A Tibanna For Your Thought

[Kasra Priest]

B E S P I N​

CLOUD CITY​

​

Installation Ren was one of the few refinery platforms in business after the fall of the First Order.

Back then it was a schutta and a half to get a proper permit. Imperials loved their bureaucracy, after all. Humanocentric, red tape, regulations and the sort. It wasn't a good time for the Ugnaughts, or anyone else really. Imperials always specialized in the democratic unhappiness. Which meant spreading it along to as many people as possible.

That was done now though. Lizards wrecked them first. Then other elements started pushing against the xenos. Here in the Unknown Regions there was always someone hunting something.

Ren was opened not long after that. An enterprising Ugnaught had snatched up an inactive Imperial facility. Once a whole tribe of them settles down, what was there really to say to a dozen blaster barrels aimed at you? For a while things had been great. The gas started running again. People got paid. The natural order was restored. The one where commerce mattered. Not who had the bigger stamp on their paper, you know?

Until a bigger boy came 'round anyway.

Priest was a bit sketch on the details. Maintenance droids suddenly engaging and massacring anything in their path? The Ugnaught merchant didn't know what happened. His bulletin on the cantina board was pretty clear though.

Anyone who could deactivate the droids and bring control back over to him?

Richly rewarded- hundreds of credits, a custom maintenance droid (...the same one?), his first daughter... who he could keep, but after Terminus the credits sounded great to Kasra. So, now he was sitting on a ledge opposite of the facility. It was quiet on the outside. The gas had stopped flowing again.

That didn't bode too well.

On the other hand? Not much to lose and the Sneakthief on his hand was supposed to be top-of-the-line. The Rodian in the alley was a touch sketchy, but it seemed to be working fine.

For now, anyway.

Time to get to work. I guess. I hope the Ugnaught writes an obituary if I don't make it back though. Something like: He Was Very Brave, when he stupidly sneaked to his death. Kasra slid into the alley, peering around the shadows. There should be a maintenance shaft at the end there.

All that trash wasn't really helpful though.

[member="Leila Spar"] | [member="Jair Ordo"] | [member="Mar Kerser"]​

 

[Akash Guul]

BESPIN,
CLOUD CITY

Droidmageddon.

Jair swore he had read a holobook by that name where a rogue droideka lit an uprising within the Confederacy and took it over. The holobook was allegedly a best seller in the Old Republic era until the sequel where the rogue droideka led Confederacy wiped out the Republic. Apparently some chancellor banned the second book due to it affecting trooper morale. Or so he heard.

The job vaguely reminded him of that holobook but the fact it were maintenance droids rather than droidekas explained the lower remuneration. Ordo had snuck through another maintenance shaft with his pistol drawn as he made his way in the eerie silence. He ceased his movement when he heard the ominous sound of clanking on the steel floor ahead. The Mandalorian aimed at the corner ahead and the moment he saw the maintenance droid - a tripod similar to a spider manifested in a nightmare - he fired a quick salvo of blaster bolts at it. Shields lit up soaking the bolts and Droidmageddon came to reality.

"What the actual feth?" Jair stopped firing and just entering a staring contest with the maintenance droid. "Why the hell does a maintenance droid have a shield?!"

The droid beeped cutely.

"Oh, okay, that makes sense. Tibanna gas is volatile."

The droid whistled cutely.

"Yeah, very volatile."

The droid beeped sweetly.

"Huh? What do you mean organics are not worthy of working with Tibanna gas?"

The droid's optics lit red.

"No, no, no, look-" Ordo pointed at his buy'ce. "Not organic. Totally. I don't even have a certificate. Listen, I am a heap of metal junk. This is not even beskar. Except these. I am as unorganic as they come."

The droid beeped...laconically?

"Liste-"

One of its spider legs went up and an apocalypse of blaster fire rained down on Jair who after taking a hit glued himself to the wall.

"Of course the maintenance droid has a heavy repeating blaster. Why wouldn't it? Tibanna gas is fething volatile, after all." the Mandalorian muttered to himself but the sound of blaster fire drowned the words. He thought about using the pulse canon long rifle on his back but he doubted it he could line up a good shot from his position and under this endless blaster fire from the Priest of the Tibanna. Jair looked around and found something that looked like he could fit in but it also reminded him of a trash pipe. He had no clue what it is, to be fair but staying here was out of the question.

Jair jumped out of cover rushing towards that pipe on the opposite side, he raised his vambrace at the droid with the Mandalorian energy shield coming to life from it. It deflected a couple of bolts saving the bounty hunter as he lunged into the rabbit hole and he was now sliding to destination unknown. If this thing led to the actual surface of Bespin this would be his last and longest ride in his life.

It didn't.

It spat him out into a massive vertical shaft dotted with lights all across it. He looked up and barely could see the end of the shaft which was formed like a wide cylinder. There was no way he could walk upwards, not unless he could walk side ways. He looked down the curved shaft and realized he was stuck. One step into the steepest parts of this slope and he was on to another ride to a place unknown.

Jair wasn't keen on finding out.

"Great."

He holstered his pistol and before he knew it a torrent of vacuum sucked him upwards like a rag doll.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat theeeeeeeeeeeeeee kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark..." his voice rang out probably across all of Cloud City. The fast ascent upwards revealed to him that the final point upward was an enormous turbine that would dice him ready to be cooked as meatballs. He also noticed a platform and with all his strength against the torrent fired his fibercord whip at it. By the forces of the writer, the whip hooked itself around a control terminal at the platform and he reversed the mechanism of his whip pulling him onto the platform to safety just as the torrent of overpowered wind ended.

Jair found himself sitting on his backside comprehending what just had happened. He found a door at the end of the platform and rushed towards it.

[member="Kasra Priest"] [member="Leila Spar"] [member="Mar Kerser"]​

 

[Elani Demaris]

B E S P I N​

C L O U D . C I T Y​

[member="Kasra Priest"] | [member="Jair Ordo"] | [member="Leila Spar"]​

Skreeeyiiitch.

A set of white, sharply pointed canines flashed in the dim-light of the access tunnel as the Mandalorian caught her pauldron on an errant section of piping. No doubt causing yet another gouge in her armour’s already weathered and battered lacquer to appear. The third in as many minutes, countless within the last hour. All of which spent trying to belly crawl and weave her way through the labyrinthine maze of tubes, conduits and maintenance shafts that dominated Cloud City’s hidden network of refineries.

Droids.

Tt. Hardly the most befitting quarry for a hunter of her caliber, but beggars could ill afford to be choosers in the current underworld economy. Jobs were increasingly few and far between as of late. With most of those going to hunters with a higher standing with the Guild, the rest were forced to fight over what few scraps remained just to make ends meet, with pride becoming a luxury few could afford. Credits were credits at the end of the day. Even those acquired through undignified jobs spent just as well as the next.

That knowledge did little to soothe the growing tempest that seethed beneath her otherwise placid surface, however. Her jaw knotting with every increasing frustration as she half-tugged, half pushed her way through yet another intersection with a little more urgency. Spurred forward by the raucous sounds of blaster fire and girlish screaming echoing through the bowels of refinery. It appeared someone was having a little more luck - or perhaps even less? - than she was in tracking the surprisingly elusive quarry.

As if on cue, there was a flurry of movement up ahead. A rush of movement in the seemingly long, languid shadows cast by the dull lighting. A droid or a fellow hunter? Tt. Her hand strayed towards the knife strapped against her breastplate, the phrik blade barely making a whisper as it slid smoothly free from its sheath as she resolved to find out one way or another. Body tensing like a coiled snake as she crept the last few feet, lip curling in a silent predatory growl as she exploded forward, letting the blade carve a silvery trail for her to follow.

 

[Koushou Mito]

"Look if I wanted his daughter I'd just take her out to dinner, putting that down, in print, is WEIRD and you can't convince me otherwise."

The mouse droid tittered.

"No I don't care what's normal in a culture NONE of the people involved with are part of, but thanks for playing."

Ma-ma-MABAMP

Leila sighed and shook her head before her finger swiped down on the hologram floating over the cuff on her wrist, deactivating it. This was small potatoes but if she was being honest she liked it that way. A small job here, a smaller one there. Just enough to send a bit home and keep things in working order.

She didn't know where Bantam had come from, but it had been with her for about a year. She fully expected at some point for the droid to disappear again, based on hints she'd gotten from it over that time, but whenever that was, well, it would be what it would be. For now, she had an unaccountably snarky mouse droid that followed her around and occasionally whipped out tools she didn't know how it had room for in its casing but lo and behold.

"So, what are the chances that whatever is going on, is done remotely and you are going to come motoring at me with your little welding torch to scorch my ankles?"

Be-boop

"Oh, that high huh?" Her face scrunched up slightly. "Look, I know better than to tell you what to do, cause you ain't gonna do it, but can I ask you a favor? That you'll just.... stay in the ship?"

Blat

"That's what I thought."

If she was smart, she'd ignore the posting. Get a drink while she was here, check in another couple hours, and if nothing else popped up? Head out. Go elsewhere. Terminus wasn't far and there was always work to be had there.

No one had ever accused Leila of being particularly brilliant however.

****

"Alright, I got you to a terminal. Just, be quick cause- just be quick okay?"

Leila turned her back to the droid after she boosted it up onto the shelf- Bantam was too small to reach on its own. She leaned, casual like, back. An exploratory whistle that ended a moment later when she realized it was absolutely drawing more attention than not making any noise. Holosdramas were liars.

She'd always wanted a chance to try it but now, phsh.

They were settled at the end of an ally, next to a maintenance shaft. Already enough out of the way that most people weren't paying any attention and this absolutely wasn't helping.

Instead she stretched, armor creaking slightly- old, scarred and well repaired but worn beyond what a single lifetime could have collected.

"Anything yet?"

BLAT

"Okay okay, geez."

[member="Mar Kerser"] [member="Jair Ordo"] [member="Kasra Priest"]

 

[Kasra Priest]

[member="Leila Spar"] | [member="Jair Ordo"] | [member="Mar Kerser"]

He passed a smaller vent shaft.

Pausing there briefly, head tilted to the side.

Did someone just scream really high-pitched and theatrically? Like an echo to a comedy skit? Shaking his head there. No, that must have been his imagination. This job was already karking with him and he hadn't actually started it yet. A daughter for a foundry? Who actually offers chit like that? Sure, it was a cultural thing, but even THEN come on.

"Maybe ... the Foreman will take a HoloNet mail claim and a picture ... " Murmured to himself as he starts walking again. That way he wouldn't have to face the daughter and decline her too.

Would that be an insult?

A blink there suddenly, because the alleyway wasn't empty like Vasra had assumed. A woman, armored and dangerous. Next to her a smol mouse droid ... which seemed to be working on the maintenance shaft. The same one Kasra had been going for. A sigh there. The bounty had just been cut in half. "Let me guess - from the inconspicuous whistling and the I am just vacationing here-posture, you are also here for this bounty?" A thumb pointing at the foundry next to them.

This time they most definitely heard something echoing from the shaft.

Blaster fire.

His eyes going there for a moment. "Oh great, some are already inside." Hand running through his hair as he thought about it for a moment. "Okay, look. We can split the reward. But neither one of us is getting it, if we kill each other here in the alley- while whoever is in there runs off with the prize, aye?"

It was almost as if fate itself was giving them the nod. Because once Leila nodded? Her mouse droid suddenly beepbooptwaaaaaaang?'ed at her. The grate over the shaft popped open. Their path was clear. A huh there, but going with it rather easily. "Nice job, buddy!" Which finally pulled the droid's attention to him. It whee-wooo-beop'ed at him and the sheer intensity raised his eyebrows up high.

"Oh wow, that's kinda rude."

Starting to climb into the shaft with the droid beeping at him even more.

"Well, you aren't such a sunshine either, you know?"

---

"So, what's your name anyway?" Over his shoulder as they reached a junction that was shielded. Red humming gatekeeping chit. It would have been too easy otherwise, of course. "No, it's fine." To the droid this time. There was no console in sight and the mouse had started to whir annoyed. His own hand pressed against the casing next to them. Yes, the hand with the Sneakthief on it. It didn't take long, before the power-lines behind it were found. An audible hmm... there.... and then Kasra switched the power funneling around.

A moment later the gate faded out of existence.

Which elicited a yay on his part and a dismissive beep-boop from the droid. "Oh, please, you are totally impressed."

Unbeknownstly to them? Kisra had just switched the power from the field to something else. An old Imperial-grade auto-turret network. It had been disabled by the Ugnaughts. The Foreman was a notorious cheapskate though. So, instead of ripping them out, he had just cut their power. Now? Now... well... they didn't notice, Jair didn't notice either (busy screaming like a comedy skit), but someone else did.

Mar Kerser, specifically.

A turret just popped out of the wall a few meters in front of her.

Red light.

Never a good sight.

 

[Akash Guul]

The door led him to a long and corridor surrounded by doors and with hardly any light throwing jetblack shadows at the sides. He tried activating the buy'ce's night vision but nothing happened.

Great, it's glitching again. I really need to stop saving so much.

Jair carried on with his blaster pistol aiming forward and his other hand smacking his helmet like a standard ooga booga caveman. The smacks were a bit too loud for comfort. Eventually, the hand won the duel and the night vision came to life just as someone rushed him knocking and pinning him at the wall of the corridor and startling the chit out of him. He tried aiming his blaster but his hand was already locked at the wall professionally.

Ordo was about to knee strike the assailant but the recognizable chest plates of a 'gam stopped him.

"E chu ta, Mando!"

But the conversation with the newfound Mandalorian couldn't really go on further as a sleek mechanical sound a few meters ahead of them materialized a top notch looking auto-turret. The nasty kind. Imperial business kind.

Instinctively, with no other choice, considering his situation, Jair activated through eye movements the energy shield of his Mandalorian brace to try and give them both a few more moments before the impending disintegration.

"Where the hell is your gun?!"

WHO THE HELL COMES WITH A KNIFE?

[member="Kasra Priest"] [member="Leila Spar"] [member="Mar Kerser"]​

 

[Elani Demaris]

[member="Jair Ordo"] | [member="Kasra Priest"] | [member="Leila Spar"]​

As Mar slammed bodily into her target, she was forced to admit that this was not quite the quarry she had been expecting. Not that it stopped her from pinning it against the wall. Blade instinctively pressing up against the folds that separated chest plates of beskar’gam. It seemed that little pig of an Ugnaught merchant had neglected to mention that there were other hunters on the assignment.

Tt.

Ally or competition? Did it really matter? They were Mandalorian from all appearances, but with no recognizable clan sigil that she could see. Certainly not Aliit Kerser, that was for sure. That alone was enough to feed the impulse to press the knife further; to slip it between the vulnerable joints that so many overlooked. Finally put an end to that stupid and idealistic myth that Mandalorians didn't kill one another - as if everyone was willing to turn a blind eye to the entire history of their people. It would have been a quick, simple affair from where she stood. Press, twist, pull. She could've been halfway back through that access tunnel before the body even began to cool.

The less pieces on the board, the greater her share of the bounty.

Her hand tightened around the hilt of the knife, her teeth bearing in anticipation for a kill that would never arrive. The sound of an automated turret pulling her away from carving the man open like a cheap Taungsday turkey at the very last second. Sloppy. Her time slogging it through the access tunnels had made her impatient. Eager for the rush of battle. She should've checked her surroundings more; missing a turret like that was a rookie, stupid and frankly galling mistake. Made all the worse by the fact that this fool of a beskar laden di'kut was going so far as to save his would be killer.

She snorted and the blade retreated from the man's neck, relinquishing the full body press to take a half-step back. Her arm whipping like a kodashi viper to send the shiv hurtling into the turret's sensor optic. The preternaturally sharpened weapon forced to accept the consolation prize of cold steel and wires instead of her preferred target. The blade sinking home with a shower of sparks and a high-pitched squeal as the turret was abruptly dispatched.

A rare look of self-satisfaction blossoming across her cheeks, culminating in a decidedly smug and pointed ‘who needs a gun?’ glance at the man she was still holding against the wall before it was schooled back to something a little more neutral.

“...” With an obvious degree of reluctance, she took another step back - and then another handful until she was backed up against the opposing wall. Allowing the Mandalorian a little more room to breathe. One ill-advised good turn deserved another, she supposed. Let it be known that Aliit Kerser were not an entirely ungrateful lot.

First things first, however.

‘Fifty, fifty.’ She signed bluntly, the Mando’a equivalent of sign language not really lending itself well to complicated or flowery communication. Introductions could wait, credits were what was truly important. ‘Deal. Take. Leave. Now.’