Puff the Magic Dragon Didn't Live by the Sea

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

Oh kriff, Tatooine? She had to wear her light armor on Tatooine?! That place was fricken hot. And not the kind of hot where lots of good-looking men would be.

The other hot.

Of course she left her weapons on Hannibal's ship. She just had to sneak past her mentor, pick-up her stuff, and head out to claim the bounty on the scalies. Easy as her pecan pie, right?

She tiptoed into the ship, hoping the cyborg would be on a lunch break off-campus.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

The Negative Perspiration, a KR-TB "Doomtreader," was not a pretty ship. It did not look pretty, it did not fly pretty. It didn't even have all that many guns or fancy equipment. But it was Hannibal's (mobile) home and his first ship. Despite being small, dingy, and uniformly unpleasant, he absolutely adored the thing. That was why he was reclined across the decaying couch in the lounge area of the ship, perusing galactic news on his datapad. He was mostly trying to pay attention to how Cestus Cybernetics was doing on the market. Good things. Only good things. Not that he had anything to do with the company, of course. Why would anyone assume that?

Needless to say, the creaky stairs where not receptive of Kitt's movement down them.

"Kitt, what inna' hells are ya doin'?" Hannibal inquired without looking up from the news, dragging a finger across the screen to get to the next page.

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

"Oh come on," hand fell to one cocked-hip as she paused in the doorway, "how'd you know it was me, Boss?" He was stuck with that nickname just like his thousand-year old couch. "I see you haven't done much with the place - still a hole-in-the-wall bachelor pad. How you gonna snag your dream female cyborg with a couch like that?"

Better to distract him with questions rather than answering his own. She eased past him and poked her head into the adjoining room leading to the gun turrets. Her weapons had to be around here somewhere.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

"Lucky guess." Hannibal admitted, now looking up from his readings. "Probably jus' woo 'er with my charms. Where're ya goin'?"

Kitt didn't linger in the doorway for long, slinking through the small lounge area and and heading for the turret. She was apparently looking for something, but she babbled on anyway. She had a point. Dream female cyborgs did not dig rotting pieces of furniture. Hannibal hadn't lent much thought to pursuing a dream female cyborg either. Bounty hunting and corporate shenanigans did not open a lot of windows in meeting the opposite sex. Eh. Whatever. If he got lonely, Zeltros was always a hyperspace jump away.

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

Nosy.

"No where - I mean, I'm just looking for my..." slipping inside the turret room, she picked up a tattered satchel, "ah-ha, found them!" Back into the common room, she slung the strap of the bag across her shoulder, making a beeline for the stairs and the one and only exit and entrance. "Weapons. I'm surprised I left them here for this long. Anyway, enjoy your reading. See you later..."

Sunscreen, she had to remember to pick up some sunscreen.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

By the time Kitt exited the turret and re-entered the commons room, Hannibal had abandoned his relaxed position on the couch. Now he was standing directly in front of the stairs, arms-crossed and obstructing her exit. He probably could have let her run loose like the dickens with the weapons she left here, but that would make for a pisspoor mentor-figure. With that in mind, he repeated his previous question.

"Ya definitely headin' somewhere if ya packin' that much heat."

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

She almost ran into him, she was so absorbed by looking through her bag to make sure nothing was missing. Actually, scratch that, she did run into him. Head whipped up and she took a few stumbling steps back after she rebounded off his solid chest. "For kriff's sake you scared the kark...you always move that fast? Never mind." She straightened, zipping the bag closed and gave her mentor a calculated-stare.

She looked over his shoulder at the stairs. Sure, she could force-slam his arse out of the way but that would make her a pisspoor student and friend. "Uggh fine. You really want to know?"

Of course he did.

"I'm going tocollectthebountyonthekraytdragon," she mumbled quickly, averting her gaze and suddenly finding her shoes very interesting.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Hannibal had not always been able to move that fast. First he had to learn to crawl. Then came walking. Then came a multitude of other activities that culminated when he was on a sports team in high school. Then recreational stuff in college, and then months of intense training with a PMC. Oh, glory days, how they now eluded him. Hannibal opted not to explain that to Kitt. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. She seemed rather bummed out that he wasn't budging until she let him know what she was up to.

She was probably sneaking out to go bounty hunting with some rough-and-tumble upstart outlaw she had a crush on. That's what bounty hunter kids typically do, isn't it? Hannibal wasn't sure if his duties as mentor were supposed to carry over to a role as father figure. Maybe that was just weird. Did she even still talk to her parents? Was he going to have to bust the kid she was running around with's balls? That'd be pretty funny.

Unfortunately, Hannibal found himself suddenly wishing that was the case when Kitt started talking about Krayt Dragons and the hunting thereof.

"Uh-huh." Hannibal said, folding his arms and nodding. "An' judgin' by the fact ya ain't bringin' a big enuff gun, th' plan is t' get killed. All violent-like."

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

"What?!" She protested, staring at Hannibal. "This is grade-A stuff, right here. The WikiKrayt Dragon archives said so." Mirroring his stance, she stubbornly folded her arms across her chest. Huffing, she continued to stare her mentor down, undeterred.

"You gonna get out of my way or are you gonna come along? Because dragons wait for no man...or woman. Time's a-wasting. Plus, I gotta pick up some sunblock on the way." Her foot tapped against the deck-plating impatiently.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

"WikiKrayt? Ya mean 'at one thing any 'ol schmuck can edit? Stay off that part 'a the holonet, kid." Hannibal dispensed a pearl of wisdom before moving out of the way, crossing over to the turret to rummage through his own weapons locker. "Hold ya horses 'till I gets a real gun."

A clamor came from the turret as Hannibal shifted through piles of weapons to find the one he was looking for. Some were souvenirs, trophies, or just antiques he had picked up a long the way. When masquerading as a low-brow brute, one must acquire a low-brow hobby. Like collecting and oogling firearms for no apparent reason. And also keeping them ill-organized.

Eventually Hannibal came back into view, a freakishly large powerpack clinging to his back. Attached to the powerpack via cord and cradled in Hannibal's arms was the BTI-HBC. Otherwise known as the Ravager. A gun most frequently used for blowing up light and medium armored vehicles. Or godmoddy witches on Metalorn, but that was a story from another player character.

"Alrighty, les' go."

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

"Overcompensating for your ego...I mean...," she laughed, heading up the stairs. "Let's go bag and tag one oh wise mentor." She was glad he was coming, really. But she would never tell him that. As a student, it was much better to give him a hard time. After all, it was how she showed she cared.

"It's a good thing I rented that freighter." Not too far away from Hannibal's ship was the ready-to-tote dragons freighter. She hit a button, unlocking the doors and disabling the alarm system with a beep-boop. She dropped her weapon's bag outside of the cockpit, settling into the pilot's chair. "Sorry, but the insurance policy has me as the only driver. You'll have to co-pilot this one, boss."

A smirk found its way on her lips. Fingers were already punching in the coordinates to the desert planet. They'd have to pick up sunblock there.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

"Only thing I'm compensatin' fa' is th' damn peashooters you're carryin' 'round." Hannibal grunted, shuffling awkwardly after Kitt.

Walking around with this weaponized monstrosity was a bit of exercise, but Hannibal was a cyborg. He could take the pain. Besides, what other weapon could one shot a damn Krayt Dragon? Not any of those Czerka rifles he usually carried around with him these days. Certainly not whatever slingshot Kitt was packing. They exited the ship, Hannibal pausing a moment to lock it behind him. Not that anyone would have the poor sense to steal his ship. Though that was more because it was an old, ugly, outdated thing than anything else.

He gave a whistle as he saw the monstrous freighter she had picked out. Could certainly carry a Krayt Dragon, but getting it on there could be problematic. They could cross that bridge when they got to it. For now, Hannibal shrugged off his power pack, the thing smacking against the floor with a heavy thud. He made himself comfortable in the co-pilot's seat. Insurance? She was way more responsible with this stuff than he was... Or at least, he pretended to be irresponsible. All part of the ruse.

"I'll differ t' you, oh cap'n, my cap'n."

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

“Whoa – did you just call me Captain?” Her grin widened. “Never thought I’d hear the day when that happened, boss. In fact, this might go down as the best gorram day in my life. Well, so far,” she winked to her mentor before turning her attention to the task of piloting the mammoth ship.

After hyperspace travel and a few snacks, they found themselves landing on the edge of the desert, a canyon range a click or so to the starboard side. Grabbing the gear she mournfully forwent the sunblock, opting to tuck her hair beneath a smashball-cap. The light armor she wore would cover most of her body from the skin-cancer rays. Besides, it was the dragon’s fire she was more worried about. Didn’t krayt dragons breath fire?

Armed with a modified czerka-rifle that shot out giant stun-rings, the same she used on Doc when the Pubs invaded their world, among other weapons, she strolled into the simmering-hot Tatooine late afternoon air. “Let’s go round ourselves up a giant lizard. Remember we need it alive so don’t get too trigger happy with that thing, Oryen.” She was obviously still in Captain-mode, dishing out orders like free hot-apple cakes.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Whaddaya mean we need th' damn thing alive? Hannibal thought, thoroughly dismayed.

He was a little heartbroken that Kitt had made him drag out the giant, miniaturized turbolaser. What did she think that gun was for, exactly? Punching holes in dragons, of course. Far be it for him to assume whoever wanted this Krayt Dragon wanted it dead. Who the hell was going to get any use out of a live Krayt Dragon? What, were they going to train it as a pet? Circus side show? They'd be killed. More importantly, Kitt and himself would be killed trying to round the thing up for whatever sick, sadistic nutcase posted up this bounty.

Hannibal decided to bring the thing anyway. Someone had to be capable of killing that desert-born monstrosity if Kitt's peashooter didn't do the trick. Hannibal severely doubted there was any means by which they could knock a Krayt Dragon unconscious, restrain it, throw it on the freighter, and then get it all the way to crazy town where the bounty poster lived. But, this was Kitt's op. She probably had a really complex, really cool plan that Hannibal couldn't even guess. It was that good.

"Ya wish is my command, o' honorable huntress Solo."

Hannibal teetered down the loading ramp, hoisting the biggest gun this side of Tatooine over his shoulder.

 

[Kitt Solo]

@[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

Was he slacking lately? The bounty specifically said 'alive.' "What happened to Mister Details? Course it specifically said alive."

He was making her second guess herself. Oh frakstars! The bounty did say that. Right? Right. Seriously. No, no, right. About ninety nine percent sure...

She looked back over her shoulder, reaching the mouth of the canyons. "You need help with that thing?" Voice deadpanned, one hand on her angled-hip. The ground shook beneath their feet as a puff of smoke seemed to come from a canyon wall deeper in.

Well, chit.