Jedi Rescue OnNar Shaddaa

[Snake Eater]

Clint awoke in his cell, the same as the past ten years, only one thing was different. During the past decade, guards have come and gone, interrogation techniques both brutal and humane, there was only one common denominator and that was his location. Like the majority of War Prisoners, Clint was sent to the Kessel Spice Mines, but today he was somewhere unknown to him. His mind began to wonder about his friends: soldiers, policemen, other Jedi and his friend Ke-.

"Get up you!" an unfamiliar voice rang throughout the passageway, "we're about to dock."
"Where are we?"
"Nar Shaddaa, the place of common villainy and scum."
Why are we in Hutt Territory?

Clint watched the man disappear down the corridor filled with what seemed to be other prisoners, he was too weak to sense if they were his friends or not. The twenty-nine year old former Jedi Padawan let his mind wander back to his past when he lived in his home, his real home, where he learned that his fellow Jedi were more than assets. His first few friends were ones he met looking for his master, a wookiee whose named escaped him, and he only known them for a few days before the Sith arrived. His teachings made him realize that his order was more important than himself, he was part of something bigger, the Sith was unable to turn him.

I know their out there, they have to be looking for us. This is where I make my move.

(((Anyone care to NPC?)))

 

[Darth Tak]

Why was a ten-year old Huttlet here? His mother wanted him to experience the world. What a waste. Acegik didn't even know how to speak... but there he was in his hover chair being guarded and closely monitored.
Why would a Hutt make their baby watch some slaves? The experience. Experience was a big deal for a tiny Huttlet like Acegik. But there he was. A few slaves where brought out of the ship. Acegik didn't what was going to happen. He was a little stupid spoilt Huttlet watching slaves, probably going to be punished in some way or another.

 

[atlantis737]

Introducing Lane Sha'ada

(((starring NPC Brann Hasani and his pilot droid POM-7)))
Lane Sha'ada buttoned up the rivets on the access panel for the XS Stock freighter, Glamorous Gamorr. It was an ancient starship owned by his friend Brann Hasani, a man on Gamorr. Brann had saved Lane's butt several times when dealing with "traders" loyal to the Hutt Cartel.
"Brann, why'd you have to send me a ship that you pulled out of a mausoleum? Especially with this stupid pilot droid that came from an even MORE ancient tomb!"
The pilot droid was POM-7, a redesignated OOM series pilot battle droid. Brann had bought it from a private collection of Trade Federation relics before repairing it and reprogramming it (to make it more pilot and less battle), and then slaving it to the ship's main computer.
"Alright, POM-7. Fire up the thruster," Lane spoke into the comlink.
"Roger, Roger!" the droid responded.
There was the sound of capacitors charging before the maneuvering thruster blasted out with weaponized force.
"DIAL BACK THE THROTTLE CALIBRATOR! DIAL IT BACK!" Lane screamed.
"Whaaaaaaaaaat?" the droid replied, cluelessly.
"Oh you useless piece of junk..."
Lane dashed up the boarding ramp, sprinted to the cockpit, and turned down the throttle calibration knob.
"Echuta! You could've killed us both! Couldn't you hear the throttle capacitor charging up? I know it needed full power before the repairs, but with all of the circuits running, it would've overloaded and blown up!" he screamed at the droid.
"Master Lane, please, calm yourself. Such volumes will only serve to overload my microphones, and then you will have to replace them," Lane's M-TD droid, M-T4 cooed.
Lane ignored M-T4 and left the cockpit. He walked into my shop and locked all the doors.
"K-3C, I'm going to deliver a ship. Keep the place secure while I'm gone."
A mechanical barking noise came from the back room, where Lane's K-9 droid was sleeping.
"M-T4, are you programmed to understand Gamorrese?"
"Not at the moment, sir."
Lane slipped behind the desk and plugged a Gamorrese translation datachip into M-T4.
"Wipe Pak-Pak from your databanks. That should give you enough space for Gamorrese," he told M-T4.
"Pak-Pak has been wiped from my memory. Gamorrese gas been downloaded," the droid replied.
Lane unplugged the datachip and put it back behind the counter. He picked up my spacer's chest and headed back out to Glamorous Gamorr.
"Alright, POM-7. Take us over to the spaceport so I can register our departure from the planet," Lane commanded.
"Roger, roger!"
Arriving at the spaceport, Lane found two labor droids and handed one of them the keycard to my hangar.
"There's an X-83 fighter, 'Stellar Angel', in hangar 72. Load it into one of the cargo bays on this ship," Lane told them.
"Understood!"
It was nice to not hear "Roger, roger!" for the first time in a week.
"Sha'ada, what are you doing! My instructions are to take the ship back to Gamorr myself when you are finished with the repairs," POM-7 blurted into the comlink.
"Come on, POM-7, I'm not stupid. I'm not letting this ship out of my sight until I get my payment," he growled. There was no response from POM-7.
Lane headed over to the spaceport office to file the paperwork for their departure from Tattooine and arrival to Gamorr. Upon his return, the labor droid handed him back the keycard and Lane walked up the boarding ramp.
"Sha'ada, what did you load into this ship? I am not authorized to transport any cargo in this ship at this time," POM-7 demanded.
"Shut up, POM. How else am I supposed to get home? It's just a small starfighter. Relax," Lane growled. He was getting sick of POM-7's wiry voice.
The ride on to Gamorr was uneventful. Lane took a nap in the Captain's quarters and M-T4 woke him up when the ship exited hyperspace. Lane walked out of the ship when they landed and ordered the labor droids to unload his starfighter.
"Just register what docking bay it's in and I can find it later," he told them.
Lane walked off to go find Brann.
About an hour later, he found Brann in a bar. The Sullustan wasn't terribly wasted, but the spirits were taking effect quickly.
"Brann!" Lane greeted.
"Ahh, Lane! What brings you heere?" He was already starting to slur his words.
"Well, I got your ship finished," Lane explained.
"Oh..." His face fell.
"Brann, tell me you didn't gamble away my payment..."
"It was just a trip to *hic* Naar Shadaaaa with one of my *hic* associates..."
"Brann, so help me, if you've ripped me off, so help me I'll..."
Brann seemed to sober up at the prospect of me using my imagination.
"Look, Lane, hey! Buddy! You know me, you know I'll pay!"
"Brann, I invested good capital and a week's worth of labor into rebuilding most of the systems on that ship. The bill is 5,000 credits and if you can't pay, I'll repossess the ship, and that annoying little pilot droid, too," Lane growled.
"Alright, look. There's a Jedi Padawan who owed me some money about 10 years ago. Supposedly he died in the Battle of Coruscant, but when I was in Nar Shadaa, I heard some stuff from a drunk Sith trainee or whatever that he's being transported to the planet. Apparently the Jedi and the Rebels have heard it too because there's talk of a reward for rescuing him. I'm not willing to risk my standing with the Hutts by rescuing a Padawan for such a small sum, but if you did it... you could get the reward money and I could claim the debt from him and pay you."
Lane cast Brann a suspicious look.
"Lane, I'm desperate right now, but I wouldn't send you on a wild goose chase into Sith territory."
Lane still held his glare.
"I'll throw in a Sienar Augmentor."
Lane cocked an eyebrow.
"A real one?" he questioned.
"One hundred percent genuine. I intercepted the shipment myself... I've sold off all but one set. It'd go great on your little starfighter," he pleaded.
"I'll be back after I collect the bounty for the Jedi. And if you're wrong about this, I'll repossess your ship AND the augmenter set."
Brann swallowed nervously.
Lane walked out of the bar. Back at the spaceport, he found his fighter and threw his spacer's chest in the small cargo space he had added for transporting goods, small amounts of spices, and the occasional person. He strapped on my crash helmet and began firing up various systems.
"Stell, you awake?" He asked the ship.
"At the flip of a switch! What's up?" Stellar Angel replied in a cheerful tone.
Out of all of the modifications Lane made to the fighter, adding a vocabulator to the built-in astromech droid was his favorite. After a few modifications to the droid's personality, there were no issues with allowing the ship to go indefinitely without memory wipes - thanks to his reprogramming, it never developed the obstinate streaks that were so common with other unwiped X-83's, so there was little danger of the AI putting anyone in danger. And to boot, the droid always knew how to cheer him up.
"We're heading to Nar Shadaa. Ready for takeoff?"
"Time to shine!" the ship responded.
Lane fired up the engines and the starfighter rocketed off into the sky. As soon as we left the atmosphere, Stellar Angel took over and entered hyperspace.