deegee

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Bumping. (In the night.)

1x1 long-term The Boys, or original RP. Specific characters, and faceclaim requests inside. [NSFW][18+][MxF][Discord&PMs]

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'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

“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.

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

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.

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

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.”

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

“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.

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

@Score1 thanks Score1! (though I'm not sure about this whole 'force' thing...) jkjk...

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

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.

'Floating' (Star Wars 2 BBY)

It was time. Fel was not a fan of unnecessary communication. Unnecessary meaning, not giving out more information than was absolutely needed for forward momentum, and, often – he just didn’t really like talking to folks. Easier to stay silent. Let others draw their own conclusions. But this could be life or death. And there were others besides him and Jet who could get dead. So after he had entered the coordinates for their final jump and locked in the hyperdrive, he quickly began going over what needed to be said. He didn’t finesse it too much… he wasn’t saying words over a fallen soldier or something (yet…) So after collecting his thoughts (for better or worse) and watching once more the swirling void outside the viewport, the spacer activated the internal comms once more. ”We’re in the lane, folks. Forty minutes to Abilene orbit. I’d like a word with y’all. In the common room.” He clicked off, only realizing afterward that he hadn’t ordered the meeting, but also hadn’t said ‘pretty please.’ Oh well. Either they’d be there, or they wouldn’t.

He ventured aft, finding Wrench was seeking him out. The little droid started immediately bleeping and whirring its message, which Fel waved off. ”Not now, Tin man. Tell me later. We’ll have plenty of time planetside. Whether we want it, or not…” The astromech insisted in tweeting and hooting again, trying to interject, but Fel shut him down a second time. ”Gorram it, Wrench, we’ve got important things to discuss. You too. You get a vote. So get yer can out here and tell me about your complaints or how I can be a 1.2% better Captain, or how much better you’d do at my job, later on. Kark it all…”

He waited a few minutes, leaning against the table where they had just completed their meal. After Zane appeared, they were all accounted for. Aellyn leaning against a bulkhead on the far side of the common space, barely lit by the dim light spilling from her room, Jet seated at the end of the table, the Doc at what seemed to be his preferred location at the Dejarik table, Wrench in the middle of the floor, radome rotating from face to face, looking at each of their assembled ‘crew’ in turn. Currently his servos were the only sounds in the compartment, aside from the gentle swaying of the gear hanging in the galley.

“So. Abilene. Well – it ain’t actually called Abilene. Don’t rightly have a name. But most folk who know it even exists, call it after the lady runs the joint. This thing we did for her… I appreciate you all for it. But that don’t mean I trust her more’n I could throw her. We have… history. She might be about as happy to see me as we’d be happy to find an Imperial Cruiser waiting for us at the drop. But that’s for me, and Jet, to worry about. Business is business, and she’ll deal with us.” He crossed his arms, realizing he was rambling. Talking stuff out was a fool’s game. Kark it.

”...what we need to discuss is our arrival. And yes, you all get a vote. Because it’s all our skins. Yours and mine. And when we discuss this, I need y’all to be selfish. Because ain’t nobody going to look out for your necks besides you, and me.” a pause ”When we arrive at Abilene, we can land at the settlement. It’ll be easiest to offload the goods. And it will be safer, as concerns the local pest problem on Abilene.” He looked from face to face, only receiving understanding (and more than a touch of sympathy) from Jet. ”Cats. Best I can describe ‘em. Predatory cats. Kings of the food chain there. Tear a man down as easy as a squad of stormies with ‘auto aim.’ One of the things what was taken from Abilene was an emitter that kept the damnable things at bay. One of the Admiral’s little passive measures to ensure the colony didn’t survive. Kill ‘em without firing a shot… anyways. We land close in, we avoid most of the cats, but we deal with Abilene, and we don’t get to dictate terms of the handover. We land far out, we can tell her how and when she gets her goods. And I tells ya now… we may have to play hard ball with the old lady to get what we deserve. But we land far out, every one of us will need to grow a third eye to watch out for them cats. And you’ll all have to be armed, if’n you plan to leave the ship.”

He looked from face to face. ”What’s it gonna be? Everyone has to vote. This can’t be just me tellin’ it like it is, or how I want it to be.”

Jet took a slow breath and rubbed his chin as he thought. It sure would be more beneficial for them to have the bargaining chip that would be dictating the meeting but.. “I vote we land close.” he paused, letting his vote settle in before he continued, “You and I, Fel, we’ve seen these things, we know what we’re looking for, we’ve seen what they can and will do but the others.. They’d be blind to it.” He leant back into his chair, folding his arms, turning his head to speak to the whole group “Not saying you guys ain’t capable but these things.. Damn fast, strong, smart when they wanna be. It’s a risk, but that’s just my two creds.” He gave Fel a knowing look, one with a slightly arched eyebrow. He appreciated the democratic approach probably the most out of all of them but this could end up being a bigger risk than it needed to be.

Aellyn waited, waited for others to answer. The Doc wouldn’t care, in fact he answered the way she thought. Anything to stay away from danger, he voted to land close. No reason to be killed by the wildlife. She didn’t care if they landed close or not, she found it more humorous that the smuggler wanted a democracy. Vote? Pshhh. She wanted her cut and by the sound of things, the old kark wasn’t going to share. Aellyn’s mind whirled, if the Admiral was here, stole the emitter, among other things, then there was one emitter in the cargo hold. To her, they had the leverage. “I say…park out in the middle… let her come to us. She wants what is hers…let her come get it. We risked our necks…she can risk hers. Otherwise, pack up shop, and let's go sell her stuff to the highest bidder.” Aellyn didn’t move, her voice as selfish as they would come.

Zane sat, listening to Fel and the others while shifting uneasily in the slightly-baggy technician’s suit he was wearing, chewing on the tip of his thumb thoughtfully. He didn’t really know much about meet-ups aside from those few he’d gotten into on Lotho, but Parlo talked about them all the time. Tried to knock a few of those lessons into the kid. So, when most everyone had said their piece, he finally chimed in, choosing his words carefully and deliberately while he leaned against the corridor bulkhead.

”Well, we know they’re gonna want that ‘emitter’ thing, right? Prolly more than anythin’ else, they’ll tear down half a planet for that. Which means they won’t think twice about gunnin’ us down if we’ve got it on us and are tryin’ to sell it back. We prolly need to make sure that thing even works first, an’ if it does, we either plop it down one spot an’ meet her bunch somewhere else, or make ‘em come to us like the lady said. Landing in the Laigrek’s den where all their hired guns are seems like a fool’s errand, no offense. But if we can power that emitter, then the cats can stay off our backs long enough to get the deal done. Maybe we even rig it with charges or somethin’ and keep our thumb on the switch til she deals with us an’ deals rightly. Keeps us from being riddled with holes, and keeps them honest long enough for us to get our pay and get clear. Also puts them on their back foot, having to come meet with us. The less heads up they get, the better, too. Gives ‘em less time to organize. That’s all I can think up anyway. But y’all know your ‘friend’ better than I do…an’ I’m as green as they come, so…do what you will, I guess. But my vote is land out, like the lady said.” Hoping he didn’t ramble too long, he shrugged for a moment, and then went back to chewing the tip of his thumb thoughtfully.

Eyes turned to the little droid at the corner of the table. Wrench’s radome swivelled, a sound like gritty bearings, tooted and whirred for a few seconds, bleeped and blooped, and then was silent. Short and sweet, to the point. Fel’s droid was worried about the ship. The cats were a concern for the crew. The locals were a concern for the crew. None of the arrangements listed were a concern for the ship. Parts, tools, supplies and fuel were at the settlement. It made more sense to land at the settlement.

After a moment though, the little, old, patchwork astromech lit up again, bleeping four or five more additions, which loosely translated to “That said, you all have a higher than average chance of dying at the hands of Abilene and her hired hands. ‘Intelligent’ adversaries carry a greater threat. It would be unfortunate to carry on without you, though I would. Perhaps it would be best if you set down elsewhere.”

Fel shook his head and chuckled. So according to Wrench, aside from the probability of them getting dead through incompetence and being far too squishy, it would be easier to land in town. He thought for a moment before conceding, ”I’m inclined to agree with Aellyn, Zane and the rust-bucket. Fact is, I hadn’t even considered setting up the emitter. That’s not bad at all. Jet – you think we can rig it to the core? It’d sure make life easier for dealin’ with Abilene. We wouldn’t have to worry as much about being a meal.” He straightened up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. “OK folks. That’s it then. I’ll contact the settlement, let them know we’ll be in the world soon. Maybe even let them know we got the job done.” He smirked. ”Thanks. Oh, and I still think if you’re leaving the ship for any reason, any of you, you be armed when you do so. And we go in pairs. Nobody out walking alone, doing work on the ship alone. Ship’s Armory, otherwise known as my quarters, is available to you, if’n you need a shooter.”