Scavenger Run

[Flannigan Mcnash]

Location: Kessel Sector, closest plant
Objective: Scavenge/ambush ships in the area

It spiralled out and onto the solar winds with a wink of light, a shimmer a slight flux in the open blackness. It appeared with what one might assume would be a 'pop', but this was space and space no one heard you 'pop'. He rocked back on his pronged toe's, hands deep on the surrounding control-board, as he cast weary eyes into the black of space from the bridge of the Kebechet.

"Conduct your scan Cadan, we're salvaging this area. I want pings if any ship enters the zone." he addressed [member="Cadan Tazi"], looking at the bald blue humanoid with sucken eye's, the look of 'I expect you to tell me bad news, don't'. "Remember, we're not the cartel anymore. We have to 'earn' our paychecks."

---​

[member="Cadan Tazi"], [member="[/FONT]Malineer"]​

 

[Malineer]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0TcNd330qHs&ab_channel=Derek&BrandonFiechter=[/media]
​

There but just out of eyesight of the starving Jackals sat a carcass ripe for the picking, a dilapidated relic of a craft with a steady energy signature, weak though it was. No engine, no lights, and surrounded by debris there was very little chance of such a ship scurrying away from Its scrap-hungry predators, no the once-majestic beast drifted helplessly within the vacuum like an etherized sea-creature caught in a current's pull.

​

Spoiler

She was by no means an insignificant craft when it came to size, a ship capable of comfortably holding at least one-hundred crew men and a considerable amount of cargo if judged by the experienced eye and while the barge appeared to have been ravaged by the force of time and all the debris that it might have passed it looked to be untouched by man or beast. An unmolested relic of millennia presented itself to the galaxy's scrap-hunters like like a ripe peach dangling on a low branch.

---
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] , [member="Cadan Tazi"]​

 

[Thraxis]

There Thraxis sat, it had been so long since he felt Jackal Leather, which felt like all other Leather, except with a Jackal logo. That tended to not be there. He pulled himself back, listening as someone else gave the orders, rather then him giving poor, more often then not incoherent orders that tended to be followed with an idea rather then by a plan. Yes, it was good to be able to sit back and watch the stress drag someone else to an early death.

His fingers ran along the leather, the scritch and scratch making that all too familiar sound, a sound you could only hear on Jackal leather. Which sounded like all other Leather, except with a Jackal logo. His arm rolled into a small container hanging loosely by a thread wrapped around the arm of the chair. Slowly his claws gripped around glass, the sound of cling and clang banging against each other as his hand unsteadily pulled it out before his finger forced the cork off, a breathe of bubbles quickly escaping from the top, almost clawing for freedom from its see through prison.

"So then. Flannigan, pray tell why did you bring me to some random rock, in some random place, for what seems to be. A random reason." he inquired, his brow raised as slowly he raised the bottle, his two fingers holding on with little grip before tipping it over and down his gullet, its contents quickly pooling up as it began to overflow from his mouth, before slowly it began to drain down his throat, hitting with a splash as it collided with his stomach.
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Cadan Tazi"]
[member="Malineer"]

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

"A random reason, there's always a reason to pull through old ship's. After all its unguarded, except for when old security systems, and traps, and old war droids." in that moment he thought on his next order 'get a boarding team ready Thraxis, we're entering that randomness', so instead he said. "Get a team of droids ready, they're entering that randomness." which in the whole was a lot more safer.

---​

​

Their long, elongated heads atop tall, slender necks gave them a lanky exterior, as they entered the forgotten halls of the ship through a neat hole in its exterior, their monotone voice thundered through the ship in whiplashes. "Rodger, rodger." dark metallic cube were pulled from the ship, the hum of engines could be heard, the geometric forms of a set of light_freighters preparing to launch towards the wreck. The rumble of the engines tossing debri it to the air swirling, creating tiny vortexes of dust in the hanger bay.

"We've found something, Rodger, rodger. Its appears to be carbonite slab sir." the droid chimed through the coms. "Well is anything in there, and is it alive bring it to the bridge. And scrap anything else there while your at it." the droids began to remove it from its confines, the light 'click' could be heard as the block of metal was placed aboard a hover lift, moving through the halls of the relic out through a waiting ship docked next to it and flown out from it and placed aboard the Kebechet before the captain.

"Have touchy Jim unlock it." there was a commotion in the group of pirates and droids, one spoke above the rest. "Not karking Touchy Jim, he's all touch feely." the stasis was unlock the carbonite began to dissolve around the figure, and there to catch him was Touchy Jim.

"This'll make our guest really uncomfortable."​

​

---​

[member="Thraxis"], [member="Malineer"], [member="Cadan Tazi"]​

 

[Malineer]

The aged figure within fell from the slab with a clatter and desperate gulps of air, right into the warm and touchy embrace of Touchy Jim. Those metallic arms may as well have been those of the reaper himself as Malineer's torso was wracked with an intolerable burning, his eyes with blindness, and the rest of him with fatigue. He had stepped into the twilight zone, and clattered from his balance as though bullets had hit his leg bones.

"Wha- wh.." The weak man tried to force up words and stand for himself against the embrace of the droid but managed only to lose his balance and clatter to the floor with a pained yelp. This wasn't ideal, as far as the Sith knew he might have been dying, and he reacted to this with resistance, he tried to force himself off the floor by planting his hands against the metal and pushing his torso up but only managed to get a foot off the floor before he wretched and bile spewed from his throat in a short burst, as though he were an overdosing spice-head.

All-in-all the man clattered on the floor, vomiting and heaving strained breaths wasn't a conspicuous figure in the slightest, a middle-aged man with deep laugh-lines, salt-and-pepper stubble and heavy bags beneath his eyes who wore simple attire, a brown workers jumpsuit, tough work boots and a stained, dusty, biege vest with a logo on the back that depicted a cartoonized hutt extending a wrench while smiling bright and wide. "Zolda's Kolta Repair!" The vest read in Huttese just beneath the logo. ​

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis watched as, what looked to be some drugged up spice head emerge from his carbonate bath. " Guys, I want you to be careful around that man." he said as he pulled another bottle with a clang and cling out of his pouch, its contents repeating like the last, a froth and a bubble, a sizzle as the air swapped with the contents of the glass, " Because the only people who are ever in those things, are either Clones, Smugglers or Sith. Never anything good come from those things." he said, looking with a worried look to Touchy Jim. He was such an innocent man. Just a man who had been dealt a poor hand, a few too many songs and what do ya know. Your strung up in prison for touching kids.

Thraxis bent over, looking over the man, his cloth looked old and worn, looking similar to Jackal Leather, which felt like leather, except with a Jackal insignia. Something this one rightfully was missing. His eyes paused their search, reading the words strapped to his back, "Zolda's Kolta Repair..." he said as he looked to the Hutt on his back, he had never heard of this group before, though if he was in carbonite, it meant he had done something to wrong a Hutt. And more likely, the Cartel.

"Yo, Flannigan, you familiar with the Hutts in the Cartel?" he said on his comm, hoping to grab the metallic diabolic droid commanders attention, " Anyone called Zolda? Maybe even Kolta? But I don't think repair." he said as he broke his gaze from the comical Hutt, looking towards the man well worn face, though it was hard to focus, as violent vomiting fits kept moving his face, preventing a solid grasp of the mans features.
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Malineer"]

 

[Malineer]

Malineer groaned and wrapped an arm around his torso, calming as he felt the steady rhythm of his heart to reassure him that he yet lived. A moment where The Human was silent save for the heaving of his strained breath passed while he listened to the sounds of the surrounding room, catching mere murmurs of Thraxis' conversation with the droids. It wasn't until the Zeltron went for his comm that Malineer managed to decipher what he was saying. "It...It's a typo," Malineer rasped in a hoarse hiss. "It's supposed.." Continued The Human while his feet shuffled and struggled to find their footing, an incredibly difficult task considering that he couldn't yet feel them beyond the painful tingling of his circulation returning. "Supposed to say Kolto."

The Man managed to find his feet with the help of the long-armed droid nearby, he was raised wit the metal appendages beneath curled arms as though they were crutches. Had Malineer known who it was that aided him he might've thought Touchy Jim wasn't touchy at all, rather that he just had rather long arms for his size. "Zolda was too cheap to get new ones." The Sith struggled to even speak currently, his chest still burned and though he felt his leg tense they were still tingling and intolerable to stand on; coupled with the fact that his vision was totally black, Malineer was at the mercy of whoever just pulled him out of his prison.

"Where am I? Who are you?" questioned Malineer between a couple of shaky breaths. The Man's face scrunched with the Inquiry, into a bemused sneer befitting someone as lost as he. These folk weren't shouting at the top of their lungs about Valkorian or stabbing him currently so he felt safe in assuming they weren't his original captors.

---
​

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

"You are here, aboard my luxury cruise liner called the love boat." he opened his hand's to gesture around him, from the control panels to the windows and the assortment of droids and pirate all standing around looking towards [member="Malineer"], a hungry look in their eye's one moment would be all they needed to take him away from Touchy Tim's loving embrace and dash him to the floor. "And these are my lovable crew here to help me on my wacky adventures."

"So what brings you to this neck of the space woods? Come here often?" a low chuckle broke from his voxbox spilling out in a low rumble, it was infectious and spread to the crew and even some of the droids joined in, those smart enough to know to laugh when their captain laugh, lest they walked the hypothetical space plank.

"But seriously who the hell are you?" a steely undertone entered his voice the mustered menace of a hulking machine, he drew closer to Malineer, gaining his full height he looked down at the man his eye's displaying all the cheer of a piratical cruise line captain, it wasn't pleasant. "Answer me carefully, what use would I have for a mechanic? Why shouldn't I stick you back in the fridge?" His long clawed hand's wrapping around the hilt of his vibro blade, its bejewelled frame gleaming through the cyborg's grip. It was large and shiny, how hard could a couple tens thousand worth of gems and gold hurt if it hit you?

---​

[member="Malineer"], [member="Thraxis"]​

 

[Malineer]

These men were certainly not Valkorion's, it was doubtful that Zakuul knights would forget about the blindness one suffers after being released from a block of Carbonite. Malineer couldn't see exactly what he was up against, but he was in no state to take risks or jeer the captain. "Pleasure to meet you then, Captain." replied Malineer with just the barest hint of sarcasm. "I'd, uh...Compliment you on your entourage but I'm suffering from a touch of blindness...I'll assume they're armed and terrifying?" Inquired The Human, it felt better to speak now as his lungs settled to the sensation of air filling them again but he still hadn't gotten the feeling back in his legs quite yet, Malineer had serious doubts as to his own physical capabilities.

"Oh y'know, I was working in the engine room, got a little hot and decided to step in the freezer but wouldn't you know it? Damned thing locked from the outside." The Man continued in reply to Flannigan's first jest before offering a more serious answer. "I was taken in for outstanding debts to Zolda the Hutt, debts which I wanted to repay." Malineer was always a good liar, even when his sight was gone and his body was nearly broken he could hold a straight face and lie to his own mother.

"Even if you don't keep me around, Slavers usually pay good credits for workers, sides- I'm not sure if going back into that slab is gonna' kill me or not, really." Regretfully, Malineer had no choice but to bargain with his captors, the force was a powerful weapon but the potential to crush a small ship with it was worthless if you didn't have the strength to execute such a maneuver. "And not to brag, but I make a killer cup of kaffa." Malineer assumed from the captain's introduction he had a small spot in his heart for humor and would enjoy a bit of good natured jesting so long as it wasn't accompanied with disrespect, he certainly hoped that his sense for people wasn't dulled by his stasis.




​

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

His arm raised above his head, the splayed digits of his hand open the palm bare as he brought it down upon [member="Malineer"], patting him on the back. "Ha! You've got moxy kid! I like that, ever thought about a career in pirating?" he leaned his arm against his shoulder steering him. "What am I saying, of course you have. Adventure, treasure and rewards beyond your wildest dream. And your occasional space STD."

"[member="Thraxis"], get this man fixed up. A rusty cutlass and a bottle of our strongest stuff, and none of that engine fuel mixed with bathtub liquor. The stuff we stole from that merchant, but only a cup he's only engineer an he hasn't even made me that kaffa yet." he began to lead Malineer in-front of a blank featureless wall. "Now this is our ship's bursar, he'll fix you up with the equipment you need."

He removed himself from him and turned back to sit in his throne, he sat and began to look towards the wreck. "And you said we wouldn't find anything Thraxis, we're one mechanic richer."

---​

[member="Malineer"], [member="Thraxis"]​

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis looked to him, a look of worry running across his face, it wasn't like the man could see him, so when he stuck his tongue out, his fingers raised in protest of him being a mechanic, and throwing to the metaphorical wall his idea that everyone who was in a carbonate bath was a bad one, it fell flat due to the lack of working eyes and in their place, something more akin to a mentally handicapped sight. " Okay then.... well then if you would watch your step...." he paused for a second, it seemed like sight was a sore issue to touch.

"Okay, first thing we need to establish, is this is not our bursa. This is a blank wall." he said as he looked to Touchy Tim, a quick nod of the head and Touchy Tim wrapped his arms around the mans gut, helping lead the handicapped retard of a mechanic. As to how a mechanic was going to do his job, one of which mostly required the use of a sense. One normally called sight, was one to be seen. But if it could be done, then who was he to say this crippled invalid of a man was incapable.

After a few minutes of walking through the ship, "Over here we have the...." he repeated at least a few times, the fact of sight being devoid in this man who was lacking because of what could have been a birth defect or his own stupidity, "Right.... Uhhh... Lets continue I suppose." he said, his confidence slowly diminishing, he was not the kind of man to bully the pathetic and blind, but a sight he took for granted was one such thing. And grandiose anything tends to lose its sense of pizazz when Sight is taken from the equation.

After a string of awkward failures continued to run amuck they finally made it too the bursar, "Racist Randy, I need a Rusted Cutlass and a bottle of piddle. The good stuff too. Not the crap mixed with Engine Oil." he said aloud, looking as some of the men started to spit and cough, spittle seeping through the air, "Could have sworn they knew. Ah well. Get me a bottle of piddle with the good stuff mixed in it." he said as the Bursar handed him the Cutlass and bottles of booze. Quickly putting his bottle into his belt he handed the cutlass, taking extra diligence to make sure the abnormal mechanic had a tight grip. "Okay now if your observe the craftsmen ship you can.... see..." he paused for a second, a deep breath inhaling before straightening himself up, "This is starting to get... a tad bit gratuitous...." He said as his fingers clenched the bridge of his nose, his head shaking only to realize the man was still incapable of sight because his eyes weren't wired right.
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Malineer"]

 

[Malineer]

Malineer had a decent idea through the force that what he was staring at was indeed not a person, he wasn't aware of Its status as a wall until Thraxis had the kindness to point it out to him. "Thank you, I see your captain keeps in good humor." Malineer replied as he felt the cold metallic embrace of Touchy Jim and his thankful support. For the sake of his own amusement, The Human didn't return the favor to Thraxis and tell him that he was suffering from Carbon sickness right away, however he did seem to enjoy the tour at the very least.

Whenever faced with the Crew's Bruser, Malineer almost thought about inquiring as to why he would be named 'Racist Randy' but he felt the name itself likely served as an explanation in and of itself. When he got hold of the cutlass the 'mechanic' felt along the handle, he hoped to admire the craftsmanship of the weapon but found It had a rather long handle, too long in-fact and when he came across a bulbous head at the end he assumed momentarily that it was a make-shift blunt weapon but quickly re-sended his thought with a following statement. "This is a plunger."

When at last Thraxis found himself strained to give the tour and pinched his nose did Malineer bother to correct him at all. "Well...Seeing as how I've been Shanghaied and made to be a pirate I was having a bit of a poke at you, Carbonite oft has the effect of temporary blindness...I should be alright...The tour can come later, really." The Human managed to fake a mirthful sincerity rather well, in-fact he had often considered making himself out to be something he wasn't one of his most honed skills. "Your Captain had the good graces to introduce us, I'm Mel, Mel Boorne." Malineer extended a hand forward, leaving Thraxis to correct him should he want too bother shaking the new Mechanic's hand. "Occasionally they'll call me Manbeast, Hunter of Rancor, Sovereign of the Moon, Lover of Women." The mechanic added on in jest, taking a mirthful smile- making sure to look straight on rather than directly at Thraxis, not wanting to give away the fact he could sense where the Zeltron was standing.
​

 

[Cadan Tazi]

The voice of Flannigan echoed around Cadan's head. He was tell him to search for ships. Or was he? Whatever he wanted Cadan to do, he couldn't remember. Slowly he stood up from his chair, the spice still making his mind spiral. Cadan's brain kept zoning in and out until he heard the crew getting ready to bring something on from the board of another vessel.

Quickly the Cadan shot up, almost ripping his tighty whiteys. He zipped through the ship in naught but his undies and his ever present trenchcoat. Cadan saw Flannigan and attempted to duck past him, staggering and tripping many times trying to sneak past. The his eyes caught Thraxis and Malineer, over by Racist Randy.

The Duros approached the duo, his hands on his hips, exposing his body onto them. His tighty whiteys luckly cover him. "Who do we got 'ere?" Cadan spoke, swaying from side to side. " 'E don't look like one of us?" Cadan's speach was barely understandable as he spoke with slurred words the spice still affecting his mind and body.

[member="Malineer"] [member="Thraxis"] [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis took a second look at the Cutlass, "Well.... I have personally never been much of a Weapons Expert so I just assumed Racist Randy gave me what I asked for." he said, the look of wanting to confront Randy was strong, but he decided imparting some old wisdom onto the mechanic was a better idea, "Just between you and me, Racist Randy is a nasty man, I don't know why he works here." he said, it was strange for a pirate to find someone nasty and question their employment, but Racist Randy was above the rest, a true soveriegn of racism, abilism, sexism and all other sorts of isims.

"Ohh... that explains why your a mechanic then. To be honest, I don't think the blind do a very good job at mechnical things." he said with a relieved look, the idea this man was not a villain still leaving a sour taste, though he could repress his stance on the subject. For now.

As the man finished his auspicious titles, Thraxis shook his head, this mechanic was quite a well versed man. "Good to know someone here can handle a good Rancor." he said as he heard Cadans ragged voice, the spice had gotten to his head again. As well as every part of his body as he looked him over, speckles of red dust conflicted with the white of his undies, and the blue of his skin. "Well, he has a Cutlass. That makes him half pirate." he said as he passed the bottle to Manbeast, manually wrapping each of his fingers around the bottle. "And now he has a bottle of grog so now he is another half pirate. Making him two half pirate." he said with a satisfied look, if only he could wrap him in some Jackal Leather, which felt the same as regular leather. Just without an insignia. Then he would have the look of a true pirate.
[member="Malineer"] [member="Cadan Tazi"] [member="Flannigan Mcnash"]

 

[Malineer]

It might have been best that Malineer's vision was only slowly returning, the haziest image of color filled his vision and he made out A large blob of moving color where Thraxis stood, the man had pink-skin, he might have been a twi'lek- though there was something strange about the way he spoke; the man wasn't well spoken, so it wasn't his demeanor that made Malineer feel compulsion toward friendliness with him, voice alone wasn't enough to know enough about Thraxis, this was frustrating as all get-out that he couldn't see the Man's movements, it was so much easier to learn if you could see the lesson plan.

"Yeah I can wrangle with the best of 'em, but to tell you the truth I'm better at the card tables." Malineer jested with a small grin as he planted the plunger into the ground and leaned on it. "But uh...I guess that isn't saying much, you kinda' saw how that ended." The Man directed his gaze toward the ground with a slight grimace, luckily for his mechanic act A spice-addled, blue alien arrived mere moments after to make a scene between them and it gaze Malineer the opportunity to commit further to his blind act by not expressing a reaction. "So I've never been a pirate, I uh, guess you shot the fellas who had me locked up, then?"

Malineer had to ask stupid questions, these men didn't know he was a Valkorion prisoner, that they had just ripped off a Valkorion ship, pirates wouldn't do something that stupid- they'd target trade vessels not military, and the real ballsy pirates, the professionals. They'd have just killed him, not shanghaied him. Something was wrong...

---
[member="Thraxis"]
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"]
[member="Cadan Tazi"]
​

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

"Shot, there was no one on it." he walked through the hallway, giving a look to Racist Randy, one that bespoke 'if you call me borgy one more time I'll shove my foot so far up your ass you'll be picking my toes out of your teeth'. "Hello Randy, shouldn't you be else where?" he said moving towards [member="Malineer"], patting him on his shoulder with a heavy hand. "You must've been out a long time, now I wanted to give you directions to the Kaffa lounge, we recently installed a new Kaffa machine. The last one spoke and shot hot water into peoples eye's." he shrugged his massive shoulder's with an air of carelessness moving onto the next topic with no explanation for the first or any indication that it was strange..

"Thraxis, Cadan, and your name was again? Its not important, you're coming to the meeting room we have serious business to discuss and I need someone to dispense the food. And also I have a secret mission for you." he lowered himself to Malineer's height, looking him levelly in the eye's. "I've lost my second in command, he's in the air vents some where you are to find him." and without another word he turned regained his composure and began to walk to the meeting room.

---​

[member="Malineer"], [member="Thraxis"], [member="Cadan Tazi"]​

 

[Malineer]

"Still sort of blind- but uh, before you run me off on that Snipe hunt, I was wondering if you could uh- give me the layout of the operation?" Malineer finally got a clearer look at the alpha Jackal, the sickness was fading rather quickly- Sicknesses were often something force-users could purge of themselves and much to Malineer's surprise, Carbon sickness was no different, his senses were returning to him; this was a blessing to be sure. "I mean- hey I appreciate the work, I mean it sure as hell beats digging my own grave on some poodooty, barren, rock- but a little orientation might help me set in better." The Human mimicked nervousness though his stutters and grasping at words, he avoided looking at Flannigan directly as though he were a child trying to convince his parents to give him a sip of beer, he often thought that were he not a Sith he may have chosen to be an actor on the stage, someone who breathed life into lies and made reality whatever they wished it, that or a politician, both professions fit that description.

Whether or not Flannigan took violent action against Malineer for speaking up was his own decision, but with his vision clear enough to see the quality of the Pirate's cybernetics he knew that this recruitment wasn't the desperate tugging of a man who was running low on men to spare, no these men had real credits, or worked for someone who did. The theory that the Sith currently worked with was that Flannigan was a man of means and boredom, that was good. Bored men with lots of resources could be convinced to do stupid things to quell the desire for action. With his previous question answered, that solidified the theory.

"I'm uh, Mel- Mel Boorne- thanks for asking but uhm.." The Man stumbled, rubbing at his chin and cupping his mouth as though worry had overtaken him, committed to the facade of a spineless, middle-aged man with a gambling problem. "Ah man, I hope I wasn't in there for a really long time..Uh, what year is it? I mean if it ain't been like a century they'll probably still be looking for me and I don't want them kickin' in a door and shooting at people- that'd reflect kinda' poorly on my resume." The human questioned with a sheepish smile, he turned his gaze up toward Flannigan's blurred visage, seeming strained to hold the obviously false optimism in his tone.

---
​

 

[Flannigan Mcnash]

"835 ABY." he moved to his seat at the table, settling down his coat folding out and around him like some large pair of gaudy red wings, he sat there inspecting his finger's looking them over with silent regard, he looked no less than a giant gargoyle on some gaudy nobleman's estate meant to represent strength, honour but instead came across as tacky. "I'm going to do you a kindness, there's a terminal over there it'll connect you to the holonet. Ask your questions there, and while your there install an anti holo addware, my thirty day trial has ended."

"Welcome to the future."​

​

---​

[member="Malineer"], [member="Thraxis"], [member="Cadan Tazi"]​

 

[Malineer]

Malineer nodded quick and added a nervous chortle for good measure before he did an awkward jog to the terminal and set to his task, he hid how concerned he was for the moment, he hadn't heard of that year what-so-ever and it was worrying him. Thankfully he found the holonet to be very much the same as he remembered so it offered some reassurance that he wasn't that displaced yet, of course he searched his 'employer' first just to make it look good, that he was actually concerned about the fake Hutt he had invented for his persona and when he found nothing he breathed out a heavy sigh of relief.

Then the idea struck Malineer to search an event that happened recently enough to be interesting enough to record in the annals of history. The Man searched the Sacking of Courscant in every possible manner he knew, as a battle, as a historical event, he even found lewd parodies written by the repressed shut-ins of the Galaxy but each time he came up with the same answer, thousands of years- not a couple months, not a year or two, Millennia.

A white-hot fury lit Malineer as the confusion struck him, there was no denying how long he had been frozen but part of him wished that he had been more careful in his prior machinations, getting caught up in the rebellion due to his own paranoia was a poor decision, he was suffering for it. There wasn't really an explanation for what Malineer did next, he broke character- but he didn't see a need to keep his Facade any longer. With a grizzled "RAUGH!" He yanked free the terminal from It's holding and slung it behind him with as much strength as he could muster, enough to smash it into pieces with a loud clatter. He appeared different now, his rage had flushed his system and broken his illusion, he appeared as a Sith naturally would, his eyes burning red, skin paled and lined with darken veins.

"Right, so...Enough games, no need for a Facade. Captain, My name is Darth Serpentius- I am not going to whip out a weapon and start trying to stab people or throw things- excluding that terminal there...but I am going to ask a few questions, and I do so hope we can find an understanding." Malineer returned to calm as he explained himself, he spoke quickly so that he couldn't be interrupted, a hypnotic droning as he made way for the Kaffa machine and set to work making himself a cup. "Call the pink one in- and where do you keep your cream?"

---
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"]
[member="Thraxis"]
[member="Cadan Tazi"]​

 

[Thraxis]

Thraxis had made himself scarce, he needed to brush up on what weapons were, the mistaking of a plunger for a rusted cutlass was a mistake made by few and far between. He wandered around the halls, he had borrowed a 'weapon' from one of the other Pirates on the ship, a look of relief awash as he thought finally his message to the HR department for a weapon that was not a long Stick with a tooth pick on the end which was loosely refereed to as a 'spear' by Racist Randy. And the other weapon he borrowed from another, a short Hairbrush that had slightly pointed edges. Slowly the pieces started to fall into place. "I don't think Racist Randy has been supplying our men with very good weapons. Or even a weapon." he said as he returned the weapons to the two crippled invalids, one walked with a limp, the other looked more akin to a potato then to a person. Or maybe Randy has just been supplying the handicapped members of the crew with insufficient weaponry.

After the weapons were returned he heard it, the clang of metal driving itself against a wall, the shorting of a short lived electricity rushing through the air as he sighed, "Gonna need to get the mechanic to fix that one." he grumbled as he made his way towards Flannigan and Malineer, hoping that Flannigan hadn't finally snapped from the insufferable boredom that was this venture.
[member="Flannigan Mcnash"] [member="Malineer"]