Catching A Break

[Tobias Wraith]

Hypori​

Docking Bay 678-B​

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Echoes could be heard, as durasteel hit durasteel. The sonic servodriver was a wonderful tool, used for scanning and unlocking many things. This particular model had been in Tobias' possession for nearly four years, all after he had left his former job. Well, that's a way of looking at it, he thought to himself as he continued to hammer away with the scanning tool. Whatever was causing The Jackdaw to not perform properly while throttling up to go to hyperspace was becoming annoying. It wasn't ideal being right in the heart of Confederate territory, given the increased police forces he was starting to see everywhere. A'guy can't even catch a break and get a good drink around these parts anymore. Thoughts of bars he couldn't visit while on world crossed his mind, but he instead focused on getting to work.

A freighter couldn't make money while docked at port, and a smuggler couldn't get his goods off his ship while sitting still either.

Never mind the fact that he couldn't find what was causing the issue, but he had a ton of spice to get off his ship. Stress started to form, and he could feel it in his work. "I've got to take a break." Speaking to no one in general, the rest of the crew on his ship was compromised of droids. Putting his tool back up on his belt, he walked over next to a cooler. Moving his leather jacket, he wiped some sweat off his brow with his shirt after laying his coat on the ground. Opening the cooler, he pulled out a bottle of water and took a sip as he sat down.

I've got a few more hours before they come and inspect the ship, I need to be gone by then. Having a false-transponder was a beautiful thing, but it sure didn't pass the eyeball test.

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

I'd eaten another of those human soups today. They always taste a little juicier than the rest. Not exactly wiser, which would make the soup more delicious, just.... Well, you see, they are always so full of emotions. Practically walking basket cases, the lot of them.

Anyway, apparently that didn't sit too well with the authorities. They weren't sure what to make of a corpse that had had its brains sucked out, but being Hypori's Finest they naturally assumed it was a homicide. This was terribly unfortunate for myself as I happened to have somehow gotten my ship impounded again. Honestly, fortune seems to have it out for me.

So here I was, stranded, with a bunch of security slowly trying to figure out a whodunit. Now, I doubted that I would be fingered for the crime, being the rakishly good-looking and intelligent person that I am, but one could never be too cautious. And my rule for danger always stands. When you see it, run.

I'd wandered into the docking bays to do precisely that, looking for a suitably- what the devil was that fellow doing lying there in the middle of the... My wonderfully green eyes flicked to the ship. Oh my. What a lovely hunk of junk. Yes, this would do nicely.

"Excuse me," I said cheerily with a jaunty grin as I stood over the fellow, "Is that your ship?"

[member="Tobias Ross"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Tobias Ross"] [member="Sasha"]
A similar question died on Ashin's lips, though she hadn't come quite as close as the entirely-too-cheerful Sasha. She slowed her stride, kept her distance. Hypori was no place for a grin, not after millennia of corporate oppression. So far as she knew, the Confederacy let Santhe and the rest work unhindered by anything so crass as regulation, with predictable results for public order. In fact, Hypori's renegade workers had wound up deported to Fringe Confederation territory, and she'd served with more than a few.

An unhealthy world for those that liked freedo, and not one where she felt comfortable carrying her lightsabre. Her sword, she'd bartered on Tatooine for one of the three necklaces she wore beneath this shapeless travel-dress. Her blaster was a good one, a limited edition Hekler'Kok, commemorative of the Sith Empire's fall. Otherwise, so far as weapons went, she had only her gimer stick, more a necessity than proper armament. Granted, she'd used it to good effect against Anaya Fen, Sochi Ru, and others, but those had been the days when she could surround the cane and her body with paranormal protection of the highest order.

Now she was just a woman of early middle age, with a limp and a cane. And a powerful need to get at least a jump or two farther from the Confederate heartland.

With a shrug, she drew closer, leaning on the cane. "If you've got room for passage, son, I've got the means to pay for a short hop to wherever you're bound."

 

[Tobias Wraith]

[member="Sasha"] | [member="Ashin Varanin"]

"Excuse me ,is that your ship?"

Tobias wasn't exactly known for his responsibility, quite frankly he shirked it whenever he could after he had left the military. Years of following orders had led to him to be this way now that he had his freedom. Tired eyes popped open, and he instinctively reached for his Woebringer pistol. Reality came into focus as he sat up, why did I fall asleep, he thought to himself. His heart racing, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he noted how unofficial the man looked. "Well, I'm the pilot of it." Looking back at the Calrissian-Class, he smiled back at the man as he stood up. "This officially belongs to Silk Holdings, I run shipments for them up and down the Mara Corridor." Which, he hoped wouldn't bring up the slew of questions that could be asked. He was far from his shipping route, but that was what you get for being a smuggler, he mused.

"If you've got room for passage, son, I've got the means to pay for a short hop to wherever you're bound."

Everyone is getting the jump on me today it seems, as he spun around. Doing a quick once-over on the woman, he soon realized she wasn't an officer either. His mouth moved a bit as he thought out what they were both asking. The man before him had subtly asked it, while the woman in the cloak had been far more upfront. "I can take you two anywhere along the Mara you may want to go, so long as I get paid." It wasn't a perfect situation, but the door to the Jackdaw was open and waiting for all those would would pay. "I'm Tobias by the way, and you two are?" If he was going to ship them, he may as well know who they were. "Any outstanding warrants or bounties on you two I should know about?" It was a silly question given the fact he had fled Nar Shaddaa a week ago after almost being hunted down himself.

Damn hutts, he thought to himself.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Well now, I hadn't even asked for anything but he'd bundled me right up with the stranger. He wasn't wrong to do so, saved me the trouble.

I gave her the good ol' once over at about the same time as the pilot did. Blaster pistol and a cane. She had a lot more lines around her face so instead of saying thirty I'd be more inclined to guesstimate forty as her age. Didn't strike one as dangerous, but I guess looks can be deceiving. After all, in my simple white, collarless tunic with an unbuttoned placket at the neckline and some long dark brown trousers I didn't strike an intimidating appearance. To them I would look short, human in features, not overly strong looking, and apparently lacking a weapon. Of course, what they didn't know was that I was around a century old and fed by sucking out humanoid brains, but that's neither here nor there.

Still, there was something off about her. She felt different to my senses. I wasn't quite sure what to make of that yet. Unknown quantities are most oft frightening quantities, but it appeared I had little choice. I needed to get off this planet and get a little breathing space, then I could call Trechtus, tell him I screwed up, and get him to fetch my ship. See? I always have a plan.

I brushed a lock of dark hair behind my ear nervously. I smiled my most disarming of disarming smiles, "No warrants here. Pleasure to meet you Tobias, I'm Sasha," I reached my hand forward to shake his, humans tend to do that to display trust or some such nonsense. As if shaking a man's hand will make him anymore trustworthy.

Unfortunately, I had a little problem. You see, I do not have a money tree and because I do not have a money tree I couldn't very well just run around willy-nilly handing out credits. And at the moment I was rather sorely deficient in funds. So, I stretched out with that wonderfully special Anzati telepathy, which seems to be my only ability with that big thing the cults, excuse me, Jedi and Sith Orders like to refer to as the Force. I tugged at the fellow's feelings, dredging up affability and pulling on sensations of trustworthiness all in an effort to make my next few words far, far more convincing than they should otherwise have been.

"I'm a little strapped for credits at the moment, but I'll pay you the moment we land, soon as I can get to a non-Hypori bank."

[member="Tobias Ross"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Tobias Ross"] [member="Sasha"]

"Call me Ori'vod. No bounties that I know of." The name was one she'd used as founder and leader of the Vagrant Fleet -- and one that might have trickled down to a Silk employee, seeing as its founders had been Vagrants. She limped up to the ramp to lean against the familiar hydraulics. The Calrissian-class might be new, expensive, and rare, but it was fundamentally a levelup of the common-as-dirt Washburn-class, and any spacer had at least seen a Washburn.

Something tugged at her senses, just slightly, but she'd never been one for sensitivity. She brushed it off like a fly and compared it with the words. Her conclusion was a definite maybe.

"I can pay two thousand now, plus ten thousand when we hit the Silk Holdings desert starport on Drogheda. If that'll do, anyway. If it'll only get me as far as Dressel, that's fine too."