Private The Edge of Nowhere

[Ronan Calore]

Ronan remained silent, and with a silent movement pressed the beckon call on his wrist gauntlet, calling the Mercurial Dawn over from the spaceport.

Not much at all would be said by the mercenary, he was content to let everyone do their introductions while he watched, just for a moment relieved to be away from the immediate threat of the Empire. Ronan decided to run a quick check of his inventory, making sure he was well prepared if this ship went down.

“Two Westars, the carbine, one S-5, one hold-out blaster, 2 vibro-knives.” Ronan took comfort in knowing that his weapons were all on his person, they were the only constant in his life, besides cantinas that was.

 

[Hector Vale]

Hector grinned at Aleksandr Stirsea . “Didn’t catch my name when the Inquisitor was shouting it? Hector Vale. Nice to meet you, Aleks.” He asked no permission for the usage of a nickname.

Hector nodded at the drunk, though he was rather wary to trust such a man as his pilot, it seemed he had little choice. “If you say so, sir. What’s your name?” he asked this as respectfully as he could, keeping with his Master’s teachings. “Treat all beings with kindness, Padawan, and most will repay you in kind.”

Hector took another long look at Daven’s saber, feeling its weight in his hand. He was not suited to it, but neither did he trust a drunkard, a mercenary, or an untrained kid to wield it. He tucked it away.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

"This really the time you all want to play damned icebreakers?" He questioned the two teens, stepping up the ramp and exchanging the captured saber for an injector he pulled from a container by the entrance to the ship, stuffing the lightsaber into his robe as he popped the cap from the device. First he hit the nearest panel with his elbow and set the ramp to closing, then he promptly plunged the injector into his neck. The metal was cold and sharp, the fluid in pumped into his veins thick and viscous, all in all it was, as expected, agonizing. But Cale grit his teeth and took it whilst the drug did its work.

The pain from it and the wounded faded, and the cloudy haze of drunkenness receded if temporarily. Cale needed his wits about him, and as he regarded the strangers he'd foolishly taken into his ship, he realized they might as well have a name. If it'd stop them from calling him 'spacer' then he'd take it at this point.

"Cale. Now find something resembling a seat and strap the hell in." He commanded, giving a look to both Aleksandr Stirsea and Hector Vale . As for Ronan Calore he didn't care. The man could do as he pleased as long as he didn't shoot them. Cale shoved past the boys and rushed for the cockpit, panic beginning to set in as he heard the whine of TIES once again.

"Tup those engines better be hot like I told you to keep 'em and you best be on this fething bucket of bolts, if you're not I am leaving you behind!" He called out through the ship. He could sense Tup Tup Bimbam was there, that much wasn't genuinely in question, but if the engines had remained primed was another matter altogether. Thankfully, as the spacer barreled into the cockpit, he found all the systems live just as he'd left them. There was no time for hesitation, and he tossed the spent injector to the side without any regard. Cale threw himself into his seat, and brought the freighter to life.

In an instant, she jolted up, lurching up from the ground as Cale increased power to engines and the throttle. He almost let himself feel hopeful as they cleared the launch pad and began to move, but then a series of harsh jolts shook the ship, and the freighter faltered to one side. Alarms began to blare instantly as he found to stabilize her, allowing the force to flow once again as to flip switches and nobs that he otherwise couldn't. They'd been hit by the TIES, he'd known as much as soon as the jolt hit them, even if he hadn't heard it. From the cockpit he watched them streak past, pulling around for another pass as he wrestled the stick to keep the freighter from crashing into a building bold enough to be more than three stories tall.

And of course, he raised the damned deflector shields. Steadying the ship, he hammered the throttle, and the engines roared in compliance. All at once the freighter began to truly move. As the TIES looped back, Cale weaved between the barrage of their blasters, twisting the freighter between the bolts of emerald green as he brought the ship ever skyward. The fighters gave chase of course, falling in behind him and firing away. A few blasts glanced off the shields, but Gunderson was no amateur. He rolled the ship as though it were an X-Wing, using the spiral to weave away from the assault to his craft.

For a man who'd been fighting like a sloppy drunk, he didn't fly like one. But for all his acrobatics, he knew that in order to jump they'd need the TIES to back off or be destroyed, and given that those who flew outdated machines like that over backwaters like this in service of Inquisitors had absolutely nothing to lose. Even as the alarms went on, his eyes darted to his radar, and he could already tell that what hung in orbit waiting was but a small cruiser.

They'd outrun that easy, and given it would've needed to haul the transport that'd no doubt deployed the Inquisitor, that only left room for two fighters, which of course were hot on their tales.

"If any of you wanna live, get up and man a gun now! We aren't going anywhere until we nail those TIES!" He called back to his passengers, wherever the were in the hold. They could hear him, he was loud enough for that to be for sure. Then with a flick of a switch, he brought the weapons systems to life, including the chin mounted gun he'd had installed just for himself. Even now, Cale was still a dogfighter.

 

[Aleksandr Stirsea]

Aleksandr had been a fool if he thought the motley group of outcasts could escape Cadomai without a scuffle. The screech of TIE fighters sent him into fight or flight mode, but there was nowhere to flee. That left option one. Cale, despite whatever ailments he should've been experiencing from his lack of an arm and previous drunken state, flew like an ace in the cockpit. This wasn't your average cargo runner, not even your average smuggler, his ability to dodge constant laser fire and maneuver the tight squeezes of the airspace marked him a man with real experience. When Cale called for backup Aleks knew there was no time to hesitate. A moment spent in thought was another moment Sith gunners could send them spiraling out of orbit, and he didn't want to see the results of that crash.

Aleksandr sprinted down the hard metal corridors of the light freighter, his black boots echoing his footfalls through the ship. A series of blasts rocked the vessel, but the street rat kept his balance, finding the entrance to one of the starships laser turrets and entering. He took the seat and grabbed hold of the firing and aiming module, spinning around as he tried to get a feel for technology he was unprepared to use. Another splashing of green lasers exploded on the deflector shields, but Aleks had already figured out how to aim by then. Swiveling the laser cannon to face the oncoming TIE pursuers, Aleksandr pressed down on the red buttons used for loosing plasma, and molten green lasers flashed out in response. The TIE he was aiming at instantly blackened where the lasers had hit their mark, but still it continued its hot pursuit of the freighter. Aleksandr breathed in and out, trying to tap into this power he had never known he was capable of. He called for the Force, and the Force called back. Pressing down on the glowing red buttons, emerald lasers whipped out of the cannon and the TIE fighter spun out of control, engulfing itself in flame after a perfect shot to the engine. It seemed Aleksandr wasn't only a good shot with a heavy blaster pistol.

"Oh yeah!" He exulted aloud, looking down at his hands in amazement. "Did you see that, Cale? Did you see that?" He screamed into the hallways of the ship.

 

[Hector Vale]

Hector’s athleticism paid off as he ran to a cannon, noticing a distinct lack of turbulence. Cale was no less than a prodigal pilot. Clearly there is more to this man than just the drink and the attitude, Hector thought for a moment before remembering his goal.

Hector heard Aleks give a triumphant shout, and a smile appeared on the young Padawan’s face. “Good work, Aleks! I’ve got the other!” Hector had manned cannons before, these couldn’t be too hard to get used to.

Hector lined up his first shot hastily, barely missing the fighter. On his next two, he took deep breaths, focusing on aim rather than speed, and it paid off. The fighter was nearly down.

A confident smile came to Hector’s face. The fighter would be down in no time. He pressed down on the button anxiously, but the opposing pilot was good, breaking into an aileron roll at the last moment. Hector’s smile waned a little, but brightened back up as his next shot hit its mark, directly to the center where the pilot was located, no doubt giving quite a shock to the trooper.

Hector seized the opportunity that the previous shot provided, quickly firing again to no avail. He slowed for a moment, before feeling a shake. They had been hit, and it was his fault. There is no chaos, there is harmony, he reminded himself. His eyes closed, hands shaking a bit, as he reached out in the force.

All around him, Hector felt connections. The enthusiastic energy of Aleks burned brighter than the others, but all the living beings on the ship emanated an aura. His eyes were closed, but he saw the TIE clearer than he had before. Hector breathed in deeply, pressing the trigger. He heard the explosion, and knew he had succeeded. He breathed out.

 

[Cale Gunderson]

"Lucky shot now stay focused!" Cale shouted back, having no time for boyhood celebration for the taking of a life. TIEs hadn't been on the line in ages if he remembered correctly, the boy was probably gunning down some sort of prisoner. Be that one who'd committed a heinous crime, or simply opposed the Sith overlords of their home, none could say. It didn't matter in the end though, it was the TIE or them, and Aleks had made the right call. At least he didn't need to worry himself about having to coax the boy to kill when needed.

Cale brought them into another roll, acring past the cruiser which desperately tried to pursue, its turbolasers firing after him into the abyss but vinding nothing but the empty void. Inside the cockpit, alarms still blared, whatever the first salvo had done, the old girl wasn't taking it well. A dozen systems were damaged or in need of some kind of repair, but as always that was an issue for another time.

Gunderson noted when Vale stopped firing, and the vanishing sense of danger gave him all he needed to know. The last TIE was gone, they'd be clear in seconds. The adrenaline began to die as they outpaced the cruiser with ease, and the subtle dread began to set in. What was he doing with these boys? Where was he supposed to take them? What did they do next?

Questions plagued him, but he buried them as he engaged the hyperdrive, and the nameless courier disappeared into the streaked tunnel of hyperspace.

fin.