Getting Off On The Wrong Foot

[Lloyd Gross]

There comes a time in every man’s life when a decision has to be made. Do you keep on your current track, or divert? Coryn Tyre wasn’t sure which he was doing now. Maybe in a few years with 20/20 hindsight he would know. In the past two months he bought a crew, commandeered a vessel, lost his crew, sold said commandeered vessel, bought a slave, sold his ship to pay for said slave, and now he was sneaking aboard the Captain’s Revenge. Bad luck? He still wasn’t sure himself, but he was optimistic.

He’d been raised by his parents on their small freighter, smuggling and spying. Maybe that’s why he felt he needed to be a part of a crew so bad that he’d sneak aboard a well-known pirating crew in the Cartel. If he got caught he might be killed, or worse turned back over to his Hutt master. It was a large vessel though and once he got out of the crate he was currently hiding in he should be able to blend in and gather information until their next stop. He felt the crate shift drastically and it knocked him off balance. He caught himself and sat back on his makeshift chair or protein paste. There was around two minutes of movement before he came to a halt once more. And once more, fell off his chair.

Coryn was, for all intents and purposes, a spy. His mother had been an intelligence gatherer her whole life before she passed away. She’d not only been a great mother, but a great teacher as well. Coryn’s contacts within and, more so, without the Cartel were vast. Hell, just a couple months ago he met a Jedi and a Cartel member. They were now scouring Zonju V for the Waste Rangers. Complete devotion was secured over afternoon drinks. Coryn was a hell of a spy.

Captain Goodrich had assembled a mighty fine crew. A crew that wasn’t known to be friendly to the Cartel, even if they were technically working together. They were the type of people that could help him escape from the over bearing Hutt that was his master. Sure, his debt had been paid. But his leash was no longer. Coryn knew that a few steps out of line and he’d be back under the Hutt’s tail.

After several hours Coryn popped the side panel of the crate off and slipped out. The cargo bay was empty, he’d gotten lucky so far. He replaced the side panel and walked casually towards the main access from the cargo bay to the rest of the vessel. First, he needed to secure a uniform and direct comm link. Then he’d start observing crew movements and attitudes. He’d try to slip into a minor role on the vessel, maintenance or electrical work suited him. He could gauge crew’s morality, political leanings, faction loyalties, ect. until they got to their next stop. Then he’d jump ship and, if things were to his liking, sign-up first chance he got.

Coryn reached the door and pulled the handle. Before he could open it, the door swung open and two guards came rushing in. One tackled Coryn to the ground while the other held a blaster rifle trained on Coryn. In the door way another guard smirked and reported into a mic, “We got the rat. What are your orders?”

Sometimes, life just didn’t go your way.

 

[TAC]

For leading a band of no-good, scum eating pirates, Captain Isabella Goodrich ran an extremely tight crew. They had their fun, plundered to their hearts desire, but there were few souls on the ship who dared stand alone to the slim woman that commanded the Captain's Revenge. And so the crew who had long ago come to terms with the stupidity of going toe to toe with the woman relished experiences where less than fortunate and unknowing souls picked a fight with the Pirate Captain.

If there was one thing she hated even more than disrespectful crew members, however, it was spies. It mattered not to the Lorridian whether they were working with her or against her, she had a deep distaste and distrust for anyone who could be so deceiving and/or squirrley. When one of her crew had first reported a store away, her eyes had lit up in a mix of excitement and anger. Her crew did love a little sport to remind them who was in charge, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity.

When she had first entered the hold where the being had locked themselves into a crate, she had tossed the crate around a bit, flipping it upside down and moving it all around. The being did not make a peep, however, and the Captain realized that this was a being who knew enough to be quiet. Now assuming that the stowaway was in fact a spy, she had taken all of her men back and stood with two men on post to wait for him to make a move. Eventually she had to move onto another task, but in a few hours the voice of one of the guards crackled that there was movement and she rushed towards the hold.

The mic crackled and reported that they had detained him, just as she entered the room. Captain Isabella Goodrich was tall, about 5' 11", and she glared with an icy glaze at the man on the ground beneath her. She didn't speak, but indicating the second man and the man pinning the rat should hold him up against the wall. They followed her unspoken Orders and she followed them closely, continuing to search the intruder's face with a look of utter, pure, unhindered disdain. Several of the crew came in towards the back of the moderately large hold, watching the action.

Reaching back without a word, Captain Goodrich removed one of her batons from its holder in the small of her back. The flicked the energy on, and the baton crackled with an deathly and sickening energy. Her eyes never left the spy's face, and she jabbed the sparking baton into the young man's gut, the guards holding him firm up against the wall as his body undoubtedly attempted to double up.

Paying no heed to any pleas, she jabbed him again, the electric baton causing searing electric that would make his entire body feel like burning jello. After the second jab she narrowed her eyes, her stance square and firm. "Explain," she said in a quiet but fierce voice, "Before this kills you." Without waiting for a reply she jabbed the man again, each successive attack more painful than the last, stealing the breath away from the man's body. The crew standing behind her peered as past they could while keeping their distance, not wanting to disrupt their Captain, or worse yet have her turn the attention to one of them. Several sick smiles could be seen.

 

[Lloyd Gross]

Welp, I messed up somewhere. He thought as the man pinned him to the ground.

“Got lost on the way to the ‘fresher!” Coryn laughed as the two men pinned him up against the wall. He could see Isabella approaching and a large group of observers gathering. No, he hadn't messed up. Someone, probably his contact, had set him up.

“Place is bigger than the Kessel mines. I see you take proper navigation seriously though.” He smiled at the flashing beam of energy emanating from Isabella’s weapon. “Totally gunna ask for directions next time.”

The weapon plunged deep into his gut. His contact who’d told him about the Captain’s Revenge had mentioned Isabella’s weapon of choice. He’d even suggested an armor overlay that would dissipate the electrical attack. Coryn never thought he’d come face to face with the woman though. At least, his contact hadn't been lying completely; but Coryn wasn't going to forgive the guy for setting him up. Coryn wanted to resist doubling over but the electrical charge coursing through his body constricted his abdominal muscles and forced him over. He wouldn’t yell out though.

“Explain, before this kills you.” Isabella said with a vicious snarl. The next attack came before he could respond.

“Not buyin’ the ol’ “got lost” routine, huh?” Another course of electricity shot through him. He resigned to letting out a long grunt through gritted teeth. Isabella needed a good pirate with resources like him. Coryn had been desperate two weeks ago; if he hadn't been so desperate he would have been able to sniff out the obvious plant. Hindsight, it wasn't supposed to show up just yet.

“Your intelligence operatives suck, ma’am!” He said when she removed the baton long enough for him to give a serious reply. “I’m here for a job.”

 

[TAC]

The young, brown haired man babbled excuses and banter throughout the Captain's actions, but she paid them no heed and gave the man no quarter. She had no pity and no sympathy for a spy, and she was not impressed from the start with the man's half-hearted defenses as her men had subdued him and she had approached him. It was obvious that the man recognized her, furthering her theory that he was a spy with a very specific intent.

At his announcing that he was there for a job, and that her own informants were less than satisfactory, she gave a moments pause. All that the tall Lorridian could manage was a puzzled look of disbelief as, not fully believing that this was the way this scum was going to escape his consequences. Behind her, the onlooking crew echoed her own looks of disbelief. One of the men holding him looked between the Captain and the young man, back again two or three times, and then he cracked a wide, toothy smile.

And he began to laugh. Hysterically. He leaned into the young man he was holding against the wall, still holding onto him. The other guard began laughing as well, and laughter began erupting from the back of the hold as well. The Captain continued her quizzical look until the man that had started the laughter had to stop holding Coryn because he was laughing so hard, simply putting a loose hand on the young man as he doubled over in laughter, facing away from both the man he was supposed to be restraining and Isabella.

Finally, at the apex of the laughter, the Captain cracked a small smile. And her first came up, making up for the smile with a much larger crack to the spy's temple, almost undoubtedly knocking him unconscious to the floor.

 

[Lloyd Gross]

Coryn watched a small shadow flicker from around the crates. He managed to suppress a smile. The two bumbling idiots and the captain hadn’t searched him for bugs and apparently weren’t even jamming signals from within the cargo bay. Just more evidence that they needed better protection. He’d have to explain that to her after she got done beating on him. But for now, he was just glad that his slave, and partner, had remembered the code word and was now approaching the situation stealthily. He didn’t know why everyone was laughing. Sure he went about getting a job different than most; but it wasn’t that funny.

Coryn frowned as the guffaw started. He cocked his head to the side. Really it wasn’t that funny. The next step of the plan was riskiest. It would either get him an audience with the captain, alone and level headed. Or he’d end up floating through space with no suit. Coryn’s slave, Kyta, was approaching steadily, remaining unobtrusive and inconspicuous. He turned back to Isabella in an attempt to keep from drawing any unwanted attention to Kyta. Isabella cocked back her first. Coryn braced for the hit and slumped to his knees. His vision tunneled and he felt his arms slump. He rocked back and forth for several seconds before his vision cleared. If she’d been any bigger, or if he’d been smaller she might have been able to knock him out with one blow.

Kyta was standing behind the captain. Coryn’s head was swimming and pounding but he was regaining control of his body. “Now. I believe we were discussing that job?”

Coryn pointed behind the captain to Kyta. She was a miniscule Twi’lek woman of blue color. Her hands were out and thumbs were depressing the switches of thermal detonators. Coryn knew this would bring back bad memories for Isabella. But, if she wasn’t suicidal, she would have to listen to them; until she came up with a plan to kill both Coryn and Kyta. “Thumb comes off that switch. We all die. Now, the leas’ you could do’s listen?”

 

[TAC]

Truth be told, Isabella was more than a little disappointed that the punch did not knock the man clean out. She was a tall woman, and that height gave her a lot of power. Indeed, she had knocked out much tougher men, and she squinted with a bit of annoyance at the man - and she realized she did not know his name, which bothered her. The woman mulled over her options, trying to decide if he was a worth another punch or if she should just take her leave then and there.

Oddly enough, he insisted that there was a job yet to be had. The Captain had thought she had made herself painfully clear that she had little tolerance for spies and the likes. He pointed through restrained arms, however, behind the woman. There stood a small girl, his accomplice she assumed. Isabella's veins ran cold, and the crew grew quiet as they realized was what ongoing in front of them. It was a scene they had all envisioned, and none of them had ever wanted to become a reality. For however much Isabella was liked and respect, her predecessor had been even more so, and the crew was not amused by the threat.

The woman once again weighed her options, the stun baton in her hand and her men still pinning the first of the intruders against the wall. Tons of thoughts and options ran through her head as she stared the other woman down, and she stood a little straighter when she decided on a final course of action. No pun intended.

"If you are really as good as you say, and you've done your research as it appears you have, you know that I do not kill for fun." The woman said, angling herself slightly to the man behind her, but her eyes never leaving the thermal detonator. "And so you wouldn't be willing to die just to get a few minutes with me, as you are suggesting with this thermal detonator." Reassured by her own words, she finally took her eyes off of the thermal detonator, returning her cool gaze to the man pinned against the wall. Her baton passed to her left hand and she stuck out the right to the newly appearing woman.

"So how about you have her hand me the thermal detonator, and then maybe we can have a conversation that doesn't involve me beating your skin off of you for threatening me with a thermal."

 

[Lloyd Gross]

Coryn was satisfied with the silence that ensued. There were scores of crew members around for the fun. But the fun just got deadly, and there was no one laughing now. Sure, he still didn’t have the upper hand; but at least now he was in the card game. "If you are really as good as you say, and you've done your research as it appears you have, you know that I do not kill for fun. And so you wouldn't be willing to die just to get a few minutes with me, as you are suggesting with this thermal detonator."

Maybe she’d seen through his bluff. If she had, she was smarter than he gave her credit for. It still didn’t explain how a woman with two thermal detonators and a few other weapons was able to sneak aboard a vessel of the Cartel. So maybe Isabella was smart, but that didn’t mean she was being smart. Of course there was still the possibility that she was suicidal. Isabella struck out at Kyta. Isabella was tall and Kyta was short; that fact gave Kyta the time she needed to move out of the way slightly.

"So how about you have her hand me the thermal detonator, and then maybe we can have a conversation that doesn't involve me beating your skin off of you for threatening me with a thermal."

“Do you always attack before negotiating? Because you may need to try a new tactic.” Coryn said. “Kyta, give her the thermals.”

Kyta obliged, she switched them off and tossed them to Isabella. If she chose to catch them, or even if they fell to the floor. She’d notice that they were nothing more than children’s replicas of thermal detonators with plastic housing and LED lights pulsing within the housing.

“If this had been a real threat ma’am. You and most of your crew would be dead. Like it or not, you’d benefit from having a rogue mind like me on board. Someone willing to go before a person of power and bring to light their worst nightmare. Someone willing to endure pain and battery to accomplish the task at hand. Me.” Coryn explained plainly. He was probably about to be knocked out for sure this time; he braced himself for it but wouldn’t resist this time. He was out of tricks and cards to play. If this didn’t work, he’d just have to try and not get spaced.