Ask Forged in Fire

[Leon Baudelaire]

"Ow!” hissed Baudelaire as he pressed the antiseptic to his busted lip. The sharp smell of rubbing alcohol scrunched up his nose as the taste plagued his tongue. His most recent endeavor was turning out to be more difficult than he’d originally thought. Life as a vigilante wasn’t something he’d ever really considered, but the mounting aggression from both the Sith and the Empire made walking around as a Jedi more dangerous than ever.

Baudelaire was excited. Kashyyyk had set a fire in the Adumarian that he’d let dwindle during his initial promotion to Knight. His clash with the Sith had been a stark reminder that he had parsecs to go before he was worthy of the title of Knight.

Well, at least in his mind.

Enter The Warden. His alter-ego was based on an old Adumarian myth about a group of force sensitives that stood against a corrupt king to free the disenfranchised from their tyrannical rule. Cliche? Yup. Cool sounding? Duh. He was still working out the kinks in the idea. He kept his blaster on him, and decided to add two stun batons in lieu of his sabers. Wouldn’t be very heroic of him if he just, like, went around killing people.

Leon’s current target was a former Crimson Dawn ringleader named Fador Dar’jik. The main issue was on his last mission, his ship had been identified, and he’d practically flown into a trap which had led to his current battered and bruised condition. If he wanted to get close to Dar’jik he’d need a little help.

In the Jedi’s experience, aside from the Smuggler’s Moon itself, there was no bigger den of iniquity in the galaxy besides Ord Mantell. Back as a padawan he, and three other’s, had been forced to combat a cult hell bent on stealing force sensitive kids, it was a real wholesome experience… Luckily, he’d made a few friends the last time he was here. If anyone could point him toward a decent pilot with loose morals and a death wish, it’d be Zeffy.

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

"Come on, Zeffy-" Dismas sighed as he looked at the measly amount of credits she had thrown onto the bar. "-expenses reducted I can't even buy a light side ending at one of the local massage parlors with this." as he said it he felt the shadowing presence of a large Devaronian, Brossik, linger closeby. Dismas knew if he raised his voice to Zeffy Hallis he'd have that big-boned devil on his neck within seconds. Kriff. Bloody criminals.

The Twi'lek woman at the other side smiled and poured him a cognac, right up to the line and not a drop more, Only kriffing rodians drink sewer-riped moonshine, Dismas- she placed the glass in front of him and returned the bottle to its shelf, "-so really I'm being generous here."

Kriff. After the exploration mission on the DECS Pathfinder, Dismas had been determined to make it on his own. Without his parents, without Preef and without the Zaa Fenn name. Turns out being a smuggler was hard work that rarely paid off, if ever did. "But that's Preef Callo's favorite drink," he tried, desperately, and watched how Zeffy couldn't hold in a laugh. "Preef Callo? Isn't he dead? Kriff me, wasn't he part of a syndicate? Cry-me-a-rivah, or something like that?"

That hurt. "Crymorah," Dismas couldn't help himself not to correct her and then simply took his complementary shot of cognac, his meager payment for a long ass haul and slid off his stool. "I'll leave the planet in the morning. Let me know if anyone's looking for work."

Zeffy waved him off. Probably thought him a third-rate desperate smuggler as he wasn't associated to the Smuggler's Guild or anything. Luckily she did allow him to stay and so Dismas took a seat in one of the booths to wallow in self-pity.

@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

The Lusty Lekku stood out like a blazing sanctuary among the detritus of Ord Mantell’s capital, Worlport. As with most capital cities, Worlport was rife with corruption. Prestige and position could be propositioned on a whim, provided one had the credits or clout to obtain it. Luckily for the precariously placed politicians, not many had either.

As the door hissed open, Leon was met with the familiar disgruntled appraising eye of the regulars. Zeffy spotted him and her voice let the regulars know he was known to her.

“Well, the gods have seen fit to fuck me sideways today…” she groaned with just enough humor in her voice.

Brosslik’s face lit up like a jack’o’lantern as he spotted Baudelaire. “Oy, little man’s all grown up, Zeffy, can you believe it?”

The twi’lek scoffed as Leon closed in, she was already pouring him a shot as he sidled up to the bar, his mischievous little smirk lighting up his expression, “Yeah, I can tell, boy’s put on a few pounds and suddenly thinks he’s the real deal, isn’t that right Mr. Warden?”

The smirk on Leon’s face vanished as quickly as it had arrived, “Er— I’ve got no—”
Zeffy cut across him, “Oh please, you’re wearing the same fucking outfit minus the helmet, not everyone is so dense,” then under her breath, “Fuckin Jedi, thinking the rest of the galaxy is blind.”

“It’s good to see you too, Zeffy,” replied Leon. The Twi’lek didn’t react with any outward warmth, but the free refill he enjoyed told him she was happy to see him as well.

“Ya know, I’ve actually got something for someone of your particular set of skills…” she mused while he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Oh yeah, what’s that? There another cannibal cult running around?” he laughed half heartedly.
“Ha, you wish!” she shot back, “No, I need you to help me settle a score.”

Leon started to protest, but she wouldn’t hear it, “I’m sorry, why are you here exactly? Oh— to ask me for a favor? That’s what I thought.”

Baudelaire’s lips pursed mid lie, she was right… He sighed, “Alright, what is it?”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” she said as a wolfish grin spread across her face, “I noticed you’ve been targeting a particular affiliation with your antics. I’d also like something from the Dawn. Well, former Dawn, if you will, I’ll send you the details. Now, what do you need from me?”

Leon chuckled, he knew he was getting the short end of this stick. No doubt about it, but he was pressed for time and he needed to just trust The Force had his back.
“I need a pilot.”

Zeffy’s already wolfish grin took on a sinister glean, “Is that so? I just so happen to need to get rid of one,” her gaze landed on a raven haired guy roughly Leon’s age. Baudelaire cocked an eyebrow at the guy, he didn’t look like much, but at this point, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Baudelaire scoffed, everything would be as it should. Nothing more, nothing less.

His smile found it’s way back to his lips as he accepted the path laid out before him, turning to said pilot, the Jedi said, “It’s come to my attention that you might need a job. I can’t pay much, but it’ll be more than any of the cohorts here will pay.”

The Jedi snapped his fingers as if just remembering something, “I’m Leon by the way, nice to meet you…” he trailed off letting the guy introduce himself while holding a hand out in greeting. If Zeffy was recommending this guy he was either really good or a huge pain in the ass.

Leon hoped it was the former and not a mixture of both…

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

By the time Leon arrived at Dismas' booth, the aspiring -down on his luck- smuggler was looking at his datapad with a defeated expression on his face. No, he wasn't watching his favorite Huttbal team lose. He was looking at his finance sheet. As such, Leon chose his first words wisely and the young Zaa Fenn looked up in a suddenly hopeful mood. It dipped slightly as he realized that the person that approached him was still a kid - or at least a few years younger than Dismas.

"Dismas Zaa Fenn," he first returned the greeting, shook the kid's hand and motioned for him to sit opposite him in the booth. There was a moment there where Dismas wanted to state that he didn't work for a poor kid's allowance credits, but then he took notice of the kid's armor and his weapons. Everyone had a blaster, that wasn't special, but using stun batons usually meant you had some training in close-quarters-combat, too. Kriff, Dismas wouldn't even be able to hit a Huttball with a baton.

Now, shooting a blaster. That he could do. Thanks to the old rodian and his barely sufficient level of patience. Was he better at shooting a blaster than flying his SH-3 Gun Tug? Let's not delve into the difficult questions today...

"What's the job?" the part-time smuggler asked the mysteriously armed kid.

@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

The Guy’s name caught Leon by surprise.

“Zaa Fenn, huh? How’s Peef doing?” Leon asked sincerely. The Padawan had spent the weirdest summer of his life “enslaved” by The Rodian on Tatooine. It had a real coming of age vibe about it, but realistically it had been the break away from the Order he’d needed at the time.

Dismas was sizing Leon up and being pretty obvious about it, not that it mattered, Leon was returning the favor in kind. Baudelaire was a true son of Adumar. He’d been flying since he was a kid, and kept the skill honed when he joined the Jedi. He wasn’t prone to just letting anyone fly him around. Not on a mission at least.

“I need you to get me here,” Leon pulled his EzPhone from his pocket and slid it to The Smuggler.

The screen would display a set of coordinates in the upper left corner and a star map front and center. In an asteroid belt not far off The Hedian way a blinking white dot indicated Leon’s intended destination.

“Ideally, I’d like to hitch a ride back, but if push comes to shove do what you gotta do,” he said with a shrug. “We’re looking for a Nau'ur-class yacht called The Krayt’s Fang. I have an errand—” he said with an emphasis that would normally be accompanied by air-quotes, “—I need to take care of it discreetly, so we’d need to move in and out quietly. Oh and the owner of the yacht is a former Crimson Dawn Ringleader.”

He held out his hand for his phone.

“It’s the kinda job a guy could raise his rates after, ya know?” added Leon absentmindedly.

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

Ofcourse, whenever anyone in his world heard the name Zaa Fenn they associated it with the old rodian. To Dismas he was 'uncle Preef', but to the other syndicates he was former Crymorah boss and legendary quick-draw artist Preef Zaa Fenn. He had learned to not pay too much attention when scoundrels spoke too familiar about the old gunslinger.

What interested Dismas more was the EZphone being slid over showing a rudimentary old starmap and a set of coordinates. He studied it for a moment and then failed to suppress a laugh. "Your map is out of date," asteroid fields tended to drift and looking at this particular map it was a low-res version specifically made for EZphones. Waste of a good map, really, but then Dismas was a starmapophile and he couldn't really expect the rest of the galaxy would abide by his high standard.

Dismas returned the EZphone and pondered Leon's words for a moment. "You want me to get you on a Nau'ur class yacht that's hiding among an asteroid field for whatever reason," the young Zaa Fenn summarized, "probably involving some Crimson Dawn stuff, which, to my knowledge had been kriffed up lately-" the word of Vivienne Donatade's obsession with Sith artefacts and the Empire's downfall had not gone unnoticed among the Crymorah. "-but my obligations end the moment I drop you off?"

@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

Leon’s brow knit together as Dismas scoffed at his phone. His comment would have been cutting if he hadn’t missed the play button in the upper right corner of the map. Once pressed it would animate the assumed trajectory of said location within the undulating asteroid belt. Rather than be a dick about it, Leon just let the guy talk.

The Jedi listened to Dismas’ recounting of the plan and only interjected when the Smuggler tried to get out of the return trip, “ You’re to get me there and back if possible. Obviously, there’s a bonus if you manage it, but I’d rather you not endanger yourself more than you have too.”

Baudelaire could tell Dismas still wasn’t totally sure what to make of him. That was fair. Leon looked young for twenty, but his experience vastly out stripped his age. Now as he watched Dismas weigh the risk and reward he couldn’t help notice how green the dude was. Most vets would have heard this idea put together what Dismas surmised and then told Leon to fuck off.

“ So, Mr. Zaa Fenn, you in or not?” Leon let his patented mischievous smirk punctuate his question.

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

"Credits up front," Dismas said before emptying his glass and letting the liquid burn through his throat. He realized that he had just accepted a job that was too ridiculously dangerous for his own good and if he was as unlucky as he had been since the end of the Pathfinder's expedition into the Unknown Regions, the chance to unwittingly trigger a crime war between the Crimson Dawn and the Crymorah was probably too big, too. Kriff this up and the Belching Frog Saloon would go up in flames with Kara and Preef's burning husks next to it in the sand as if they were poor moisture farmers after a Tusken raid.

He finally rose from his seat and signalled for the rich suicidal kid to follow, "My ship's just around the corner," which meant that, as opposed to some larger smuggling ships, his could be parked more freely in the parking space reserved for a large speeder van. Which was exactly what the Rache-2 looked like, for it was a SH-3 Gun Tug.

Dismas made no fanfare of it and as they reached the ship simply unlocked it and entered. The only place to sit was inside the cockpit and it was obvious that it was designed for only the bare amenities. The chairs were comfortable, though, because they could also be pushed flat and function as a bed for longer trips. The refresher was cramped -less so for someone of Dismas' size- and the kitchenette only featured a cupboard to store ration packets and a microwave-like device that could prepare them in a few seconds. The only thing that seemed new was the navcomputer in which Dismas clearly took considerable pride as he booted it up first to enter the asteroid belt's coordinates.

Soon a holographic detailed view of the entire system could be seen popping up from the computer that put whatever Leon had on his EZphone to shame. As an astronavigator Dismas knew what a good starmap was supposed to look like and now he showed it to Leon, to, no doubt, the latter's utter joy and amazement. "Looks like we can't take a straight line to it due to migrating patterns and a gravitational well, but we can be there in roughly two hours."


@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

“I’ll do half now and once you get me to the Yacht you can have the other half,” said Leon, handing over the first half of the payment. If Dismas objected the deal would be off. Baudelaire may have enjoyed searching out the good in people, but he wasn’t a moron when it came to business. Trust was something they’d both need to earn, luckily, from the look of it, the guy needed the creds pretty bad.

Baudelaire rose from the booth and followed The Pilot out of Zeffy’s place. The Twi'lek called out, “Have fun you two!” Leon flipped her off on his way out and she laughed.

Once outside it was a short jaunt to Dismas Zaa Fenn’s… van? The Jedi blinked, then looked to The Pilot, then looked back to the ship and finally back to Dismas.

“This is a real ‘It’s not the size of the ship, it’s how you fly it,’ kinda moment for me,” admitted Leon, but he got in anyway. The size of the ship might be to their benefit. He hoped.

Once inside his opinion changed. The ships navcomputer was dope, son. Leon’s mouth dropped open. “Dude, I can’t even begin to tell you how stressed I was at first. That’s my bad.”

Dismas ran the numbers and estimated the trip would be about two hours. Leon nodded his comprehension while still admiring the computer. They were up and moving a few minutes later. Leon leaned back in his chair crossing one leg over the other.

“So, what’s the story behind that beauty?” he asked about the high-tech computer.

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

"The story?" Dismas answered the question with one of his own. The Rache-2 was just now leaving Ord Mantell's atmosphere and slowly turning into the direction for their first jump to hyperspace. "I'm an astronavigator. This thing is able to not only chart courses through our everchanging galaxy, but automatically adjust outdated maps and factor in patterns like asteroid fields and species migrating space." Okay, so he could've replied with shorter cooler answer. He studied the math and physics behind the changing galaxy and its countless moving stars for years to get his degree and be able to actually work as an astronavigator. It was something to be proud of. At least, to Dismas.

"Worked for the Discovery and Exploration Corps for a bit," Dismas went on, "authored the first starmaps of previously uncharted space," which he knew wasn't entirely true. After all, the DECS Pathfinder did find a massive space station and no way that it had just drifted out there either. Dismas also know of the existence of Zhar IV, which was Pyke Syndicate world deep into uncharted space that was used as a last resort refuge world.

"But I also have to earn credits in between exploration voyages," the young Zaa Fenn sighed, for that part he found was too painfully true. The corporation behind these exploration voyages didn't keep their staff on payroll in between these multi-year missions. It made sense from an economical standpoint, for the corporation at least, but for the specialists like Dismas it was hard to find relevant work in the meantime.

He punched the hyperspeed button and the ship shot forward. "That's where you come in," for a moment he seemed to grin and then motioned for Leon to grab the flask that was magnetically fastened to the low ceiling of their cockpit. "Dubrillion Cognac, take a swig."

@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

Leon watched the bruised skyline of Ord Mantell give way to the void of space’s embrace. He let out a low whistle, obviously impressed by Dismas’s computer. “Man, that’s awesome. I’d kill for a better navcomp. Mine does the job, but without my droid, I’d be karked,” he said with a smirk.

“Oh cool, yeah, I work for a place that’s not great at paying it’s employees,” he mused as Dismas told him a little about himself. Leon was genuinely shocked when The Pilot revealed his experience. There were alot of people that could claim what he’d done, but few who had the equipment to back it up. “Well, I’m happy to line your pockets,” Leon laughed.

Dismas pointed out the flask above and Leon snagged it. He undid the lid and as he lifted it to his lips he examined the liquid with the Force. It was Cognac or at least to his knowledge it was. Leon relaxed and let himself take a swig. He’d need to chill the rest of the ride, between Zeffy’s unaccustomed generosity and this he’d had enough to make this whole thing a questionable endeavor.

Then again, that’s what made this fun.

Leon held out the flask to it’s owner. The mottled blues of hyperspace spiraled around them with mesmerizing luster as the souped-up “van” they were flying shot toward their destination. Baudelaire would remain tight-lipped about who and what he was. He knew most people in the galaxy got a little skittish when you mentioned a connection to the force. Add on to that, that he was literally being dropped off at a dangerous hive of iniquity like a kid at soccer practice and it would equal more questions than he’d be able to answer.

No, the less Dismas knew, the better.

Just as Dismas said, they dropped out of hyperspace right at the two hour mark. Which would have been totally fine… except for the blaring alarms that went off as soon as they snapped into existence.

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

ALARM

Dismas yanked the ship to the right, narrowly avoiding critical hull damage as it only scraped the Rache-2 and yet they were anything but out of the woods. Immediately the sensors blared bright red as the modest Gun Tug was targeted and locked on by several starfighters. "They know we were coming!?" Dismas almost shrieked at the kid on the chair next to him as he yanked the ship back up in an attempt to hide behind another floating rock.

Cannon fired shrieked through muted space as smaller rocks were torn apart. What neither Dismas nor Leon could see was that the starfighters were also fighter each other. Leon would soon sense one of them being torn apart as the life essence of the pilot stopped abruptly after a short kiss from the cold black void.

As they emerged from behind the rock, the Gun-Tug was immediately hit by debris, diminishing the already struggling shield integrity and making their chances at survival slim at best. "Get on the tractor beam controls, stat!" Dismas barked. Maybe, if they could push and pull the asteroids they had a shot to penetrate the shields that looked like they could withstand a barrage of laser fire.

If he survived this, Leon had some kriffing explaining to do. Karking Hells that was looking like a big kriffing if...

@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

”NO!” Leon yelled back in protest, though he wasn’t sure why that was his answer because the attack ships outside were clearly agitated at their appearance. Baudelaire was sure there was a very logical answer for the welcoming party. He was also aware it was probably mostly his fault, but that wasn’t important to admit right now.

“Got it!” replied Baudelaire as he quickly grabbed the controls.

“Wait!” he said, the panic of the surprise attack was ebbing and his brain was coming back on. “color=#5abf76]They’re…[/color]” Dismas wove in and out of the surrounding space rocks of death deftly while Leon spun in his chair craning his neck to try and get a look at the fighters streaking across the void behind them. Debris bounced off the transparisteel view port as they shot behind cover once again.

“We dropped into a dog fight. They’re shooting at us cause we’re here not because they knew we were coming. This is perfect!”

Leon’s hands landed on the controls and he aimed the tractor beam at a rock the size of the van. Tractor beams were wonderfully fickle of course and establishing a lock was proving to be tough with all of the evasive action Dismas was being forced to take.

“Finally!” Leon crowd. The asteroid he was trying to grab locked. A smile spread across his face as he looked for his first target. The fighting ships were buzzing around one another like a nest of pissed off hornets.

“Who am I attacking?” he asked, the question was more directed at any deity eavesdropping on their situation, but if Dismas had any bright ideas he’d be all ears. Luckily, it seemed fate had an opinion. Dismas took an unexpected turn and Leon lost hold of the asteroid sending the damn thing directly into the conflux of the fighting.

“Nevermind, it’s up to The Force now,” he mumbled as he quickly hurried to find another rock to grab. “Hey, this is kinda fun, huh?”

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

ALARM

"Perfect!?" Dismas shrieked as he tightened his sweaty hands along the Gun Tug's steering wheel. "You out of your KRIFFING mind!?" the ship was definitely not fit for a asteroid-filled surprise dogfight and neither wa the pilot skilled enough to survive this without some kind of divine intervention.

What aggravated the astronavigator even more was the fast the Leon seemed to be enjoying himself throughout this entire life-threatening chaos. "Attack them-" an exasperated Dismas cried breathlessly, "-whoever shoots at u-" a large chuck of asteroid collided with the transparisteel, forcing the latter to crack, -uAAAAH!" As the chunk of spacerock skidded down the entire length of the Gun Tug, ripping off outer hull plating as it went, the alarms seemed to become even louder as another section of his panel lit up displaying a horrifying message: "Life support at 80% and dropping." Not only that, but combined with the follow up message of "shields at 10%" had Dismas's nerves in a twist.

Meanwhile the two interceptors that had been engaged in their dogfight since before the Rache-2 arrived on scene were weaving through the asteroids away from the them. Dismas steered the ship away from the larger asteroids, keeping a wary eye on the display that kept track of their life support, when his eyes caught a ship nearby that had been hidden from view by asteroids.

With the interceptors dogfighting continued to move away from their position, Dismas finally seemed to collect some of his wits and disabled the eardrum-defying alarm. "That look like the Krayt's Fang to you?"

They might only have a minute before they'd be stuck back into the dogfight, without shields or life support. With any luck, though, a minute was all they needed.

@Zay

 

[Leon Baudelaire]

Leon never let himself miss an opportunity to mess with someone, especially a guy who’d been trying to act tough like twenty minutes ago. He let his smile spread into a deranged leer. “MAYBE I AM, PILOT BOY!” he wailed in a heavy Corellian accent JUST as the asteroid he’d sent rolling toward the dogfight caused a massive collision.

The explosion was huge. Like way bigger than it should have been. Leon’s bluster deflated like a balloon who’s knot had come untied. He sank back into his chair and tried to pretend that nothing had happened. Luckily, Dismas was pretty concerned with survival. The “Zaa Fenn” flew behind a larger asteroid and put a little distance between them and the, uh, conflict. As they crested the side of the massive space rock, Leon smiled.

“Yup. That’s it. Look at that, you’re gonna get to go home and get paid. Man, I wish I was you.”

Baudelaire knew this was going to be tricky. Dismas’ ship was pretty wrecked, which of fucking course meant Leon had to give him the bonus, and if the guy lingered at all there was a high probability he wouldn’t make it out alive.

The proximity alarm went off alerting them to a fighter coming up on their rear. Leon didn’t waste time playing around. He sank into the force, reaching out and grabbing three good sized asteroids. With his eyes shut tight in concentration and his left arms raised he said, “Look, you can freak out after you drop me off, okay.”

Baudelaire’s brow furrowed. Each of the space rocks was about the size of a fighter but their weightlessness in the vacuum of space made moving them surprisingly easy. “Stay as steady as you can and drop when I say,” his voice was missing the jocularity it had maintained the entire flight.

“DROP! DROP! DROP! FOR FUCKSAKES DROP!” yelled Leon as the first of his missiles rocketed directly toward them!

@Eccles

 

[Dismas Zaa Fenn]

Did he just.. did he just..

Dismas should've recognized the signs. Young kid, operating solo but with credits to spare and targeting the criminal syndicate known for collecting Sith artefacts. No even someone born into a crime family would have balls this big. They also wouldn't have had to work with failing smugglers in third-rate ships, unless like Dismas they wanted to go legit. Not of this seemed to be legit, though.

"You're a kriffing-" he was cut short, partly because he wasn't sure he was going to say Sith or Jedi, for he didn't know, but mainly because the alarm started blaring again. Incoming missile, karking kriff, he never should've taken this job-

He pushed the steering wheel downwards, dropping the ship several feet instantly and giving Leon the room to do whatever he was planning. The missile screeched by above, nearly scrapping off some of the plating and exploding right on their tail. Luckily, as these religious zealots would put it, Dismas and Leon had the 'Force with them' and the missile simple missed, striking a minor asteroid about a quarter mile behind them.

"We have to board," Dismas sighed, his heart racing as he looked at his monitors and knew -just knew- that he had zero change of surviving the trip out of this asteroid field.

@Zay