Well that kick had certainly kicked the shit out of this pirate. He flew backward and fell into that fountain and hell followed him.
Yet the boot to the chest basically just clipped him and fortunately it didn’t crack or break his ribs as far as he could see. The last thing Sage needed was a...
Sage really wasn’t getting paid enough for this shit. Well, in hindsight, he wasn’t getting paid at all on account of having a botched job.
Take the delivery, Sage, they said. He said in his head as he made his way ahead. Steal the shipment from the other person. It’ll be a piece o’ cake, they...
Sage was slightly surprised to find this Pau’an guy behead his ally, someone who clearly wasn’t a pirate, after the pirate had thrown him in his opponent’s general direction but honestly he didn’t really have time to theorize the rationality of it.
Upon spotting the Judo chop for the top of his...
This sniper certainly had the height advantage but was just as disadvantaged trying to aim at their targets throughout all these containers. That surely explained why they kept moving; as much to get a better position as to pick between their targets.
There were four targets, weren’t there? Me...
Sage had never met Derek until that moment, hadn’t even known his name was Derek until one of Sage’s other opponents proclaimed “DEREK LOOK OUT!” just as Sage took aim and blew a bolt through Derek’s skull and face and promptly dropped him to the ground in a sorry state.
“Don’t get up.”
That...
Nearly as soon as Sage had begun to run had someone grabbed him by the high collar of his tan jacket. Out from behind the container, in to the corner of the building or behind it or whatever. Rather, more like out of the frying pan and into the fire?
“Running,” Sage answered the demanded...
Sage stood at the screen longer than he normally would have as his collection of crates was slowly not coming together by any means of this galaxy’s galactic idiocy when it came to its idiots.
“No, no,” Sage no’d. “I said ferry the crates of treasure to the east wing, the empty crates to the...
The door opened. Usually this would be the moment when the passengers would promptly and politely exit the container that served as a makeshift spaceship in a fashionable line into the bright outside to live out their miserable lives.
Instead, Sage stood there brandishing not a bag or backpack...
In A Container
Sage'tare Baracco
Zaia Krodas
Sage met the black visor of that blue white helmet and wondered about the eyes behind it. What color were the eyes of this woman? Vornskr signet. Hmm. Black. Grey. Red?
She spoke the Mandalorian pirate’s name just then, repeated it back to him, as...
“Weird little name, Draugr,” Sage offered as he leaned against the container. He figured the best thing he could do besides wait on a response was wait on a response while leaning and talking. “Sounds like a bug I stepped on once.”
“Wait wait wait. I think I set this up for poker not rummy...
“I’ll bring it back to life, then.”
Sage cocked a brow the Mandalorian’s way. He wasn’t sure what to make of the purple black hippopotamus just yet. This one has spirit.
“That’s the ticket!”
If she could bring that control panel back to life as quickly as a rabbit breeds rabbits then all the...
Leaning back from hunching over his violin to protect it, patting it and keeping position in the container's corner, the pirate peeked past the slit between the crates to glimpse the idiot who had mistaken him for Tarre Vizsla.
At least Zaia made more sense. She was actually asking a question...
“You don’t recognize each other? She’s a hippo. Are you sure you haven’t met?”
“Nope. I don’t recognize my own toilet when I’m drunk enough but I'm all out of rum and I definitely don’t recognize that bubbly voice, never mind Uncle Steven.”
He just blinked back to the moment she mentioned...
All things considered, there were worse ways to be imprisoned and worse prisons. At least in this container the pirate prisoner had a violin to play with.
Unless he was a liar to begin with given he is a pirate.
As for what might be hidden within or beneath the violin, if anything, that was...
Zaia… If there was a planet somewhere out there named Zaia, well, here was one pirate who just might like to explore it, like an island in an ocean, for it was a glorious name, and hers was a gorgeous face. Helmet, anyway.
“Interesting choice.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Who are you? And why are you here?”...
“Over here,” a voice would beckon amid a violin gently played with. From shadows, from the void, where the artificial sunlight of this city did not illuminate the inside of the container.
At whose corners stood the Sector Ranger, Zad Ruzed, and the Deucalala Draugr Whatever, and the other...
The violin.
Sweet as a peach.
Elegance so splendid.
Sweet as my very violence.
It was the first thing that the crew of the Keeper’s Wish had heard upon opening their doors and, to that, one would have to agree, that itself was the smartest thing they had agreed on doing.
The strings. The bow...
The coin rolls.
Metallic. Cold.
Across fingers.
As eyes linger.
He sits in the cockpit of his ship.
Looking between all its displays.
Till his gaze tilts to the distance.
To the stars and to naked space.
At another ship, to be specific. “Ah, there she is,” the Captain grinned. “Just as I...
-PING!- The gold coin flipped up from the thumb and landed back in the hand. Its owner, a Zabrak man in a casual stance.
He was a captain—of his own ship, that is, but the Endless Song was gone for the moment with his new employment. Though, he did not stand alone.
The crewmate of the Moguls...