Private The Crystal Caper

[Rance Draysom]

Zipthar System, Outer Asteroid Belt
Offworld Mining Corporation Outpost

There were no two ways about it. The Verge Flotilla was pretty much out of money... right when they desperately needed to buy supplies.

Fleet Marshal Rance Draysom had been in situations like this on his own before, back when he was drifting across the Outer Rim trading, scavenging, and smuggling to get by. He'd learned to make do without the things he couldn't afford; to eat less, to cut out luxuries like alcohol, to jury rig equipment too expensive to repair. But that had been when he'd only been responsible for himself. It was a lot harder to ask a family of refugees, their small, hollow-eyed children staring hopefully up at you, to go without food for the day. After the riots, after everything that had happened on Rychel, Rance knew he had to do whatever it took to keep that from happening again.

And that meant finding money, money to keep them all fed and flying. The Flotilla had pretty much nothing left to trade, so that meant a cargo run... and the only cargoes that could make you a lot of credits in a short amount of time were illegal. Fortunately, the fleet was passing through the Dalonbian Sector, and that put them right next to a source of rare and heavily restricted cargo: the Zipthar System, home of Zipthar hexa-crystals. Appreciated both for their unique beauty and their internal prism lattice, useful in all sorts of projectors and beam weapons, hexa-crystals were highly regulated by most sector governments... leading to a lively black market.

Lately, the legal trade in hexa-crystals was dominated by the Offworld Mining Corporation, which had operated in the region for centuries. They controlled the extraction and sale of virtually all of the crystals. Of course, Rance didn't have any money to buy hexa-crystals with. Instead, he was going to have to steal them... and he needed a reliable scoundrel by his side when he did. That was why he'd reached out to Jim Pehico , a man he'd briefly met at the Flotilla's founding celebration. Jim had a reputation as a guy who could handle himself in a fight... and talk his way out of anything. That was the kind of partner that Rance needed for this mission.

Rance was letting Jim fly this one; he'd heard that the guy was a great pilot, and so far it was looking to be true. From the copilot's seat, the Fleet Marshal turned to Jim. "Okay, we'll be dropping out of hyperspace in the Zipthar system shortly. Let's talk about how we want to play this one. Offworld Corp is famously brutal; borderline slave conditions for their workers, and trigger-happy private security to boot. We could try to talk our way in, pretend we're interested buyers until we get our chance to strike. Or we could try to sneak in, go dark and steal some crates before they know we're there. Or we can try to shoot our way in."

Rance shrugged. "It's just the two of us, so we've got to be careful, but I'll go with whatever plan you think is best."

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim had only been with the Verge Flotilla for a short amount of time before his first real mission happened. Tired of the big factions Jim decided to settle down with someone a bit smaller but growing everyday. The Verge Flotilla was dying though this growth along with the riots made this operation unsustainable meaning they need to make credits quickly, something Jim Pehico is quite familiar with. Rance Draysom , head of the Verge Flotilla, debriefed him on the situation quickly as they were approaching the destination "Boss, I'm going to tell you about a little something called... Pehicoism." Jim said dramatically. "The reason I never get caught is because the concept of Pehicoism. The three laws of Pehicoism are as follows..." Jim raised three fingers , lowering a finger after each rule was listed. "One, Never have a too detailed plan, because it never works out exactly. Two, Have your good actions match... around the amount of bad actions. And last but not least, let's just have fun with it." Jim grinned. To the average person Jim would seem insane particularly with that last rule but when you've been in the smuggling business long enough you'll eventually start losing your mind. Jim thought for a minute,

"The gist of the plan is this though, we sneak in My Astromech droid, R2-3Z will land and deal with the hangar guards while we sneak out through the landing gear. We get to the control room, and we find out where they store the crystals. Now here's where Pehicoism comes to our advantage, We open up the guards armory and the crystal storage, but we also free the slaves. We go on the intercom directing the slaves to the armory, at this time the guards will split into 3 groups, 1 to take over the control room, 1 to take over the armory, and 1 to secure the hangar bays, with any luck we'll only need to deal with the hangar bay group. And as the first law of Pehicoism states... this is all subject to change." Just as Jim finished explaining the plan, they exited light speed and entered the Zipthar System.

 

[Rance Draysom]

Rance listened, one eyebrow raised bemusedly, as Jim laid out his principles. This guy was a character, that was for sure. He was younger than the Fleet Marshal was, and full of the kind of exuberant self-confidence that could carry you a long way in the galaxy... or get you killed in a hurry. Rance would just have to hope that, for that day at least, the result would be the former. He paid close attention to the man's plan, nodding along to show that he understood. He was more than content to let someone else take the lead for a while.

"Okay," Rance said, nodding a final time. "Got it. Let's hope this works." As the ship dropped out of hyperspace, the drifting asteroids of the Zipthar system sprang into view all around them. Some ancient disaster had blown apart whatever planets might have formed in the system millions - maybe billions - of years ago, and now only ring after ring of huge, drifting rocks orbited the local star. Just ahead of them, through the debris, Rance could make out navigational buoys, covered in blinking red and white lights. Those would lead them to the mine.

The ship rocked gently as small chunks of asteroid pinged off its hull, probably scratching the paint job, but there was good news: the interference from the dense cloud of moving rocks all around them probably meant that Offworld would have a difficult time picking them up with a sensor sweep. A few more twists and turns, and there it was: the primary asteroid mining compound. A few droid cargo shuttles floated around a hangar and a cluster of bubble-like buildings, probably dormitories built over the mining tunnels.

Rance checked his blaster; there was a very good chance that he was going to have to use it a lot in the next hour or two. "Okay," he told Jim, "we're close enough to start your plan. You're putting a lot of faith in that little droid of yours; I hope he's up to the task." Rance didn't know if the Offworld guards would shoot on sight, but he could be sure that they wouldn't be happy to see intruders. If he and Jim were spotted, they were almost certainly in for a tough fight, and getting captured and put to work in the mine would be as bad as death.

But this wasn't his first time putting his life on the line to help the Flotilla survive. He'd face whatever he had to.

Jim Pehico​

 

[Jim Pehico]

Jim looked over at Rance and laughed. "Threasy and I go way back, I would trust him with my life." Jim grabbed a concealed commlink "Threasy you there?" the droid whistled back acknowledging him. Jim spoke into the commlink "We're doing plan Tango Foxtrot Lima with a swoop and scoop. going dark got that buddy?" he put the commlink back. He looked back at Rance. "The plan Stands for Thieve Free and Leave. That's simple. Swoop and scoop means that he leaves when the guards tell him to, lands on a nearby asteroid and shut down all systems. Then goes dark until we're ready for pickup." Jim reaches back in his pocket and takes a swig from his flask. Jim leads the way towards the hanging gear as R2-3Z takes over the cockpit. As the landing gear opens up Jim leads the way crawling down the landing gear quickly signaling to Rance it was safe. crouching towards the an open shipment container Jim leads the 2 scoundrels as guards walk up to his ship.

"Open up in there." A guard yells knocking on the ship. the ramp lowers to show an astromech in the doorway. "We didn't have any shipments scheduled for this hour. Who do you work for." The droid whistles as he rolled down the ramp. "Bostadian Industries? We don't have any orders from Ord Bostadus until six cycles from now." The guard said looking at the datapad. "you two," He said pointing to the guards accompanying him. "check the ship make sure there isn't anything sketchy. Then you will have to leave." The droid beeped back angrily. "Well you tell your master I don't karking care." The guard said back kicking the astromech. The guard walked off mumbling to himself "Stupid astro-droid..."

Jim looked back at Rance "That was the hard part." Jim said he looked out and noticed the 2 guards that had been checking his ship were about to walk by. Jim looked over to Rance. "Well Rance you get the right one." Jim said as he was getting ready to pounce.

Rance Draysom

 

[Rance Draysom]

Jim's confidence was infectious, and soon Rance found himself believing it too: this crazy plan might just work. He'd pulled a lot of strange jobs in his time, but hiding in the landing gear was new to him. The Fleet Marshal hardly dared to breathe as he slid into the small opening, holding on for dear life as the ship completed its docking procedure. Then, following Jim's lead, he quickly slipped down the metal strut and crouched behind a crate, taking in the scene. So far, so good - the two security guards were focused fully on the loading ramp.

As Jim's astromech played its part of the deception, Rance took in the hangar bay. The huge, high-ceilinged space was all built of gleaming silver durasteel, and looked as if it could accommodate eight or ten transports at a time; there might not be any shipments going out at that exact moment, but when orders were flowing in and Offworld needed to move a lot of product, Rance was sure that this place would be crowded. Half a dozen inactive binary loadlifters sat against one wall, ready to carry cargo as soon as a ship came in to receive it.

The droid played its part flawlessly, and soon the two security guards had been maneuvered into place - and distracted from the two scoundrels who were waiting to take them down. Rance nodded at Jim, readying his blaster. Thinking a moment, he flicked the switch over to the stun setting. These guys might be complicit in the terrible conditions Offworld had for their indentured workers, and they'd probably fry him given half a chance, but he didn't need more of the faces of people he'd killed to come and haunt his nightmares. He had enough.

As soon as it looked like Jim was ready too, Rance sprang the trap. He stepped around the corner of the crate, coming face to face with the shocked Offworld guard. His blaster was pressed right into the logo on the guard's uniform, a silver ship in front of a red planet, and he fired at point blank. The blue burst of nonlethal stun energy slammed into the guard, and he collapsed in a heap, knocked out cold. By the time he came to, Rance and Jim would be long gone... if everything else went to plan. And when was the last time that'd happened?

Rance turned to see the aftermath of Jim's attack on the other guard, wondering how his companion had handled it.

Jim Pehico​

 

[Jim Pehico]

Almost like it was choreographed Jim jumped out the same time Rance did. He first covered the guards mouth followed by a quick pistol whip to the back of his head. As the guard began to fall Jim looked over as he stunned the guard. Jim grinned "Nothing like doing it the old fashioned way." He dragged his guard into the shipment container. Jim analyzed the guard. "Hmmm..." Jim hummed as he was in deep thought. Jim closed his eyes as he started stroking his chin. "yes... yes... got it!" Jim exclaimed. the guard Jim was in charge of taking care of started moaning, apparently woken up by Jim's exclamation. Jim sighed and quickly kicked him in the head, knocking the guard back out. "Well I suppose the old fashioned way is a bit out of style." He said looking down at his pistol while setting the thing to stun. Jim stunned the guard's limp body, quickly jerking as the stun blast reached him. Jim squatted near the guards body. "Anyways I got the plan. This guard seems to be about either one of our sizes. So here's how I figure. One of us is a guard while the other is a contactor here to do routine maintenance on the control room's system or we could just keep sneaking about and hopefully no one sees us. I'll leave this one to you boss." Jim said with a smile.

Rance Draysom

 

[Rance Draysom]

Thankfully, the ambush had gone smoothly; both guards - after a little extra intervention by Jim - lay slumped at their feet. It was easy to drag the two of them behind a pile of crates; with no shipments due to arrive or depart for hours, the hangar was all but empty, and it would be quite some time before anyone discovered the pair. Unless there was high enough security that they were expected to check in regularly over comms, or unless a shift change had been scheduled, or unless... Rance made himself stop. His worries weren't helping.

They would have to move quickly, and hope that speed would keep any of those possibilities from happening until they were gone. Rance pondered the plan that Jim had come up with, then nodded his agreement. "Good idea, just might work." He sized up the guards, then looked at Jim and himself. Jim was two inches taller and a good forty pounds heavier than the Fleet Marshal; it looked like the uniform would be a better fit for Rance. "Okay. I'll play guard if you can talk your way into the control room. Hopefully they won't look too close."

Working quickly, Rance stripped the guard closest to his size down to his boxers, then pulled on the uniform, leaving his own clothes in a pile back on the ship. The coarse navy blue fabric was itchy and unpleasant to wear, and reeked of someone else's sweat, but it just might get them inside. He took the guard's blaster, too, since it would stand out less than his own modified heavy pistol. Ready at last, the two of them headed to the exit from the hangar bay, ready to go deeper into the facility. Into the kath hound's den, Rance reflected grimly.

The hallway beyond was much more crowded. Offworld Corp personnel - some of them stiff-necked guards, some beaten-down laborers in filthy grey jumpsuits - were headed in all directions, heading off to their next shift or pushing hovercarts of ore to storage. In the commotion, no one noticed them... at least until they reached the control room doors, where a pair of combat droids armed with blaster rifles stood watch. "Stop," said one of the droids, holding up a durasteel hand. "This is a restricted area. Present your identification immediately."

Rance swallowed hard, hand gently resting on his blaster. He really, really hoped Jim Pehico could talk his way past.