A Slight Miscommunication

[Beta12]

Planet Ithor, shortly after the Sharkpocolypse.
​

WHAM

Dyson's eyes shot open, revealing the blood vessels branching from his violet eyes. It had been the fourth time he had fallen asleep since the Lux had entered hyperspace, and the fourth time he had been woken by the beast in the co-pilot chair. Though he couldn't pick out the blaster from the bulk of the creature beside him, the constant threat of sudden-death-by-blaster hung in the air as thick as morning fog. "You know..." His voice, as indignant as ever, seemed especially loud in the small confines of the shuttles cockpit. The dim glow of the multi-colored lights in the ceiling, and the lights of the control panels, brought the shade of his skin back to the deep red of his youth. "I can't actually fly this thing if I fall asleep, while flying." Having expected a deep, rumbling chuckle from the shark, the young Zeltron remained in his original position. However, the absence of that familiar sound finally roused Dyson from his stupor. After peeling his cheek off of the controls below him, the young red man turned his gaze onto the jungle world of Ithor, hanging delicately before the shuttle's view screen.

Though kilometers off, the green and blue jewel shone verdantly beneath the misty clouds of its humid atmosphere. If there was ever a place to exact a drug deal, it was the jungles of that very planet. The Ithorians were about as touchy with their plants as they were with their wildlife, going so far as to enact laws about setting foot in their "sacred jungles". They went so far as to construct cities that would float above the surface, so the jungle beneath could not be soiled. Despite their best efforts, maintaining tight control over a world spanning jungle was a bit of a daunting task. After a century of peace within the Republic, the regulations had become rather lax.

"Right." The Smuggler began, as he hoisted himself back into a sitting position. Though the presence of the Zeltron woman still tugged at the back of his mind, Dyson put little effort into actually trying to spot her. If anything, the Shark man had tied her up and stashed in in the corner of the room while he had slept. The thought passed through the young man's head as quickly as it entered, and his eyes were once again glued to the controls. "We should still be on schedule, a bit ahead even, despite the uh... incident." The phrase 'kidnapped and help at laser-point' was probably still a bit too raw for the shark man, and Dyson's own ego. "All we have to do is take her down into the jungle, avoid some routine patrols and their major population centers, and we should make our mark. Funny thing about Ithor is that they don't even live on the surface. Bunch of plant worshiping leather necks, I've heard, almost as bad as those sorcerers with their 'force'." After feigning a choke-you-to-death style hand raise at the shark man beside him, Dyson's hands went to the controls as well.

The shuttle shuttered a bit, and Ithor grew larger in the view screen with each passing moment. All he had to do was punch in the coordinates, and the Lux did the rest of the work. He would only put his hands on the 'wheel' once they broke the atmosphere, but that didn't keep him from acting as though he was actually flying the thing. The only reason why the shark mine hadn't brained him and left him for Coruscanti police to pick up, was probably because he didn't know how to fly a space ship.

"You know. For such a shrewd negotiator..." The young man spoke in slow, careful sentences, "..you seem to be really into the Andris in the cargo hold. Guessing it isn't your first time?" Drug addiction was a travesty, or so he was told, but as far as he was concerned it could be used as a weapon in the right circumstances. "Want to bring up some lines before we land? It will be our last chance..."

 

[Tin-Solaire of Astora]

Planet Ithor
Winging it​

Gil had taken to restlessly tapping his foot as he stared into the view screens, waiting for any sign of trouble. There was a plethora of issues that could befuddle any drug deal, and Gil knew that far too well. He could already feel the rage wanting to well up on him, it wasn't helping that he was coming down off the andris, either. He rubbed the side of his arm where his tattoo was, grimacing.

He stopped contorting his features when he noticed that the pink guy named Dyson was falling asleep. What Gil did next is what had kept him going through the whole trip.

WHAM

Gil slammed his fist down onto the table, his large predatory grin causing his teeth to glow in the low light of the cockpit.

"Heh...heh..heh..." he sneered, rather oafishly for his true intelligence. He enjoyed enforcing his will on the kid, for some reason when he relaxed he felt himself just wanting to let the kid wander around. He just seemed trustworthy, Gil didn't know why. So any time he could get a hold of himself he felt it was a victory. He had let the female wander off, he really just didn't see her as a threat. She was hot headed, and a bit mouthy for her actual ability, but Gil thought she was spunky and that counted for a lot. He also thought she would probably get him killed, and he didn't know why he was ok with that.

Every thing was seeming a little out of focus for Gil, all of it a little too surreal. He listened as the kid complained about being awoken, just chuckling and watching the screens with a little more pep. Stars exploded into view, a hail of pebbles in the empty black pond of space. He noted the rapidly approaching planet, a tiny point in the vast space of nothing growing steadily to eclipse his entire gaze. Even in Gil's drug and many addled mind he noted it in awe.

Gil turned when the zeltron started talking, commenting on the force in a trifling manner. "Hey, Pinky" he said interupting him "don't talk about the force like that. I've seen it work in my life." he turned back to the screen and focused on their decent.

You know. For such a shrewd negotiator...you seem to be really into the Andris in the cargo hold. Guessing it isn't your first time? Want to bring up some lines before we land? It will be our last chance...

Gil turned to note the man once again, raising his brow. He really didn't do a lot of andris, the main rule of being a dealer was to never do your own cargo. Gil knew that, but with that in mind he had a back pack of gunjack that he could use for himself since he didn't plan to sell it any more.

"Yeah...but I got something better pinky." Gil said as he scooped up his pack and took a small vial out. The jet black powder smelled slightly of plasma when the vial was opened, making the cockpit smell like a gunfight. Gil chuckled as he tapped out a line on the arm of the kid's chair and raised his blaster. "Do a line, kid." Gil then tapped out his own line, keeping his eye on the zeltron. He leaned down and inhaled it deeply,feeling the burn as the chemical stimulant kicked in. Andris was already pretty heavy, making you feel pumped up enough to handle your day. Gun jack was that times eleven. GunJack makes you feel like you can rip doors of walls and punch through blaster bolts.

Gil raised up and let out a deep belled roar of a laugh. "Another." he said tapping out another line and raising his blaster. "Rail another, Pinky..."

 

[los_pollos_hermanos]

Ali had quickly realized that she had little to do but sit her pale purple ass down and wait for them to arrive to wherever their new overlord decided they were going. Gil had backed off a little once Dyson had actually gotten the ship headed towards their destination, neither male paid her much attention, which she was fine with. Ali was still mad about her ship being destroyed by the pink dumbass, but as she walked about The Lux she decided that Dysons ship would do just fine till she was able to get a ship of her own again.

WHAM

She had been curled up on the actually comfortable sofa in the crew lounge area, attempting to take a nap when she heard the noise, the first time she had heard it she just brushed it off at Sharkzilla smashing something. This time she was actually curious. If people were throwing things she wanted to know why and at who. Rubbing her eyes she stretched her legs out and got up from the couch and headed towards the cockpit, she walked in just in time to hear Gil making a comment about the Force. What did he know about that whole jumble of superstition? She stood in the doorway as Gil pulled something from his pocket and sprinkled it on the armrest, whatever it was smelled horrible. Whatever it was, Gil wasted no time in snorting some up, great, so the giant shark was once again high on something.

"Another. Rail another, Pinky..."

"Getting him hyped up on whatever that is just as we are about to land? Real smart, you better make sure the autopilot is working." actually making it to the ground was not the only thing on her mind, there was also the issue of getting rid of the drugs Dyson was carrying without them ending up dead or arrested. Ali really could not judge people when they used drugs when she herself was what some might call a "functioning alcoholic", she could handle how alcohol made her feel, she did not like what drugs did to her.

 

[Beta12]

"Yeah...but I got something better pinky. Do a line, kid."

Dyson's confident grin quickly melted into a frown, as the tables were turned upon him once more. The idea of consuming a new, strange, and tantalizing drug had the young Zeltron's heart racing, but for all of the wrong reasons. The stuff was jet black, and looked as if it might be more at home in the exhaust vent of a ship's engine, than on the arm of his pilot chair. If he hadn't known any better, he might have attributed the smell to a few fuses blowing out in the control panel. The fact that the smell originated from the powder itself jarred Dyson into glancing over at the female Zeltron for the first time in hours. Whether she had just walked in, or had been there the whole time, he couldn't really say. Her words, however, filled the awkward silence that the shark man had left after his command.

"Getting him hyped up on whatever that is just as we are about to land? Real smart, you better make sure the autopilot is working."

The dangling neon lights that hung from the ceiling of the cockpit shuttered, as the Lux dipped into the first layers of atmosphere engulfing the jungle world below them. "The girl's got a point." Though his frown was still present, his words retained the same cool, clear, cadence it had adopted when he had first offered his captor more Andris. In plenty of other scenarios he might have actually gone for the line without question, especially with a laser pointed directly at him. As the captive in an active kidnapping, however, the thrill of getting high was simply absent from his mind. "I'd hate to get too excited.. having to actually get this thing on the surface and all. You see, part of that whole plant worshiping thing, sort of means that they don't like it when other people land on their plants either. We might do a whole lot of that if I don't have a clear head." Even a shark man could understand the logic in that, Dyson hoped at least.

A drawn out, static pop sounded from the comms section of the control panel as soon as Dyson had ceased speaking. It was a prefabricated warning, brought on by little drones that had hung in the upper atmosphere for decades. It was impractical, however, to keep too many sensors in that same area. Jungle world atmospheres were notoriously turbulent, and there was no sense trying to catch the few that might manage to slip into the jungle unannounced. "See, like I said, touchy." The static was cut short as the young Zeltron flipped a switch, casually taking his violet eyes off of the shark man as if the blaster wasn't trained on him at all. "I need to land this thing. Get the girl to do it."

 

[Tin-Solaire of Astora]

Gil sniffed a few times, his own nose being much more sensitive than either of the humanoids on this ship. His ancestors had been sniffing blood out for centuries in the deep oceans of Karkaris. He could feel every tiny grain of the black powder latch onto the membrane of his sensory cell filled nostril. He shuddered and sat back in the chair, eyeing the pink pilot.

Getting him hyped up on whatever that is just as we are about to land? Real smart, you better make sure the autopilot is working.

Gil felt the drug hit him and his world became slower, time seeming to dilate around him. He became extremely aware of the Zeltron's in front of him, actually looking at them for the first time. He studied the males face, taking in all of it's angles, his pale skin, the blue hair. He studied the male and then turned his attention to the female, his eyes scanning her with their usual predatory gaze. He took in the female next, her short hair, slim physique and the venom in her eyes. Usually that look would just spur Gil on more, that look of hatred had led to many a night of passion with the right words and liquor applied. However in this situation his old 'training' was running full blast and he wanted to maintain a semblance of control.

Getting him hyped up on whatever that is just as we are about to land? Real smart, you better make sure the autopilot is working.

Her words echoed in his mind again and his usual grin melted away to reveal the same stoic rage, boiling underneath the surface of the karkaradon. He rose up out of his chair to tower over the female again, he could see it in her eyes, she didn't think he'd do anything. She thought he was a joke, a fool, some one who not only couldn't handle the job before him but the 'crew' he had. He didn't think about what he did next, just reacted, swiping an open palmed slap aimed at her face. He dared not swing full, or even half, force for fear of knocking the girl unconscious, but he knew that if it connected it would be more than enough.

He didn't wait to see if his shot connected, and instead spun to slam his fist down into the chair's arm, his fist leaving a slight dent in the metal of the pilot's seat.

"I. Didn't. Ask..." Where the only words the shark-man growled dangerously. His own raspy voice whispering into the male's ear dangerously. He had ignored the male's explanation, it's triviality washing over Gil as quickly as the rage that had struck him did. If these Zeltrons could sense emotion, which Gil knew nothing of, then he was a radiating furnace of mixed emotions. Rage, mistrust, hunger, all of them swirling around him like a whirlpool, however Rage was definitely the top layer. Gil would not be disrespected, even if it meant flying this scrap heap himself.

 

[los_pollos_hermanos]

At first she thought her fellow Zeltron had her back and would actually have the stones to at least try to stand up to Gil and tell him no, Dyson even had a good reason. They did not want to risk ticking off the plant loving tree huggers who lived on the planet. "See, like I said, touchy." Ali was watching Dyson, waiting for the stones to drop but it did not happen. "I need to land this thing. Get the girl to do it." she should have punched him in his pretty face when she had the chance earlier.

"If it was a drink yes, then I'd do it but something like that--" she was cut off as Gils massive hand connected with the side of her face, even though the hit came slowly it still hurt like hell. Not wanting to risk him getting in another strike Alli quickly stepped back, all while bringing a hand to her face, her fingers lightly touched where his hand had connected. The area of already light pink skin was quickly turning an even darker red color, her jaw hurt and she tasted something metallic, her hand moved to lightly touch her lips and she looked down to see blood. Great, so she was bleeding, possibly from a busted lip that if it did not heal right she would have a scar for the rest of her life. At least the hit hadn't broken her nose, she had already dealt with one of those before and it was a pain to get to heal right.

Ali wiped at the blood with the back of her hand, "Does that make you feel better?" she asked angrily,her voice shaking ever so slightly "People don't do what you want so you feel the need to-" she paused as she felt something move in her mouth, did he knock a tooth out? Ali ran her tongue over her teeth to just to make sure, everything was still in place thankfully. "You did not need to do that, all I did was make a comment about how it would be nice if the pilot was able to focus on the landing and not on the crashing." she wiped at her face again, her jaw was hurting something fierce and she needed a drink to dull the pain.

 

[Beta12]

Dyson kept his eyes locked to the controls, flipping a few more switches as the sound of rough skin scraping flesh filled the cabin. The casual air he had held moments before had melted away, leaving his lips in a small, tight line. Some ghostly chill brought goosebumps to his arms, and what little hair he had on the back of his neck stood at attention. This had stopped being a game the moment they had left Coruscant, and by that point, it had become rather obvious that there was no reasoning with the shark. Shark-man was no smuggler, subtly escaped him, and there was absolutely nothing stopping him from killing them both as soon as the transaction had been finished on the surface.

"I. Didn't. Ask..."

Dyson jumped, despite an obvious effort to remain still, as the creature's hand slammed down on the arm of his beloved pilots chair. If the thing was strong enough to leave a dent in spaceship metals, the young man was certain he did not want to know what it could do to flesh. "I'll need another..." Dyson responded, attempting to diffuse the situation before Alli could say anything further. The sheer rage rolling off of the fish was enough to make his head swim, and he wasn't sure how much more he could handle if the woman ignited him further. "You sent the other line in the air." His violet eyes flicked down toward the dent in the chair, where he line had previously been spread. Though he did not see where the black powder had gone, the Zeltron could only assume it was now nothing more than a stain on the thing's meaty fist.

WHUMPF.

The sounds of the outside world interrupted the conversation, as the Lux entered Ithor's atmosphere. Air screamed against metal, and the shuttle began to violently shake, banking in and out of thick clouds that only seemed to make the shaking more pronounced. Which each layer of cloud, the cabin grew darker, leaving the pilot to simply stare at the view-screen until it became obvious they were descending into a thunderhead. No alarms blared, and soon it became obvious that the Coruscanti police had fired upon more than his bay doors when they had escaped the space port. Dyson quickly turned his head to acknowledge the lumbering beast behind him, and spoke with indignation that he often reserved only for his mother. "This. Isn't. Your. Ship. And it won't be mine for long either if I. Can't. Land. It." His eyes burnt with frustration. Had it not been for the creature, none of these hiccups would have occurred.

Crack.

Dyson's head swung back toward the view port, just in time to see the sickening crack that spread across one of the far right panels. In an instant the roaring atmosphere had invaded the cabin, sending pieces of that view port in every direction. The young zeltron threw a forearm up toward his face just in time to catch shrapnel, other splinters carving into the unguarded portions of his body. Pain seared through every part of him with such sharp intensity that he might have screamed, had the air not already been tore from his lungs. Before Dyson had even lowered his own arm, the nose of the Lux took a sickening dip.

Nothing but hot, wet, biting air met him when he finally lowered his arm to face the situation before him. The control panel sparked and smoked from places where viewscreen had torn into it, and the lights and gauges within it had gone dark. "You just had to be at that port! You kriffing psychotic skor-fin! This is your fault!" The Zeltron shrieked in a blind rage as his hands mounted what was left of the control panel, in an attempt to bring the shuttle out from the dive. Nothing responded, and the sparks shooting from the panels soon forced the Zeltron to yank his hands away. "Get buckled Alli!" The stench of his own blood made him want to puke, but the Zeltron refused to look down at his own arm as he cradled it to his chest. If anything was still working in that shuttle's ancient computer, he could only hoped that it landed the ship in relatively one piece, in a manner that two humanoids could survive. "Ahhh.." He whined, pressing the back of his head into the chair's headrest. The air in the cockpit began to grow dangerously thin, and the corner's of Dyson's vision began to darken.

 

[Tin-Solaire of Astora]

If Gil had had any sort of grasp on the force the female in front of him would have been folded into a physically impossible dimension by his weighted gaze alone, the arrogance that poured from her was so thick Gil could literally smell it coming off of her. It was the same sort of sweet smell that corpses had, he reckoned.

Does that make you feel better? People don't do what you want so you feel the need to-...You did not need to do that, all I did was make a comment about how it would be nice if the pilot was able to focus on the landing and not on the crashing.

"Enough." was all the Karkaradon's robotic voice said, even with it's metallic tang it seemed dangerous. Gil felt like he was loosing his mind, as well as the hold on his crew. Being in the profession Gil was you always had to control your men, and it rarely was an easy thing. Temper's flared, slights were uttered, blasters drawn. But a good boss could silence any dispute before he had to raise a fist against any one, Gil was not proving to be a good boss on this mission. Conscripts, especially prissy zeltrons, were not what Gil wanted in a crew, in fact give him a violent pack of Trando's any day over these kriffs.

I'll need another...You sent the other line in the air.

The male's voice rang through Gil's head and he returned his focus to him, his pitch eyes seeming to take all of the boy in. "Right." was all he said as he rose and fished out the black vile. He decided to use the dent he made to hold the powder, the kid would do a sarlacc snort, dip your nose in the pit and hope you get it all. He was only interrupted by the sudden pop of the ship entering atmosphere, and with each layer the ship dove through it began to shake worse and worse. They'd come out in some sort of storm, but this kid said he was a good pilot, shouldn't be a problem right?

This. Isn't. Your. Ship. And it won't be mine for long either if I. Can't. Land. It.

Gil's jaws snapped closed with an audible clap, his teeth grating against each other in agitation. This was the worst possible part of a job, having to choose respect or your live. He wanted to clot the kid across the back of the head, but he knew that this squishy pink wannabe was the only thing getting them to the ground without dying.

"Just do your-" He was cut off by the sudden cracking noise, his eyes snapping quickly to the view port. "Kriff." was the only thing Gil could utter before the window exploded, sending glass into the cabin. Gil reacted as best he could bringing one arm up to try and stop the glass from killing the kid, he mostly tried to guard his chest. With his other arm he scooped the girl in, slamming her into his own torso. He wouldn't have any crew if they died...and something about them just wouldn't let him see them dead.

With glass shattered the cockpit was a whirlwind of atmosphere and water, which ironically seemed to focus Gil. The water felt modestly refreshing compared to the dry air the humanoids preferred. He turned and tried to take stock of the situation but for the most part it was a blur. They were hurtling towards the ground at a faster rate the karkardon would have liked, and on top of that the male had started throwing insults.

"Ha ha ha! Y-zzzztt-ou would b-b-be in prizzzzzzon without me!" His aquatic clamp had some how been damaged by the glass but Gil's message was clear. Whether these two liked it or not, their little explosion would have been enough to jail them, and impound the kid's ship. Which meant sec would have all his andris and enough to charge him. Gil stopped laughing to notice that the two humanoids were seeming to fade in and out, the atmo must have been agreeing with them. Kriff. He though internally as he plopped into a seat and tried to fit the straps around him. It was with growing concern that he realized he was to large for the restraints.

"Kriff!" his guttural voice bellowed as they soared towards the ground.

 

[los_pollos_hermanos]

It seemed like the group could do nothing but argue, that or just yell at each other. Ali did not move, she stayed against the wall, figuring it was better to keep out of arms reach. The ship started the shake as they entered the atmosphere, nothing unusual especially if the planet you were landing on was having some weather of some sort. What was unusual was the fact that the ship kept shaking and with each passing moment things seemed to get worse and worse.

"This. Isn't. Your. Ship. And it won't be mine for long either if I. Can't. Land. It."

Ali took a hesitant step forward to try and better see the displays in front of Dyson, where as her (former) ship was a piece of shit, at least it would warn you before something messed up but Dysons was giving off no alarm even though the ship was acting like it was about to fall apart. She did not get the chance to comment on the fact that Pinky might have messed up a wire back when he had been fooling with them back on Coruscant. The veiw port suddenly had a large crack across it and as it then exploded inward she ducked down behind a seat to try and save herself from getting hurt by the debris. "Get buckled Alli!" Dysons voice sounded far away admits the rush of noise that was now filling the cockpit, she started scrambling for a seat to strap herself in but was stopped by a massively thick arm grabbing her around the torso and lifting her up.

The air was quickly getting thinner and thinner, it was making her head spin to the point she wanted to close her eyes to keep herself from getting sick. They were going to crash, possibly die, she hadn't though about death in a long while, mostly because she did not see a point in dwelling on something that eventually happened to everyone. But she hadn't expected to die in a crash thanks to two idiots. Ali opened her eyes and looked down to see that she was now in a chair, well sitting in someones lap in a chair, turning her head as much as she could she saw the grey skin of Gil's shoulder, moving her eyes down his arm she noticed that he was trying to latch the restraints and failing. "Kriff, let me do it!" she yelled at him as she slapped his hands away. His fumbling was going to get them no where.

She took a deep breath and tried her best to clear her head of the ever growing fog and quickly reached for the harness adjuster that would hopefully allow they two of them to fit into the seat. The straps came out another two inches...barely. Ali pushed herself as far as she could into Gil as she secured the harness tight around them, if she crash did not kill them all then she was lucky to walk away with whatever she did, even if it was some bad bruising on her ninety - eight percent flawless skin.

 

[Beta12]

Streaks of green and hot, wet air invaded Dyson's senses as his poor ship tumbled through the atmosphere. The young man only noticed it in passing, however, as he flickered in and out of consciousness. Trying to stay awake felt as difficult as swimming against a strong current. That was the least of his worries, considering the commotion going on around him. The fish man owed him nothing, yet he seemed to be trying very hard to keep all three of them alive and though he could not physically see Alli, he thought that he had heard her, which hopefully meant she had gotten to her seat in time. Fortunately, any other details faded with the eb and flow of his awareness. If he had been fully aware the entire time down, he would have cried. Months of labor, love, and a lasting piece of his Dad was all about to go up in smoke, and everything went black.

"Aw Kriff.." The Zeltron's voice took on a tone reminiscent of wet gravel as he woke for the eighty billionth time. This, however, was different. A tiny bug buzzed around Dyson's ear, enough to resurrect the annoyed sneer he had held earlier while arguing with the super-sized fish. The slap of wet leaves, and groaning thick branches accompanied his attempt to remove the fiend from his presence, and the abundance of the noise was enough to jar him into opening his eyes. His mis-matched, violet gaze took in the scene before him as his mind slowly caught up.

The Lux, or what was left of it, was nowhere in sight. The sheer amount of foliage was enough to restrict his view to the immediate area, though all of that was of little importance to him as he realized that he was hanging above it all. When the ship itself had finally fallen apart, his pilots chair had found its resting place in the branches of a stout, jungle tree. Stout was a pretty relative term, however, considering the average size of the trees that dominated the planet. Centuries of strictly surface regulations had seen most of the trees undisturbed, and allowed them to grow to ridiculous heights. At Dyson's awkward angle, he could even see one of the giants poking out from the canopy above him. If he had been lodged in one of those, there would have been little hope of getting back down again.

Reluctantly, Dyson's gaze eventually traveled back toward his chair, and the beaten-up body strapped into it. Thanks to the big fish, most of the shrapnel he had caught from the window was pretty superficial, his clothes were shredded and stiff with dried blood, but he didn't appear to be actively bleeding from anywhere. The arm he had caught the shrapnel with was a bit uglier. Pink skin had already started puffing up around the pieces that had torn into it. While the Zeltron was sure he hadn't broken anything, the muscle in his forearm was hot and tight, moving it around too much made him want to scream. The chair itself was intact, as well as the buckles. While secure in the branches, the whole assortment had an obnoxious tilt to it. The straps dug into Dyson's right side, and kept him secured to his chair, he couldn't sit properly in it even if he wanted too. "Is anyone there?" His voice cracked once more as he attempted to speak for the second time. He didn't realize how thirsty he was until he dragged his tongue along his cracked lips. Wherever they had landed, he had been there for a while.