What We're Owed

[Galavant]

What We're Owed

Jabiim | Monsoon Mesa | Fueling Station​

The Smuggler's Association had never been the biggest, or baddest of criminal organizations out there. It's feeling on conflict and all that was more "live and let live" rather than "let's all stop making money and start killing each other over petty reasons". But that didn't mean that the organization was pacifist, and that certainly didn't mean that it liked being stiffed on payment. Jabiim was a planet that the Association had some history on, it had been on Jabiim that they'd made their first big score as an organization rather than as a pack of individual smugglers. Since then they'd gained a few contacts on the planet, including the boss of a fuel station on the aptly named Monsoon Mesa.

Andrena was glad it wasn't monsoon season, and for probably the only time of the year, the sun was sun was shining on the place. There were puffy gray clouds here and there, but by Jabiim standards it was probably a pleasant day. As far as Andrena was concerned any day you were on a planet was not a pleasant one. Jabiim especially was a planet that she was not eager to visit exactly. Mud was easily the third worst substance in the galaxy and more insidious than a thousand Sith Empires. It was like water and dirt had a baby and that baby grew up to be a serial killer who stuffed a moth down the throat of its victims as a calling card. The station itself was large, and easily noticeable as the large metal sections of it stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the mud of the mesa that surrounded it.

Andrena doubted that meant there wasn't any mud in the place however. The whole reason they were here was that the station boss had kept skimping on payments for work down by members of the Smuggler's Association. That meant he was either stupidly greedy and keeping more profits for himself, or he was incredibly incompetent and simply didn't have the funds to actually pay them. Either way, the Association was getting what it was owed, and if it wasn't in the place, they'd take it as a down payment. The only problem was that Andrena had no idea what to actually do to achieve that end. Which was why she'd brought friends who hopefully would.

The Islandfire was a lot more crowded than she was used to with all the different people in it. Andrena usually didn't get into the people smuggling business because they kept trying to talk and it was miserable on a long haul. That and the Alabaster's got dirty really easy. Andrena's still looked as good as the day it'd first been pushed out of the shipyards. Mostly through a lot of elbow grease, but also by not letting just anyone aboard. Hutts for example, Hutts were the worst. Now there were people all over the place. Someone manning each of the turrets, 10-4 rolling around the place as usual aaaaaaaaaaaand a lot more guns than usual. Hopefully things didn't escalate into violence, and they could just get what they were owed and go.

But experience on Nar Shaddaa taught her that violence was pretty inevitable when it came to credits.

The fueling facility's layout was fairly straight forward. A large dome-sphere-ish shape dominated the whole thing. It was where the docking bays were and the adminstrative hub. Fuel lines connected to spherical tanks nearby, allowing tankers to dock and carry fuel off elsewhere. Nearby was a small processing center with plumes of smoke that would probably cause a lot of health problems if you breath it in. The main "slab" was dominated by tanks both sphereical, and other shapes that were awaiting shipment aboard a pusher freighter or to be picked up by a speeder and carried off to another location on Jabiim. A few towers rose out of this as locations for fuel to go in the case of problems. If something went wrong, it'd be shunted into a tower, lit on fire, and burned off in a controlled manner to keep excess fuel from building up anywhere, and preventing the facility from just going "boom" because someone shot at it once. Facilities like there were a lot tougher than people gave them credit for.

Putting the Islandfire down in one of the docking bays, Andrena ignored the dock master screaming and trying to figure out why she was landing there. Which probably meant that they were was probably going to be company soon.

Just another day in the fascinating life of the outlaw.

 

[Algarus]

Walking down the ramp of The Dauntless, Darva fidgeted with the few credits he kept on himself and handed the payment off to the deck crew that had arrived to refuel his ship. Yet another payment down the drain. He thought bitterly. Freelancing hadn't been to profitable as he would of liked, but seeing as how all of his mentor's contacts were either dead or had cut him loose he didn't have many options; not to mention his difficulty trusting people. He didn't like the idea of getting into anything serious with any major group, but seeing as how he was running low on funds, he'd have to figure something out soon. By his calculations he could have at least three rounds of Ruby Blaze and still have enough for the next fueling. He felt lucky that the clinic on Corellia was still willing to pay him for deliveries, but even that was starting not to be worth it. He also needed a crew taking care of the ship was too much for him to do by himself, but who could he trust not to mess up his baby? It was literally the only thing he owned, well that his sidearm and few sets of clothes. He sighed in annoyance; he was thinking too much and the best cure for that would be to get a drink. Maybe he'd run into someone who'd be willing to pay him for a job here? Not likely, but he could dream if he wanted to. Before leaving his ship in the bay, he checked to made sure his blaster was still at to it's full charge and concealed in his vest holster. His past experience had taught him the importance of being armed while off the ship, even if it broke a few rules. Seeing that all was well, he proceeded on.

 

[Halcyon]

~~ Theme ~~​

The Eidolon carried out the landing vector without a hitch. Keeping a close eye on the blinking lights on the cockpit while, at the same time, taking in the beautiful desolate landscape of Monsoon Mesa through the dirtied window, Nova Starcry took a final sip from his cup of caf. Placing the empty cup on a coaster, on top of the instrument board, he took that opportunity to caress the ship's yoke.

"Nice job, Eiddie," he said to her, "now set us down gently."

The Alabaster Escort Freighter complied, docking next to another ship of the same make and model. Nova shuddered; the landing went quite smoothly, even on autodock, so either the caf was kicking in or the image of Andrena turning yet another quarrel into a brawl was behind it. If it was any indication, the caffa from Garqi was rather weak.

Nova ended up with an humongous supply of the stuff after another smuggling job gone wrong, and another paycheck gone lost; so, he had been drinking the stuff during the past couple of weeks, and was getting rather addicted to the hot drink.

"Hey El," he turned to the astromech navigator on the co-pilot seat - metaphorically speaking, since there wasn't any, "take care of her while I'm gone." He instructed the droid while getting up from his leather seat and gently moving a hand against the cockpit's low ceiling. Realizing something, he addressed the droid once again, "And keep the engines running."

The once Padawan picked up his dark fencing leather jacket from behind the pilot's seat and, after putting it on, slid the zipper on the right all the way up to the top. He groped his left thigh, beneath the belt, to check for his lightsaber. A smuggler without any visible weapon would actually arouse more suspicion, so he donned the multi-pocketed leather baldric across his torso, over his left shoulder, and holstered both blaster pistols to it; one on his right side at the waist, and the other concealed behind his back, strapped to the middle of the baldric. As usual, some daggers were concealed on both his knee-high boots and several leather straps around his legs, but those had plenty of buckles, clasps, and toecaps, so he should be fine.

Although the sun was shining, the Arkanian Offshoot hybrid picked up his dark blue scarf and looped it around his neck a couple of times, letting the remaining fabric hang from his back over his left shoulder. He then pulled out his long silvery white hair from beneath it, shaking his head a couple of times to free it and make sure that his pointy ears were fully concealed by it. Almost near the exit and while waiting for the hangar door to open, he took the long dark overcoat hanging on a hook and put it on, and lowered his tinted goggles over his silver blue eyes as he went outside.

Leaving the freighter through the access ramp, he glanced at the Islandfire, side by side with the Eidolon. Two of a kind. Now, to find the Captain.

.
.
.
There were always... complications whenever he and Andrena were together. It wasn't really fair to blame it all on her, Nova was to blame for many of those situations as well. Just that, when they were together, things had a tendency to go very wrong, very fast.

The female smuggler did help him fix the Eidolon once, and did a hell of fine job with her! Nova Starcry was grateful for that, but he never got around to fully pay her and the Smugglers Association for all the parts and maintenance done.

Maybe after this meeting his debt would finally be paid.

He saw Andrena at a distance, waved, and walked towards her; completely ignoring whoever was yelling so loud, nearby.

 

[Insoulent]

Ugh, credits. Everything was always about credits to smugglers. If it didn't pay well, it wasn't worth it. If it paid too much, the smugglers worried. Elohim however didn't care for either. He wasn't here because he was skipped on his payments by Monsoon Mesa - three times if anyone was counting, Elohim wasn't - but because the rest of the Association was going. He wanted to make sure that they didn't

"You know, we could of just added this guy to the black list and be done with it." the human counseled as he leaned against the doorway to the cockpit of the Islandfire, facing the Captain of the ship. "But it's the principle that matters." he said in a mocking tone, no doubt trying his best to read the captain's mind on the subject, following her as she made her way out to the landing bay. Of course that was sort of the point, the client and the SA went way back, for him to screw them over, well, it warranted some sort of action. Elohim had only come to try and mediate the problem, fix it if at all possible, but like every other being on board, knew that more than likely they'd have to fight their way out.

"You going to want me to come with, or should I keep the landing bay secured?" Elohim would try his best to avoid a fight, and should it spring up, he'd be the first one leading the pack back to the ship and escape. And he'd do only that. His reputation in the association was well known: he was a practicing pacifist. He tried to avoid violence whenever possible, but he wasn't apposed to fighting for his survival and while the rest of the smugglers might of not appreciated the concept of friendship, Elohim very much considered it's members worth trying to protect. Even if it was over "credits".

 

[Beta12]

Dyson sat cross legged in the co-pilots chair of the Island Fire, idly tapping the barrel of his DL-18 Blaster Pistol on the sole of his left boot. The Zeltron's hair was in its usual haphazard state. His clothes were neat, and the only noticeable change in his standard wardrobe was the subtle bump of armor plating underneath his jacket and shirt. The young man's body was rigid, despite the decent cushioning his seat provided. His eyes flicked to a new object within the cockpit every five seconds. If it hadn't been for Andrena keeping him busy with flight controls, he might have gone right out of the loading bay as soon as the ship landed.

It was considered a beautiful day on the planet as they had made their approach and landing, but the Smugglers Association had not arrived on the planet for a picnic. Dyson, along with several other smugglers in the association, were owed credits. Some had been burnt worse than others, and multiple times. Dyson himself had made a single run for the man in question. Spice was one of the few ways to brighten up a world as dull and muddy as Jabiim, and Dyson had delivered quite an amount to the man in question only a week ago. Though the Zeltron had been worried his payment had not gone through, he had been completely dumbfounded when he realized he had been shorted entirely.

"You know, we could of just added this guy to the black list and be done with it. But it's the principle that matters."

A sharp frown found its way across Dyson's face as Elohim spoke from the compartments entrance. "Principle my ass. Kriff better have my money." His mumbling was either ignored, or lost on the other two completely as they made their way for the loading bay. Elohim probably fancied himself as the voice of reason on their expedition, but Dyson just considered him another morally superior ideologue to brush off. He didn't need some voice in his head telling him what was right and wrong, he had a conscience for that, and he neglected that one too.

"You going to want me to come with, or should I keep the landing bay secured?"

"Hmpf." A breathy sigh escaped the Zeltron's lips as he passed the two. Dyson was pretty sure he had seen smoke spewing from the docking manager's ears as they made their landing. If this station had any sort of security or muscle, it was likely headed this way to tell them to get the correct parking permit. Or worse, threaten to call up the sector rangers. I'd totally be shivering in my boots for that one. Without hesitation the young man slapped his left palm on the controls for the loading bay. Air and light flooded the bay as the ship's hydraulics began to lower the door. "You're right man. I'll go ask if they can bring the manager here nicely." He gripped the handle of his pistol firmly as he made his way out into the world beyond the ship.

 

[Galavant]

"You know, we could of just added this guy to the black list and be done with it. But it's the principle that matters."

"Principle my ass. Kriff better have my money."

"Actually it's about ethics in extralegal shipping," Andrena shot back at the two. She hoped the entire trip wouldn't be like this the witty banter would get old real quick in her opinion. They were already bickering like an old married couple, and Andrena didn't want to see them after Elohim inevitably fell for the Zeltron's wiles. Grabbing her blaster pistol she checked the infernal thing over to make sure it hadn't fouled up. Like everything else, she tried to keep as perfectly clean as possible, but she was a bit more paranoid about the gun failing when she really needed it to not, so have it a quick run over with the sleeve of her jacket. Just to make sure there wasn't anything on the outside. And since she was already doing, she might as well get a brush and start on the inside of the barrel, make sure that there wasn't anything interrupted the feed from the power pack, and then disassemble the entire trigger mechanism just to be sure that-

No that would take too long.

She'd have to do it when they were done, but definitely before they took off.

"Besides I think we might want to start investing real estate a bit further from the inevitable mess than Axxila," She continued, hoping neither of them would dispute that. It seemed like the ball was likely to drop somewhere near the Border Alliance and while there would probably be great profit to have, with great profit came great property damage when it was gained in war.

"You going to want me to come with, or should I keep the landing bay secured?"

"You're right man. I'll go ask if they can bring the manager here nicely."

"Let's all go ask him nicely that way if someone shoots at us there's only a thirty-three point three repeating chance that they shoot at me instead of a fifty percent chance," She said, getting up and heading towards the ramp. She being somewhat dramatic, but only somewhat. The biggest benefit of having other people around was that there were always more people than you to shoot at. That and playing cards alone sucked.

"Ten-Four?" Where was the little astromech droid anyway?

N10-T4 beeped a few times in response, and nearly ran into a console trying to get to where the three were. It was kind of sad, but also kind of funny. Like watching a puppy run into a wall.

"I'm leaving you in charge."

The little droid gave a salute with his manipulator arm, and scurried off. Probably to try to remove the transponder the Smuggler's Association had installed on the Islandfire again. Well at least he'd be occupied. Walking down the ramp, pistol in hand, armor on under the jacket, Andrena was ready for some trouble.

But instead there was just the Nova guy.

"Hey," She said, showing off her advanced mastery of the Basic language and her extraordinary nuance and abilities in communicating with others. It was nice to see another familiar face, and more importantly starship, especially for a job like this.

She was walking towards him when she stopped suddenly, and started looking around the docking bay.

Then she scratched her.

It was surprisingly quiet, and normal like.

"Shouldn't there be large people with guns telling us we can't land here?" She asked, confused more than anything.

 

[Dana Hunt]

Dana walked inside the cockpit, fresh out of bed. Or rather, fresh out of cold piece of metal with blankets repurposed to be bed. As usual, there was a mild exchange of heated words. Sometimes, she didn't understand how they all put up with each other. Even Dana, who had grown used to alway expect stupidness from others had come to see that the members of the SA she was travelling with weren't completely useless, and therefore decided to take a more relaxed stance with them as opposed to her natural dickish attitude. In truth, they were more like a big, dysfunctional family on a road trip than a group of profesional smugglers (if there was even anything profesional on being a smuggler).

"You know, we could of just added this guy to the black list and be done with it. But it's the principle that matters." Elohim said with a hint of mockery in his voice. Typical.

"Principle my ass. Kriff better have my money." Dyson's voice chimed in from the co-pilot seat, brushing Elohim off. Typical.

"Actually it's about ethics in extralegal shipping," Andrena finally spoke up, indirectly shutting them up. Again, typical.

Dana wasn't sure how their group of misfits and social outcasts was gonna pressure this guy into doing anything, but there was always the option of pointing a blaster at his forehead while seductively smiling. That one always seemed to do the trick. Snapping away from her thoughts and trying to be social (a rare ocurrence), Dana chimed in on their conversation. "Wait, you're saying there are ethics involved in extralegal shipping? Well, you do learn something new everyday!" Leaning against the doorway the opposite side from Elohim and continued listening. Andrena was right in that the SA needed more tangible assets, especially real estate. Nevertheless, no matter how friendly she was being today, she wasn't about to tell someone else she agreed with her. She had limits. Elohim, on the other hand, appeared to be looking for a way to avoid violence. While Dana wasn't exactly a fan of it, she didn't mind getting her hands dirty every now and then. "You could always stay up here and cook up something for when we get back. I looooove tortellinis." She said with a chuckle.

Nevertheless, Andrena decided they would all go down, and so they would all go down. Dana followed them to the ramp and down the ship. "Wait, wouldn't those statistics apply to all of us?" She said, trying to get on Andrena's hair. Dana really was in a good mood today, which was weird considering they would likely be under heavy fire soon. Stepping down the ramp with her hands on her blasters at all time. Like the others, she expected to be greeted by a firing squad or a pack of rancors, but instead another smuggler stood alone in the landing pad. Weird. Dana thought to herself.

"Shouldn't there be large people with guns telling us we can't land here?" Andrena asked genuinly confused.

"Well, we're certainly not gonna wait around for them to show up, are we?" Dana said as she began walking towards the entrance, hoping the others would follow.

 

[Darasuum]

so far the day had been a good one. W3SK had not been forced to deal with any complicated problems or extensive implications in otherwise normal daily matters. the part of Jabiim that she strode through was particularly pleasant and she knew that most humans reacted positively to an increased intake of vitamin D. unfortunately suicide and depression statistics would rise as they always did after enjoyable weather passed especially for non-residents who were unused to the standard climate.

there was not a great deal to do around these parts, not that W3SK was particularly interested in venturing out to enjoy activities. most families or individuals likely took these days to spend time outdoors relaxing and partying. such things the beautiful young female was indifferent towards participating in.

Her datapad vibrated slightly as she adjusted the sound settings for any further news updates and notifications she would receive on a regular basis. W3SK was headed towards the main fueling station to take time learning about the routine protocols and ways that such evolutions required. Her curiosity had been peaked at first by mining equipment that the world possessed and weather standards but now she had moved on towards combustible chemical compounds and other industrial advancements that the greater galaxy possessed. so far she knew this planet was not the lead in anything except perhaps the amount of malleable surface area. but all the same she hadn't found a decent ride off of the planet since she had been dropped off here and took the time to study whatever caught her curious eye.

all that the red haired beauty possessed was in her backpack or on her. she wore some rugged traveling clothes, though not intended to be fashionable it did not take away from her attractive appearance, the likes of which she wasn't particularly concerned with anyways. on her right hip she had her blaster and a utility knife on her left. she held onto the straps of her backpack with both hands despite not needing to add additional stability but for some reason she felt more comfortable that way then just having her hands at her sides or in her pockets.

the female walked through a set of automated heat protected doors into a landing and loading area. Her hazel-grey eyes scanned over the area in a moment and took in two similar ships though one seemed to be more well kept than the other as well as having a greater number of humanoid individuals outside of it. there didn't seem to be any other workers so W3SK walked towards them. she kept her eyes on the one that had the dominant posture and looked to the one that was the only individual that had exited the other vessel. both now were clearly Alabaster escort freighter as he memory told her of the ships specifications that she had studied momentarily weeks ago in addition to numerous other ship types.

"Greetings. Are you employees of this facility?"

she spoke looking between the group of people waiting for a response with a blank expression. most likely they were members of the crew of these ships but perhaps they knew where she could find members of the facility and point her in the right direction. her own curiosity got the better of her and her gaze returned to the two ships. eyeing the differences between the two and the slight changes that experience and practical application had as effects on the two vehicles.

 

[Diva]

Still working the underworld circuit. With guild membership being dangled before her like a carrot, her focus was sharp, but patience -- never her strongest trait -- was wearing thin. There was some solace to be found in knowing she could still hustle up private contracts if she wanted, and besides, at least know she was dressing more the part. Her stride was a little extra springy in the Pinstripe armorweave flight suit she had bought, and she was tactically as preped as ever, her hair even pulled back and flattened into two short ponytailsat the base of her neck. Dress for the job you want after all.

This place was filthy, and filled with filthy people, which put a litte grin on Diva's magenta lips. WAAAY to much time was being spent on the core worlds in the past week, and the fueling facilty felt all warm and scummy. Diva felt ready to work. Darfus Gade, the station boss here had been cooking the books of "import/export" business he was facilitating for people too powerful to bother with the details....until a few days ago; and now Darfus was worth what Diva understood to be his considerable weight in credits. More shiny new gear was just around the corner... literally.

The Matador had been peacfully docked and was getting a wash, as her long, agile legs carried her through the main concourse, taking in the sights on her way to the administratie offices on the other side. Her head turned to follow a very odd, but pretty young woman gripping her back pack as she passed, heading towards a docking bay that had drawn more than a little attention to itself from the staff...Diva took a peek at the ships and caught the sides of two similar feighters...Smuggler maybe? Not suprising at all, and not a problem. Continuing on her way, she stopped only a few meters later to by a kabob from an eager looking dug running his own little stand in the courtyard. No need to hunt on an empty stomach.

 

[Galavant]

"Well, we're certainly not gonna wait around for them to show up, are we?"

"I guess not," Andrena answered, although she would've preferred to stay somewhere, where there were very large guns on...well not terrible large ships, but large enough to give any security a second thought about messing with them whilst they were near by their ships. Of course there weren't exactly a lot of people hanging around the place, and if they were going to get anything done they had to go somewhere. Keeping her blaster handy, she followed Dana towards the entrance to the facility proper. She certainly hoped the rest of them were coming along as, once again, it was nice to have other people to be shot at, and to shoot back she guessed. She wasn't really much of an expert at this sort of thing. She got lost in that little train of thought until a red headed woman interrupted them.

If Andrena were less obtuse, she might've noticed something kind of off, and distinctly not human about her. But being Andrena, she was about as close to oblivious as they came.

"Greetings. Are you employees of this facility?"

At first Andrena was pretty sure they had to be talking to someone else, because the idea that they could be mistaken for employees was pretty far fetched. When she realized that they were the ones being addressed, she stopped and did a double take.

"Uhhhh no?" She replied. She was willing to bet that whoever it was, wasn't an employee, or they wouldn't be asking if Andrena and her best friends forever were. "Why do you ask?"

Maybe they could get a little more information before going further.

 

[Beta12]

A long, drawn out, and extremely petulant sigh passed through Dyson's lips as he watched the scene unfold before him. He had gone out with his blaster primed, and now the barrel was left to be tapped aimlessly against his thigh. His other hand had drifted to his hip, and no matter the beauty of the red-head before him, he had set his passions on something other than what he had gotten. That strange mix of adrenaline, emotional telepathy, and pheromones now forced his stomach into somersaults. The hand on his hip closed into a fist, and the fist itself dropped back down to his side. His violet eyes flicked about the faces around him, but landed on no one in particular. "I was serious about asking nicely, you know, Andy. Before I started shooting. My people..." He allowed himself a shameless wink toward the red head. "...have a way with words."

"Besides. I'm angry, I don't want that to rub off on anyone else unless you want it too." Dyson had a point. Zeltrons were something akin to emotional sponges, though they could pick up vibes around them, they could also expel them quite potently. "I can go for a walk at least... " And hit things. He left the last part out, of course, and offered his captain the prettiest smile he could manage. If shooting started, he could sure as hell run into the heat of things and help his fellows out. If it never came, he would rather enjoy a nice day snorting spice behind one of the fuel tanks.

@Galavant @Darasuum

 

[Halcyon]

At some point the outraged dock master finally gave up on trying to reason with the bootleggers, since none were actually even paying attention to his rants. He scurried off to - without a doubt - call some security.

The rest of the associates began pouring out of the Islandfire, as per the usual, talking among themselves and ignoring Nova completely. The Offshoot took the opportunity to check his phrik vambraces, concealed by the dark overcoat. They were starting to give him an itch. He then peered at the exterior, through the open hangar doors, and wondered where all the rain had went. Leave it to the Smuggler's Association to pick one of those five standard days a year when it was not deluging over every square meter of Jabiim's surface.

Defying the odds was, after all, a smuggler's job.

"Ooooh! A butterfly!"

Nova, filled with curiosity, began following the flying insect from a distance, so as to not disturb it. It was one of those belonging to the small and "regular" kind, unlike those nasty Corellian ones or the equally obnoxious Flewts from Naboo.

"Naboo," he whispered to himself. The name of the planet always made Nova smile. "Booooooooo." He giggled.

The other smugglers were still yapping and, until either someone finally decided it was about damn time to enter the facility or the tardy security officers showed up, Nova was content with simply skipping after the captivating little creature that the lack of rain had brought out to play.

As soon as that unpleasant business gets taken care of, the Arkanian would lay down on a bunk bed and relax on Eddie's captain's cabin - his own private chamber on the ship - and resume working on the fan fiction he was saving onto his datapad. He had just decided that, somehow, he would manage to add an event involving a butterfly to whatever he was going to write that night.

Then, something happened.

A pretty ginger walked into the dock, and threw a question at Andrena. Nova shifted his attention from one exotic creature to another. He reached out with the Force; the young girl lacked any perceptible will. A droid then.

He was about to tell Solus just that, when Dyson got in the middle. Starcry was still focusing on his Force perception, and he felt a strong desire, somewhat akin to murderous intent, coming from the surrounding area. It gave him pause. It was probably the Zeltron's anger flaring. Due to his nature, it felt strangely intense. The young man's pheromones were likely upsetting Nova's "regular" senses and causing them to mess with his Force one.

Either that, or it was someone just outside the docking area.

Maybe the bleached-looking smuggler was imagining things. Still, he moved a hand over his blaster, at the right hip, and another over the lightsaber, at the left; as if to make sure that they were still there.

 

[Diva]

Diva couldn't hear what was going on from her distance, but she watched the small gang of rakish spacers bicker while noisily chewing her overcooked Bantha-veal. It dawned on her fairly quickly that they must have been smugglers...she thought she may have recognized a face or two even. Pretty commong considering the operations here, but what were they all doing together, armed...and why were they being hastled if they had .....OH. Of course. Nothing was easy was it? She was here for Darfus because he was cooking the books....so naturally he must have been stiffing his delivery team. Well, like his recconing was at ...Double Kriff...

Dyson...

Diva was so stupified to see him she actually mumbled his name out loud over a mouth full of cheap depot meat. The noble hearted Zealtron was indeed all grown up and running with smugglers apparently. It actually sort of made her happy to see going down such an independant path, it meant he must have gotten free of his mother....oh shad. His mother had been all over the news because his father...well his father had been all over the...yeah. Rough. The worse part was that she had to yet again prolong a reunion she truly wanted, though she could never admit it to anyone ever. Still, 8,000 credits was 8,000 credits, and Dyson's new friends had just pushed her timetable way up. So much for enjoying the rare sunshine. Oh well....Her next stop was Tatooine...she'd get over it.

Spinning deftly on her broad theelin heels, Diva upped her pace and changed her trajectory to a b-line aiming for the management office, scarfing another two bites of kabob down, and tossed the stick. Upon arrival, she wailed on the door until a broad shouldered Bothan slid open the pannel, demanding answers. Diva lost a few half chewed bits of meat as she did her best desperat plea through her unfinished lunch.

Those chumps over there are illegally docked, and they keep barking all sorts of crazy threats!

He took a step forward and stuck his furry neck out to investigate, much to his misfortune.

What? where....

He turned to question the tall plum colored stranger who had forced him to abandon his Holo Drama's, only to find she had ducked under his arm, and more shocking, had a firm handful of hair in her hand. With a firm yank, his head reeled backwards while her left smacked the control pannel on the inside. The door zipped shut, and slammed the furry elf's skull into the doorframe. It immediately recoiled with a buzzing sound, but shut again at her command once she cleared the unconcious bothan from its path... Ah...gotta love these older installations, non of the boring up-todate safety feautres of the core. Peeking out the small viewing window in the door to check on her competitors, she drew pistols and started strolling down the hall with a little skip in her step. She could smell those credits now...had to enjoy these under the radar jobs while she still could.

 

[Darasuum]

the female looked at Andrea for a moment but soon changed her view to the ship that the young girl and her apparent crew came from. in a moment, and only a single moment she processed a number of subjects. first she analyzed the various individuals and their emotional state based on pheromones, body language, heat and pupil dilation. second she thought most particularly towards the Alabaster escort frigate that the majority of the group had come from. she picked up on the arkanian male coming from his own vessel of similar design though he seemed to be preoccupied and "zoned-out" as most more colloquially adept individuals would describe the man.

W3SK did not see any point in lying and she had not observed its use enough to be able to do it fluently herself. at best she had managed to not tell the whole truth but it would still be the truth nonetheless. the zeltron seemed to be in a state of emotional distress but nothing of immediate concern. her attention had only been gone from the woman that had responded to her own query. now she responded with a simple though thorough explanation. it was not automated or robotic in its vocalization, more well spoken in that manner than anything else.

"I wanted to study the engineering of this facility. But it seems to be inefficient and a poor representation. I've become...bored with this planet. Are you open to passengers on board your vessel?"

 

[Galavant]

Andrena just rolled her eyes at Dyson.

"Sure," Was all she said.

Andrena was never one for words, and wasn't exactly sure what to say in this instance, it wasn't like she was his boss or something. Or was she? It was all very complicated, and she generally had no interest in bossing people around. Not that she could do that to anyone in this group even if she wanted to. Smuggerl's were gonna smuggler regardless of what she said.

Andrena shrugged,"Sure but we've got some business to take care of first."

Why not? She already had about a half dozen people on board, what was the harm in adding one more? First though it was time to actually head into the facility. Still following Dana, she head towards the exit of the docking bay, and into the interior. Unfortunately for them there were a few guards blocking there way. It looked as though rather than come out and tell them that the couldn't park there, they'd decided to wait in the interior corridor from their docking bay, where they could just straight up blast them as they tried to head inwards.

Moving quickly to side of the door before she got shot, Andrena peeked her head around the corner before pulling it back. She hoped no one else had been shot, it'd really suck to have to take on all those guards alone. She'd seen about three or four, but couldn't make any details out, what with the being shot at and all.

"This isn't very friendy!" She yelled at them, wondering what the hell they were supposed to do now. She hadn't brought any grenades.

"Did anyone bring grenades or something?" She asked her comrades. The blaster fire coming out of the corridor didn't cease, which was very annoying whilst she was trying to hold a conversation.

 

[Halcyon]

The Arkanian Offshoot went strolling after Andrena and Dana, what with ladies first and all that Jazz. He motioned with his hand for the new "girl" to follow them. She just became part of Andrena's crew after all, but Nova was simply curious about her - he had seen a good number of people who looked like droids lately, this was the first time he saw a droid who looked like a human. Nova was almost certain that that was the case, seeing as he was used to it and, by now, easily able to distinguish the life force of a biological entity from that of a sentient apparatus.

Assuming she was indeed one, he understood that there might be a reason for the pretty ginger to not reveal herself as a droid right away. He decided it was not his right to challenge her decision, not at the moment anyway, since she did not seem to pose as a threat.

The guys shooting at them from the other side of the door, however, did.

A few blaster bolts pierced the air and Nova almost instinctively reached for his lightsaber; the shots seemed a bit random and not aimed at anyone or anything in particular, so he hesitated and decided to run for cover instead. He joined Andrena at her side.

"Well, I don't carry them with me," Nova said in reply to Solus' question regarding the availability of hand grenades. "But I do have... something."

They were pinned down, or so it seemed. While a grenade would indeed be a good solution for their problem, they were unnecessarily messy. Nova looked around; he noticed an abandoned and small booth - where some kind of meat on a stick was being sold just moments before - close to where they were.

Were those things just everywhere around the station?

The Offshoot did not sense any particular malevolent intend emanating from those entrenched along the corridor. The guards were probably just as anxious and jittery as that one Dug who ran away the moment he heard the first blaster shots and left his food stand behind. Also, they were obviously civilians inside the station. Who knew what kind of damage a grenade would cause, and who it might injure?

"Man, how can he even run like that?" Nova asked himself out loud, impressed by the athleticism of the creature despite his unorthodox gait. He shook his head as if to focus on the task at hand.

That moment, while watching the alien run, he made up his mind. The Force sensitive stretched out his hand and, bending his fingers forward as if clutching something with it, reached for the structure that the alien had left unattended. With the wail of metal crushing between his telekinetic grip he lifted it in the air, turning the whole structure into a semi-spherical object dripping meat and hot sauce. Multi-colored condiments flew everywhere, as the structure was being hauled through the air.

With a jerk of the arm towards himself, Starcry caused the object to accelerate and be launched across the open door and through the large corridor, impervious to blasters.

A series of thundering bangs and several earsplitting cries of pain from within the corridor ensued. Certainly not as bad as grenade, the smuggler thought, but still louder than what he had anticipated.

"Well," he shrugged, "does that count as something?"

 

[Dana Hunt]

At the front of the group, Dana was just meters away from the entrance when their approach was halted by a strange redheaded human girl, asking if they were employyes here at the facility. Rather dead than working for someone, she though. She was about to pretend she spoke a strange alien dialect to avoid engaging the girl in conversation, but before she could Andrena began answering her question. "Great, let's make friends. 'Cause that's totally what we need right now, ain't it?" she said in an annoyed tone. As she crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the floor, she thought of something. Why didn't the girl smell? People, particularily in this part of the galaxy tended to produce a smell. Sometimes of alcohol, sometimes of plain nastiness, and sometimes of trandoshani flatcakes, but none of those where present in the redhead standing before them. She thought this was strange, but decided to not think about it too much. She must use one hell of a deodorant.

As Dyson excused himself, she noticed her pointy eared accomplice moving his hands to his weapons. Does he know something we don't?
Bah. She was probably just being paranoid, like always. Not that she didn't have good reasons to be, but still... The best she could do was dedicate him a confused frown. Consumed in her thoughts, she paid little attention to Andrena's conversation with the girl, and turned to them just as they finished. Before the redhead could potentially speak agian, Dana chimed in.

"Look, we would looove to stay and chat, but like my friend said, we are kind of in a hurry. So I suggest you make yourself useful or make yourself scarce." and with this, she grabbed the redehad by one shoulder and moved her to one side. Not aggresively but firmly nontheless. Continuing towards the facility, she was the first to enter, hopefully followed by the others. As she entered, she noticed one of the lights flicking, which drew her attention, causing her to momentarily look at the ceiling. Was this place having power issues, or was that particular light malfunctioning? Weird.

As soon as she looked back to the hallway ahead of them, she saw a group of armed people of various sizes and species blocking their way. "Why are they pointing their guns at us?" she asked out loud as she pointed towards them. Her question was promptly answered by a volley of blaster fire, which caused her to instinctively duck out of the way to the opposite side to where Andrena and Nova where hiding. She didn't really like the idea of travelling with one of those crazy force users, but maybe he would prove useful after all. As she moved her arm to reach for one of her blasters she felt a familiar burning sensation in her lef shoulder. Looking at it, her shirt was ripped and a prominent bloody hole was present. It appeared she had been shot. Funny, she didn't even feel it until she saw it. "Ahh, shit! Not again!" she said more out of annoyance than anything, considering she didn't even feel any pain.

She tried firing her blasters, but the seemingly never-ending barrage of fire caused her to jerk back to her cover. She was about to speak up when he noticed the elf-guy doing something weird with his fingers. Well, I guess some people are utterly hopeless, she thought. She then realized he probably was using some strange force thing to save them. A noble sentiment, but he might as well save them as destroy the entire planet, if Dana knew anything about the mysterious power the Jedi and others used. Suddenly, a food cart selling kabobs or whatever they were called began levitating. The cart flew through the air as it's Dug owner scurried away at a surprising speed. At an equally surprising speed, the cart missiled through the open door and crashed with a tremendous sound at what she assumed where the armed men. The screams of pain that followed confirmed Dana's assumption. Unfortunately, Dana made the mistake of peeking her head towards the corridor as the food cart crashed at their shooters, and she promptly caught a handful of a strange sauce right in her face. Such was her luck...

"Well, does that count as something?" the Nova dude asked. "Not exactly the word I'd use to describe it,"- Dana answered while wiping the sour tasting substance from her face, "but I think the way in is as clear as it can be now. We should get moving." She finished as she wrapped a piece of cloth to around her shoulder.

 

[Darasuum]

W3SK stood by and watched the female that had addressed her primarily as she walked away confirming that she would be able to join the group after they took care of some buisness elsewhere in the facility. one of the females who W3SK classified as being attractive amongst the near-humans or at least in the present healthy standards of desirability took her and moved her off to one side as if to symbolically show the red headed female that she was to stay apart from the rest of her group.

apparently she was not immediately welcomed into the group nor should she have expected such a reaction since it was only natural for those that did not know to the fullest extent what was previously unknown to them only moments ago. but W3SK did not take offense. She had a greater processing and perception than most individuals and as such was able to deduce a greater amount of information regarding an individual and experience their presence in a different way. these individuals no doubt processed such information over time and had to build 'trust' as she had come to learn. She had received some extent of this feeling with the captain she had previously served on.

the views and looks she was receiving did not go unnoticed. as far as she knew she was one of a kind and that thought made her feel something. lonely, sad, she was not sure. it was a feeling in her chest where a few kyber crystals resided as well as in her head but her artificial heart was not acting up. all the same she looked down at her body to see if something was visible and she momentarily ran a quick diagnostics but stopped before it was finished. she had learned that she did have some kind of emotional capacity, whether it would develop over time or if it was a deficiency she was not sure. even though W3SK had answered a great deal of her own curiosity there were still many great questions that nagged at her.

but she turned from inward contemplation and processes to the immediate sound of weapons being discharged. she saw a number of the group had drawn defensive positions against the incoming blaster fire only for a moment to go by and the arkanian male used his skill in what W3SK took for a representation of the force. perhaps he had tried to sense her earlier but she had not felt it. perhaps since the force presence she had was only represented by the kyber crystals inside of her body did he sense little if nothing at all. in addition he would only sense a presence but not be able to read any emotional state or thought process as far as she could deduce.

 

[Diva]

Don't... *pew* hey! *pew* WHAT DID I JUST SAY! *pew pew pew pew pew*

What was supposed to be an easy walk up, now had Diva pinned down behind a cubicle in the administrative offices. Apparently something was happening at a docking bay that warrented a high alert and now this was happening. Diva had a good guess of who to blame. She caught a whimpering accountant under her foot as he tried to scamper by.

How many?

Oh no no no, Lord please no, I have a family...

That wasn't the question boot licker..

2! 2!.. no 3! 3! I swear, please don't kill me...

*pew*

She stunned him. He was safer on the ground where he was. Wimp. So 3 guys? She had left 4 down behind her, so, made sense. At least two of them had carbines, that was for sure. Diva had those two pretty cleary placed on the other side of the room, but the third must have a blaster, which explained why she couldn't her him through the automatic fire of his pals. Diva set one of her pistols down and plucked a smoke grenade from her belt. The Carbines were circling, andwhen she saw plasma cliping the ends of her litte office station she let the grenade fly toward the goon on her left. Scooping her second blaster back up, she then vaulted over the cubicle wall picking off the man on the right as she came down into an adjacent workstation. Smoke and panic was filling the left side of the room and rapid blaster fire was stilll being leveled in her general direction. Staying low, she began to snake her way through the labrynth of desks. Surprise! Diva nearly stumbled into the unkown pistol weilding lackey as they both rounded a corner. He was disspointingly slow on the draw. Once the last thug ran out of the smoke blind firing his carbine like a ninny, it was over.

Diva did a quick sweep of the room, reloaded, slung both carbines over her shoulder, and smashed that piece of junk pistol; then headed straight for Darfus' door, announcing herself with two shots fired into it.

DARFUS! I want this to be easy so hands up when this door opens...

Obviously he would not cooperate, so she sat crosslegged on the floor and shot the control pannel. Before his first shot had passed well over her head, Diva had shot his blaster clear off his grubby little hand.

Proud of yourself?

What sort of Jedi are you people?

His voice was shrill, obviously terrified. "Jedi"? Diva kept him pinned to is chair, arms up as she approached.

What the kriff are yo....Oh...

The rear wall of Darfus' office was a giant window facing the depot commons, but something was misplaced. The kebob stand was now a small ball of scrap, had moved about a dozen meters toward a docking bay, and she could swear there were litte legs poking out from under it. So the smugglers brought some muscle, eh? Well sithspit....

Alright, listen idiot... I'm here to take you alive...preferably, those chumps have a score to settle...Pick a side.

Diva tossed a pair of stun cuffs on the desk. He put them on.

Good boy...now turn over your books, empty your safe, and lets go... this might suck.

Today was supposed to be a nice day...

 

[Insoulent]

To be completely honest, the thief smuggler had no intention of being shot at, despite what Adrena might of wanted. As the coalition of smugglers all converged on their path into the facility, Elohim diverted off to the nearby kebab sales-dug, no doubt seeing the rest of the smugglers preparing their attack on the facility. Within the burst of a few seconds, the witty banter turned into guns blazing fighting and Elohim needed to find another way in, one where there wouldn't be so much shooting.

Though as he made his way around, he could see the dug kebab seller rush to the muddy hills behind his stand. The human paced behind him, trying his best to catch up to the rushing dug. "What are we running from!?" he shouted behind the dug, as the blaster fire began to get more intense. "Shut up, get away from me!" the oddly (at least in comparison to a human being) proportioned dug. Though in all honesty, the dug had little trouble navigating through the mud. Still, Elohim had spent his entire childhood in the swamp lands of Taris' lowest underbelly for much of his young life, so the mud to him, was like being back at home. It was fun. As the dug reached the top of the hill, Elohim cheerfully sat ontop of the hill, some feet away from the hiding dug. "This'll a good spot to watch from." the human said, trying to pull the dug's attention. The dug peeked over to see his cart get lifted and hurled into the facility, broken in tiny little pieces, and glomps of different foodstuff. "My kebabs!" the dug shouted helplessly, reaching out into the air as if he was trying to use the Force to repair it back to it's normal state. The human thief turned his head back to look at the cart as it still laid on the ground, broken. "Well, in all honesty, it was a shitty cart." the human professed, using his hand to cover the light from his eyes as he peered over to the rest of the smuggler's fighting.

The dug angrily launched himself at the human, tackling the human onto the ground and rolling down the hill with him. It used it's feet to latch onto the human's rib cage, while his arms tried to reach out to wrap around the human's neck. "Ack! ugh!" the human struggled to take control of the dug's arms at the two rolled down the hill. "Back off!" the human shouted as the two came to a stop finally, using his arms to toss the dug off of his body. Getting up, he slid some of the mud off his jacket, slapping the dug on the face. "The Hell's your problem!?" the human questioned, as the smugglers no doubt continued their siege on the compound. "Frack off, you drukan!" the frustrated tone of the dug shouted. "Hey, you gotta help me. I had a good eye over my friends, now who's gonna watch their backs?!" the human said slightly irritated. "Help you", the dug's tone rising in anger, his gaze widening and intensifying on the human. "Your friends destroyed my life!" he let out in desperation.

"Oh." the human said as he scratched the top of his head. "Well, I'm sorry. Well, now we can make you a new life." he continued, pulling the electro staff from behind his back. "Help us." the human continued. "What the frack are you going on about, your friends are gonna die!" the dug said as the firefight continued on behind them. "Nah, they're pretty tough crowd. Come on, you're gonna help me. Besides they're gonna blame you for having your cart randomly on this place on the day smugglers happened to attack, doubt they won't be suspicious about that." the human said confidentially, turning his head over to the landing ports. "That ship over there, it looks like it has a lot of firepower. Let's take it, after that we can pay for a nice new cart." the human said, pointing over to the patrol craft on one of the landing docks opposite of the smuggler's, which simply happened to be much closer and easier to maneuver than the bulkier frigates the smugglers brought along with them. A wide and mischievous grin grew on his face at the prospect of taking the nice looking ship, "You're out of your idiotic, simple-headed mind if you think I'm helping you." the dug said in resistance to stand his ground in defiance. While the human sprinted away, a stray blaster bolt whizzed behind the dug's head, narrowly missing him from a deadly (and wild)headshot. "H-hey, wait up!" the dug shifted his original stance, taking his queue to follow behind the human.

@Diva Tumi