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As the Jedi's ship docked with the Rustbucket, so too did the A-Z-Z-3, the metallic hissing and tightening of durasteel and duraplast against a magnetic field could be heard as all three vessels shuddered momentarily, until the trio of vessels had synchronized and flew as one. To the untrained...

The sluggish freighter had finally reached the derelict vessel. From the initial visual scans, it had been surmised the vessel did not sustain a significant amount of carbon scoring on it's exterior. That was a good sign. Meant the vessel's hyperdrive hadn't decided to send half the ship here...

"Jedi! Colonel! He's a Jedi!" The sharp twang of deep celtic intonation could be heard from the vessel's mess, their non-commissioned officer in command, desperately trying to inform both Lieutenants, Second and Commander respectively. Luckily they'd heard the audio just as well as anyone else...

The man's answer- at least she thought he was male, the voice had a bit of a metallic twang to it, as though he was talking through a helmet - were satisfactory and pretty much exactly what Brea had come to assume. Probably some small band of local system pirates thought the man's vessel was...

"Kriff" "Seriously. What did he do, fly at 20MGLT directly into an asteroid?" The description that the being had given concerning their vessel was a most concerning one indeed. It didn't sound like much of anything on the vessel was functional. How he even had life support systems running with...

-Music- "Espaa! We're getting a distress signal! I think." "Sir? You 'think'? Is the damn thing blinking or not?" There was an awkward silence from the cockpit for a moment, as Brea turned her attention back to the guts that had been torn out from the ship's hallway. The A-Z-Z-3 was a slow...

I don’t remember Jedi being that vicious… Brea thought back to the one time she’d angered Gram, remembering the entire room shaking, and shook her head. Eileen was never the kind of gal to lose her cool - that kid had handed an angry woman a laser sword. That wasn’t exactly… the wisest call...

-White Death- The ground shook with the force of an explosion in the distance. Suddenly, the area was swarming with the screaming of star fighter engines. A freighter touched down, ripping apart a section of the market square to pour forward a force of Zygerrians at least a battalion strong...

“Wow, thank you, that's really not necessary. No really, please, I'll pick it up! Oh, thank you so much! I love Shili already!” Brea’s head was spinning. Both literally and figuratively. Not that she had made an effort to drop the eaves, the Vahla had nonetheless heard the candid remarks ahead...

"...As far as I've heard, the fight's still on! The tractor's active, and the whale's not gone! The shipwright makes his regular call, to encourage the captain, crew and all!! Soon may the quartermaster come... To bring us sugar and spice and rum. One day, when the tonguing is done, we'll take...

“Solid copy, Badger 2, no movement yet. You’re clear to move up. Over.” Her team was pushing farther ahead into the wreckage, but Brea stayed still. As still and silent and the corpses littering the surrounding area. If it wasn’t for her weapon, any observer would assume that’s exactly what she...

-Music- Brea’s HUD activated with a satisfying hum, illuminating the interior of her domed helmet. Her rifle’s scope was now soft-linked to her visor, allowing the helmet to do a good deal of the measurements for her. The Vahla was thankful, especially considering the E-11S was prone to...

-Music- ”Recruit Espaa, Sir. I mean... uh, Corporal.” This was strange. To say the least, as Brea had never once considered joining a military branch until this past week. With the AMS pandemic quickly becoming an extinction level event - and every member of her family acting accordingly to...

Brea smiled slightly as she raised her Sabacc cards to eye level, gazing across the small camp expanse at her Tusken opponents. They had traded a few valuable treasures on her trip down to Wayfar in exchange for passage and safety. The resulting communion brought on a classic bout of gambling...

-It’s Friday, I’m In Love- Well, this place was as charming as a bantha’s backside, that much was pretty clear. But if it could lead Brea to a way to make credits, then she was more than happy to wait it out. The planet itself was as drab, boring and dangerous as her homeworld - just with less...