Stow aways

[Grundark]

The signs had been everywhere, little fires among the crew that just couldn't be stomped out no matter how many bodies were thrown out an airlock. They were just getting angrier, and sneakier. Fear and the access codes to the credit accounts were all that kept the ship for flying apart for the last month, but that wouldn't last forever. Greed would have worked longer then fear, but the Captain kept the purse strings tightly clenched until they hit shore. Even in his self righteous rage he knew he was pressing them to their limits. He needed one big haul then back to port to hire on new hands, hands that he didn't have to fear would wrap around his neck in his sleep. For now loyal ones were the only ones with keys to the armory, such the fear. Still the odds were stacking at least three to one at this point.

For Grundark it was all a risk, he didn't give a damn about his current Captain, but he also didn't want to lose his head in the fighting that was to come. It was the Captain's fault really, Old Jim had been a popular cook, harmless in his age, but bold of mouth when he was drinking. it's true he called the Captain out, but sending a harmless old man out into the void of space through an airlock was an extreme response for a few drunk words. From there it was just little things that might even have been handled with a bit of humility, but as far as the Captain was considered no one was challenging his authority on his ship. Within the week five more bodies were floating behind the ship among the stars. Now they spoke in whispers and sharpened tools waiting for the next haul, after all, that's when the armory be unlocked for all of them. Besides they'd have enough wares then to stock the ship up, fight out among themselves who was the next Captain and maybe even make it back alive. It was the first time the Cragmoloid ever hoped the trip would just come out with nothing.

He had four who'd joined him from his last ship, and hoped to escape this mess alive. The only four he could trust on the whole karking ship. It was their first trip out with this crew and neither side really trusted them, so no matter who won things weren't looking good for them. They had a rudimentary plan, which was about the best they could hope for. It involved a whole lot of luck, and a good amount of on the fly implementing. It was a feth ton better then nothing though. Besides the trip was almost over, and if they hit port they'd get off and sign on somewhere a bit less volatile. When the lights aboard the ship flashed to red though they all stopped moving at once though and looked at each other, the Captain had found a target. "All hands to stations, we've got a ship responding to our call for help. Looks to be a decent size transport. I repeat all hands report to stations, now."

The five of them glanced among themselves and Grundark nodded once, this was the time. No matter how this thing ended it was going to turn ugly quickly if the armory was opened up. If it wasn't well kark, it still could go ugly. Moving along the corridor towards the docking tube Grundark kept the lead while the others knotted behind him watching his back. No one stayed in his way for more then a second as he continued onward barely paying attention to the scurrying in front of him. Emotions were high, but no one was staying in front of a monster like Grundark, it just wasn't good for one's life expectancy.

The docking bay itself was crowded with most of the ship's crew, a clear line of empty space showed the division between the two sides though. To the left the Captain's loyal core, ten well armed men in body armor each with a mean streak of their own. The bulk of the crew though was nearly two dozen men, with just the clothes on their backs and various make shift weapons. There was a lot of moving inside of the group, but no one dared to push the line.They might take out the core, but most of them were going down with them if they made their move now. Besides why rush, the Captain always opened up the armory just before they boarded a ship. As the loading docked clicked a solid lock though the Cragmoloid watched the realization hit the main part of the crew. The armory wasn't going to be opened this time.

Grumbling and mummers could be heard among them as the First Mate yelled over them. "Alright, lads, we all know this our last score together so lets not pretend to be overly fond of each other. They'll be no weapons handed out today, get in there beat the ones who fight back and take the rest in collars. Do your jobs and you'll still receive your full pay, try anything funny and the ones who live through this will go home empty handed or out an airlock. I don't care about your gripes with the Captain, but I'll be damned if I'm going to die so you can have a chat with him about it. Now get a move on before we decide it is just as easy for us to go do this job ourselves."

With that the core leveled their weapons at the crew, seems the Captain wasn't quite as crazy as they'd all thought, or maybe the First Officer just had more sense then loyalty. There were plenty among the crew who wanted to resist even some ripples along the line that separated the two groups, but a half dozen scatter guns wasn't something they were willing to dare, yet. Finally a knocking sound could be heard from the other side of the lock, and those closest to the door with a vile look turned their anger to the all too helpful strangers on the other side. Pulling the door open the man on the other side barely got his scream out before the slavers were moving through him crushing him under their feet as they charged into the transport. Grundark held his few men back while the others charged forward careful not to look at the core while he waited for an opening. The last thing they needed was the core thinking the new boys were sizing them up, this whole damn thing was complicated enough already.

They followed closely behind though once there was a clear opening passing, several heavily injured passengers lay unconscious or dead on the other side of the doors. Damaged goods, a bad business practice for any slaver. Much more concerning was the sign of carbon damage from a blaster on one of the far walls. As he got to the doorway leading out he found one of the slavers dead from several blaster shots, but no blasters anywhere to be seen. It was a bad sign, and might be enough firepower to make the ones on the edge brave. They didn't follow the others into the belly of the ship though, his guys were here for more technical stuff, and hiding the evidence. They'd blow a hole in the airlocks, or damage the power cells to cause an accident, maybe a navigational error in the system to send the ship into the nearest star. Something to keep others from questioning why a ship never arrived to port, and to keep the slavers under the radar. Today though the plan was different, today they were going to use this thing to take them as far away as possible. They were expecting to take a few hits from the slavers guns before they hit light speed, but with luck the slavers would be too busy trying to live to even realize what was going on.

Each member went about their own job quickly checking on systems as Grundark waited for the crew to come down and do a final sweep. After ten minutes without a sweep though he knew something was up, a thousand situations entered his mind, but which one was most likely he didn't know. There were no sounds at all aboard the ship actually, not even an echo from the screaming above. That never happened, ever. "Jitters, come with me we're going to the cockpit. I've got a bad feeling we're already missing the show. The rest of you make ready to leave as soon as he kicks the engines on, we're going to need shields and navigation data as soon as that happens. Pretty boy, be in position to seal this ship up, but stay safe."

With a quick pace the Cragmoloid moved through the empty corridors, a few splatters of blood and some dead bodies but not a single living one greeted them as they moved towards the front of the ship. Jitters half ran behind him as he tried to keep up, A few corpses along the way had been killed by blaster fire, both passengers and slavers. They'd lost about five men by the look of it, but they'd taken at least that many weapons back with them to the ship with the slaves. If they fighting wasn't already underway they were just waiting for the right moment to start it, maybe they were hoping the core would let down it's guard a bit with the job done. He damn sure knew there was no stopping the mutiny now though, there were plenty dead, but it looked like they'd taken a good haul. Plenty of credits to be made here.

Finally they made the cockpit as Jitters moved between a dozen readings and the four chairs, "Their bleeding, boss, that's why they answered our call. They were in need of help as much as we claimed to be, just different problems. They've got enough juice for one jump, and that's it." He didn't look Grundark in the face as he talked his hands rubbing together in nervousness as he considered the issues. As soon as they touched an instrument though they calmed and his leg started shaking. He was a good pilot, hell he could have been great, but deathsticks had left him a wreck long ago.

"That's fine, get us to the nearest system we can scrap this thing in, you see anything on the sensors to let you know whats going on in the ship?"

Charting a course as he glanced across sensor readings he opened his mouth to answer, but a call came across their frequency before he could. "Boss, we need to move now! I got to the clamps, but they're already fighting and dying on the other side. The core is pushing them back this way, if we don't seal up now, we're gonna have a lot of guests."

Of course, they'd fight right at the karking connection, the crew could use the slaves as a barricade for the scatter guns. "Seal up now, and get me the shields up as soon as we are. Jitters, whatever you've got punch it now before they vent this ship and us with it." He waited for a few heartbeats while a the others went into action, his life completely out of his own hands as he waited for the guns aboard their old ship to turn on them and the best he could hope for was just not to feel it. Kark, maybe he was already dead his brain just hadn't caught up to it yet. Then the ship lurched as the engines kicked on warning lights flickering on as the ship's power cells started bleeding out. A moment later the stars vanished into lines then they were in hyperspace, maybe he wasn't dead after all.

It lasted for less then five minutes before the warning klaxon went off and the ship stalled back into real space. "That's it, boss, that's all she's got without losing life support. We're gonna need to activate the SOS and hitch a ride outta here though, she just doesn't have the juice to turn the engines back on without blacking out the ship. Good news is we reached one of the lanes, plenty of traffic to stop and help." With a grunt the over large monster showed his displeasure, still they were alive, and he doubted many more of the crew were right now. Seems the First Mate had his own plan all along, and knowing the Captain's greed he wasn't part of it.

"Activate the beacon, lets get this over with. The rest of you check this ship over and see if you can find anything useful before we leave it behind." Hopefully whoever rescued them didn't want to come aboard, but if they did he'd deal with that when the time came. At least they were still alive, for now at least.

 

[Grundark]

Three days, three long nerve racking days and still no one was responding to their beckon. The first day had been a blur of activity between hiding bodies, cleaning up the blood and checking the cargo to see what exactly they had on their hands. A small cache of credits and a few blaster pistols had set them up nicely, nothing Grundark himself could use, but as a whole they were better off then they started. The second day they relaxed confident that rescue would come soon, and talked nonsense about what came next after the rescue and how to make the most of the situation. The third day Jitters kept wringing his hands as he glanced over the power supply, never a good sign. He always kept his hands busy, tinkering and the like, anything that kept his mind and hands focused on something. If he was staring at the numbers though it meant there was something worth worrying about.

At the end of the third day he waved the Cragmoloid over to him and finally gave the bad news. "We've got about two days left, tops. I mean, I uh, I mean for power to the systems. After that the lights go out and the air stops filtering. I could umm, I could try to cut off some power now and maybe we'd get some more time. We could, uh, seal off some of the um ship, and um it get darker and colder, but we'd get a few more days out of it. That's it though, I mean, anything more then that and I can't push 'em any farther. I uh, I'm sorry, Boss."

So now the five of them were crammed in to the dimmed ship, the chill of space barely kept at bay as they sat eating unheated food to give them a bit more time. The only thing that was at full power was the emergency beacon blaring to anyone who'd hear that they needed help. Normally Grundark would have worried knowing how close the slavers were, but there was no way they were doing anything but limping home to fight another day with whatever cargo remained. The power cutting had bought them a full week, but if it was going to be a miserable week for all of them. Hell, as long as it wasn't their last week he supposed they'd endure it.

They'd piled on the layers and huddled up around the warmest body in the room, the Cragmoloid. As for Grundark himself he just focused on his frustration at the entire situation as he tried to grab onto the Force and use it to keep him warm. It wasn't to any avail though, he'd had about as much training and practice as a babe when it came to the Force. It was something he aught to remedy, but simply had never had the patience for. Still as the hours slowly past he could feel his aggravation building into anger, and that was an emotion he'd used to touch the Force before. Rage, anger, and best of all battle rage, the pure unbridled joy of combat. it was a raw thing though, uncontrolled and without purpose, but it did make him feel alive. With the cold slowly seeping into his bones it was a feeling he could use that though, and so he focused trying to light a fire within himself even if only to remind him he was alive for at least this moment.

 

[Grundark]

The incoming call of salvation came the fifth day, and for a moment it was all a confusing blur to the Cragmoloid. His knees hurt when he stood, and as the five began to move he could hear their groans around him as joints stiffened by days doing nothing had set in. Coupled with minimal rationing on both food and water it took them all a bit of a minute to focus on the issue at hand. The ship lights came back on slowly with the cold that had built inside the circuits, but when the glare was piercing to the eyes even without full power. The air scrubbers kicked into high the new stale air suddenly making their own odor so much more apparent. It gave more legitimacy to them though, no one was going to check over a dead ship straight away in the state they were in. So the bodies were at least safely hidden for the moment.

The blaster pistols were all hidden, no need to make their rescuers nervous. Besides there was always the chance they'd need them later, and at the moment they wouldn't be able to put up a good fight. Jitters and Garrett went ahead to met their rescue at the docking seal, Grundark might call the shots in the small group but he was far from the mouth. Garrett had a pretty face, and the ladies said he had prettier eyes, gorram man could charm stars from the sky they said. Much better then a monster for a first sight, and as harmless as Jitters looked no one would ever think they were who they were. At least that was the idea.

They followed the other two after giving them a few minutes, only a pair of bags and the clothes on their back were needed really. Everything else they owned was locked up in safe houses or back on board their old ship. Grundark did the best he could to simply look dumb and harmless as they stumbled on the other ship. He felt weak from the hunger to be honest away so it wasn't much of a show, large monsters requires large meals after all. The rest of the day was a blur of food, showers and sleep as their saviors appeared to be quite the compassionate. The dark part inside Grundark's mind never stopped though as he looked over the number of passengers and their value. Ship was decent enough too for their needs. Still he felt a bit out of place for his thoughts, he wasn't used to the kindness and it threw him off, from the looks of his crew it threw them all off.

When they finally got a bunk and some solitude for the night Garrett spilled what he had found out, and it pleased the darker side of Grundark immensely. "It's a refugee ship headed out to a low population world, decently well supplied from the look of it. Whoever the Order is they supplied the pilot and guy in charge for these runs, but they are letting people from all over the place come in a bit at a time. Ship is in good shape, not fancy but well taken care of. Seems a bit rough as some Jedi Order or some such is supplying the credits, but if we can make it all vanish there is quite a profit on board. Three families all bunked in one of the other dorm wings. The captain and pilot have their own quarters but pretty easy to seal the bulk of 'em in. The captain is armed but outside of that I think it would be an easy score. Of course they also said they could just drop us off on the way, so if we wanted to just find a new ship to sign up on it wouldn't be hard."

He trailed off towards the end as they each squirmed with the possibilities a bit. Normally it would be an easy decision, get a ship with enough stock on board to refuel and maybe even make a go of working for themselves. There was something to being rescued though that caused them all to stop for a moment and consider. It wasn't a change of heart, Jitters was the closest to a good person among them, but he didn't flinch for a moment as long as he didn't have to do the wet works himself. Garrett looked sweet as honey, but he enjoyed the finer things the job bought him. That left Xar a Trandoshan who enjoyed the hunt of slaving as much as anyone. He was the groups heavy gun, and he never flinched pulling the trigger, ever. Druan, a Twi'lek who he'd convinced to join them from a previous job, was a bit out of his element as well. When it came to selling slaves though he knew a hundred places that were always looking and managed to get quite a profit most of the time. He hadn't been thrilled at the idea of joining as a grunt on their last trip, but the idea of their own ship and a first mate spot had been enough to make him join up. Now this was their chance for a ship and a good first score, only question was were they going to do it.

Letting the rage stem up Grundark knew they would because that was his decision in the end, he was the boss, he'd be a Captain. "We'll sleep later, it's time to get us a ship."

 

[Grundark]

The ship lights were lower then normal as everyone lay tucked in their bunks, no idea of the evil they'd invited aboard. Blasters in hand they moved through the ship breaking up into groups as they moved. Two headed towards the main bunks to seal in the families, they'd be easier to deal with once they were hungry. They'd never even know what happened till they went to leave in the morning, and from inside they couldn't cause any fuss. Jitters headed towards the cockpit to take control of the ship. He'd need the code to unlock the controls, but that wouldn't take too long once they had the pilot. That left Grundark and Garrett as they moved towards the private rooms.

The captain of the ship was coming out of his room just as they reached it. His tired eyes took too long to realize the danger he was in, and by the time he did there was already a blaster pressed against him. "Tough break, friend, it seems as much as we appreciate the ride we'd intended on a different destination. Being such a courteous host I'm sure you'd be happy to give us the codes to the cockpit though so we can get home. Well that and your security code for the ship, after all it's the courteous thing."

Grundark didn't wait for the answer as he moved into the room across the hall into the pilot's room. His bulk blocked out most of the light until he took a few steps in and got right over the pilot's bed. Moving one of his massive feet over the side of the bed and laying it on the man's chest he work with a start as breathing became quite difficult. "Codes to your cockpit, now."

Letting up just a small amount so the man could answer it was obvious by his face he simply hadn't pulled everything together enough to answer, but Grundark didn't give him the chance to do that. Shock was a massively effective weapon when used correctly. Pushing back down with his foot he waited a minute before speaking again. "Your code now, speak it into the comms, last chance." With his first breath the pilot gave it up, the realization of how close death was overriding anything else at that point. The Cragmoloid waited until Jitters confirmed he was in before moving his foot off the pilot.

Grabbing his arm he pulled the man with him as he walked back towards the captain and tossed him at the man's feet. "If you both follow my instructions you get to live through this. Fight your fate once, and I'll stomp the life out of you. If you know anything about my people you know one simple truth. We don't lie. If I say you have once chance, you have one only. You're going to sign over this ship legally, and give us all security codes so we can change them to our own. This is my ship now, one way or the other. The only difference is the price. The hard way will cost me some credits, and you your lives. So accept your fate, or end it here. Choose. Your pilot already choose to live, I'd suggest you follow suit."

To his credit the Captain hadn't agreed on the easy way until after several broken bones. There was no going back though even after the ship was transferred to a fake name, after all he'd already wasted his one chance. He was dragged to the main bunks before being finished. One ugly display to smother the thoughts of fighting back from the cattle. It was bad enough losing one he could have sold, there was no need to lose anymore profit then that.