What Duty Dictates

[Lief]

Aboard the Tarnished Bucket
The Fringes Of Space

Distress signals.

It was an unwritten law among many hyperlane-traversing spacers that distress calls had to be answered. Especially if you happened to be as close to the signal as the Bucket was when the SOS beacon blared over her ships central comm.

"Oh dear, Mistress," came the voice of uncertainty in the form of Screw, "It seems as though there's trouble afoot!"

The droid had begun to develop quite the personality in the past few years, mostly due to the fact that she hadn't bothered to wipe his memory. As a FEG he was much more valuable to her with his knowledge of their hyperlane routes - and the uncharted paths she frequently took between them - seered into his wires. Allowed him to become more instinctive, reflexive.

"How far out?"

"We can be there in approximately five minutes, Mistress, though --"

"Change our course."

She didn't need to hear the chances of something going wrong. Of it being reavers or highwaymen... Facts and figures didn't matter to her for the most part, she followed her heart and her feet. These lanes were her home, and you had to defend your home... It was as simple as that.

In the meantime Kyra exited the cockpit and ventured through to her quarters. Kyne, no doubt having picked up on the issue, had awoken from his snooze and now followed her closely. She gave him a quiet pat on the head as she pulled out her gunbelt and attached Rusty, Crank, and a slugthrower for good measure. Her eyes fell over Ignus' lightsaber hilt which sat within the cache at the bottom of her bed but ultimately she decided against it. The damn thing was tainted, at any rate, she only kept it in the hopes of one day trading it back for her own.

Well. Connors.

Switching into her iron skin, and putting on her usual shirt and trousers over top, she decided that caution was needed... Not that she'd admit as much to anxiety-ridden Screw. Overtop of all that went her duster, one of her most prized possessions, before she sat back on the bed in order to tug on her boots. Honestly, it wasn't like Kyra to bring all her goodies out to play, they were rare articles of clothing, things she had saved up years to purchase, but with the unknown lurking on the horizon she felt it was for the best.

Hooking her sonic servo to the belt for good measure, and slipping the knife she'd forged as part of her Tepe trial into her left boot, Kyra rose back to her feet and made her way back to the cockpit.

"Fancy tools will not save you if you get ousted into space, Mistress. I urge you to rethink thi--"

"My decision stands. Don't worry, you can stay with the ship. You too, Pup."

As they drew from hyperspace the sight of a roughed up vessel took up most of the viewing port. Its integrity was in bad shape. From where she stood it looked like a colony ship, which had her raising a brow. She hadn't run into such a thing since she was a child, and back then the pirates who owned her had been the ones antagonizing it. Looked as though the fates were working to have her pay back for what small part she'd had in that heist.

"I'm going to need a rebreather..." And maybe an envirosuit.

 

[Zef Halo]

The Fringes of Space

The boat exited hyperspace with an eerie declining hum of the hyperdrive shutting itself as its purpose was complete. The voyage hadn't been long but Ember was still getting used to the confines of his new ship - a gift from the mechanics of the infamous Wretched Hive captain by Cpn. Merrill. Ember found great use in having his own ship as he traversed the Outer Rim.

Ember had been on a navigational adjustment in the middle of deep space headed towards Utapau when a distress signal threw his systems into a fit. As any good spacer, and, well, Jedi he couldn't ignore it and immediately had diverted his course towards the source of the distress. Risky. There was a very, very high chance that it was a bait by pirates.

But the sensor readings revealed something completely else. A beaten up vessel and a freighter attaching itself to it.

The Jedi hit the comms button and spoke.

:: This is...uh...Outcast Four...One? Anybody out there? :: He hailed through the comms and awaited an answer as his ship drifted cautiously towards the damaged vessel.

He realized he never had a name for the ship.


[member="Kyra Sol"]

 

[Lief]

"Limited life support within the core of the ship, Mistress. If you insist on carrying out such a reckless task, might I suggest an environmental suit?"

His monotonous voice continued to drawl on as the ship attached itself to the rundown vessel. His ever doubtful and outright cowardly attitude toward most of her decisions usually leveled out well against her more headstrong and impulsive decisions, yet today she was hearing none of it.

"Already have one waiting down in the hold."

The Bucket rocked and jostled for a moment as two became one, a slight hiss of air making itself known. She frowned at that.

"Didn't we fix the inner airlock after the asteroid incident?"

"Negative, Mistress, you hadn't found the parts yet."

"Dammit. Seal off the hold for the time being while I find the back up suit."

Turning from the cockpit she made her way through the bowels of her frankly disorganized ship. She had let it go since returning to space this last time, with only herself and Kyne as organic company she was beholden to only her own standards and well... There were so many more important things to be doing than organizing and cleaning. It wasn't dirty, of course, but in moments like these it made finding things she didn't usually require quite a headache.

The central comms kicked into action and the voice of a man rang through her ship, with the first few words missing from the transmission. No doubt due to the fact that Screw had hastily patched it through so she could hear. Stepping to one of the consoles built into the inner walls, she ran her finger over the comm unit and returned the call.

"Outcast Four-One, this is Captain Sol of the Tarnished Bucket; There's a dead ship in the sector, sending the coordinates your way if you're able to provide assistance. I have reason to believe there's at least one lifeform alive onboard."

Never hurt to try, though truth be told she had no clue how close Outcast happened to be nor the reason they were hailing her ship.

"Screw, patch this through to my personal comms."

She still had to find the damned suit, after all. Didn't make sense to head into the hull without it, just in case.

[member="Ember Farseer"]