Kids With Guns

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Well this was a mess.

People on the holonet vastly underplayed how difficult it was to pilot a freighter. Especially when the freighter was weighed down by enough surplus to feed a small town - and a tank with a fish girl inside! Corrin had not dare to wake her up. That would only raise questions, and he was currently riding on his instincts.

Mother was going to kill him.

The freighter set down just outside on of the seedier communities on Concordia. The sky was dark with storm cloud, and the faint pale light of the moon barely shone through the thick blanket in the atmosphere. The town below was surrounded on every side by mountains of barren wilderness.

People only ever came here to gamble and make back room deals. Corrin, who needed to refuel on the down low, had absolutely no idea how to deal with such a place. He had barely managed to snag the freighter during one of his mother's pirating trips. From there, he had relied on his connection to the force as Backow called it. The young man was exceptionally powerful in that aspect, his presence within it being the far vanguard of his approach.

The beat up freighter came to rest on the outskirts of town by three other ships. The primary doors slid open with a crunch, and the almost-adult-sized Corrin dropped down on the gravel.

The humidity hit him like a wall. He drew his cowl over his head, and struggled to steady himself in the uncomfortable air. Rain fell softly on the pavement of the road that led into town. Corrin eyed it suspiciously, shouldered his Verpine Sniper Rifle, and trudged on into the settlement.

He needed fuel. To acquire fuel, he needed credits.

He had a mission. Corrin strolled confidently into town, shoulders back, head held high. He was Mando'ade! Finding some currency shouldn't be too difficult.

[member="Mira Albion"]

 

[Mira Albion]

Condordia, a lush mining moon in the Mandalore system. There was something about it that naturally drew Mira in. Verdant forests, powerful fortresses, impressive mining operations and much more this planet possessed.

The fact it was the first stop on the only freighter she could stow away on also assisted Mira in her 'choice.'

As the massive ore transport flew in towards a small settlement, Mira ceased her attempts to 'see' through the Force and focused just on listening to the sounds of the rain. A torrential downpour in the sky threw itself against the vessel as it approached, but began to thin as the vessel slowed. Or so it sounded like to young Force User.

Instinctively, she reached to rub where just a few days ago, her eyes would have been. She felt her hand's pressure even through her heavily bandaged face. Immediately, Mira clenched her teeth and forced herself to hold in a scream. The instinctive touch sent shockwaves of pain through her head, the wound was not healed and, unbeknownst to her, the bandages sorely needed changing.

Channeling her pain, she reached to the Dark Side of the Force to give her the strength to free herself from the belly of the Freighter. Ripping apart the ship, causing a hull breach, setting off warning lights, and freaking out the two Weequay pilots, Mira dropped down and to the ground below.

Reaching out with the Force once more, she pieced together the environment around her and dashed away from the small landing pad outside the settlement. In her thick white and splattered red tunic, she did not blend well. However, her speed allowed her to easily avoid detection from the pilots.

Once inside the settlement, Mira began to wander around looking for a Doctor. However, in her still weakened state, she ended up only getting herself lost for a solid half hour before 'finding' a local Cantina near the entrance to the settlement. Knowing she'd stick out like a sore thumb, Mira steeled her nerves and walked in just as a young man entered the settlement behind her. She knew not whether or not he had seen her, but she had 'seen' him from afar and from behind.

Inside, Mira immediately felt her courage leave her ad the first set of eyes glances over. Slipping into a small cutout seating area, she took a chair by wall and laid her head down on the table. Hand running through her hair, she released her focus once and, for the moment, left herself alone in 'the dark' that was her vision.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Corrin was a young lad around the age of twelve. Alcohol was forbidden to the heir of the Tal'verda clan, and he privately abhorred it. The boy had been ridiculed more than once for what his comrades perceived as softness. He was a compassionate child, driven out of his concern for others rather than his own glory. He and the seedier parts of society just did not mix.

That did not mean he couldn't exploit those who took part in a good drink. His head lowered to avoid drawing attention, Corrin wandered into the cantina.

He was not an odd site in this sort of place. Most of those here were miners from the quarry nearby, and their ages ranged from early teens to the elderly. There was no age buffer when it came to making a living.

The half-Echani child drew back his cowl, and ran a gloved hand through his short borwn hair. The sharp scent of spice was in the air; mixing with the familiar gloom of whiskey as it drifted toward Corrin's nostrils.

The concoction was enough to make him scrunch his nose in disdain. Gathering himself, he wandered on inside, offering the strange girl a passing glance. She couldn't have been much older than herself, and the red of her bandages caught his gaze.

The sudden concern he felt would pang outward in the force, though his expression was stone cold. He cast his gaze toward one of the tavern's corners, resting on a group of drunken miners blowing their credits on a game of Pazaak. That would work.

He drew in a deep breath, and turned his back on the gamblers. Corrin marched up to the girl with purpose, and came to a halt just a pace away.

He just stared at her. Whatever words he had prepared were lost to him now. The boy blinked.

"Your bandaging is karked." He remarked. "You should get that changed before your eyes get infected." His voice was a low whisper. It cracked here and there, the ravages of preteen life just beginning to affect his body. "Who are you with?"

[member="Mira Albion"]

 

[Mira Albion]

Perhaps, if Mira had been conscious, the boy's reverberating pang though the Force would have been easily caught by her senses. However, as exhaustion and sickness would have it, she had fallen asleep the moment laid her head down. Jolting awake at his first words, Mira lightly shook her head as to not disturb the bandages, avoiding pain.

Not turning to face the voice that spoke, but focusing through the Force and 'eyeing' him up, Mira sighed deeply. As much as she abhorred presenting weakness, she also knew she could not take care of her wounds on her own. Speaking slowly and deliberately, she responded, purposefully ignoring his second question lest she arouse suspicion. She knew not how stowaway were treated, but assumed it could not be well. "I, you're right. Can you assist me for just a moment, I, I can't do it myself anymore."

Clearly, great effort was put into what she said. Mira abhorred weakness, not from any personal belief but from her past where weakness was quite literally beaten out of her whenever it was shown. However, she reasoned, maybe it is necessary to show weakness sometimes in order to correct it and become stronger.

Gritting her teeth, Mira very slowly removed the bandages over her face, revealing her truly sorry state. Her eyes were completely gone, unsalvagable, and where the wound had been cauterizated had begun to develop a powerful infection.

Instinctively, Mira drew upon the Dark Side to give her the strength to speak as oxygen hit her wound and racked her body with pain. Almost growling and in overwhelming agony, she asked, "Well, how bad is it?"

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Corrin silently thanked whatever gods that might exist for their positioning in the tavern. Anywhere else, and someone would have surely would have given alarm to the rest of the cantina.

The first thought that came to the boy's mind was that off the Uxi being chopped into little pieces after a hunt. Skinning the hide was a bloody task, but removing the organs was the absolute worst. The skin around her eyes looked far too similar to those eviscerated corpses.

"It looks infected. You're going to need some sort of medical intention." He replied, worrying his lower lip as he examined the wound.

The boy had only ever held a lightsaber once; a trophy passed down through his family. It was said that the blade was taken from a Jedi Knight after he was killed by one of Corrin's ancestors during the infamous Order Sixty-Six. While he was proud of his heritage - the majority of the Tal'verda being direct descendants of the clone army - he was unsure of how he felt about the grisly trophy. He had only swung it once, and at a tree of all things, but her eyes bore a faint resemblance to the damage those weapons produced.

He did not ask how she'd been hurt. It was none of his business. He did, however, pull up a chair next to her. "There should be a doctor in town, and I'm sure there's someone who can help from wherever you're from." He paused. "Here."

He reached into his belt. The only thing that would be sufficient in covering her wounds was held out to her. It was a long black bandanna that had clearly seen better days. It was his mother's, a keepsake from one of her pirating raids.

"Can you tie it yourself?" He asked quietly, shifting himself about to block keep wandering eyes from viewing this strange girl's face.

[member="Mira Albion"]

 

[Mira Albion]

Mira hesitated, cringing at his words. The more she thought about it, the more naive she knew she was for thinking she could see a doctor in the first place. She was a fugitive, to be perfectly honest, as her father was not friendless and news of his death would eventually reach his acquaintence's ears. A doctor would want to know how she recieved the wounds, a doctor would question her on the status of her legal guardian, a doctor would take away the hard earned saberstaff that hung from her belt behind her.

No, no doctors. Mira knew she needed to handle this herself, somehow. It would heal, her wounds always did. Taking the bandana from the boy, Mira made what she thought was a sneering face and loosely tied the bandana herself. Her face relaxed within moments, however, as she was soon overcome with the crushing sadness of her current predicament.

Ignoring his earlier statements in order to change the subject of their conversation, Mira held out a hand and spoke. Her voice was softer now, the pain subsiding back to its typical pulsating ache. "Thanks. I'm Mira, by the way, I'm not from around here. Who are you? Do you have a ship?"

Instantly, Mira regretted her second statement. She did not want to seem too straight to the point, lest she scare him off and cause the boy to leave her stranded. Though, by this point, Mira had gone so long without conversation that she was simply happy to have someone to talk to, even if they didn't have a ship.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Any reservation Corrin had about the girl evaporated when she offered her hand. There was something about a handshake that set the boy at ease. It was a breaching of the physical boundary: a metaphorical hammer to shatter the social barriers between them. Perhaps it was simply his father's teachings of honor and honesty that put that effect over the boy. It was a personal mystery.

He took her hand in his, and gave it a firm handshake. His hands were encapsulated in thin leather, though she would still feel the warmth of his hands beneath the material. It hinted that he was healthy, at the very least.

"I'm Corrin, and in not from here either. I'm from Mandalore." He shrugged. "Are you stranded?" He asked quietly. A hint of caution laced his words.

That was when he noticed it. He swayed about slightly to the right, and caught sight of the lightsaber staff on her back. He had only ever Sen on other before in person, but he recognized the design.

Jedi.

"I have a ship, but it needs fuel, and...I'm broke." He cracked a small smile, and turned partway toward the tavern. A Jedi girl. He would need to be careful. He should have just left her to her fate, but Corrin's heart was a bit too soft. He couldn't leave the wounded girl to fend for herself.

"I came for credits. These guys are Mando'ade, mostly, and they're drunk. Di'kuts. Easily swindled."

[member="Mira Albion"]

 

[Mira Albion]

He had a ship. Most of what he said, even though Mira continued listening, faded into the background as her thoughts flooded in. If this kid had a ship, he could theoretically take her wherever she wanted to go! The fact that he was broke didn't matter, she knew of a thousand different ways to acquire money. She had seen her father scam people a thousand times over, nothing was new to her.

She did not know exactly the meaning of everything he said, but Mira was smart enough to figure it out. Mando-whatever was probably an ethnicity or people group, Di'kut was probably a curse. Perking up and letting a cruel smile cross her blindfolded face as Corrin finished speaking, she said, "Sounds good, what's your plan of action? I supposed I'd enjoy cards as much as the next blind kid, but I don't think they'll let you in on their game, unless they're really, really drunk."

What Mira was ignorant of was that, in Mandalorian culture, the boy she 'saw' before her would already be nearing his 'manhood.' That, and there existed no gambling or drinking laws on Condordia. This was a Mandalorian world run by honor bound Mandalorians, Corrin possessed the upper hand here.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

"You have that force stuff, so you should at least be able to help me get a better hand." Corrin pointed out, though Mira had never said a word about her affinity for the invisible energy field. Corrin had felt it from her, somewhat, and made note of the fact that a blind girl wouldn't make it very far alone without something like that.

He was adept at what the bathrobe brigade called sensing things. His talents had only manifested there; allowing him to become one with the forests around his village. The resident ex-Jedi Knight in the village, Sharn Backow, had offered to teach him more. Corrin had refused after seeing how his parents felt about the issue.

He was the only child born to the Tal'verda with such a curse. The first, and Manda willing, the very last.

"The thing about Mando'ade is they all think they have big gett'se. If you hurt their ego, they'll retaliate in kind." He motioned toward a particularly intoxicated Weequay dealing a hand. He was massive. His head was bald, and his eyes were tiny black holes drilled into his face. His mining uniform did little to his the sidearm hanging from his hip.

"So a shooting challenge. You can't cheat with that." The boy reached over to poke his companion on the arm, and strode off purposefully toward the Weequay.

The stranger looked up at the approaching human with a baffled expression. His buddies all did the same.

"Whatchu want 'lil boy?"

"I was curious about your weapon. The DL. Do you actually know how to shoot it or is it just for show?"

[member="Mira Albion"]

 

[Mira Albion]

A sly smile slipped past Mira's face and through her pain at Corrin's words, staying for only but a moment before fading away back to her downtrodden face. It was the first she had allowed to grace her features so far, and a small smile it was indeed. The Force was indeed an ability Mira possessed, and a powerful one at that. Unlike most her age, she had been taught from a very young age to embrace her impulses and her abilities, increasing their strength when necessary.

She followed Corrin, listening to his words and inwardly applauding his cunning. A shooting challenge, indeed, there was absolutely no possible way in all existence anyone could ever cheat at that. Mira couldn't help but laugh on the inside, though her facial expression did not change, she found it humorous.

As Corrin goaded the drunken Weequay, Mira reached out to his foggy mind and applied pressure. Feeding him emotions she created, indignance and humiliation, aiding in attempting him to accept the boy's offer to a challenge rather than brushing him off like any logical man should do. If the idiotic being accepted, Mira would quietly follow Corrin and the Weequay outside. She was small, insignificant, and could easily pass for Corrin's much younger sister despite their similar ages.

When and if the shooting competition started, Mira would offer no assistance to Corrin, focusing entirely on the Weequay to cloud his vision. She would not adjust his rifle with the Force, for she knew not whether he could still feel fine through his limbs, despite being drunk. Therefore, she would only increase the effects of the alcohol he had already consumed, making it really his own fault for any misses that occurred in his shooting.

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

The first thing that really brought Corrin back into reality was the squelch of the mud beneath his boots. This was a very stupid plan. What if the Weequay turned his weapon on Corrin if he lost? What if he didn't pay up?!

Too late now.

The young man followed the Weequay outside. His friends trailed behind the two children, snickering about the Mando boy's idiocy. The Weequay himself was deathly quiet, as if he was not entirely there in the head.

They came to a halt just on the edge of town. that wasn't saying much considering the town was comprised of four streets and the size of two city blocks.

"Two shots." He grunted. "See that? Big overturned speeders? They light up when their engines are hit. Just on the underbelly. Whoever hits the most wins." He motioned with a big green hand toward each speeder. They were nestled under a ridge at the base of the nearest mountain, each flipped over by scavengers some time ago.

When Corrin squinted he could just make out the expensive components jutting out from the guts of the speeders.

"Okay....Four hundred credits." He looked up at the Weequay. All of the alien's companions fell silent. The Weequay lofted a ridged brow, snickered, and nodded.

"You and your 'lil sidekick are gonna be working on my ship. Mandalore could use more soldiers. We're exxshpanding!" He waved his hand around, and shouldered his rifle.

The Weequay drew in a deep breath. The weapon rattled once. A beam of crimson energy flew across the wasteland between them and the mountain and promptly crashed into the side of the mountain.

The Weequay grumbled a curse under his breath, and fired again. This one caught a speeder right in the belly. The engine suddenly overloaded, sending sparks everywhere. His companions cheered. The Weequay remained silent.

Intoxicated and addled in the mind by Mira's abilities, the Weequay was running on the habits drilled into him from childhood. He breathed a heavy sigh, and fired his last shot.

The third speeder went up in sparks.

He turned on Corrin, and shoved the rifle into the boy's hands. "Your turn."

Corrin blinked, and glanced over to Mira. He worried his lower lip, and checked the energy pack on the weapon. "Cheer for me 'sidekick'..."

[member="Mira Albion"]

 

[Quill]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]
[member="Mira Albion"]

Oh. She was awake.

The realization came suddenly, and felt almost alien at first. She'd spent the past few weeks in a drugged haze, lazily floating around in the large metal container the slavers had placed her in. Her second prison; the first was glass-walled with metal joists. It took her almost no time at all to chew through a few of the rivets, splashing her way out. The freedom had been short lived, however, since her captors still had a hold of that meddling dart gun. A shot into the soft spots between her scales took her out, but not before she'd managed to saw her teeth through one of their necks.

Her second prison had been much more utilitarian. A solid metal box, with heavy metal reinforcements holding it together. She supposed it usually carried some manner of heavy machinery or perhaps a large animal. There were slats in the lid of it, allowing fresh air through. She would have tried to rend those, but the metal was too thick for her to easily snap through. The angle was difficult as well, forcing her to chew at it with her cheek jammed up against the metal. The only advantage she had in this situation is that the slavers kept the container nearly full of water, which allowed her full strength.

It took them less than a week to realize she had nearly escaped again. Two of the slats were missing; a third was half-way chewed through. Immediately, the slavers drugged her once more. This began the nearly.. .. how long? She had no idea. The routine of slowly rousing, finding dinner floating at the top of the tank, and then slipping back into a swirling, colorful haze had her sense of time addled. No matter. What -was- important now is that she was fully awake and hungry.

The adolescent wrapped her fingers up through the slats, hanging awkwardly from the lid of her prison. Listening quietly for any disturbances outside her tank, she wasted no time biting at the metal that was keeping her in. She only needed this third, thick piece to be gone, and she could wriggle free. Her thick, triangular teeth shaved away at the bars. Thin, corkscrewing peels floated on the surface of the water. Almost.. Almost..!

CLANNNNG. The bar had fallen away, striking the bottom of her tank before her drug-weakened hands could grab it. She stopped cold, listening. No angry voices..? No familiar, drugged dizziness? Impossible. But not impossible enough to make her wait a second longer.

Yellow, webbed hands gripped the outside of the tank, hauling a blue-and-black scaled figure through her new exit. She stopped, observing the abandoned cargo hold. No one there. The Qwohog grabbed a nearby sack-cloth, biting a hole in it for her arms and head, slipping it on. She hated clothing, but perhaps the thick canvas would save her from another dart. The sack sagged to her knees.

Quill was free.

 

[Mira Albion]

[member="Quill"]
[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]


Mira 'watched' through the force with thinly veiled disgust. The Weequay itself was not disgusting, Mira could not see his physical appearance, but she could 'see' his aura through the Force and what she saw made her want to gag while she worked from within his mind. A warrior, to be sure, but one ruled by his passions and lusts. Mira had felt such base passions and lusts before in others, she hated them. Then, unbidden, a thought clawed its way to the surface in her head.

kill him

Snapping her hands up, she took a step back and gripped her head lightly. The thought, it was most certainly her's, but it almost felt like someone else spoke it. The Dark Side surged towards her, and she lost her grip on the Weequay moments before his last shot. The last shot that connected gloriously with the speeder's underside.

Corrin seemed very worried, she could feel it in the Force, and decided to put aside her personal feelings to assist him. Mira could not supplement Corrin if he lacked skill, she could only improve his focus and give him confidence. Whether or not they got what they needed now depended upon Corrin's skill as a warrior, and Mira would do all she could to assist him.

Immediately after the boy spoke, Mira moved in close to him and placed her hands gently on his side and shoulder. Enough to provide physical support, but not enough to throw him off. Through the Force, she reached out to his aura and gave it the same confidence she now held, and unwavering faith in his ability. In addition, she touched his mind as best she could to improve his sight and focus. It would not be clear to anyone, not even Corrin, what she was doing, but to Corrin alone it would be obvious she was attempting to assist him. Leaning in, she whispered, "You can do this."

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

It might have been a good idea to have secured that crate. Corrin knew there was something living within. He'd looked at the manifest to make sure - it was something called a Qwo-something. He knew it was sentient, and humanoid in shape. Eventually it would wake up, or so he thought, and he had opted to leave it be until then. No reason to poke a sleeping bear.

That was coming back to bite him now in a literal sense. The datapad at his side chirped at the sudden disturbance within the ship. The security system would alert him, but it couldn't do anything more than lock the flight controls. This creature had free rein over the freighter.

That though made Corrin's stomach churn, but he couldn't be bothered now. It wasn't like they were going anywhere without fuel anyway, and [member="Rawnie Tal'verda"] was likely aboard, unless she hadn't actually scrambled aboard when he left. That might be troublesome.

The Mando boy blinked twice as Mira took to her techniques. He recognized the subtle shift in the force: the sudden change in the natural way of things.

Corrin took aim.

"It'd be a bit embarrassing if I didn't." He grunted, all too conscious the girl's hands on him. In any other situation, he would have shrugged her off and made a dramatic show of it. Not now.

The rifle coughed as a bolt flew across the wastes. It collided with the speeder, sending up a flurry of sparked. Another produced a similar effect with the speeder at its left.

"Impos-"

The final bolt crashed into the third speeder. Sparks fell across the ground. Corrin drew in a deep breath, and visibly relaxed.

" We win."








[member="Mira Albion"]

[member="Quill"]

 

[Quill]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]
[member="Mira Albion"]

Quill skulked through the cargo hold, trying to ignore her rumbling belly. The hold still seemed disturbingly quiet, leaving the Qwohog to wonder what had happened to them. Not that she held any love for the stupid slavers, but if she was freed and they were gone... There must be a bigger predator on board.

She needed a weapon.

Grabbing a prybar that was left on the floor, the Qwohog girl began popping open the lids to any boxes she could find. This one held grains. That box had some strange electronics in it. Where were the crates with weapons!? One box she popped open held some frozen meat. Well. Couldn't just leave that sitting open. It would go bad. She grabbed a few of the nearest cuts, jamming the crate shut as carefully as she could. Lunch was had atop the crate; Quill quickly scarfed down the meat.

Having some food in her belly helped her think. If no one had come for her by now, then maybe they were all off the ship? She could escape... or she could set a trap for them. Something to make the slavers take her home. Or she could contact authorities! Most ships had communications devices. Grabbing her new friend, The Prybar, Quill set off to find the cockpit.

 

[Mira Albion]

Mira released her hands from Corrin and took a step back. Part of her wanted to scrub after touching him, another wanted to hold him a bit longer. He was warm, and something about his presence was comforting. Stepping away, she focused in on the Weequay through the Force, not turning to face him or anyone in particular. Despite using the Force to 'see,' in a manner of speaking, she had no reason to even turn towards people out of habit. Not being very well socialized, Mira knew little of courtesies, only of silence.

The Weequay hesitated for a moment, unsure of what even he would do. Behind, his mates laughed and exchanged bets they had already placed among themselves, one in particular seemed to be getting the largest sum of credits; clearly he had bet against his odds of winning. Gritting his teeth, the Mandalorian dug into his pocket and withdrew the credit chip. He would not be seen as honorless in front of his mates, even to a kid like this. Holding it out, he remarked through grinding teeth, "Here, take it, don't sshhow yer faces around here again. Have enough embarrassment to deal with as it is."

Mira nodded as the men turned and began walking away, turning towards Corrin as she did so, she needed to show him something. Holding out her hand, she made a mildly odd request. "I'm, tired, would you mind running your finger along me hand in the direction of the nearest landing pad? I'm going to-" Mira paused for a moment, hesitating. She didn't see any reason to hide the truth from him, Corrin had given her something to hide her eyes after all. He deserved the truth, if nothing else, "I'm going to go stow away on another ship, I don't want to stay here. I need to leave, go, somewhere, I don't know."

Where would she go? Once, she dreamed of great fields of grass and frolicking among the fluttering of a thousand butterflies. Yet, such dreams had been dashed along with her eyesight. What place had she in a galaxy she could no longer behold?

[member="Quill"]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]

 

[Rawnie Tal'verda]

Yeah. Rawnie was there on the ship. And she was very bored.
She sat in the pilots seat, feet resting on the dashboard. This was Corrins idea. The idiot. He'd let the ship nearly run out of fuel. Didn't he bother to check? And Rawnie knew she was just as stupid, leaving this up to him. Stay here, he said. I'll get credits for fuel, he said.
The tiny half Echani girl threw a ball against the transparasteel, catching it with one hand when it bounced back. This was something mom played with her when she was around. Said it built up good reflexes. It was practice.

"Two thousand seven hundred sixty two," she mumbled, catching the ball again and throwing it once more before catching it on it;s way back again, "two thousand seven hundred sixty three..."

 

[Corrin Tal'verda]

Little did Corrin know that there was a monster aboard the ship with his little sister. He had meant to secure the cage this beast had been placed in, but the task had slipped his mind. Now Rawnie was alone with whatever had been slumbering within, and that worried him.

He took the credits with a steady hand, and shoved them into his pocket. Just enough to fuel the ship, and perhaps procure breakfast. Freighters like these were especially expensive to fly. He meant to give it to the Tal'verda as a gift and borrow one of the clan's stealth frigates. That would serve his purpose well.

"You helped." He grunted, pulling his Verpine off his shoulder. The lightweight rifle a linked into his hands with a quiet click. "Something is loose on my ship. Maybe you can help there too."

He motioned toward the pavement just outside the decrepit town. The freighted a large boxy ship with two engines jutting between tiny crevices in the back. It was entirely unarmed, and the tinted glass of the cockpit was all that broke up the dirty brown paint that looked as if someone had just splashed it on .

The ship had seen better days.

Corrin pulled back the bolt on his rifle. With practiced efficiency, he jammed what looked like an old metal slug into the weapon. It have an audible click as he closed the firing chamber.

"Okay?" He lofted a brow, already marching off toward the ship. Corrin was a man on a mission, and no one was going to harm his little sister, sea monster or not.

[member="Quill"]

[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]

[member="Mira Albion"]

 

[Quill]

[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]
[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]
[member="Mira Albion"]

There were sounds coming from the cockpit.

Quill flattened to the floor, gripping her prybar. She had been right. There were still slavers on the freighter. She adjusted the grip on her new weapon, silently getting back to her feet, and slunk towards the front of the freighter as quietly as she could. How would she be able to get to the comm now?

She eyed the door to the cockpit, then flicked her eyes back to the cargo bay door. Maybe that would be a better exit. No, wait. There could be more outside. Aauuuuuuugggggh.. fine. She would have to incapacitate whoever it was in the cockpit.

Quill reached out with her free hand, grasping the door. She flung it open, swinging the prybar wildly in front of her, hoping to hit something.

 

[Mira Albion]

Mira gritted her teeth, slightly annoyed. In statement, Corrin had brushed her off, refused to make things easier for her by helping her with directions, enlisted her assistance once more, and offered a lift offworld. While she was immensely grateful, she wished he would at least drag his finger across her kriffing hand, just because she had the Force to see did not make it easy nor instinctual. She was not born blind.

Turning, 'watching' Corrin, Mira sprinted past him and towards the ship. Caring not for its appearance nor assembly, she sprinting with unnatural speed towards the vessel. It was not the Force that aided her now, rather, it was her genetics. Unlike Corrin, Mira was a full blood Echani and had been trained since she was a young child in the ways of the Echani, though albeit a bit twisted. While she was no master of her abilities nor the attached swordsman and martial arts skills, that did not mean she did not possess a decent amount of skill in it.

Bursting into the ship, Mira would immediately seek out through the Force the intruder. Finding it with ease, she made a mad dash for the cockpit.

[member="Quill"]
[member="Corrin Tal'verda"]
[member="Rawnie Tal'verda"]