Salvage Run: Polis Massa (Protectorate, open)

[Ashin Varanin]

If this galaxy had one immutable truth, one fundamental principle, one lodestone, one northern star, it was this:

If a dot on the map exists, a cantina will be there.

Jethro sucked back his third lum of the evening and continued to sit in the corner booth of the asteroid cantina. A panoramic viewport displayed no planet, just rocks and the deep black. The Cantina at the End of the Universe, they called this place. Your average spacer dive.

The five-navy Battle of Polis Massa had taken place in this system, elsewhere in the asteroid belt a couple of years back. This comfortably far from anything halfway civilized in the shipyard department, only the essentials had been cannibalized from the debris. Hulks still floated out there, powerless in the dark, no gravity, nothing.

He'd passed the word that he was looking for some salvage crew, folks who didn't mind a spacewalk and could provide at least some of their own tools. Maybe he'd get results, or maybe folks around here would take exception to his plan to rip into a graveyard.

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Jethro Merrill"]

"Ain't much, but I'll be needin' a new power coil." Chloe would tell the shop keeper as she'd lean against the counter. She was in the lone shop this side of the 'verse on the Polis Massa asteroid depot. Few and far in between are spacers this deep in the black, but it was just a regular stop for the Warden for supplies.

Hands would nab a hair tie as she'd go running her fingers through the thick waves of her hair, making a makeshift ponytail at the crown of her head to keep the rebellious tresses at bay.

"Maybe two. Could use a spare if'n you have it," she'd continue, shifting her weight to her right foot as her left hip would rise, the half wrapped mechanics overalls tied at her waist, leaving a plain blue shirt and a low hung bodo bass belt round her hips.

"What else you got to trade?" she'd perk up curiously. The barter system worked well this far out in the Unknown Regions.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

The supply shop and the cantina sort of commingled in the all-service truck stop kind of sense, which more or less defined the other folks in here. A couple of Tempus Ardet big rigs started a hard burn just outside the window, their engine wash rattling the transparisteel as they accelerated -- gradually and with effort -- towards their unimpressive final cruising speed and their profound final momentum.

Jethro slugged back the dregs of his lum, eyes lingering on the flight-suit-and-gunbelt-wrapped hips of the blonde at the counter. "This dingus don't have two power coils to trade, chief. Doesn't have much in the way of ship parts at all, not after those truckers came through."

He left a couple coins on the table, tipping at somewhere generously north of 2%. "Got no recourse but to go out for a little chop shop action. That's where I'm bound -- there's a whole mess of hulks that can't all have been stripped clean. Gonna get me some drive coils, see if I can't boost my lift capacity some. You down, mamacita?"

 

[Chloe Blake]

The Corellian blonde would turn to eyeball [member="Jethro Merrill"] with a half amused perk of a brow. Mamacita? She couldn't help but give herself a once over at the grease stains scattered over her coveralls and a light layer of dust and sweat over her brow. One gloved hand would rise up to push the long strands of wayward bangs from her eyes as she'd in turn say, "Ol'val...Salvage work, eh?"

Well it wasn't the first time she'd have to hunker down and dig deep to the skeleton of an old wreck for any left over pickings. Granted, the bulk of the time she did so to confirm there weren't any survivors that had a need of salvation. Blue eyes would dart off to see the lumbering giants of the Tempus Ardets make their way.

"Skrag," would come her low Olys Corellisi curse, mind racing. Arms fell and hands went to perch at her hips, one finger tapping a beat against her belt in thought out there in the black. She'd been here for the fallout of Battle of Polis Massa; heck she'd been part of the crew responsible for collecting the dead. She knew what kind of ships and the like lay out there, floating remains of one of the bloodiest battles in Protectorate history.

Shoulders would rise as she took a deep breath, considering her options. Finally, her attention drew back to the spacer. There came a quirk of her eyebrow, half in amusement and half in seriousness.

"You got a salvage permit there, chico?"

 

[riseabovenormality]

Spacers eyed him cautiously as he entered the junk shop. They soon went back to ignoring him. Things were often like that out here. If you minded yer own damn business, others would return the favor. Generally. Just one of the reasons the elusive Beastmaster of Boz enjoyed this region of space. People around here also seemed to be especially interesting, as Evok often noted. He himself was considered an oddball. Even as far as salvager types go. The lad did wear a gas mask most of the time. Made some people question what he had planned. But others, like a few in the bar, assumed he was just a humanoid with special breathing needs. That was fine by him. As long as someone would buy his goods, he was pleased. Polis Massa was one place where his salvage was always welcome. And by the looks of things... they could use a refreshment of stock. It wasn't uncommon for people to come in, buy almost everything, then leave. A few people in the room perked up when they saw the cart trailing behind Evok. Looks like they wouldn't have to wait nearly as long as they had thought.

"Parts for sale. Don't need much for 'em. Just a drink and a few handfuls of credits.​" The boy's voice was distorted. It sounded mechanical, robotic. But a few wisps of hair could be seen underneath his mask and hood. He was undeniably an organic. Of sorts. Just like those next to him. Speaking of them... Evok pretended to ignore them. Inside, on the other hand, he was listening intently to their conversation. Mentioning salvage always did get him excited. Soon his attention was brought back to the store's manager, who made him a decent offer on most of the parts, which he had been going through quietly. To his disappointment, there were no power coils in the mix. "Sold. One cup of StimCaf for the road, please." Mere seconds later he was happily sipping the drink. Through a straw. It looked pretty weird, considering the straw (which he had apparently brought himself) appeared to just be sticking out of his mask. The occasional slurping sound made it clear he was actually drinking.

He stood there awkwardly, not saying a word.

{[member="Chloe Blake"], [member="Jethro Merrill"]}​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Evok Halver"] [member="Chloe Blake"]

"All squared away. Don't you worry your head 'bout no permits of mine, chief," said Jethro, doing his level best not to give Chloe another onceover. He succeeded, and counted it as his good deed for the week.

Baby steps.

A kid came in with a gas mask and a hoverwagon full of salvage, and that was another pothole on the way to the blonde. Didn't much serve Jethro's interests, either. In his heart of hearts, he was aiming to swap out his engines entirely, maybe with something ripped from a gunship. Wouldn't no gunship engines fit in that hoverwagon. But still-

"Hey kid, you got Blackwing in there or somethin'? What's with the mask?" He sauntered over to the wagon. "And you got anything of a repulsorliftish nature?"

 

[Allyson Locke]

I hated corners and I hated being creepy in them. I listened intently to this guy and the blonde chick. As I listened I pulled out a small tablet and pulled up the bounty and the list of known associates. Seeing the woman I grinned. Yes, I am on my way. My eyes closed as I imagined myself swimming in credits from the poster, I could buy what ever I wanted!

Now it was time to make myself known and possibly useful. I was a mechanic an engineering drop out from corellia. I could do anything! Grinning I fixed my tan vest and poked my head over. "Whatever coils you got I can make em work. Don't need an upgrade I know how to make em purr and give you all they got. " a hand appeared.

"Ally, engineer and mechanic looking for work!"

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Jethro Merrill"] [member="Evok Halver"]

"Heh," came Chloe's short half chuckle, tongue in cheek as both brows would rise as if to say, right. "Then we got ourselves an arrangement." She'd hold out her glove hand. "Chloe Blake." introducing herself. It was then that a more familiar face quite literally popped out.

"Ally?!" the Corellian would questionly look at the brunette with piqued curiosity. She'd meet the mechanic back on Yavin, back when she had spent time with Ember Rekali cataloging Drumund Kaas's big bad. Allyson Locke, mechanic and Ember's right hand woman in terms of the Coronet. Warmth would spread across her face in growing genuine pleasure, for it had been a while since she'd seen the lass.

"Khasaan'l!" she'd say, closing the distance as if to give her a quick hug, "I didn't know the Coronet would be down this way," her eyes would search behind her, looking for another face a mite bit more scruffy and with a bit more grey in his hair.

"Is Ember with you?"

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah yawned and put another sugar packet into his caf. Sadly, sugar wasn't helping the taste any. It was terrible. What did one expect from a cantina? Taking another sip, Judah looked at his crew. One near human woman, two Mon Calamarian males and a Twi'lek female all made up the small salvaging group today. One could ask : Judah owned a corporation, why not show up and take over? Well, it was easier to pick the good stuff when one kept a lower profile. After all, Judah did find that space station, restore it, and auction it off for a cool twenty-six million credits.



Must be doin' something right.



Today they had ears to the ground, trying to get a feel for what was ahead of them. It was hard to tell, especially with spacer stories. Polis Massa was unexplored territory for Judah and Salacia Consolidated. They would be trampling over some interesting ground and caution would have to be greatly exercised. Nothing they hadn't done before.


"Boss, what're we looking for?" Na'sara, the Twi'lek spoke up. The blue skinned girl was young but ambitious. Na'sara was the chief mechanic on the this operation, keeping both vessels and their equipment running smooth as butter. Judah couldn't think of anyone better for the job ahead.


"The usual. Big items. Mostly in-tact items." His blue eyes drifted to the exchange in the cantina. A man ( [member="Evok Halver"] ) was pulling a cart full of salvaged parts. At least it signaled to the group there was something out there to get.


"Finish up your drinks. We're about to push off and explore."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Evok Halver"] [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Chloe Blake"] [member="Judah Dashiell"]

Jethro's enthusiasm dimmed a little as it became clear that the two ten-outta-ten spacer-bum chiquitas knew each other. Not because he wasn't the fantasizin' type, but because when girls traveled in packs they tended to be less charitably inclined towards dudes.

It is known.

"I got a berth for ya, lady," he said. "Full share of the take, one-time salvage run insystem, stick around if you like the ride. You down?"

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Boots rested lightly on the table, fingers tapping along with the rhythm of the music in the cantina as she watched the world go by. She used to live and breath this life, lurking in the parts of space where only scum and those with little moral values went. Her you'd pick up shreds of knowledge, be able to see the patterns of the underverse a little more clearly. The more of the underverse you saw, the easier it became to go where the money was.

Grey eyes watched the small group began to grow without really looking at them. She had her ear their way, from the opposite side of the room Mia listened carefully. One smuggler without a name, Chloe Blake and a girl by the name of Ally who'd run with Ember. She'd heard the name Blake before, but she couldn't but her finger on its origin. The glass of dark liquid rose, pausing momentarily, a flicker of a smile crossing her lips before she drained it.

She slid the glass to the edge of the table where a waitress collected it, deflty avoiding wandering hands and smacking aside those who got within reach as she wandered away. Eyes half closed and she tipped her head back to rest on the bench for a moment. It'd been a while since she'd had a hand in salvage. She opted to listen for a little longer before making a commitment.

[member="Jethro Merrill"] [member="Judah Dashiell"] [member="Chloe Blake"] [member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Kairon Rees]

His star was finally rising, Kairon decided as the ramp of the Quintessence lowered. It might still be in the mud, but at least there was hope of fresh air again. The last few jobs had gone reasonably for the rag-tag crew. There was semi-regular work shipping fine spirits from the core world's out, and stolen goods back in. The salvage op over Coruscant had gone well, which was why he was here.

As the ramp shuddered to a halt, the musky smell of the port reached his nose. Slowly rising, very slowly, he reflected. Asmus stood just off to his side, half a stride back. The crew were still tentative around him. He'd been in a black mood for days. The crew knew he'd seen an advert for a new holoflick and stormed away from the ship's screen, but they had no clue what the cause was. They never would, if he had his way.

Asmus actually wrinkled his nose, disapproval flashed across his face. The empty-headed youth favoured pretty lights and pretty girls, he'd find neither here. It was times like this that Rees started thinking about shipping the boy back to his family. The guilt Kairon felt every time he thought of his sister ran deep. Of course, he knew why he kept the whelp around. If he didn't have him to look after, he'd have few reasons not to go back to his old ways...

Asmus made up his mind, turning on his heel and heading back to the ship. Kairon noticed a shadow flit past the edge of his periphery. It seemed the stowaway Cathar, Mai, was going for a look around. How had the agile feline even got up onto the deck of the ship anyway? One of these days he'd manage to escape port without her.

As he descended the ramp, Jarrick caught up with him. The ship's second in command was an old war vet, previously a Sergeant in the Eriadu Marines. Kairon had wondered, but never asked why the man was on his crew. Disciplined, efficient, you couldn't ask for anything more in a mate. Kairon didn't like others asking about his reasons for being here, so he didn't pry in return.

He turned to look back up at the ship as the left the dock. "She's looking in good shape," he observed.

"Asmus doesn't think so," Jarrick replied with a wry smile.

"That's because the lad thinks we should have spent the money on new paint and chroming the engine," Kairon replied. "Instead of new sensors and countermeasures and getting the second hard point mounted." Privately, he noted to himself that the worn teal paint could do with a refresh soon.

"What's the gig? Want me at the table?" Jarrick asked, suddenly turning to a business-like manner. The pair of them had developed a good rapport in their trades. They'd typically alternate between amicable and dismissive until they reached the price they wanted. Worked quite well on the slime balls that often sold on goods stolen by pirates. Rees felt no remorse for the kind of men that would sell the uniforms of convoy guards without even bothering to wash off the blood stains first.

"Salvage op, but not with the alliance. Split up, keep your eyes on my back, looks a rough joint," Kairon ordered. With barely a nod first, Jarrick melted into the crowd and wandered off.

Ah, The Cantina at the End of the Universe, original, he thought to himself. To be fair, they were usually "at the end of the Galaxy", he mused. He sauntered through the bar, wincing at the noise of his boots lifting off the sticky deck. He leaned on the bar, nodding to the barman and waited.

When the man walked over, throwing a stained towel over his shoulder, Rees ordered an ale. "Do you know a man names Jethro?" he asked a little too loudly.

[member="Jethro Merrill"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Jethro Merrill"] | [member="Kairon Rees"] | [member="Mia Monroe"] | [member="Chloe Blake"]


Judah lay a decent amount of credits on the table -- enough to cover their drinks and a bit of tip. Generous, but not overly so. Didn't want to attract suspicion anyhow. Standing from the booth, Judah pulled on his older black coat as his salvage crew did the same, gathering gear or gulping down the last cups of hot caf. Stretching tired muscles, the CEO/salvager nodded to his crew to hit the door. Indistinct conversation bubbled up inside the group. A serious nod or a bit of laughter broke up the conversation every so often. Judah felt confident about the crew. Everyone was capable. Everyone knew their jobs like a time worn recipe.


A man was talking a little loudly -- drunk, looking for a fight, or both. It was a good thing they were headed out the door. As he passed, Judah could have sworn he saw one Miss Chloe Blake. He hadn't seen the woman since their Vagrant Fleet days. It was hard to tell then if it really was her. Best to keep his mouth shut. She looked involved in some type of transaction.


Without a word to the others, Judah and his crew walked out of the hole-in-the-wall back to their vessels. Enough waiting around. It was time to go and salvage.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Chloe Blake"] [member="Evok Halver"] [member="Judah Dashiell"] [member="Kairon Rees"] [member="Mia Monroe"]

Oh feth. Oh feth. Buddy at the bar was callin' his name, the high roller looked to be booking it, maybe to cut in on his salvage, and the mamacitas just weren't biting. A pretty decent salvage day had just gone straight south, in an anatomical sense.

For a long old minute he thought about owning up to the name.

"Alright, I ain't waiting around for you jokers. You want in on the salvage run, I'll be over thisaway runnin' preflight."

With buddy ensconced at the bar, the door was clear. Jethro went for it.

 

[Allyson Locke]

Ally shook her head, she hadn’t seen Ember in some time – the man was busy with his family issues or whatever it was. Frowning, the girl shrugged and threw her hands into the air. “You know how the old man is, he gets his mind on something he keeps going. We check in here and there, but I’m kind of doing my own thing. I’m glad you’re okay Chloe – galaxy is ruthless.” It was in that moment that her target Jethro decided to try and give her the slip. He wasn’t going to get away this time – she needed the credits tied to this bounty.

The Fringe didn’t need to know he wasn’t exactly in their space – heck she knew that little jedi mind trick she just had to lie and make them believe. Grinning, she waved at Chloe and quickly followed Jethro. “Ey! Wait up. I’m in!” She made sure she remained near him and not in a creepy way. “Whatever you’re flying I’ll get her going. We’ll talk about my cut later.”

[member="Jethro Merrill"] [member="Chloe Blake"]

 

[Chloe Blake]

[member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Jethro Merrill"] [member="Judah Dashiell"] [member="Kairon Rees"]

Well that all happened in a flash. Either it appeared that they were all in it for some salvaging. The blonde warden would flash a grin, calling out to the departing two, "Meet you out in the black then. Best get your Bedunday's best on!" Shed say in teasing, her hands sliding over her hips to wipe off some of the dirt on them.

Well, time to go ship diving. All the while making sure any of them old OP vessels that once held their dead be treated properly.

 

[Ironwolf]

[member="Jethro Merrill"]

A shadowly figure suddenly loomed in through the door. Right in the path of the spacer who was rushing out of the place. The cantina had not been his first choice of destination, but his contact had been no good. Unable to yield the information he seeked despite the generous offers granted to her in return. Forcing him now to this dungheap of a cantina.

He knew who he was looking for. He knew this one would talk but he had to get to him first. Right now, there was just this tight doorway and someone heading straight at him.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"Excuse me."

Terribly rude of me, to step in front of the dark haired fellow like this, but what's an above average looking upstanding citizen like myself going to do to get sudden gainful employment? Not starve on the streets. Been doing that for quite long enough since my last business associate stranded me. Didn't like my eating habits, I'm afraid.

"Excuse me," I said again, my shorter height hopefully putting the capitano at ease, "I was hoping to get a bit of work. Sasha's the name. Salvaging is the game! Eh? Unfortunately I seem to have found myself without a ship... Seems like you might need an extra hand, no?"

Cue winsome smile. Cue reliable sparkle in the eye. Cue a job?

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Sasha"]


Judah looked back at his crew. None of them looked as if they needed some hand. Especially not from someone smiling in that manner. What was this guy looking for, a job and a date? The annoying, "winsome" smile was already getting on his nerves. Judah wasn't so sure he could stand it while trying to haul in pieces of scrap. A little too eager. Something was a little....off....


"Look, I don't employ glitterstim addicts. Or addicts in general. Liability and I already pay enough in insurance."