Hunt on Hoth

Livgardist

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ANOTHER CRAPPY JOB
SOMEWHERE ON HOTH
52615001025ABY
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"It's colder than Andraste's bloody balls!"

Uncas was a simple man (not really). He liked simple things (not really). Good food, good liquor, pretty girls, a good swordfight...and, you know...heat. None of which was to be found on this shitty planet. In fact, all there was, as far as the eye could see, was snow, ice, and some more snow, with the occasional wampa trying to rip your head off. He had seen his fair share of hostile planets, but none as hostile as this one. Not to mention, terrifyingly lifeless, and cold, colder than you could possibly imagine. In fact, he mused to himself, it should have been named Coldth, as opposed to Hoth...

He wasn't alone on this job, and his companion made up for Uncas' talkative nature with his stern silence. To be honest, the young mercenary had not even seen his face, the man being shrouded in black garbs and a hood that hid his face almost completely. Two days earlier, he had hired Uncas on Nar Shaddaa to go with him on a mission to Hoth, to investigate the supposed location of an old tomb. Uncas hadn't asked questions, especially not after being paid fifteen thousand credits for what seemed like a babysitting job.

They had left the man's ship two hours earlier, and were now nearing what looked like a snow-clad mountain range, apparently their destination. While Uncas was blowing into his hands to keep them warm, the man ahead of him seemed unbothered, focused. In fact, he seemed to either not have heard, or simply have ignored Uncas' remark about the temperature, causing Uncas to roll his eyes before resuming the pursuit of his employer. His hands moved in under his clothes, where he felt the grip of his dual bladed lightsaber, hidden from sight.

"We are here." The man suddenly stopped as they faced a massive wall of ice and rock at the very foot of the mountain.

"And where exactly is here?" Uncas muttered. "I didn't bring my ladder, you know..."

"You have eyes, but you do not see." The man scoffed, not trying to hide his disdain. Once more, Uncas rolled his eyes behind the man's back. The hooded man raised a hand and touched the ice. As he did, blue sparks began to crawl along the skin of his hand, until they grew in size, and suddenly transferred onto the ice. Like liquid the electric force spread in a large pattern that increased in intensity until a vivid pattern was clearly visible on the ice.

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As the hooded man stepped back, there was a groaning sound, ice breaking free, and suddenly, the ice divided, and a massive door opened into the side of the mountain.

"Holy hell, it's a hidden doorway." Uncas exclaimed.

As the door opened, they found themselves staring at a massive, black tunnel. Without hesitation, Uncas' companion stepped into the darkness. As he walked, blue runes on the walls around them gradually began to glow, illuminating the way for them. There was a slight wind in the tunnel, which left a wheezing sound in their ears. Uncas wasn't sure, but he thought he could even hear the faint whisper of voices mixed with the wind. It felt almost as if the voices caressed his ear, barely out of audible range, only to then disappear, and return once more, teasing his auditory senses, but never quite making their presence known.

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn...

Uncas tilted his head slightly, frowning. Did he just...?

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn....

Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!!!


He jumped in surprise as a shrill voice screamed what sounded like garbled mumbojumbo in his ears. He stopped and looked around, shocked and tense. The creak of boots against snow drew his attention to his companion, who didn't seem to have noticed or heard anything. Uncas frowned. "Did you...?" He began, but his voice trailed off when the man ignored him. His red-skinned hand clutched his lightsaber under the furs he wore over his clothes. He had a feeling he would be needing it soon.

Yet another job I shouldn't have taken..., he thought to himself.
 
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Ivaris

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Mos Eisley, Tatooine. It wasn’t the nicest place in the galaxy. To be fair it was probably one of the worst. A place where law was set by the words of the Hutts, but ruled by guns in the streets.

Her brown boots kicked up dust as she walked along the dirty, crowded streets. She was dressed in plain cargo pants, long-sleeved shirt, armored vest, and utility belt with her blasters and a knife. Her short copper hair was covered by a long brown wig.

She headed to the cantina nearest the landing docks, not even paying attention to the name of the sign outside. Her eyes were on the slaves that passed her, in their bronze collars and many in bare feet. The Outer Rim was one of the few places where slavery was still legal, which made Murigheal’s skin crawl. Even after being free for the majority of her life, her body furthermore carried scars documenting captivity.

Ripping her eyes away, she stalked inside. Thankfully her entrance didn’t bring attention, the interior bustling with dozens of species, some she’d never seen before. The Bith band played catchy tunes that added to the background of Huttese, Bocce, Durese, and whatever other language people were speaking in. Taking a place at one end of the bar, she waited patiently for the human bartender to approach her.

“What will it be? We’ve got things from almost every corner of the known galaxy.”

“Reactor core, please.”

“That’s it?” he chuckled, turning to fill her order, “Like I said, if you ask for it we more than likely have it.” Coming back a few minutes later and setting down her drink, he asked, “What brings you here? Business?”

“As usual. But I don’t know how long I will have to stay here. My ship is pretty well grounded, until I can find someone I trust enough to fix her.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those types. Many here would sympathize with you. Well, best of luck.”

Staringoff into space, Murigheal sighed. She’d never had a gift with machines, no matter how much she tried. Which was unfortunate, considering she couldn’t get off the planet unless she found help.
 

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Elayne had been in the bar since about eight in the morning casually sipping on cheep beer as she tallied up her earnings for the past week. She hung her head after realizing that she had spent more than she made attempting to gather spare parts for her business. Being a mechanic next to a spaceport would normally be a great gig but Tatooine was an exception due to the vast amount of cartel members and low lives passing through the spaceport who thought that they could get away without paying. Elayne couldn't count how many times she'd had to wave a gun in order to get payment. "This kind of thing doesn't happen on other planets." She thought to herself as she finished her can of beer and pocketed her tablet.

Elayne sat in silence listening to the band as a woman with long brown hair sat down next to her. She perked up however as she overheard the woman's current predicament. "Pardon me ma'am, but did you just say you were lookin for a mechanic?" Elayne asked as she turned her head to look at the woman. "If your ships busted I'll be happy to take a look at her." She added with a smile as she shelled out enough spare credits to pay for her drinks.
 

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She turned her head to the figure approaching. Rough, grease-stained hands, scarred face, and a confident swagger to her step. Her interest was piqued already.

The first question Muirgheal wanted to ask was, ‘can I trust you,’ given the reputation—and past experiences with— certain mechanics at Mos Eisley. But that was no way to start a conversation, if in fact this bright-eyed woman’s integrity and skills were worth anything. And she couldn’t afford to chase her off when it meant staying another day in this cesspool. Time was credits, going down the drain. With that she thought of credits being thrown down the refresher. She shuddered.

“Let’s talk.”

After knocking back most of her drink, she slapped a golden chip on the table next to the glass. Then she turned and motioned for her to follow outside. The heat and sun’s glare were almost unbearable, even with an open umbrella over her head to keep her pale skin from burning. Maybe a peculiar sight, but Muirgheal didn’t mind.

“Name’s Muirgheal Ahn. And yours?” Assuming the other woman would reply, Muirgheal would only nod in response. She was silent the rest of the walk.

Upon reaching the loading dock A, Muirgheal stopped and let Evelyn take in her ship for a moment. It was a relatively small Dynamic-class freighter, with various dents and patches of rust that made it look like it had seen better days. In scratched black paint ‘Dangerio’ was emblazoned on the sides.

“She ain’t pretty, but she’s fast. That was, until one of the reactors quit. It won’t even take off now. If you want you can take a look inside. Just be careful. She’s my baby.”

She was someone else’s baby. Until Muirgheal decided to “borrow” it back on Nar Shadda. Permanently.
 

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"Names Elayne, Elayne Arcania." She said in response to Muirgheal's question. It wasent a terribly long walk from the bar to the hangerbay where Ahn's ship was parked.


“She ain’t pretty, but she’s fast. That was, until one of the reactors quit. It won’t even take off now. If you want you can take a look inside. Just be careful. She’s my baby.”

Elayne chuckled a little as she climbed into the old Dynamic freighter and made her way towards the ship's engine room. "Don't worry I've fixed more than my fare share of hyper matter engines, yours should be no different." She added as she knelt down by the lifeless reactor. Elayne unscrewed the side access panels, exposing the fuse box and the general inner workings of the generator. Right off the bat she noticed that 3 of the fuses had blown and some of the wire had been stripped. "So what were you doing right before Dangerio decided that she was done flying?" Elayne asked as she re-sheathed the exposed wires with electrical tape before pulling out the blown fuses and replacing them with a few new or at least newer ones. "Go ahead and try to cycle the engines, let's see if that fixed it." She added as she replaced the panels and inspected the rest of the generator, waiting for it to spring to life.
 

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Ivaris heard her in the back room “Transporting a type of firegems, or at least that was what I was told they were. I got them too close to the engines and tried to enter orbit. I knew to keep them away from the hyperdrive, but not the regular reactors. Should have done my homework before I agreed to take on the job, ‘cause I clearly got screwed.” she laughed wryly. It wasn’t terribly funny, she knew, and hoped the mechanic wouldn’t see through her horrible acting skills that shouted, “I really have no business being a smuggler. I have no idea what I’m doing!”

Her expression brightened when Elayne clearly was able to fix the problem. “I’ll go check. Stay tight in case anything breaks again.” She turned on her heel and walked through the main hold to the cockpit. Settling down herself in the captain’s chair, she flipped various switches to start powering up the reactors.

Suddenly she was distracted by a feeling she couldn’t quite place. A longing? Muirgheal shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted. “Okay, I think it’s working—” before she could finish her sentence, a whisper gently spoke in her mind. Is was as if it was muted, like coming from a great distance.

‘Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn..’

Shaking her head, she tried to ignore it. Maybe she should lay off of the spice for a few nights just to be safe.

’Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.…’

“Evelyne, did you say something? Or hear anything?”

’Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!!!’

Her hands began to tremble as one of them paused over the switch for the rear hatch control. Harley aware of what she was doing, she triggered it and sat back down in her chair. ‘What is this? Maybe I DO need more spice. Deathsticks. That will stop the whispers.’ Yet a small part of her doubted it would help. The drive in her body pulsed again, this time for a sudden yearning that came out on her lips.

“Hoth…”

What respite would the ball of frozen ice and wind hold? Certainly none for Elayne, who would be upset at their unannounced detour. But Muirgheal didn’t care.

@Wolver512 @Livgardist
 

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"Heh, I'd like to get my hands on a few of those! Think your employer would mind if a few came up as missing?" She said with a lite chuckle. A few moments later the engine roared to life as Muirgheal started the ship. The crimson emergency lights flickered off and were immediately replaced by a soft white glow.

"Well that should do it, not sure how some weapons managed to blow a fuse but it's fixed now." Elayne said as she wiped the grease on her pants and walked into the cockpit. Muirgheal Was sitting in the pilot's seat, visibly shaken.

"Hoth" Muirgheal muttered once Elayne finished her sentence. "Hoth? What so special about that frozen wasteland of a planet? Only thing there is ice, death, and more ice." She said with a mild chuckle.
 
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