came to mind. Well, a few thoughts.

Zane was a nobody, coming from a junk planet no one cared for, hence why a top star destroyer was camped there. Nothing on the kid. Jet, as much as she could muster was as clean as they come. No record, at least that she could find. Though, the Empire did tag him as an Ex-Republican mechanic. Useful on a piece of junk freighter. She shrugged and carried on. The pilot was a different story. Plenty of history with the Empire. That was a given, no need to even tell her. He was a pilot for the Imperial Navy, which spoke volumes about his piloting skills. Moved through different squadrons. “How did you get into smuggling…” Aellyn whispered to herself as her eyes continued to read. There, at the end. Dishonorably discharged. “Kriff.” Her eyes skipped over lines, nothing. The file had been altered or encrypted. She needed to know. A sudden knock against the metal frame of the cockpit made her jump. Aellyn quickly unplugged as she turned her head toward the door, at least it was only the Doc.

Aellyn leaned back in her chair as the Chiss took a seat in the Pilot chair. He still had the Imperial uniform on. Putting her datapad away, her eyes looked over the man. He looked like his life was suddenly over. The same feeling she had when she left Coruscant. Wyler would take care of him, getting him to a safe world and put the kolto to good use. She explained everything. Her contact would come here, pick him up and the kolto, taking away from the Empire. A place he can make a difference. Aellyn apologized for forcing him into coming with them but the Chiss insisted that he had made his choice, in his own right. She nodded and smiled toward him, suggesting they should probably help the others. As they both stood, she turned toward the window, seeing a cloud of dust forming in the distance. Seeing as how there is nothing out here on this rock, makes sense the exchange would happen sooner than later. As the pair exited the cockpit, the droid rolled past, beeping about something. “Go ahead…grab the crate. If my contact comes, I got a feeling it won’t be good for this bunch and your extraction will be quick.”

Aellyn stepped into her so called room, grabbing her holster and pistol. She attached the holster to her, checked the weapon before she put it away. The kid was coming back up the ramp as the Chiss was just pulling the crate of kolto out of cargo. This was going to be fun to explain. She helped move the box along, down the ramp and onto the dry unforgiving rock. Where did the pilot find these places, she asked herself as she stepped onto the dry grass. Taking the landscape while watching the dust approach rapidly. The pilot put them in a strategic position. Though, nowhere to escape, they would have to shoot their way out if it came to that. Her data pad beeped as she pulled it out of her pocket.

Kriff. Her contact just dropped into orbit.
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The stale moon air invaded Jet's nostrils, a pungent mix of metallic dust and alien flora, accelerating his breath as adrenaline slowly began its inexorable course into his veins. This well-worn sensation, familiar yet always jarring, stirred a potent mix of exhilaration and dread within his mind. The dust cloud grew, its swirling tendrils mingling with the crisp air, creating a haunting dance against the backdrop of the desolate landscape. As it expanded, it painted a sepia haze against the sky, a murky shroud heralding the approach—likely stirred by pounding hooves and roaring speeders, both promising trouble. Silence enveloped Jet's mind, his breathing echoing in his ears as his focus intensified. His hand twitched involuntarily, yearning for the reassuring coldness of metal—the tangible comfort against a torrential foe.

Around him stood his brothers-in-arms, a motley crew bound by necessity: The Pilot, The Captain, the de facto sharp-eyed and resolute leader of the group, exuding quiet confidence despite tumultuous intentions, a weather eye on the horizon. The Runaway, The Imp, the wrench in the works, now forging her own path through the makeshift galaxy with her own hidden agenda. The Scavenger, The Kid, absorbing lessons from those who had already frayed the ropes, eager yet cautious. These were his comrades, sharing his moment of anxious anticipation.

With a few soft, heavy steps, Jet moved beside the pilot, his trusted friend. He placed a leaden hand on the pilot's shoulder, offering a sullen nod. In that moment, a profound understanding passed between them—an unspoken pact of solidarity and shared purpose, forged through their shared experiences. Jet felt the ground beneath his feet, each subtle vibration a reminder of the approaching conflict. The earth seemed to pulse with anticipation, mirroring his own heartbeat. His ears caught the faint rumble of distant engines, a low hum that steadily grew louder, accompanied by the sporadic clatter of rocks dislodged by the unseen force. The air was thick with anticipation, each breath tasting of dust and imminent danger.

He inhaled deeply, drawing in the cool, crisp air as he steadied himself. The familiar weight of his gear pressed against his back, a comforting reminder of what they had survived together. As he breathed in, he could almost feel the tension crystallizing into a razor-sharp focus, his mind locking onto the task ahead. He exhaled slowly, letting the air escape his lungs in a controlled release. A grin began to spread across his face, a mix of determination and calm confidence. As he turned his gaze back to his friend, the grin widened, infused with a sense of shared purpose and camaraderie. At that moment, the weight of the impending conflict seemed to lighten.

He carefully retrieved the detonator from its resting place—a worn leather pouch hanging from his belt. The weight of the device felt both familiar and ominous in his hand. With a deliberate motion, he dropped it into Fel's open palm. Their eyes met, and he offered a slow, reassuring nod. In that silent exchange, they shared a mutual understanding that they were prepared for the worst, reassurances lending hand to hope, yet silently praying it would never come to that.
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Moving back within the Unfair Advantage and past Aellyn and the doc, Zane eyed the crate of kolto going out with indifference. After all, Fel had agreed that this crate was supposed to be hers; so by all rights, she was just taking her due. Shrugging to himself, he continued to move further into the ship toward the refresher that Fel had told him about. Easing through the door, he searched around for a few to find the kit that the pilot had referred him to, opening it up to find bacta patches. These looked a lot fresher than anything he'd ever laid eyes on, and the kid didn't really know if he should be wasting them on his scrawny hide. Still, to look a gift bantha in the mouth wasn't just rude, it was also stupid. Those things smelled.

Removing his shirt, Zane looked over his body to the many different sores. He tried to figure out which ones were the worst, and which ones could likely just use some disinfectant and then be allowed to carry on and heal. After giving himself a sort of "triage", he opened the bacta patches one by one, the sickly-sweet scent of it beginning to fill the room as he started dressing his wounds. He only used a few of them, choosing to use the small can of disinfectant spray on several of the smaller ones before slapping a simple bandage over them and moving on. Taking a deep breath, he slid his shirt back over him and tucked it back into his jumpers before heading back out of the refresher.

The sounds coming from outside were a mixture of high winds, shifting sands and dirt, and something else he could barely make out. Sounded like machines of some sort. Zane made a quick effort to get back to his bags where he'd left the former soldier's E-11 rifle, also seeking to arm himself with one of the stun sticks he'd found in the shuttle they raided. Once everything was on his person, he said a little prayer to whatever floating noodle monsters might be listening, and then made his way back toward the ramp, choosing to hunker down just beyond the top of it. Whatever was coming, he needed to make sure he was ready for it.
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They drew closer. Fel checked the load in his Power5 one. more. time. and held the det loosely at his side, taking a few deep breaths. There was no preparing for an interaction like this. There was no prepping his ‘crew’ for what was to come. He secretly hoped that Zane, and Aellyn made it out of this ok... they hadn’t signed on for his past to come callin’. Jet – he didn’t worry so much about. He always had the subconscious feeling that Jet would be fine, no matter what their current predicament. He couldn’t explain it, but he just had a feeling the older mech would outlive them all. Maybe it fed into his feeling about karmic payback. Jet’s karma was in the black. He was owed by the ‘verse. Himself? Not so much.

The dust cloud grew closer, and then closer again, until Fel could make out goggles, hats, individual wisps of hair caught by the incessant wind. The noise of the swoops whooshed and soared, and then fell silent as a speeder bike stopped on each side of Abilene’s dapple grey, no more than a dozen paces from the foot of the UA’s time-and-weather-beaten landing ramp. More horses appeared, ranging themselves in an arc around their leader. Finally, the skiff appeared, drawing to a halt behind the first row. Most of Abilene’s folk remained in the saddle, but the sound of feet on the parched Earth meant that the skiff was emptying. Fel would have bet dollars to pesos that Abilene herself would remain in the saddle… but he’d have been wrong. The older lady slid to the ground, boots crunching on the surface, and took a few strides toward the small smuggling crew.

“Abilene…”
“Fel. How you doin’, boy?” There was no smile. Barely a question behind the pleasantries.
“Lotta folks for carrying a half dozen crates.”
There was no visible reaction that told Galdaart they had an understanding, or that any of this exchange was good-natured.
“Well, can’t trust the untrustworthy. Can you…” she intoned. He didn’t reply. No point in provoking.
“It’s all here. The star charts. Your families’ life savings. The colony transceiver. And the emitter.” He pointed toward the device, a half dozen paces off to the smuggler’s left. “We did you the favour of setting it up here, so you all can be on your ease.” He raised his voice at that last bit so that all of Abilene’s folks could hear.

“This puts your colony back on a paying basis, I reckon. And I’m glad it was me and mine could deliver it to you. You put it out there to them was listenin’...but when I saw the message on the ‘net, I knew it had to be me. I owe you that much.”
“More.” Her thumbs worked their way into her gun belt, shifting it slightly, while looking casual. Goddamnit lady, don’t. Just take your shit and leave.
“Couldn’t help but see those charges placed on the Prowlers’ emitter, there. Hell of a thing for you to do, Fel.” His own hand strayed, hovered over the butt of his pistol. “You know how many good people we’ve lost to those sithspitting sons of whores, while you were schlangin’ about, taking your time?”
“Don’t gotta go this way, Abilene. Take it. Take it all, please…”

There was the unmistakable sound of more than one slugthrower cocking its action, and one of the swoop pilots went to draw down on his thigh-holstered blaster. Frack. Frack it all to the dark place…

The pistol was in his hand before the swoop jock could jerk his steel free. He missed with the first shot, the thick red bolt sending a shower of sparks off the nose of the speeder, but the second, and third found their marks, burning the young man down where he sat. Then he swung the blaster toward Abilene, though he hesitated. “I don’t want this, lady. Never did!” It was enough time for a shot to ring out from somewhere in the low hills to their left, striking Fel in the lower leg, dropping him as the leg crumpled under him…

As the shots rang out, Aellyn pulled the Doc behind the crate of Kolto, insisting he stay put. The Chiss didn’t argue with her. The other side, Jet's instincts kicked in, and his rifle was aimed at the group ahead before he even registered drawing it. The sight of Fel taking a bolt to the leg ignited a fierce, protective rage within them both. Aellyn peeked around the crate seeing Jet making his move toward Fel kneeling on the ground. His stance steady and his aim unwavering as he trained his rifle on the group. The tension in the air was palpable, heightening the urgency of the situation. Jet moved into a crouch beside Fel, his eyes never straying from the potential threats ahead, scanning every movement and calculating every possibility. Aellyn then moved as Jet did, pistol aiming toward Abilene, stepping in front of Fel and Jet, shielding them.

“Listen, lady. Take your cargo and go. Otherwise, our air support will blast your colony to rubble. That will leave your fate to either the wildlife or our blasters and honestly, I hear the wildlife isn’t too nice.”

Air support? Fel’s mind raced. What in the seven suns was she talking about? That dog wouldn’t hunt…

“ Wyler.. I’m going to need you to fire close to my position… we have some locals not playing so nice.” Aellyn whispered in her comm. As quickly as she stated, the freighter hovered just behind the UA, on the edge of the canyon. The shot rang about a hundred yards to their left, where the shot to Fel’s leg came from. Aellyn held her pistol steady, never taking her eyes off Abilene.

As adrenaline coursed through the mechanic, he took note of Aellyn stepping up to take command. Her contact for the Kolto, an unexpected ally, provided cover. This unforeseen assistance momentarily startled Jet, but he quickly pushed the surprise aside to focus on aiding Fel.

“Can you stand?” Jet's voice was a quiet murmur, intended only for Fel's ears. He extended an arm, offering the support to lean on if needed, while he continued to survey the group ahead, ever vigilant for any further hostile actions.

Fel was already working toward getting to his feet, but the appearance of Jet made the process that much easier. “Where in the fiery place did she get a ship from?” he mused aloud, as the freighter blasted terrain off to their left. There was a cry of something akin to anguish, pain or anger, or mebbe all the above, from the ridge off to their left, where the inbound friendly (?) had strafed. The spacer shook his head in dismay, and more than a little sheepish guilt. “Didn’t see that comin’... Shoulda known she was going to place folk on that rise… I must be goin’ soft, Jet…” Fel nodded in thanks to his partner, turned an eye over his shoulder to Aellyn, with an unabashed look of ‘WTF’ crossing his features. Holding up a hand with outstretched fingers, he held onto Jet’s shoulder, and bled.

He yelled out, over the din of the freighter hovering at just under a hundred feet. “Got you dead-bang, Abilene… Why don’t y’all lay down arms before my backup culls the population of this dustbowl right quick? And while you’re at it – send up a few of your men-folk – unarmed – and pick up these damn crates. Since when I gotta take a bullet afore you believe I just want to deliver what’s yours, ya kriffin’ Harpy?” He hopped forward a couple paces, far enough that the old lady could see easy enough, and tossed the det in the dirt. “You wanna make life easy for your people, grab a few cases marked with the Imp Seal, too. That there’s Kolto, and I’ll even give you the ‘friends & family’ bargain on it…” He set his jaw, the blaster wavering in his hand through a combination of adrenaline and pain, and called out one more time. [color=F7941D]”You want this to go hard… you just keep on firing. You do and I swear I’ll end this little ville. So for the void’s sake, put your weapons away, and let’s do business.”

The kid crouched, wide-eyed and frightened, behind the corridor beam that was mere feet from the loading ramp. Seeing Fel go down hadn’t made him feel any better. He had the E-11 blaster rifle at his side, white-knuckle gripped and finger near the trigger, as he watched the whole scene playing out in front of him. When the “THOOM” of the new ship’s cannons had hit dirt, he flinched a little, his breath raspy and quiet as he continued to watch everyone. If things started off again, Zane knew that he was likely going to have to take part in this whole shootout. He didn’t relish the thought; the other man that he had just recently put several bolts into kept flashing into his mind. Still, if it was going to be between his new crew and random strangers, then their lives and dreams were forfeit in his eyes.

From the moment the blast hit the hill, Abilene’s crew wasn’t so sure anymore. How were they going to compete with an extra ship? She sat (literally) on her high horse, hearing the whispers around her. Her mind twirling with thoughts on how she could pull another trick off. Not this time, the son of a nerf herder, pulled it off. “Lay them down.” Abilene dismounted, her head motioned to the speeder next to her, telling them to fetch the crates. “What do you want for it?”

Fel gave a thin smile, despite having been shot in the leg. Finally. Finally. “For bringing back what was yours – like we talked about months back. Nothing more. For the Kolto… thirty thou per canister. Two per crate. That’s sixty thou a crate.” He shrugged. It was a damn good price. And he knew she could afford it. “I’d take one canister’s worth in fuel and parts for the UA, though. If you can spare it.”
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Hidden 1 mo ago Post by Glitter Guppy
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With more than a little hesitation, the motley crew atop the speeders flanking Abilene exchanged a few glances. No one seemed overly keen on approaching the loading ramp situation now that the spacer and his crew had back-up.
The lead on the left jerked his head towards the cargo, motioning for the right to go first.
The right just shrugged at him.

Given her situation, Eryn was a billion percent not fond of making moves that might attract any measure of attention, but the woman had a schedule to keep and she had no patience for gutless morons.
She pushed away from the speeder driver in front of her and slid off the vehicle, making sure her boots were heard hitting the ground. With the helmet on over the hood and the mask covering the lower half of her face, the only thing that set her apart from the others was her height.
As she suspected, the movement set the others into motion. Now all she had to do was follow the others and blend in.

Trailing close behind the speeder leads, Eryn kept her head down but her awareness up as she began helping load the cargo, studying the scene, making mental notes, looking for openings or things she might be able to use down the line.

The rival crew caught her interest. She noted the way they rallied around the wounded captain, the stubborn steel in his words as he stood once more, the sharp, calculating gaze of the older one. Eryn knew a soldier when she saw one. She could almost see the calluses on his soul, the weight of what he’d been through in the tension through his frame. The woman was the most intriguing, not much taller than Eryn herself, hair red as a laigrek’s eye. If Eryn hadn’t heard otherwise, she’d have assumed SHE was the leader of the group, commanding their back-up firepower with the unwavering diamond spine of someone who knew real power. But there was nothing…arrogant about it. If she was putting on a show, she was a damn good actor.

She caught sight of at least two others, but she couldn’t get a decent look without craning her neck, and the last thing Eryn wanted to do was draw more attention. She was hoping they’d have to board the ship to collect everything, giving her time to find a spot to stow herself…

Eventually, when all was loaded and the exchange had ended, no one would be able to find the short new member of Abilene’s cronies. Not that anyone was looking. She’d done a decent job of making herself forgettable. But the speeder crew would be short one grimey lackey, and nobody on that blasted rock would give a bantha’s ass about it…
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Her heart was pounding in her chest, her pistol aiming true to her target. The last few seconds were a blur, seeing Jet run to Fel’s aid, she too reacted, standing in front of them, a human shield. Why? She hardly knew either one of them but in that moment, a single thought was the only thing on her mind. Out of everything, maybe this would be the saving grace. A peace that she had been searching for. Abilene had dismounted, her hand steady, her eyes locked on the old lady as the woman started to negotiate terms. A relief, her threat worked? Jet helping the pilot to his feet as Aellyn stepped to the side, holstering her weapon. The negotiating didn’t last long, it seemed Fel got what he wanted. No one died. At least, not yet. The day was still young.

As Abilene began to load, Aellyn turned her head, seeing the doc rise from his hiding place, making his way toward the pilot. The Chiss arrived at Fel’s side as the pilot leaned against Jet’s shoulder for support. The pilot caught the doctor’s arm before he had a chance to examine his wound. Aellyn scoffed observing the interaction. At least let him be useful before he leaves. Her stare caught Fel’s and the expression he gave, she knew it wasn’t good. The same one when she showed up with the Doc on Lotho. Plans change and it was the second time she had gone off script.

“Let it bleed, Doc. I’ll be alright.”

Vizst nodded, taking a step back from the pilot. His hands clasped behind his back.

“Aellyn, you copy?” A familiar voice echoed in her ear.

She turned her head toward the sky, breaking the stare as Fel turned his back to Abilene. “Yeah, land by the hill you demolished. I’ll meet you with the kolto and doc.”

The freighter, hovering above the UA, shifted to the left toward the clearing it had made moments ago. Those on the ground shielded their faces, the sand kicked up as the crafted landed smoothly on the desolate rock.

“I take it that’s your ride…” Fel offered the man his hand. “Go on, doctor. Go find some of that ‘peace’ I’ve been hearing about. Do some good while you’re out there in the ‘verse, y’hear?” He didn’t know the man all that well, but he’d kept his word, and maybe that was enough. There was no goodbye. No ‘see you soon.’ That wouldn’t have rang true.

Aellyn watched the final interaction, the Chiss nodding shaking the pilots hand before turning to her. They both walked together, taking the kolto and pushing it toward the other freighter. The landing ramp had just settled as the older man descended, stepping on the dry dirt. His arms crossed as he watched the two approach. By a distance, the man looked a lot like Jet but a closer look, any Imperial would know he was a clone. Much like Fel, Wyler didn’t seem too happy to see her or was that always his expression, she wondered.

I have a feeling this new ‘crew’ you have taken upon, didn’t know I was here. “ Wyler motioned over toward the UA.

“No.“ She answered back. Her contact gave her a look, the same one a father would give if they were disappointed.

“Name’s Wyler” The Trooper turned to Vizst, shaking hands, exchanging a few words. “Let’s get you settled, doc.” He turned to Aellyn. “Stay.”

Aellyn wished the doctor luck as the two men pushed the kolto up the loading ramp, disappearing into the ship. Her hands slipped into her jacket pockets, turning her head back to the UA, she felt a slight breeze against her cheek as thoughts whirled around in her head.

“Who are you mixed with now..” The clunk of boots hit the ramp as the Trooper came back down to her.

“Don’t know. Old Republic mechanic. He is solid. Some kid we picked up from the job on Lotho. Then there is the pilot. Lots of history with the Empire, turned Smuggler. Something isn’t quite right but I’ll figure it out.”   Aellyn kept her eyes on the UA.

“ Kid, don’t be meddling in others business. Out here…it will get you killed.”

“Yeah… I know.” She emphasized the last two words.

“Stay off the holonet, eventually someone will catch on. That job you did, it is all over it. Best to stay low. You know how to contact me if you truly need it.”

Aellyn looked back, seeing her friend make his way back up the ramp. “Oh! One more thing, the kid I mentioned before. He left a brother on Lotho. Marcus, I believe. Could you..” She gave the man a familiar look.

Wyler sighed. “ I’ll see what I can do but no promises.” Wyler gave a wave before hitting the button near the ramp. As it closed, she stepped back, smiling before turning on her heels, heading back toward the UA. Her jacket pressed against her back as the freighter lifted off the rock. It turned, hovering back over the UA, as she watched it make its way to the stars before jumping to hyperspace.

As Aellyn approached the crew, she saw Abilene’s getting back on to her horse, the crew must be finishing up. She didn’t bother approaching the others, instead she turned, walking up the ramp into the UA.
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For the first time, Jet was thankful for Aellyn’s ulterior motives. The sudden entrance of another ship, a freighter, and the pressure it put on Abilene meant this situation, albeit one that got Fel shot, shouldn’t get any worse. He watched as the ship landed, squinting through the dust and debris kicked up by its repulsorlifts. The freighter's engines roared, but the sounds of conflict and tension were now silenced, leaving only the hum of the engines and the soft rustling of the wind. Once the dust had settled, he glanced at Fel, who responded with the universal, or perhaps uniquely Fel, ‘I’m good’ look. Jet let the man stand on his own two feet and, although a little unsteady, he seemed well enough for the time being.

He moved off, and Fel watched his partner with his peripheral, his eyes never leaving Abilene’s. “You shot me.” The old lady was cold as ice, the thaw only just touching the corner of her eyes. “You’re damn lucky you’re still breathin’, boy. Aught to put you down, for what you done.” There was a sneer, a scowl on her face that said she meant every word. “Hurts, you being in my pocket like this, don’t it?” Fel was not rubbing salt in the wound of being out-gunned by a second ships’ arrival, but was legitimately apologetic about her luck, as if he almost understood and wished she’d had her vengeance.

“What we done for you, it’s worth what we spoke about and then some. Here’s my read on it: for the goods, the heist on Lotho, getting back what was yours, you give me what you owe me. We’ve earned it. For the Kolto, sixty thou a crate would make it two hundred forty large. How be, you give us one hundred, and let Jet take what he needs from your hangar. Deal of a lifetime, Abilene…”

Jet made his way over to the emitter, still laden with the charges laid there before. It took but a moment to remove them;, after all, they were never a threat in the first place, but possibly one Abilene and co’ wouldn’t want regardless. Tucking the charges into his pants pouches, he hoisted the emitter and walked towards Abilene’s crew where two guys, clad in mismatched armor and sporting various haphazard decorations, had come to greet him and take it from him. Jet let the emitter drop from his shoulder and into their arms, making sure they took the full weight, with a little extra force from gravity. As they struggled to adjust to the unexpected burden and were about to voice their complaints, he gave them a slight smirk, tinged with controlled fury and confidence, his expression an unspoken warning not to test his patience. They gave Jet one look and scurried back into the masses with their salvation.

With Aellyn now leaving back into the ship, this was the opportunity to get their due. He made his way back to Fel, standing close enough that the spacer could use his shoulder again for support should he need it, though Jet didn't expect him to, of course. Fel had his ways, and Jet doubted that meant swaying back into vulnerability. The spacer's face was pale, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, but his eyes remained sharp, determined. Jet felt a surge of respect for his friend’s resilience, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

“You got yours, Abilene. Now give us ours.” His voice was calm, but the underlying edge was unmistakable. Jet's smirk returned, a calculated mixture of defiance and confidence, as he awaited her response, the tension palpable in the stilled air.

Fel was waiting, and now Jet had said his piece as well. The two stood side by side, staring her down. “What’s it gonna be, Mayor?” Abilene reached in a pocket, and Fel’s palm rested on his blaster for just a moment, before she drew out a data-disc, and tossed it to the spacer, who caught it mid-air. “It’s all there. The job, like I said. Legit.” Fel looked at the shiny sliver of tech, stuffed it in a pocket. “Seven figures?” She nodded. “And the coin?” She smiled at him, but her eyes were dead serious. “I assume you don’t want a cred’ chit…” Fel laughed. “Cash is king, Mayor. Fewer questions that way.” She nodded. “It’ll be ready when Jet comes down to rummage through our parts bin and fill his Jerry can.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Abilene.”

Jet nodded slowly at the exchange of words. The tension in the air was finally beginning to dissipate, it was time to bring this tense moment to a close. His main priority now was getting Fel back on board so his partner's injury could be tended to.

The older lady whistled, a shrill, piercing noise, and speeders started up, breaking the otherwise silent scene — they had retrieved what they had come for. She mounted her horse, and turned the dapple to face back toward town, but called back over her shoulder at him. “Fel!” He was still watching her, and arched an eyebrow in reply. “One day, somebody’s gonna put you under the ground. You got it comin’.” She pointed at him, her index finger outstretched, her lips a grim line.

He nodded at the older woman solemnly, speaking quietly enough that only Jet would hear.

“Yeah.”

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Hidden 25 days ago Post by deegee
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He didn’t turn his back on Abilene and her people until the last horse was over the horizon line, heading back to town. At the same token, he likewise didn’t draw his blaster till the last horse had disappeared from his vision, too (though you best believe he wanted to.) Once the Abilene folks were far enough off, the sounds of the planetoid were enough to make the hair on the nape of his neck stand up. A few rocks rolling down a hillside, a rustle in an opposite shallow ravine or dry creekbed. Now that the emitter was gone, Fel was hyper-aware of every movement, watching and listening for Prowlers. Not that he’d have much warning. And the damnable leg. Made him move slower than piss rolling down a coward’s thigh.

But that was the double-edge sword. He absolutely would not accept help from anyone as long as Abilene could still see them, and so he backed toward the landing ramp of the UA as quickly as he could, which wasn’t very karking quick, his hand on the butt of his Power5.

As soon as they were ‘gone,’ (they weren’t really gone… he knew that, too. If she was half the tactician he took her for, Abilene had shooters watching them still. Fel thought he had spied two or three reflections off scopes in nearby hills, but the takeaway was, he wouldn’t do anything even remotely antagonistic like pull a gun, till the boss lady was out of harm’s way. He figured that might have bought him his skin, for the moment… ‘less they were real bad shots.)

The bottom of the ramp had seemed a mile off, and he was sweaty and winded by the time he reached the bottom of it. Last aboard. As it should be. He hit the ‘retract’ button as soon as he was up the ramp, and came face to face with Jet as he turned around, to walk into the belly of the ship.

“Nobody leaves. Not now. The cats’ll be looking for an easy meal.” There was no point in heading to town now. Easier, safer with sun-up tomorrow. The pilot breathed deep, holstering his gun. “Where is she?” Jet jerked his head, over his shoulder. Deeper into the ship. No words were necessary. He’d either find her in the common room, her bunk, or the flight deck. There weren’t too many more places she could go. Jet glanced down at Fel’s leg, opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it, seeing the look on Fel’s face.

He entered the common area, checked the cargo bays, looking right past (or through) Zane, and finally, the flight deck, where he likewise ignored Wrench’s comments that the likelihood of being boarded almost caused him to abandon their foolish transaction and take off. (he would never have done so, regardless of the stubborn little droid’s protestations.) He didn’t even dignify the droid with his usual taunting derision, no good-natured laughing.

So, she was in her quarters. Fel moved stiffly to the door, entering the bypass code that would open the door regardless of whether the occupant had it locked, or not. It hissed open, and the pilot stepped inside the small room, letting the light from the common room flood into the dimly-lit chamber.

So much for privacy, Aellyn thought as the door behind her hissed opened. Mid change, much like her days at the academy where anyone can just waltz in. It was his ship after all. Unbothered, she pulled the fresh shirt over herself as her eyes went to him. Undoubtedly about to get a verbal lashing.

“I owe you my thanks for that ship, getting us out of a tight spot.” There was thankfulness in his words, but barely-contained, seething rage in his words. He stood still, the blood from the gunshot on his leg dripping on the decking. He was unconcerned, letting the uncomfortable silence stretch out. “...but if you ever disobey an order again, or give away my ship’s position, or compromise the security of my crew again, I’ll kill you.”

He let that sit a moment, before turning to leave.

Surprised. “A thank you and a threat?” Aellyn raised an eyebrow. “Figured you would at least come in here and give me a matching one…” She pointed to his leg. “Sure, going on the holonet was my fault, I can take that. Nothing about your ship or the security of it was compromised. My contact is solid. I trust him.” Aellyn let the last few words sit with him. “I wish I could say the same about you. I booked you for passage to lay low and where did that get me. I didn’t sign up for a heist. Nor be threatened by an old hag who has it out for the captain of this ship. Perhaps I should have let her kill you?”

He considered it for a moment. Shooting her, that is. Considered tossing his rebuttal back, over his shoulder at her, so that he wouldn’t have to contend with having to look her in the eye... but he stayed where he was in the tiny cabin, within reach, facing her, though every fibre of his being wanted to be as far away from her as he could be. Did she really believe the line of crap she was spewing? “You’re missing the point. Your contact. Not mine. You say he’s solid, but I don’t know him. I don’t trust you, or him. So you saying nothing of mine was compromised, carries zero weight. Bottom line, I told you not to go on the holonet. You did. And you didn’t ‘book’ anything with me. I’m not a rutting travel agent. You scurried your choobies into my docking bay, looking for a way offworld in a hurry. You may not have signed up for a heist, but you agreed to it when I asked you face to face if you wanted in, and it just made you 25,000 richer than you were, despite your best attempt at karking the whole thing up… and got you a case of Kolto to grease the wheels with your ‘contact.’ We’re even. You may not trust me, or think I’m a safe bet, but you don’t know squat about me, lady. And whatever the ‘net can tell you, wouldn’t be half the story. And I’ve never betrayed you, or lied to you …Can’t say the same for you.”

If she thought it was a threat, fair play. He didn’t need to correct her on that point. A promise was simply a threat that was carried out as planned. As to whether Abilene should have been allowed to kill him, well… he let that go. Might have been the only thing she was right about.

He wasn’t wrong about any of it, perhaps this was part of her journey, shedding the Imperial skin off her. Kark This was exactly what Wyler had told her not to do. Though, he told her not to trust anyone either. Stay low, stay hidden. She was doing the exact opposite. Aellyn didn’t change her face, she took in his words. To her, the conversation was over. She picked up the dirty shirt off her bunk, folding it for whatever reason before making eye contact with the captain. “Give half to the kid, the other half can go to parts. I don’t need the credits.” Aellyn said softly, turning her back on the captain, signalling she had said her peace.

“Frack no.” he spat. ”You’re going to need every cent you have in order to get the hell off my boat. Most Captains require payment up-front, for passage.”

She cocked her head to the side and turned to him. “Maybe if you did require payment, this ship wouldn’t be such a dump. Take the credits for yourself, I don’t need them… “

Jet had been lurking in the corridor for a moment now, letting the two say what needed to be said when he was just about to step in and attempt to cool things over. That was, of course, until Aellyn had mentioned the ship. He knew better than to step in now, he shrugged his shoulders, sunk his hands into his pockets and turned on his heel, moving back to his own bunk for some rest while those two cleared things up. Was he willing to let things get heated? No. Was he going to have this come down on him? Kark, no.

Fel was tempted. Sure, he was. Typically, you simply don’t insult a pilot’s ship. That was liable to get you a shot in the mouth. But it was also low-hanging fruit. Inconsequential, compared to what had been said already. Reactionary, which meant her blood was up, and that he was right in what he had said thus far. And he knew it. (and it was just not true. Maybe the UA was a mess compared to luxury liners and military vessels… but it wasn’t that bad. It was just old, creaky, and lived-in.) So he let it go and walked out, leaving the door open.
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Hidden 19 days ago 19 days ago Post by Zane Corvus
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Zane Corvus The Nerd From Far Far Away

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The blood that had been rushing up into his eardrums, making his head pound each time he felt his heart thrumming inside his chest like a piledriver, had finally receded back through his veins following the “altercation” that had taken place outside. He barely remembered Aellyn’s hand on his shoulder as she passed him by on her way into the ship, but it was enough of a jolt to remind him to breathe and finally release the tension in his arms that held the E-11. The walk back inside the ship hardly even registered in his mind. He found himself sitting back at the dejarik table, sliding the rifle across its scratched surface, before nearly collapsing in a slump in the middle of the bench seat.

He replayed the firefight outside in his head a dozen times over in a few short seconds. The young scrapper had no real tactical understanding of anything, just a good memory. Several of Abilene’s “citizens”, all spread out across the dusty, cracked surface of her little world, all of them just waiting to put Fel and the rest of the crew into an early grave. The kid didn’t even take a single shot the entire time, just held his position at the top of the ramp and made sure no one else made it inside until the ceasefire occurred. Zane reasoned that he would want to get more comfortable with the rifle if he was expected to be of any use in a firefight again.

Now that the adrenaline in his system was leaving him, he began to feel the weight of everything in his body. He was tired. Too tired. He needed to find a place to hole up and try to get some rest. Turning in the bench seat toward the galley floor, he slid off to make himself stand, and suddenly felt his legs turn into lead. He shuffled across the deck, looking about the ship to try and locate a place where he could bed down. Turning to the right toward the cockpit, he started to head towards the one starboard cabin when he began to hear the shouting match going on in the other room. Ducking back behind the galley wall, he tried to wait out the awkward and heated conversation, unable to keep himself from eavesdropping.

Their banter was anything but friendly. Apparently, Aellyn had gone off and used the holonet to contact that ship that had shown up in the nick of time; and Fel wasn’t too keen on it. True, if the Imperials were fishing the holonet looking for any leads about their stolen cargo, it would be all too easy for them to skim info about the U.A. when those keywords popped up. But the lady was supposed to be some kind of tech guru, wasn’t she? One of the ones working for the Imps at some point, too, from what Zane could glean. So what was it that Fel was worried about? That the Imps would be smarter than her, and root them out? It would likely be for the best that they laid low for the time being, but the kid was actually going to ask her if she had the means to get a message back to Lotho – to Marcus. It was a long shot, sure, but he wasn’t about to give up on the idea of getting his brother to safety and a better life. Not now, not ever.

Zane was lost in the moment when he realized that the two of them had finished their discourse. He heard the expletives that Aellyn yelled at him before hitting the switch to slide her door shut as angrily as possible. When Fel crossed his vision, he stood there at the end of the galley, frozen with his eyes open wide like an idiot, and began stammering as he tried to find somewhere to put his hands.

”U-u-u-uhhhh, h-hey…you…” He said, trying to sound emphatic and as if he was just able to find the man, ”So, uhm…I was wonderin’...whe-where can a guy bed down at in this joint–I mean, this fantastic, uh, ship o’ yours? Whaaat? No! I didn’t hear anything, what the kriff are you talkin’ about? No way…” He let his voice trail off as he looked away from Fel, finally settling on folding his arms in front of him uneasily; his right foot rolling back and forth on its heel, the toe of his boot pointed upward.

Fel considered just continuing on, toward the bridge, toward his safe place. Where he could let all of that go. Where he felt most at home, and where nothing, or nobody, could touch him. But there was Zane. Poor kid’s head was about to split open from everything he’d experienced in the past couple days. Fel stopped, mid-stride, and exhaled, turning toward the young man. His mouth opened, as if contemplating a course of action, and changing mid-breath. He swallowed whatever it might have been, and spoke softly, as if he’d actually given it some thought. (he had.) ”Ship’s got an empty bunk, starboard side… but it ain’t made up, not even sure it’s got a proper mattress… mostly been used as a medbay last several months. I’ll get it squared away for you soon enough.” He thought a moment, brightening a little. “Best sleep I ever got, early in my time out in the Black, was in a hammock in the cargo hold on my first tramp freighter flight. Might be a good idea for you, too. Get you over your first voyage. Might decide you like it alright, too.” He frowned, mouth curling into a sour distasteful line. “But I ain’t got that rigged up, neither… How ‘bout you bed down in my bunk, kid? ‘Least for the night, till we can get you fixed up. I’m not going to be doing much sleepin’ tonight anyhow…” he pointed toward the open cabin door, the centre of the door scraped of most of its once vibrant orange paint, as if some mechanical part of the mechanism had failed and rubbed the door raw. Fact was, the whole ship was a little threadbare. Maybe Aellyn was right. Maybe it was a bit of a scow. “Make yerself at home, kid. What’s mine is yours.” Fel clapped Zane on the shoulder, and hobbled into the flight deck…

Zane’s eyes followed Fel’s gesturing hand as he indicated the cabin, and nodded succinctly, ”Uhh, yeah! Okay.” He turned back toward Fel with a sheepish grin, ”I’ll just, uh…head that way now.” With the spacer already moving toward the cockpit area, Zane realized he was talking to the man’s back, and thus decided to press onward. Approaching the door, he looked at the small panel next to it, noting the worn letters in Aurebesh that said “OPEN” and “CLOSE”. Depressing the switch, the door hesitated for a moment before slowly pressurizing the hydraulic mechanisms and hissing their way open. He then made his way inside, looking around at the captain’s chosen quarters with a bit of bewilderment. It wasn’t especially tidy, but the kid was used to that level of mess and far worse.

Removing his tool belt and pulling it off of him, he rebuckled it and hung it from the corner of the bunk along with the E-11 on its sling. Noticing that the lower bunk was a little disheveled and lived-in, he decided that the top bunk was likely the best option for him. After climbing into it, he rolled his tired body onto its padded surface. It was the first real bed he’d laid in for years. Back on Lotho Minor, all he had was a pallet in the corner of their ramshackle compartment, which he shared with Marcus so he could keep an eye on him. Thinking of his kid brother saddened him quite a bit, so he did his best to remind himself of why he was doing this before allowing his body to finally relax. The bunk may not have been the most comfortable thing in the ‘verse, but it was a far cry from the rough metal floor of his old home. And it smelled exceptionally better, too.

After several minutes of staring at the close ceiling of the captain’s cabin, he found that his body felt very heavy, all the way up to his eyelids. Within moments, he was out, dreaming of the possibilities that could present themselves now that he was on this whole new adventure.
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Hidden 16 days ago 16 days ago Post by deegee
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“E Chu Ta… “ Aellyn whispered, slamming the panel as the door hissed shut behind Fel.

He found himself in the cockpit, though truth go on ahead and be told, he had no intention of lifting off, or programming a jump into the navacomp, or doing much of anything in particular, other than bleeding quietly. Of course, when he entered his own private inner sanctum, Wrench laid into him about how he was a mess, and not fit to pilot, and should really take better care of himself, and should really learn to shoot first, and shoot accurately, and pare away that vestigial conscience that he carried around like old luggage. Fel flipped the astromech a twenty-credit piece, which the droid caught with a manipulator, and pulled into its shell, locked away for future use. “You were right, Wrench. Shoulda listened to you.”

There was no witty quip, not a curse or a muttered oath to be found. Fel lifted his foot up on the console, willing the wound to stop throbbing. Wrench rolled toward him, tooting and whistling. “No thanks, buddy. I’ll be ok.” He stretched to get the stress out of his neck, felt the data disc in his pocket, fished it out. He held it up, in front of him, staring at his own reflection in the shiny surface. “Ok, you handsome devil. Tell me your secrets.”

Fel slid the disc into the terminal within easy reach, and began flipping through information, photos, vid clips, file intel… and the more he looked, the more his eyes furrowed, and a snarl formed on his lips. It was good. Real good. And utterly impossible if you were a no good, dirty smuggler with a ‘Wanted’ poster on the core worlds, a solid-wall-of-muscle ex-Republic mech with a cybernetic arm, and a skinny kid from a junk world. ”Oh, you gotta be kidding me…”

“Kidding about what?” Aellyn leaned against the door frame of the cockpit, holding a med kit in her hands. “No.. Habit, I like to know things.. You don’t have to tell me. I’ll have to earn my right to know but that’s if you allow me to stay. ” She moved and sat in the copilot seat. Her eyes looked over his leg. “If you want it…” She set the medkit on the console, turning her gaze outside. Aellyn crossed her arms. “My contact was an ex-trooper. He has helped me out in a lot of tight spots. For that I owe him everything. She paused.

“I’m Sorry. ” She added on.

It wasn’t that he was defeated, or that he couldn’t have told her to head for the closest portal to the hot place, if he wanted to. She was persistent, and he both hated that (at this exact moment) and admired it. And to be bluntly honest, he didn’t have enough fight left in him to chase her out of his flight deck. Wrench, on the other hand, bleated and whistled that maybe she should pop back onto the holonet, to look up ‘timing’ and ‘tact.’ Fel laughed at that, slapping the astromech on the radome, before replying to Aellyn.

“Could tell he was a clone as soon as I saw him, even from that distance. They have a poise and a certain posture that’s unmistakable, if you’ve spent any time around ‘em.” He looked at the medkit for a moment, then looked back out the viewport. He didn’t ask her contact’s name. Some things were better left unasked. “I like a planetoid with low atmo. Easier to see the Black. Easier to see what’s comin’ atcha.”

“Hm.” She nodded noting he had recognized her contact. Wyler wasn’t exactly hiding it and everyone who remembers a clone, met one, met them all. Aellyn sat in silence for a moment, wondering what he was looking at before she dropped in, wondering why he kept his leg bleeding all over the floor. Uncivilized was the word in her thoughts. Ultimately she decided to keep her mouth shut for once. She half liked the crew and maybe they would let her stay. Her mission was still doable even if detours were in the journey. Standing, she left the cockpit heading toward the galley.
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Hidden 11 days ago 11 days ago Post by Zoie Hart
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Zoie Hart That Girl

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Aellyn stood between the dejarik table and the small kitchen, her hands resting on her hips. Her eyes scanned over the mess that had piled up. Used pots laid on the counter, the meal the captain had cooked the other night, resting on the stove eye. Chewing her bottom lip, she rolled up her sleeves, deciding to take her frustration out on some pots. No one seemed to bother her, the ship was mostly quiet. The sounds of light snoring coming out from the pilots bunk room, the kid had fallen asleep. A good bed will do that. Wrench beeping in the cockpit, along with Fel. Thoughts of whatever was on that disc crossed her mind but figured she better just stay low. Jet, quiet in his room. The towel brushed the last bit of crumbs from the counter as she was finally satisfied with how put together it finally looked. Wiping her brow with her arm, she folded the towel, placing it on the now clean counter.

Stepping back she examined her work before heading left, across from the bathroom to her claimed bunk. Pressing a button on the wall panel, the door hissed shut behind her. Aellyn fell onto the bottom bed, pulling off her boots and letting them hit the floor. She was too tired to put them away. Falling back against the bed, her eyes staring at the bed above her. Her hands resting on her stomach as sleep overcame her, her world turning black.

She didn’t know how long she slept but it felt good to have a proper sleep. She swung her legs over the side, slipping the boots back on. Aellyn sat for a moment, listening, she didn’t hear anyone else moving about. Grabbing her pistol, she strapped it around her leg and pulled on her jacket. Stepping into the main room, no one was up and around. Stepping around the corner to one of the cargo bays, she began to rummage until surprisingly she found a small hover bike. It was big enough for a child. Where did he get this, she wondered. Pulling it out, she pushed it towards the ramp. Pressing the button, the ramp hissed as it lowered itself. She was starting to push the bike down the ramp, noticing the little pesky droid come her way.

“Look, I’m not stealing it. Just borrowing it. Headed to the settlement. The big guy is coming later for supplies. Just…Just don’t leave me.” She pleaded but the droid responded that he would if he had his way.

Stepping foot on the dry grass, pushing the bike up next to her. She hoped this machine still had life to it. Hearing a growl, she turned her head, scanning the area around the UA. The pilot did mentioned some nasty wildlife. Not taking chances, she mounted the bike, which struggled but turned on. Aellyn pressed the accelerator and the little bike took off toward the settlement.

The ride was almost like being in a hover car back on Coruscant. The wind in her air, she enjoyed the moment of peace. The settlement was just that, scraps put together to barely survive. She had seen a few places like this in the outer rim, one sure doesn’t hear about this way of life on the core world. Settling her bike, near some others. She saw a few settlers starting their day.

Old Man didn’t come with you?”

Aellyn turned and saw Abilene standing near by. She shook her head. “No, just me. Do you have a place that I can get a hot meal? Maybe a drink?”

The old lady, nodded her head to follow her, in which she did. Together stepping into a building not too far from where they were. It may have been early but it seemed like the establishment was a place to gather for most of the settlers. They all didn’t have much, that she could tell. Abilene pointed to an empty table as she settled into a chair. From a woman who was ready for a shoot out, to being somewhat friendly, Aellyn kept her guard up. Abilene set two bowls down, as she joined.

“Do you know who you are flyin’ with?” The lady started on.

“I have my guesses.” Aellyn looked down at her bowl.

“I didn’t poison it. I’m not that cruel. Fel, maybe. ” She noticed.

Aellyn hesitated for a moment, then dived into the warm contents. If she was going to die, at least she was full. The two women both ate in silence until the bowls were empty.

“What are you here for, are you here to salvage for parts?” The old lady leaned back in her chair.

“Something like that. If I can, of course.” Aellyn wanting permission.

“Sure, I’ll show you the yard.I have to ask ya. Brave to defend a man you hardly know. You seem like a smart lady. How did you end up with this lot?” They both stood, heading out to the scrap yard.

“Just lucky, I guess.” Aellyn stuck her hands in her jacket pockets, keeping up her guard as she followed Abilene to the scraps.
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Hidden 4 days ago Post by Archazen
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Archazen

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It had been a whirlwind of a day, one packed with events that even Jet couldn't fully unravel. The new additions to the crew, the chaos of the heist, the white-knuckle escape, and that tense encounter with Abilene—each moment blurred into the next. Now back aboard the ship, Jet casually tossed his holojournal onto the desk in his quarters. The journal was an old habit, a tool he'd picked up years ago to keep his thoughts in order. It served him well, especially on days like this, when his mind felt like it was chasing hyperspace trails. Not to mention, it was a much better use of time than wading into the middle of Fel and Aellyn’s argument.

They were at it, voices sharp enough to cut durasteel, but Jet figured it was better this way. For all their bickering, getting it all out in the open might just force them to understand each other. Or so he hoped.

Sighing, Jet peeled himself out of his chair and moved to his bunk. The bed groaned under his weight as he sank into the well-worn crevices he'd carved over countless nights. His body protested with a symphony of creaks and cracks—a reminder that fifty-plus years and ship life weren’t exactly kind bedfellows. But as Jet’s eyes closed, he couldn’t help but relish the rest he'd finally earned.

When Jet woke, the grogginess that clung to him was a good kind, the kind that spoke of a deep, well-deserved sleep. Sitting up, he perched on the edge of the bunk and rolled his shoulders, easing the tension coiled in them. Living on bunks like these for decades had taken its toll, but for all their discomfort, they were a constant Jet wouldn’t trade for anything. This was home.

He grabbed his rifle and tool belt, then made his way through the ship to the cargo bay, his boots echoing softly against the deck plating. The workbench, cluttered but familiar, greeted him like an old friend. From underneath it, Jet pulled out a battered storage box. To anyone else, its contents would seem like junk—a collection of wires, cables, and random odds and ends. But to Jet, it was far from scrap. It was his treasure trove of possibility.

Rummaging through the box, he pulled out the pieces he needed: an emitter, some wire, and a few scraps of metal. His hands moved instinctively, a mechanic’s precision born from years of working on speeders, ships, and anything else the galaxy threw his way. This wasn’t his first time putting together an emitter; after all, he’d reassembled the settlement’s beacon just yesterday. But this time was different. He didn’t need to protect a settlement—just himself.

As he worked, Jet’s mind wandered to the alternative: that old hoverbike collecting dust in the other bay. He smirked at the mental image of himself hunched over the tiny speeder, a mountain of a man crammed onto what was essentially a child’s toy. The thought alone was enough to make him chuckle. No, he’d take his chances on foot before subjecting himself to that spectacle.

With a final turn of his tools, the device was done—or at least, it looked done. Jet wasn’t one for perfectionism, especially when time was short, and materials shorter. Testing it wasn’t an option; the field was the test. He slapped a power cell—about the size of a ration canister—into the device and flipped the switch. The hum of energy told him it was working, for now. It would need to last just long enough to get him to the settlement and within range of their beacon.

Before he could head to the off-ramp, a rapid series of beeps and whistles cut through the quiet of the cargo bay. Jet turned to see Wrench rolling into view. The little droid chirped and whistled in quick succession, annoyed as the little thing usually was by people ignoring its advice or instructions.

“She took that ol’ thing? Aellyn?” Jet’s laugh rumbled in genuine surprise. “On the hoverbike? Ha! He shook his head, thoroughly amused by the idea. That battered hoverbike was barely functional on its best day, let alone after years of neglect. If Aellyn had gotten it running, it was either a small miracle—or sheer dumb luck. Still chuckling, Jet patted the emitter device he’d just finished building. “Guess that settles it then. Looks like I’m on foot,” he said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. Wrench let out a quick, sardonic whistle that almost sounded like a taunt. Jet just shook his head, smirking.

Jet made his way to the off-ramp, boots striking the metal deck with deliberate precision. He reached out to the console and pressed the button to lower the ramp. The hiss of hydraulics filled the air, followed by the whine of the motor as the ramp descended. It groaned under its own weight, the sound echoing faintly through the cargo bay. Jet stood motionless, rifle slung over his shoulder and emitter device clutched tightly in his hand, waiting for the ramp to settle into place with a muted clunk.

The planet stretched out before him, a harsh and unforgiving landscape painted in muted tones of browns and grays. The horizon was dotted with jagged cliffs and sparse vegetation, the kind of terrain that promised a treacherous trek. Jet took a step forward, the weight of his boots pressing into the compacted soil. His body tensed instinctively, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement. He wasn’t taking any chances—not with predators lurking.

The emitter hummed softly in his hand, an untested piece of ingenuity that Jet couldn’t fully trust just yet. He adjusted the power cell’s connection, ensuring it was seated tightly, though he doubted it’d last for much more than the trek ahead. His rifle’s presence offered some reassurance, but he knew better than to rely on it as his only line of defense. As far as he was concerned, if the emitter didn’t work, his aim was his last resort.

Jet moved cautiously, his steps measured and deliberate. His mind worked overtime, calculating distances, possible escape routes, and the emitter’s radius all at once. The air around him was still, almost unnervingly so, as if the hostile creatures that prowled this planet were watching from the shadows, biding their time. Every few steps, his head tilted just slightly as he listened for anything out of the ordinary.

The settlement was still a ways off, visible only as a faint shimmer in the distance, likely caused by the heat rising from the ground. It didn’t look much closer than it had when he’d started, but Jet kept moving forward, trusting his steady pace to get him there in one piece.

The emitter’s hum seemed louder now, or maybe Jet’s ears were just attuned to its sound. He kept it angled slightly outward, hoping its signal would hold true. The device was the culmination of all his experience and ingenuity, but as far as he was concerned, the real test would be whether it could keep those kriffing predators away. His grip tightened, and he muttered under his breath, “Don’t let me down.”

Jet’s boots pressed into the soil with every cautious step, his senses on high alert. The hum of the emitter felt weaker now, sputtering irregularly, but it was too late to turn back. The settlement shimmered faintly on the horizon. Then he heard it—a low, guttural growl that sliced through the quiet and froze him in place.

The sound came from his left, deep and resonant like thunder rolling through a canyon. Jet turned his head, his rifle shifting in his grip, as his gaze locked on the shadowy form emerging from the underbrush. It moved with predatory grace, low to the ground, its glowing eyes burning like molten embers. Jet’s breath hitched. One of those damned cats.

The creature began to circle him, growling deeply as its tail flicked with violent intent. Jet kept his rifle raised. His eyes darted to the shadows, watching for signs of more predators, knowing all too well that these kings of the food chain often hunted in packs. He forced his feet to keep moving toward the settlement, careful not to turn his back on the beast. The predator growled again, louder this time, its muscles coiled like springs.

Then it lunged.

The cat closed the distance in an instant, claws outstretched. Jet threw himself to the side, rolling hard against the ground, his emitter slipping from his grip. The creature’s claws tore into a nearby tree, splintering the bark and embedding themselves deeply. It snarled, thrashing to free itself as Jet scrambled to his feet.

He raised his rifle and fired two quick shots, the deafening cracks echoing. The first round struck the creature’s flank, the second grazed its shoulder, but instead of deterring it, the beast roared angrily. Its molten eyes locked onto Jet with renewed ferocity as it ripped its claws free from the tree and crouched low, readying itself for another attack.

Jet braced himself, muttering, “Oh, kriff..”

The cat leapt again, its powerful form colliding with Jet and sending him sprawling onto his back. Before he could react, the creature was on top of him, its molten eyes inches from his own. Jet managed to wedge his rifle horizontally between them, using it like a crude barrier to keep the snapping jaws at bay. The predator snarled and swiped at him, its claws tearing into his jacket and grazing his skin. Jet strained against the weight, his muscles burning with the effort of keeping those fangs away.

The rifle groaned under the pressure, its metal bending unnaturally. Then, with a sickening crack, the weapon snapped in two. The jagged pieces split in each hand.

Without hesitation, Jet thrust his mechanical arm into the creature’s maw. The beast recoiled, growling frantically as its teeth scraped against the unfamiliar metal.

He drove the splintered weapon into the creature’s snout with all his strength. Blood sprayed across his face as the beast roared in agony, thrashing violently but refusing to let go of Jet’s arm. He stabbed it again, this time forcing the jagged edge deep into the sensitive flesh of its mouth. The predator choked and stumbled backward, pulling Jet upright with a sharp tug.

Seeing his opening, Jet jabbed the weapon one final time, driving it into the beast’s throat. The predator howled, releasing Jet’s arm as it staggered back, blood dripping from its snout and maw. It stared at him for a long moment, its burning eyes dimming slightly, before slinking off into the shadows with a guttural growl of defeat.

Jet stood there, chest heaving, his mechanical arm slick with blood and saliva, the once-pristine metal was now scratched, dented, bent, its surface marred by the creature’s powerful jaws. It looked less like the reliable tool he’d depended on for years and more like the contents of his scrap box—a patchwork of parts and pieces. The jagged piece of rifle was still clutched tightly in his hand, his body aching and his jacket torn to shreds. He wiped his face with his sleeve, muttering under his breath, “Next time, build a bigger kriffing emitter.”

He flexed the arm experimentally, feeling the grind of misaligned components. It wasn’t perfect, but it would hold—for now. Jet muttered under his breath, “Guess I’ll be adding this to the repair list.”

Clutching the jagged halves of his broken rifle in his other hand, Jet shuffled forward, his steps heavy and uneven. Every muscle in his body ached, his jacket hung in tatters, and his face was streaked with dirt and blood. The settlement continued to shimmer in the distance, a promise of safety that now felt agonizingly far away.

The broken rifle pieces felt heavy in his grip, their sharp edges a reminder of the fight he’d just survived. Jet tightened his hold on them, his knuckles white. They weren’t much, but they were better than nothing. If another predator decided to test him, he’d be ready—or as ready as he could be.

As he trudged forward, relief began to wash over him, but he didn’t let it slow his pace. Jet kept moving. The settlement was close now, its walls coming into view. Jet straightened slightly, his grip on the rifle pieces loosening as the promise of safety finally felt real. Only then would he allow himself to breathe, his shoulders sagging as the tension began to fade.

Jet glanced down at his arm, the battered metal glinting faintly in the light. “You held up,” he said quietly, speaking more to himself than the arm itself. Then, with a weary chuckle, he added, “Barely.”

He turned toward the settlement gates, his steps still heavy but his resolve intact. The fight had left its mark, but Jet was alive—and that was enough for now.
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The settlement gates loomed ahead, their metal frames catching the morning light. By now, the sun had risen high enough to warm the air, casting a golden glow across the patchwork of buildings and pathways inside. The gates stood open, unguarded, a quiet assurance that the newly restored emitter was doing its job. Jet dragged his boots over the threshold, pausing just past the entrance.

He threw his head back and inhaled deeply, the tension in his shoulders easing just enough. The safety of the settlement wrapped around him like an old blanket. For the first time since he stepped off the UA, Jet allowed himself a moment to breathe. He hadn’t realised how much the trek, and the fight, had weighed on him until now.

Then, slowly, he began his shuffle deeper in. His steps were heavy and haphazard, each one kicking up small clouds of dust that clung to his old battered boots. The broken halves of his rifle hung heavy in his grip, their jagged edged glinting faintly in the mid-morning sun.

As he walked, but a few would turn their heads. Some of them shot him curious glances, their expressions a mixture of surprise and maybe even a touch of concern. While others looked at him with colder–disdain, perhaps, or even satisfaction. Their eyes seemed to say ‘Good. He deserves it.’ He ignored it, fixing his gaze forward.

The scent of oil and rust hit him first, carried on the faint breeze as he approached the scrapyard. The space opening up before him, filled with heaps of metal and machinery piled without a care, their edged silhouettes casting long, sharp shadows. He paused at the edge of the yard, his eyes scanning the expanse for what he might be carrying back, somehow, but his eyes spotted familiarity.

“No…a security module. Not a hyperdrive. “ Aellyn rounded a large pile of scraps as she stood on top of a medium sized cargo sled. The droid that was operating it seemed a bit questionable. The sled came to a sudden halt, which she immediately reached out, grabbing a hold of the nearest crate. “If I wasn’t needing your help, you would be part of the junk pile. Kriff.” Sighing, ignoring the droid's beeps and woos as she turned her head. She cracked a smile, seeing the familiar form standing just at the entrance.

“You have looked better…” She waved him over as she hopped off the sled. Dirt kicked up as she hit the ground. She noticed the torn jacket and dried blood. He must have been caught by one of the local animal life. “Found a few things, you can look them over and see what you think.”

He chuckled, it could have been the understatement of the year. “Yeah, I reckon I look worse than that hoverbike you came in on.” He walked over to the sled she had moments before been standing on, dropping his scrap-rifle onto its bed, near the side. He grabbed the side with his good hand and hoisted himself up, quickly looking over the scrap Aellyn had gathered so far. “Not a bad haul, all things considered..” he tucked his hand into his pocket retrieving the holopad with the requirements. “Not bad at all..” He murmured to himself.

“Thanks, trying to find a security module. The one on the ship is so ancient, a kid could hack it.” Her stare turned to the pieces of metal that was once a rifle. Must have been a really big animal, she thought. She turned around as Jet examined the contents already on the sled. Bending over, she picked up a piece of scrap, tossing it onto another nearby pile.

”Hmm, we might be able to turn something up but.. That’s not exactly my area.” He turned to the droid running the sled. ”We need some new injectors for the power plant, CEC YG-4210, You know where you got some of those?” The little guy swirled it’s head in a full circle, letting out a long whistle as he did when the sled jolted forward, Jet grabbing ahold of the rail beside him, dropping his holopad onto the deck as he did. ”Kriff!”

“Hey!“ Aellyn yelled, hopping on at the last moment as the sled jolted forward.

The sled sped along through the piles of scrap, narrowly avoiding colliding with the stacks, as Aellyn hung onto the side rails. “Kriffing, droid.” She muttered to herself. “This scrapyard isn’t much. We would have had better luck on Lotho. If we can’t find a module, then we leave it. This place has been salvaged enough and the people don’t have much by the looks of it.”

”Yeah, well.. that was the plan on Lotho but then.. Well, it didn’t exactly go to plan.” He spoke with a tinge of hesitance. Not wanting Aellyn to feel like he was blaming her, far from it, even. Her quick thinking actually managed to get them through Lotho with a modicum of ease, if you could call it that. No-one was killed, kriff, no was even hurt, but it was because of the change of plans that he never got the chance there to grab some parts they could use.

“Sorry for stepping in, ya know, changing plans and all. Especially with my contact. It wasn’t right to do that.” Aellyn finally admitting out loud that she screwed up.

Without any warning, the sled came to a stop. Despite holding onto the rail, his arm, now effectively a chuck of scrap weight dangling from his shoulder, managed to throw him off the front, landing on his back with a resounding thud.

Aellyn slid forward, one of the stacked crates falling on her. “Kark!” She shoved the crate to the side as she leaned forward, seeing the older mechanic on the ground. “You good?”

He coughed, wheezing slightly as he spoke, the air knocked out of him, “This is not my karking day,” he rolled over, propping himself against a nearby heap.

Aellyn hopped off the sled, bending over Jet. “Doesn’t seem like it. We can laugh about it later. Your arm is in bad shape. Tell me what you need, I’ll find it for you and let’s get you back to the ship.” She turned to the sled and picked up his holopad. “Alright, injectors… Hey droid…where are they?” She yelled out as the droid's metal dome, whirled around as it made several beeping sounds.

Jet pushed himself to his feet, ”I’m not out just yet,” he had been through worse and he wasn’t going to just let a few scratches, a winded chest, a crippled metal arm and a droid going through memory wipe avoidance stop him. He followed Aellyn over to where the Droid had indicated, finding three injectors. ”I guess that thing’s not completely lost it,” he mumbled to Aellyn, pointing to the injectors, ”We only need the two but we’ll take ‘em for a spare.” He looked back to the sled and waved to the droid, who moved over and picked up the injectors with the sled's magnetic clamps, and placed it with the rest of the junk they had secured, for the first time seeming to be able to do its job without any creativity, ”You good to head back? I’m just about done with this damn rock.”

“I couldn't agree more. I need a place with a bit more life and a decent cantina. She shrugged, watching Jet place the last of the scraps they needed. Once the cargo was secured, both her and Jet boarded the sled. This time prepared for the droid's lack of driving abilities. The sled had stopped outside the local cantina, just at the entrance to the settlement. The little hoverbike still sat there, surprisingly. She motioned for the sled to take off toward the UA. She quickly mounted the bike and took off after the sled. Maybe they would still have some luck and not run into the local wildlife, Jet had already had enough. As Aellyn caught up with the sled, he couldn’t help but snicker. He definitely thought the walk was better than the ride, despite the hazards that came with it.
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