When free isn't free enough...

[Roth Likonis]

Grizmallt. The planet was a city world, and Kaid's head was practically on a swivel as he twisted and turned to take in as much as physically possible. Species of all kinds went about their business, holographic signs displayed the wares of thousands of different items in dozens of different languages, and everywhere light and sound seemed to strobe and vie for a sentient's attention.

"How...how do you live with this?" Muttered Kaird, averting his eyes to the permacrete pavement and popping a handful of pain pills. Dressed in his typical black boots, black pants, double-belted leather utility belt with quick draw holster, a navy blue tunic, and his signature maroon field jacket, the man looked every bit the rugged spacer - if not for the constant flinching at every sight and sound.

"It still bothers you? After five years I thought you'd be used to it now." Replied Valana Allovar to Kaird's left, patting his shoulder sympathetically. His first mate aboard his ship, the woman was a Petrusian, meaning she was naturally colored a vibrant hue - in this case a pleasant shade of light red - and possessed facial striations, pointed ears, and blonde hair that grew natural thorn-like projections.

"Nah. I agree with Cap...city planets like this aren't for us types." Came Jax's gruff voice to Kaird's right. His chief engineer, Jax was a muscular and admittedly thuggish Besalisk, a species of four armed reptilian. They had picked the alien up on Anobis - Jax having similarly stranded on the planet and forced to work as a miner - and Kaird hadn't been disappointed; the alien's easy going, albeit gruff, demeanor seemed to mesh well with Val and Kaird - and he was handy both in both a fight and around an engine.

"We don't have this in the Reach. Well, we do...but not like this." Insisted Kaird, coming to a stop and pointing at one of the advertisements. In some strange language of dashes and dots, it portrayed a Twi'lek woman with some kind of handheld device with crawling legs and a rotating sensor dish. "What...what is that. What even is that? And why isn't it in basic! Damn aliens!" He snapped angrily, his headache making him irritable.

"Ok, haha. Captain needs more pain and anxiety pills!" Laughed Valana as she mouthed apologies to several aliens nearby that wrinkled their brows at the words that could, technically, be construed as a little racist.

"Don't patronize me - I liked it on Anobis! Fields, clouds without pollution, and mountains!" Groaned Kaird, holding his head.

"And artillery shells, and civil war, and crippling poverty, and need I remind you what else." Replied Val, deadpan, steering Kaird into an alley off the main road - and away from the adverts and mass of foot traffic. With a groan, Kaird leaned against one of the walls in the alley, slowly slumping to the ground.

He'd been like this since they landed the Rusty Riot. Sullen, irritable, and overwhelmed; gone was the easy going and laid back man who took naps and slacked off on the landing gear of the Rusty Riot while on Anobis - he'd been replaced with a miserable shadow of himself who incessantly popped pills and snarled at the nearest available sentient. Valana found that, despite herself, she missed that old Kaird...that version of Kaird with the easy going smile. Though she'd die before she ever admitted it to his face. Silently, she watched as Kaird leaned his head back to thunk against the permacrete wall of the alley, and, with concern, she looked over at Jax, who simply shrugged in response.

Kaird had told them this would happen, that it was something of a species trait; his race, the Epicanthix, were an isolationist species, and unused to the wider galactic society, despite being technologically advanced. Because of this, whenever one ventured from home into the wider galaxy, they would become overwhelmed and exhausted by the unfathomable sights of the galaxy's millions of worlds. Often, many Epicanthix would return back to their realm, the Pacanth Reach, as a direct result. Xenopsychologists had a term for it - "Galactic Naiveté."

"Somebody say something. You're staring at me like I'm crazy." Said Kaird after taking several deep breaths. Uneasily, Jax and Val eyed each other - it wasn't like Kaird to be so...weak.

"Well, uh, Grizmallt is actually more of an industrial world...it was the homeworld of the Naboo humans, long, long ago, before they settled on Naboo proper." Stuttered Val, unsure what to talk about.

"Naboo...pastoral world, settled species are humans and...Goongas?" Said Kaird, idly, trying to regulate his breathing.

"Gungans." Corrected Jax. "Aquatic species that lives underwater. Floppy ear extensions and a very, uh, particular way of speaking basic."

Yeah. They sound like they have a lisp and brain damage. I've heard. Smart species, though, very ingenious technology." Slowly, unsteadily, Kaird rose to his feet. After a few hesitant moments, he raised his head, blinking his eyes rapidly. The pills were, perhaps, a smidgen higher in dosage than anyone had told Kaird - but given how bad his condition was, perhaps that was a good thing. "Ok...how much farther do we have to go."

"Kaird...Captain. If you need to go back to the ship, then please go. Jax and I can handle this, really." Val said sympathetically. The word "Captain" stuck in her throat; Kaird was lazy, unmotivated, constantly apathetic and disinterested, and primarily motivated by food and naps; this was punctuated by moments of suicidal risk taking, devilry, womanizing, gambling, and gunslinging. In her mind, a Captain this did not make. But, if calling him by his rank would get him to at least consider going back...well, that was a small price to pay.

"No. I've come all this way. I won't give in now. My crew needs me." Replied Kaird as he stood up a little straighter, set his jaw, and flashed her a roguish smile. And then there were these moments...moments when he was strong, and confident, and so sure of himself. He was like a rock; the center of their odd little crew. When he wanted to be, anyway. No, when it mattered most - corrected Val, shaking her head a little. "Jax, check the datapad."

Silently, Jax took out a datapad from his utility suit's pocket, bringing up the message that had brought them here. Shortly after Anobis, they had jumped from planet to planet, doing the odd job and doing their best to stay afloat. The jobs were always dangerous, and, somehow, they managed to come out alive and with just enough currency to eat and refuel their ship. But that wasn't enough. The Riot needed major repairs...they had a single operable laser cannon out of four turrets, living quarters sealed due vacuum exposure, faulty gravity plating, a completely dead port engine, thin spots and outright holes in the outer plating...the list of repairs went on and on. The last battle had been a wake up call; a stray laser cannon bolt had punched through the hull and impacted the engineering compartment of the ship - it was only later, after the battle, that they learned that if the bolt had strayed only a meter in any direction, that it would have hit either a fuel line, or a reactor regulator. Had they been struck in any one of those critical systems, the ship would have more than likely instantly disintegrated.

Repairs couldn't be put off any longer; at least not to critical systems. So each had done some digging, hitting up old contacts, looking for a job - a real job that would pay what they needed. And then Val had found it; a hint from an old smuggler on Ord Cestus about a certain Hazak Yael. Hazak, apparently, was looking to put together some kind of caravan for some valuable goods. The only qualifiers? No hazard pay, no entanglements with galactic governments, no looking at the cargo, and no questions. The only means of reaching Hazak was a comm number - and on calling and passing through some intensive questions, they had been provided only with a planet, and a name of a local cantina. The Laughing Mynock.

"It isn't much farther." Said Jax after a long moment. "I think." He punctuated this by turning the datapad upside down, and then to the side, clearly unclear as to their orientation on the electronic map.

"Give me that." Sighed Val, taking the pad from Jax. "Leave it to the pilot to have to navigate on land as well as in space." After a few moments, she clicked the pad off and then nodded at the end of the alley. "Down the alley, a left on the street, down another alley...and we're there. Kaird? Kaird!" He was running; as in, full tilt, almost horizontal, sprinting a marathon, running.

"I think he needs a drink." Mused Jax. "I think he really, really needs a drink from that bar." He finished sagely.

"You think?" Sighed Val, rubbing her own temple. "Let's go after him, before he...I don't know...gets drunk, hits on every woman in there, gambles all our fuel and ration money away, and then shoots up the place for fun."

"Or worse." Added Jax.

"Or worse." Echoed Val.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -​

He kept his head down, watching only his feet. Down the alley, then a left. He nearly careened into a jabbering Sullustan, but he only muttered an apology as he turned onto the street and kept on running. Down the sidewalk he went, as fast as possible; then a sudden right, down the next alley. It had to be close. It just had to be. And then...he was there. The alley dead ended, and, lifting his head he took in the dingy little wooden door and the holographic sign portraying a laughing mynock. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open and entered the establishment. Then again, "establishment" may be way too generous of a word.

The interior was dark, like most cantinas, but this was was even more so than usual - probably due to the sheer amount of smoke in the air. Decorated in a neo-chalactan/socorro style, carpets were strewn everywhere across the ground, dotted here and there with cushions - clustered around Huttian styled hookah pipes. From the ceiling, rich tapestries and bolts of cloth colored red, gold, and purple were hung haphazardly with primitive metal and paper lanterns, casting a rich and sultry glow across the establishment, muted though it was by the smoke. Here and there, Twi'leki women writhed and danced in the smoke, clothed in silks and sheer materials; sentients played cards and dice games upon low set tables, and every individual ate strange appetizers and drank brightly colored alcohols - ordered from a rather traditional looking bar set against a far wall.

In unison, every sentient in the cantina stopped their gambling, drinking, and smoking to turn and look at the newcomer, Kaird, as he panted and dripped sweat on the floor. His eyes bloodshot, his hair mussed, he looked deranged; and more than a few reached for their weapons uneasily. Kaird could literally only think of a single thing to say to defuse the potential situation. "...If I don't get drunk in the next thirty seconds, I think I might literally die."

The room was silent, and Kaird flashed a weak smile. Suddenly, as one, laughter erupted across the floor in a variety of languages and modes of communication - a few tossing small coins at him for a drink - as patrons put their weapons away and went back to their business. "Oh...oh thank the stars for spacers." Croaked Kaird, scooping up the currency (twenty credits and some change). Walking up to the bar, taking a seat on a stool, he slapped the credits down. "Give me your strongest drink that this will buy." Something fizzy and green was shoved towards him, and without hesitation he scooped it up and downed it in one gulp. "The hell was that? I said strong!" Said Kaird, coughing a little.

"That was Hull Stripper!" Retorted the bartender, A Duros with an eyepatch. "We use it to peel varnish!"

"Do you see these eyes?" Asked Kaird indignantly, pointing to his narrow eyes. "And these features? I'm Epicanthix buddy - not some gutless human. So when I say I want something strong, I mean I want something strong!"

"Fine!" The Duros disappeared behind the counter briefly, before returning with something fizzing and bubbling - it looked suspiciously like puke. "This is Huttese Ale - you literally have to drink it in the next minute, or the alcohol and acid content will eat through the mug. If it does that, you don't get a refund!"

"Now that's the spirit!" Scooping up the mug, Kaird slapped down some credits to pay for the drink, before moving to sit down on some cushions between a Nikto and a Weequay. They, along with a Sullustan and a tiny Chadra-fan seemed to be smoking hookah and playing some kind of game involving dice. "Gentlemen, who wants a round of drinks? Ow bootsa do rondie do buza!? Eh?" And, just like that, friends were instantly made. Despite appearances, though, Kaird was careful - even as he threw back the Huttese ale down his gullet. While he was here to relax some before the meeting, he was also here to gather information...

Who was Hazak Yael? What was his reputation? What kind of job was he setting up? Soon, his new friends would tell him all they knew...

 

[Lief]

The A-Wing tore through the already murky atmosphere with a heavy cough and a splutter. Somewhere in the back of her mind a siren whined, and the usually dark cockpit was punctuated by flashing lights that were almost too distracting. Hands held steady on the controls, long and drawn out breaths echoing through her ears as they were picked up by the internal comms of her helmet and relayed across the closed network she'd accidentally connected to in the heat of her panic.

Thick clouds parted, almost immediately revealing a towering high-rise directly north of Solitude, forcing her to strafe right if she had any hopes of avoiding collision. As she swerved around the building, as her heart beat heavy in her ears and down the sides of her throat, Kal was almost certain she heard a crack of thunder mark the occasion though the skies held little in the way of a convincing storm. Just industrial grade smog. Her beloved Solitude rocked and careened for a few seconds as she fought with the steering and used her right knee to impress a button on the front console.

Static tore through the comms, the sound something akin to nails on a chalkboard or the grinding of teeth; Kal groaned, just as a voice broke through the other end of the line. Whatever they said she didn't exactly hear, her head was abuzz and all of her focus was directed toward keeping the damn ship airborne and away from the mess of urban jungle sprawl she was haphazardly navigating her way through. The ship of course had other plans, veering off one way or another whenever she so much as eased up on the controls.

"Coming in hot," she warned, through clenched jaw, "Sending the trajectory."

All manner of guffaws and obscenities were uttered in response but Kal seemed just as quick to cut the comms as she had been to establish the link in the first place. Didn't need their sentiments breathing down her neck. Not now. She'd deal with the legality of it all later.

Thankfully on worlds like these spaceports and docking bays were somewhat of a commodity. Cordoned off areas with blinking lights made themselves known as she pulled closer to the ground, though at this point she had another issue all together to deal with: air traffic. Speeders and dainty ships zipped this way and that, the odd rough-for-wear freighter clogging up an intersection, men and women and aliens of unknown body parts going about their business. They were like sitting ducks, bowling pins lined up ready to be struck.

At least this bowling ball could have its course altered mid-roll.

The madness inside that cockpit was worsened by the sound of several commcalls coming through at once. Linking to the same network she'd opened to the nearby spaceport and its landing crew some moments prior. Each chime was another nail under her skin, and soon it was all she could do not to rip the wires from the communication feed.

Somehow Kal managed to pull the ship back last minute, narrowly skirting above the traffic before plummeting down, down, down. The old girl gurgled and growled, and she felt for sure she could smell fire scorching the hull and threatening to ignite the exterior of the engines. The speed at which she was propelled toward whichever spaceport had the luck of catering to her was nauseating, and though she pulled back on the controls nothing seemed to ease her descent.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, it all stopped. She felt her body thrust forward while the ship remained stationary, her stomach pulled and lurched until she heaved - grateful that her breakfast did not come up with the jostling - every muscle in her body seemed alight with fire. Her eyes stared forth from the viewing port, perplexed to discover that the ship was now being slowly brought in to land. A soft hum of energy wrapped around the ship, luminescent in nature.

Somehow all of her prayers had been answered; who'd have thought she'd be owing her life to a damn tractor beam?

-=-=-=-=-

Statements had been made, fines had been paid, and now all Kal wanted to do was find a ditch to curl up in and forget her woes. Exhaustion had seeped into every fiber of her being now that the adrenaline had waned, and she had a nasty scrape or two to remember the adventure by. Her ship, the poor Solitude, was in its worse state of repair yet, and between all of that and the cost of refueling and stocking the thing she was at a very considerable net loss.

And to think, she'd left Alsakan flying high with what ought to have been enough credits to get her down to Chandrilla. Maybe even Esseles if she'd been lucky.

"Luck. Pah."

Once she'd considered herself a genuinely lucky type of being; despite her rough start she always seemed to plod along, jumping from job to job with differing levels of success yet always enough to make it to the next day. Always enough to keep Solitude in the air and food in her belly. Now, of course, with age she knew better. Not that she was particularly old in truth, but she'd been at this for more years than she had any right to and had learned a thing or two along the way.

As she made her way through the crowd in her bright orange flight suit, reminiscent of a bygone era just as her ship was, Kal could not help but grumble at how drastically the tables had turned against her. She had maybe a handful of credits in her pocket, and though she knew better than to squander it given her current predicament all she could think about was a hot bowl of stew and someplace to rest her eyes. On worlds such as this one there was always jobs to be done, let her worry over how she was going to pay for everything once she'd nursed her wounds and her pride.

Knowing that she wasn't about to get a good deal, heck really anything for her credits, along the busier main strips, she sidled down an alleyway or two in search of a seedier establishment. Was the meat going to be what they claim it was? Unlikely. Was there even going to be meat in whatever stew it was? Likely just questionable substance. Did she care? Not in that moment. Though such laissez faire would no doubt come to bite her in the butt later.

She knew it when she saw its flashing sign, the holographic nature of it was leagues ahead of the wooden door which stood as its port of entry. Such an odd amalgamation of technologies, though not necessarily something to dwell upon. Kal pushed open the door and stepped into darkness, smoke as thick as the planet's smog greeted her inside as well as questionable odors. Funnily enough musk was the one that stood out the most to her, no doubt clinging to the various rugs and tapestries draped around the place.

"Feel like I just stepped into another world" she muttered beneath her breath, as she took in the strange sights of the cantina and shook her head. It did not match the urban sprawl outside at all. It was cozy though, quaint, and so she resisted the urge to turn-tail and sauntered across to the bar instead. Her face was streaked with soot and oil, the flightsuit almost fluorescent even in the dim lighting, what a mess she must have appeared. And yet despite that she did not seem to notice her own disheveled appearance. Or perhaps it was simply that she did not care.

Sticking a lock of thick red hair behind one ear, she peered up at the menu and slid into a seat at the bar.

"Nuna stew, and green chooss, please" she ordered, slipping the man her remaining credits and hoping it was enough to cover the bill. In that moment she was almost tempted to go for a drink which packed a punch, despite the adverse effect it would have on her, but it wasn't really worth running into yet more costly troubles due to poor life choices. Almost crashing her ship hadn't been her fault, thankfully. She'd rather keep herself blame free for today at least.

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

Valana and Jax had tried to keep up with the furious pace of Kaird - to no avail. Almost immediately they had lost the Epicanthix, his hunched form and head of dark hair becoming lost amidst the foot traffic of the city. Fortunately, they didn't have far to go. Making their way down the streets and alleys of Grizmallt, they finally arrived at the Laughing Mynock, a seedy little establishment that was little more than a hole in the wall.

Pushing the archaic wooden door open to the cantina, the Petrusian and Besalisk entered into the dimly lit interior - blinking their eyes against the stinging hookah smoke. To the side, a smattering of male humans and near-humans whistled appreciatively at the female Petrusian, who promptly flipped them a universally rude hand-gesture. "I hate bars." Muttered Valana under her breath.

"Do they not have them on your homeworld?" Asked Jax absently, scanning the cantina for Kaird. He didn't immediately notice the alien. But, that didn't mean much; he was no doubt near, and causing insurmountable trouble. The faster they found him, the less trouble there would be.

"Kullgroon? It's little more than a bar itself. Hence why I - "

"- Hate bars. Right." Finished Jax, his eyes settling on a group of aliens huddled around a small table. The smoke seemed densest there, and a group of six aliens and a dark haired Kaird played a game of dice - a stack of chips was growing between Kaird and a particularly large and hulking alien, a Houk. Nodding at the table, Jax nudged Val. "There he is."

"Gambling already." Replied Val deadpan. Kaird's raucous laughter flowed over the bar then, as he raked in another stack of credits - the man downing a glass of vibrant liquid before rolling the dice once more. "And drunk already." She added, monotone.

The pair drew near, each slapping a hand down on one of Kaird's shoulders. Blearily, he leaned his head back to look at the pair, flashing them a wide smile. "Heyyyy! My friends are here!" Gesturing to Val and Jax, he jerked his head at a Chadra-fan and Sullustan. "See!? I told you I had a crew. I own a starship, a big one." The pair of aliens just chittered and jabbered in response, one shrugging, and the other waving a hand at the comment. Kaird, for his part, seemed to more or less understand the gist of what they were saying. "No. No, no...I'm the Captain! They're my crew. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Beco ondee an koochoo do playa divot gee Holska doe Houk!"
(Because only an idiot would play Divot with Holska the Houk)
Replied a Rodian in Huttese to Kaird's left, gesturing at the sour expression on the hulking and insanely muscled humanoid Houk across from Kaird. Holska the Houk, for his part, simply cracked his knuckles (a sound that echoed through the room like gunshots) and slapped a meaty hand down on the table, scooping up the dice, and anteing in to the pot.

"We play, human. We play, and you lose." Said the hulking mass of muscle in stilted Basic, his voice like gravel. "Raise, twenty thousand, and five dice. Now, you play."

Kaird just waved a hand. "You know I'm already covered." He gestured at a small metallic disc on the table as he said the words, making Val go pale.

"Is that the holo-deed to the frelling ship!?" Screeched Val, twisting Kaird around in his chair to face her. "How deep are you in for!?"

"One hundred thousand." Replied Kaird unabashed, before a corrective throat clearing from the Houk had him recanting the number. "That is one hundred and twenty thousand, now."

"You...you...I will murder...your...frelling...what?" Sputtered Val, Kaird having apparently broken her brain.

"You should sit down." Said Jax - his suggestion more of a command as he practically picked Val up and set her down in a chair. As Val made strange noises and tried to learn how to think again, Jax turned back to Kaird, leaning down and whispering into the Epicanthix's ear. "Captain...this large and deadly sentient doesn't know about our ship's disrepair, does he?"

"Nope. Not a clue." Said Kaird, before bursting out laughing - the Houk across the table eyeing the pair suspiciously. "But that's just between you and me, ok? He doesn't need to know that the Rusty Riot isn't even close to being worth even eighty grand, let alone a hundred and fifty." Said Kaird, in a drunken conspiratorial whisper that was a touch too loud for Jax's liking.

"Enough!" Bellowed the Houk, slamming a pair of tree-trunk limbs down on the table, spilling drinks every which way. "Play now!" Growled the Houk, making several sentients edge away from him nervously.

With a guffaw, Kaird scooped of several red colored dice, while the Houk scooped up several blue colored dice. All the dice were different sizes and shapes, with a different number of sides. Apparently, the game was nothing more than betting how many of the dice would turn up the same symbol. Though, if one were skilled and crafty, you could throw the dice in a certain way to increase your odds, or make certain dice land on the desired symbol outright - just as Kaird had done.

"You sure you want to do this again big guy? Four straight wins for me...none for you. Everyone else had the common sense to bow out. There's no shame in admitting defeat." Said Kaird as he rolled the dice in his hand, offering a wink to the Houk. The Houk seemed to swell, and grew an unhealthy shade of purple - a sign of rage - and simply growled in response. "Fine. Fine...have it your way. Don't tell me I didn't warn you. I call your raise of five dice, and one hundred and twenty even." The Houk grunted his affirmation, and the pair threw their dice.

Red and blue dice rolled and careened across the table, twirling, bumping, and then finally growing still. In unison, those at the table raised their limbs and appendages into the air, to show that they were not gripping the table or otherwise trying to influence the dice - and, as one, they counted. Four blue, and exactly five red: the hand went to Kaird by exactly one point.


"GRAHHHHHHHH! CHEATER! CHEATING HUMAN!"

The Houk's earsplitting bellow deafened everyone at the table - and the hulking creature drew an oversized pistol from a holster on its belt, intent on gunning down Kaird in cold-blood. But, faster than the eye could see, a seeming blink of an eye - a moment between moments - and Kaird was leaning across the table, his own pistol drawn and its barrel firmly planted between the Houk's eyes. The movement was unnaturally fast, and everyone including the Houk froze at the blur of motion. "First, I am Epicanthix, not a human." Grated out Kaird after a long moment, breaking the silence - his words slightly slurred from alcohol and the aerosolized Marcan Herb in the air. Even now, the barrel of the weapon traced tiny circles in his slightly unsteady hands. "Seond...I warned you that you wouldn't win. I played this game on the streets for bread, you arrogant pile of muscle." Kaird's thumb flicked a safety on the weapon, setting the weapon from stun to kill. The DG-29 hummed dangerously in response, a capacitor conspicuously charging. "So...pay up, or walk away - I don't care which. But you draw that blaster, and I'm going to paint your brain matter across the walls."

Their corner of the cantina seemed frozen; Kaird leaned across the table, the Houk frozen reaching for his gun, the patrons slowly easing away and scooping of their glasses - getting out of the way of the impending violence. For several long moments, no one moved, and barely anyone dared to breathe. The Houk and Kaird stared at each other unblinking, waiting for one to make a move. Suddenly, the Houk flinched, his gun arm flashing upward; in response there was the report of a blaster, and a deadly flash of neon-fire. Without ceremony, the Houk fell over, a smoking hole drilled into its cranium - a wisp of smoke and the smell of carbon wafting off of Kaird's gun.

In another display of supernatural speed, Kaird twirled his gun in display before holstering it - a blur of motion and precision. Looking at those around him, he reached up and tapped his left temple, his left eyeball glowing briefly - revealing its cybernetic nature. "Anyone else want to try their luck? Eh?" Revulsion, horror, and fear passed around the gambling table as sentients scurried away from Kaid, their drinks and meager credits in tow. Murmurs of "freak" and "cyborg" circulated through the cantina, and those in Kaird's way gave him a wide berth as snorted and stomped his way from the dice table to a secluded corner of the cantina, the patrons there promptly relocating to the other side of the establishment. "Someone tell Hazak Yael some of his clients are here, whoever the frell he is." Tossing a handful of credits to the batender for the mess, Kaird promptly took his seat, kicked up his feet, and lit one of his cigaras, pointedly minding his own business while he kept the drinks coming.

Jax and Val, for their part, sat in stunned silence at the gambling table. Kaird never used his implants, let alone so casually in a public venue. For him to do so meant something was horribly, horribly wrong - beyond simple nerves and anxiety. Clearing her throat, Val stood from her seat, scooping up the holo-deed to their ship, before walking over to Kaird - hesitantly taking a seat across from him. Jax, ever the pragmatist, scooped up as many credits as he could carry from the table, and looted the corpse of the Houk, before joining the pair.

"Kaird -" Began Val, before she was cut off.

"Don't. Just...don't." Replied Kaird flatly.

So they sat in silence, waiting; for what, exactly, time would tell.

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

The scent of a meaty broth wafted through the bar-area of the establishment, drowning out the musk and hot yeasty beer.

As if on cue, Kal's stomach began to grumble something fierce. When the steaming bowl was placed down before her, she was surprised to find a small smattering of credits also tossed down to the bartop, even though she felt certain she hadn't enough to cover the bill, and before they could change their mind she scooped them up and pocketed it while she could.

"Th'nks" she mumbled, between heaped mouthfuls of suspicious meat and vegetables, before hastily wiping away a small trail of broth which escaped down her chin. Her host merely grunted and walked off to another newcomer, which left her to her own devices.

She'd finished most of the bowl before even pausing to take a breath, and then the chooss was likewise dispersed with. It was rare for one of either to satiate her, for a girl of her size she seemed to eat a lot more than was necessary, but she'd need what meager credits remained for transport if she had any hopes of navigating this cityscape.

Pulling a banged up datapad from her backpack, Kal began to browse some of the news from the Core; same old nonsense, some planet was liberated, another was seized, war was brewing... All things which made her glad she never stuck in one place for too long. Though it did make her concerned about the 'lane. It spanned numerous Galactic States, after all, and if war really was on its way - but then again, when wasn't it? - the potential for blockades was high.

"Could always drop down to Skako when I pass Brentaal," she mused under breath, pulling up a map of the nearby sectors and running her finger along the route she had planned for previously, "Close to Alderaan, tho'..."

A small ship like hers typically zipped by without any issues, especially on larger lanes, but starfighters loose in the middle of a warzone? Well, most would just see her as with the enemy. Most Civies didn't fly such things, after all.

"Really is time t'invest in another ship..."

When she turned to survey the room, the small rattle of insignificant credits lit that idea on fire.

"Alright, scrapyard it is then."

Her eyes fell over one of the tables in the corner, where men hunched over in the midst of a game. From her poor vantage point she couldn't deduce exactly what it was that was being played, though she felt certain she'd seen a flash of dice here and there. Hintaro, then? Or maybe Corellian Sabaac?

Kal didn't care enough to give it much more thought. Instead she downed the rest of her drink, sipped the remaining broth from the bowl, and rose from the stool in order to find a quiet booth or sofa to lounge at. Every muscle in her body ached something fierce, in fact she wasn't entirely sure she didn't have whiplash, but luckily such things never plagued her for long. At least, not when compared to other humans. Give her an hour, and she'd be back in peak condition.

Or so she hoped.

As she stood up, however, a voluminous bellow sounded from the dice table.

Just like most other patrons, Kal could not help but turn her gaze over to see the spectacle unfold. There sat a towering houk, looking about ready to flip the table and crush some human underfoot. Not the kind of thing Kal would ever knowingly tie herself up with, houk's were terrifying when pushed too far. She'd seen one tear a man limb from limb before.

But somehow the human - no, Epicanthix - proved just as swift to draw. Eager to go toe to toe with what many in the Galaxy saw as a monster. Threats were made, and the moment the creature moved to respond blaster fire broke through the air.

Instinctively, she covered her ears. Her eyes, however, pierced through the murky room and she watched, rather unflinchingly, as the wall and many of the bypassers were covered in grey matter. It wasn't what was done in that moment, however, which intrigued her, but what was said. Because as the Epicanthix stormed away, he instructed anyone in the vicinity to find his would-be employer... And he had no idea who exactly said employer was.

Which probably meant the employer didn't know who he was.

Bright as brass, Kal approached the table where the man and two others had found themselves, not entirely certain what it was she was going to say, yet desperate enough to try and get in on their job. He'd only gunned down a houk, right? How dangerous could he be...

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

He was in a foul mood. He had learned very little of Hazak Yael - the being was a ghost, whoever he was, doing business under a variety of names in a plethora of sectors. A crimelord, the sentient was paranoid to the extreme, and had never revealed his true face to anyone. Rather, he let someone else represent him. A bodyguard, a deadly assassin by the name of Theron Pike. An assassin that Kaird happened to be intimately acquainted with. The prospect of meeting Theron outside of the Pacanth Reach hadn't even occured to Kaird; meeting anyone from his old life outside the Reach was...well, inconceivable. But, here they were.

Val and Jax shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Like a hawk, Kaird's eyes swiveled and latched onto the movement, a surly growl escaping his lips. "You got somethin' to say?" Their collective shrugs and sudden refusal to look him in the eye had him snorting again, and he took another long drink of his beverage - now a fizzly blue colored Lum. Truth was, he was worried about them. Theron wasn't someone you just fought all of a sudden...he was someone you planned to fight. Set traps for. Used every opportunity to get the upperhand on. Maybe, just maybe Kaird could take him down all by his lonesome...but he was out of shape, and out of practice - he hadn't done "enforcement" for a syndicate in quite some time. If it came to blood, people were going to die. Most likely on his side of things than naught.

His bad mood had been made worse by the Houk. It had occurred to him that he could just win the money he needed at the gambling table - just circumvent all this nonsense. The Houk had put a hole in that plan by getting increasingly violent, scaring away the other gamblers. In the end, they didn't even get twenty grand out of that little misadventure. So here they were, waiting to be summoned and probably killed...

Or maybe not. Epicanthix were beings of honor. If Kaird took the job, then Theron was bound by his contract with Hazak to allow Kaird to complete it unmolested. True, he probably already knew they were here, but maybe they could...

It was this exact moment that a red haired human woman walked up to their table. Or, perhaps near-human...Kaird's keen eyes detected a hint of gold in that skin - though the possible racial implications had him snorting the fleeting idea away. That species was rare enough that the odds of two half-breeds meeting was laughable. Perhaps she was part Hrakian? That red hair though...bright as fire, like the sun. It reminded him of another woman, a beautiful woman from years ago. The memory of that woman soured an already dark disposition into a downright bellicose mood. Hand reaching for his pistol, he snapped in his native language, Epicant, at the woman as she drew near. "Nǐ xiǎng yào shénme!? Nǐ xiǎng sǐrén zhā ma!"

Quite quickly, Jax the Besalisk stood up and blocked the woman from Kaird's view - knowing well how he reacted to redheads - and crossed his arms at the Epicanthix, muttering back to him in stilted Epicant. As he did so, Jax waved at Valana to speak to the woman.

With a heavy sigh, the Petrusian pushed herself up off her seat, walking the handful of steps over to the newcomer - muttering all the way. She wore her semi-armor, pieces and parts of plastoid armor looted from various soldiers and troopers over the years. Across her back, a high powered rifle was slung, complemented by a pistol on her hip and a knife in her boot. Her demeanor, though, didn't match her equipment. "Er, hello! Hi. I'm sorry about our Captain. He had to kill someone, and that always makes him a little...Eeeeeee..." She shook her hands as she said this, emphasizing the noise. "What can I help you with?

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

"Easy there, Panatha," she warned, as a pistol was reached for by Sir-Trigger-Happy of the dice table, her own hand instinctively lowering toward her belt where a small multitude of weapons lay. Though there was a pistol there, as there had been for the man, her fingertips actually chose to brush over the hilt of a small knife. "You won't find me quite so sluggish as that Houk."

A besalisk stepped between them, though her tentative touch did not relent, and another member of their merry little crew instead approached her. Between her skin, markings, and those ethereal ears, Mara pegged her for a Petrusian, a species that she actually liked to look at. What an odd mix they made, especially this close to the Core and what was formerly Imperial space. Then again, in this Galaxy everywhere had been owned by everyone in the past decade or so. It shouldn't be surprising to her that they broke traditional Imperial norms.

Besides, the Alliance held this space last I checked... The same Alliance which was now in Exile, of course. Nothing was built to last, it seemed, which only added to the chaos.

When the almost jovial words came out of the Petrusian's mouth, Mara could not help but stare. Although she'd always been told not to judge a book by its cover, in some cases it wasn't quite so easy and after seeing so much armour and weaponry she had expected something a little more... Gruff? Forceful?

"Sounded to me like you were 'bout to book a job," she said, rather nonchalantly despite the circumstances. As though a man hadn't just been shot dead minutes prior. As though she wasn't overstepping the mark. "I want in on it."

Had she ever been quite so brazen?

Once she recalled, Back when Kilian came to The Wheel...

It had worked in her favour back then, mostly because the Captain hadn't anyone else to really choose from, and that bold step had led her all the way to this point. If not for him, she knew she'd still be stuck working for Luh the Hutt, no doubt in one of his clubs now that she was more than just a gangly and unsightly child. She thanked her lucky stars every now and then for her appearance as a youth, it was likely the one thing which got her off The Wheel in one piece.

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

"Easy there, Panatha...you won't find me quite so sluggish as that Houk."

"Nǚhái, wǒ bù xūyào yòng shǒuqiāng shā sǐ nǐ!" Snapped Kaird, standing up and baring his fists in a martial stance. Just as quickly, Jax was there, using all four arms to restrain the belligerent Epicanthix.

"Kaird will you relax, you're acting like a rabid Corellian Hound!" Sighed Val, rubbing her temple. Turning back to the woman, the Petrusian put her hands on her hips. "You want in on our job? That's awfully forward of you..." Val's eyes narrowed slightly. "...Or awfully desperate of you."

"We like desperate." Said Jax in his gravelly monotone, Kaird having gone limp in his arms like some ragdoll Nexu.

"We're desperate!" Retorted Kaird, limply. "Why do we need more of it? And put me down, Jax! This isn't funny anymore." He said, with a wiggle.

Hesitantly, Jax set Kaird down - and Kaird promptly crawled back into the booth, picking up his cigara and throwing back some more Lum. Seemingly satisfied, Jax turned away from the man, to look at the red head. "The Captain has a point...what do you bring to the table? What is it that you...do? Please be truthful...the Captain may be hot-headed, but he has a special talent in weeding out lies from truths."

Kaird for his part, narrowed his eyes threateningly, but didn't do anything more. A sip of Lum, and drag on his cigara - the smoke of which he blew towards his belligerent crewmates and the newcomer. "Yeah, I'm a regular Jedi. Can't you tell?"

Clearing her throat, waving the sweet smelling cloud of orange smoke from her face, Val laughed lightly - as if all of this was simply a regular occurrence. "That is to say, stranger, what is your name? What do you do for a living? What abilities do you bring to the table? And why...should we trust you?"

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

"Why not a little bit of both?" she offered, with an unexpected grin, when her forwardness came into question. It was almost as if her ship had crash landed earlier that day, or something. Not that they needed to know that, of course, it might reflect poorly on her piloting skills, which were actually above par.

The whole show of restraining the Epicanthix soon came to an end, during which time Kal had released her tender hold of the knife and opted instead to cross her arms in a relaxed fashion. Though she may have technically been applying for a job, few who did odd-jobs like she usually called into questions her ... qualifications. It was strange to be put on the spot like that.

Then again, most know who I am. Either directly or indirectly. She did run in the same few circles, after all, regardless of where in the Galaxy her ship was headed.

"Name's Mara," she told them, same name she'd given most for the past decade of her life, after all it simply did not do to give the real thing. No, that was handing them too much power over her. She'd said it oft enough that it slipped from her lips like butter, as effortless as speaking her own name if not more so in truth. "A-Wing Pilot, and general doer of odd jobs. Need a mechanic? I gotcha. Someone to fly you through an ion storm? I'm your girl. Or even just a little extra firepower? Well, you get the idea..."

Her head tipped to the left, regarding the Petrusian beauty for a moment, and then her Captain who wasn't so bad to look at himself, before her shoulders shrugged loosely.

"As to why you should trust me, you already said it yourself. I'm desperate. Ain't about to screw up a chance to make a few credits, not now not ever. I'm serious when it comes to work." Maybe not otherwise, but what did that matter to them?

She took a step to the right, putting herself right in the Epicanthix's line of sight, and did her best to meet his gaze.

"You won't regret it, Kaird was it? And hey, if I step so much as a toe too far... There's always airlocks to throw a girl out."

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

Kaird's eyes never left the woman as she spoke, and his companions knew better than to obstruct his line of sight. A long time ago, in another life, he had been trained in the assassin's arts. More than that, though, he had been trained in interrogation, and further - Kinetic communication. Subtle gestures, the slight increase of sweat when a lie was told, the subconscious flush of blood and the dilating of irises. These were but a handful of thousands of gestural clues, that, when combined, allowed one to read the body language of another being so keenly, that it was practically telepathy. As the woman, Mara, spoke, she revealed far more about herself than her words ever would - and that was the point of their little exercise.

"You won't regret it, Kaird was it? And hey, if I step so much as a toe too far... There's always airlocks to throw a girl out."

"That will be Captain, Captain Galfridian, or Galfridian to you Red." Said Kaird, averting his eyes and taking his cigara out of his mouth - grinding the butt out on the table. Idly taking another out, he thoughtfully lit the next and took a drag. The euphoric properties of the cigaras helped his nerves and anxiety...gods above knew he needed it.

"...Well?" Asked Valana, apparently trying to jog Kaird out of his sudden introspection.

"She's telling the truth. Mostly. Her name isn't what she said it is...but who the hell gives out their real names nowadays." Replied Kaird eventually. The sweet smelling smoke did indeed seem to mellow the alien out somewhat - relaxing backwards, he raised a hand declining another drink as the bartender came to refill his cup of Lum. Swirling his cup around, he slowly took a sip, before eyeing Mara - or Red, as he called her. "The Job is transport of goods; goods provided by an apparently dangerous man who, for all intent and purposes, doesn't exist. Your pay will be ten percent, which is more than generous considering you will be on gunner duty."

"Provided we can get the turrets to work." Grumbled Jax under his breath.

"One issue at a time." Replied Kaird. "We don't even...frell, well here we go, I guess." Kaird began to trail off, then nodded behind them - a tan colored Abednedo wearing all black approached the table. Based on the speed at which some of the local patrons moved out of the way, the stylized patch on the alien's right shoulder - a "Y" styled into a trident - was likely indicative of Hazak Yael.

The alien drew closer, a hand coming up tos troke one of its mouth tendrils - its eyes glinting in the semi-darkness of the cantina. "...You called?" It inquired, its voice smooth and cultured.

The air about the alien deeply unsettled Kaird. It was the air of a being who had absolute surety that he was in no danger whatsoever. It went beyond simple reputation...it was blind faith. Kaird glanced around the cantina, wondering internally how many of the sentients in the room were on Hazak's payroll. "We're ready to meet Hazak Yael. Or, rather, his representative." Kaird replied quickly, pointedly keeping his hands above the table - making no moves towards his weapon.

"Mmm...yes...he is expecting you. He even told me to relay a message, a proverb I believe? 'A bad word worshipped will echo a hundred miles.' is what he said...I'm sure that holds significance to you." Replied the Abednedo stoically, gauging Kaird's reaction.

Kaird bristled at that, his hand coming down to rest on his pistol. In unison, nearly every patron in the cantina drew weapons; pistols, rifles, blades, and more. Hazak...Hazak had a LOT of people on his payroll, apparently.

"Careful...careful." Drawled the Abednedo.

Slowly, Kaird drew his hand up, showing that it was empty, and smiled a wide and gratuitous smile. "Of course, of course...no harm, and no need for violence. I'm sure a cultured and well bred individual like yourself can understand that reason can, however briefly, be overridden by startling news?" In response, those in the establishment lowered their weapons, but kept them ready.

"Of course!" Replied the Abednedo enthusiastically, waving a hand away. "After all...no one here wants any messes...not yet." The alien's voice emphasized that word, 'yet', dangerously. And his voice grew hard. "Be warned, though...my superiors are not as forgiving, as I am. I think you're well acquainted with that, yes?" Fishing a datapad out of his pocket, the Abednedo handed it over to Kaird. "Meeting coordinates will be delivered when the time is right. Once delivered, the datapad will erase itself. Memorize the coordinates within thirty seconds."

"Elaborate." Remarked Kaird dryly.

"Necessary." Corrected the Abednedo, who turned and raised a hand in farewell as he walked towards the door. "Don't be late!" And then he was gone. All around the cantina, patrons seemed to magically go back to normal - weapons disappeared, drinks were ordered, and chatter started up again.

"Well...that was...disturbing." Muttered Val, taking a seat in the booth and slumping over tiredly. "Why did he have a message for you, Kaird? What did he mean when he said you were already 'acquainted' with that?"

"Ghosts." Replied Kaird, simply. "Ghosts from another life." He finished, his voice hard - brokering no room for further questions.

Val and Jax - the latter who sat next to Kaird - seemed to shift uncomfortably. They all had secrets, to be sure, but over time some of those secrets had come out, the details and skeletons of their lives becoming more defined to their comrades. Kaird, though? He was an enigma. Never had the man spoken about his time in the Reach, or what had driven him out into the wider galaxy. Beyond this, he constantly kept those around him at arm's length; questions were deflected with non-chalant answers and a joke, or outright ignored as he sought a nap. Beyond this, he constantly seemed on guard, and the alien never seemed to allow himself to be in a compromising position. He had no friends, not really - only comrades - nor family, nor even lovers. Hell, Val hadn't seen him even flirt with someone. The current theories between Val and Jax were that Kaird was either a disgraced Jedi, a replica droid, or a famous narcoleptic jewel thief who was on the run.

Clearing his throat, Jax nodded at the datapad. "Who knows how long it will take for them to reach us. And it will likely be far away; we should return to the Rusty Riot."

Valana, smiling brightly, turned and beamed at the newcomer. "How about it Re- *cough* - Mara?" Asked Val, stumbling over Kaird's nickname. "Want to see your workspace?" The woman was a little more giddy than she really had any right to - but, then, she had been the only woman on a ship of two males, marooned on a planet of dirty miners and farmers for four months. The prospect of having someone else around, even remotely relatable, was probably exciting to her.

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

"Captain?"

For a moment there Kal seemed to phase out of the conversation; it had been way too long since she'd been ordered to call someone Captain, and over the years she had become so accustomed to calling him such that she actually forgot his real name. He would always just be Captain Kilian to her, the man she owed her life to. Part of her resented the very idea of calling someone else it, but then her current predicament didn't give her much in the way of options.

Could always go and find new contacts here on Grizmallt... But she'd already done the legwork here, she'd been bold - more so than usual - she'd interjected herself into this little group, and somehow, someway, it had worked. For now, at least.

Wasn't worth turning tail over a title.

"Alright, Captain it is, Captain."

There, she'd said it three times. Maybe the ache would lessen with time, but right now it still felt just as weird and wrong to her. No matter. When the guy said she had been telling the truth over all except her name she almost scoffed, holding it back at the last moment. He was right, of course, but it wasn't for the reasons he thought it was. Which meant it was less mind reading - which, really, wasn't even a real thing, even if people claimed they could - and more... Visual cues?

She'd have to watch herself around this one.

"Couriering? Done my fair share o' that." Manning the guns, though? She was less confident about that. She knew how to fight with her starfighter, of course, the A-Wing was her home, and you protected your damn home, but that was done in conjunction with flying, her attention had been torn between so many things that she'd been forced to make it second nature.

How would she fare when that was all she was doing? It made her a little nervous, but it was worth a shot. Besides, from the sounds of it their ship wasn't in the best conditions.

"What's wrong with the turret? Mayhaps I can take a look at it..."

After all, Borsk had done a good job teaching her his trade. Usually it was something stupid that had ship components messing up. But that depended on what exactly was wrong. Was it simply stuck? Refusing to fire?

Whatever the case, there wasn't really time to discuss or dwell on it before their supposed contact arrived. Not that Kal knew them by sight, mostly just the way ole Captain shifted in his seat, and the strange behaviour of the crowd around them.

Kal crossed her arms in such a way that her blaster was just within reach, she could practically feel the metal against her fingertips though she wasn't actually reaching for it. The guy looked seedy, had a face you just wanted to punch, and for once she was grateful she didn't have to do the talking. How long now had she been doing this chit solo? It was tiring, dangerous work, as evidenced by the fact that most of the patrons in the cantina sought to turn on them all at a moments notice.

From the corner of her eye she watched Kaird. She may not have been part of a crew in years, but she knew better than to act brash without some indication from the head honcho, and while he did reach for his weapon nothing was actually done to provoke the fight. As such, with much restraint, Kal kept her hands exactly where they had been... Though there was a certain eagerness behind her otherwise guarded expression. She hadn't had a fire fight in some time.

With no interjections from Kal herself, things seemed to trudge along a little slowly until the Abednedo vacated the immediate vicinity. She had always despised the often subtle plays for power potential employers showed, holding their lives over their heads as though it was nothing. Yeah, yeah, they got it, keep in line or else. Their distrust often only bred distrust in Kal, though, their paranoia had to be borne from something, and more often than not it was their own sketchy and untrustworthy nature.

Valana's voice drew her from her thoughts, and she flashed a smile in the woman's direction. "Red?" she chuckled, feeling more able to do so now it wasn't Kaird himself using the nickname, "Like I ain't been called that a thousand times before. I'm down, though I didn't quite catch your name?" For a moment there she paused, glancing over to where the Epicanthix was, "Will you be returning to Griz' when the job's done? I'd hate to misplace my Solitude."

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

"Will you be returning to Griz' when the job's done? I'd hate to misplace my Solitude."

"We go where the wind takes us." Replied Kaird, his mind somewhere far away.

"Our ship is a Space Master, if your ship is an A-wing, then you can just stow it in one of our holds." Offered Jax helpfully, looking at Kaird oddly.

Kaird shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts from his mind. It was funny. Funny how a ghost from the past drudged up old feelings, and old wounds. If he resented Hazak Yael for anything, it was that. Clearing his throat, Kaird stood up. "Store your ship on our own; I doubt they're going to need a full nineteen thousand tons of cargo moved. We can spare some tonnage to transport your ship." Nodding at Val, Kaird jerked his head to the door. "Val, square away Red. I'm going back to the ship ahead of you lot. There's something I want to take care of." Without much ado, he scooted out of the booth, grabbed a bottle of Lum from behind the bar - slapped some credits down - and headed for the door.

"I, but, Kaird!" Stuttered Val in protest. "You're going straight to the ship? No detours? No fights?"

"No detours." He replied firmly, with a lazy wave of his hand. And then he was gone.

"He's in a strange mood." Noted Jax.

"That's an understatement." Muttered Val, in response.

"Like I ain't been called that a thousand times before. I'm down, though I didn't quite catch your name?"

Shaking her head and clearing her throat, Val beamed sunnily at Mara. "In answer to your previous comment, I am Valana Allovar, at your service. And this is Jax. Jax...uh..." Suddenly she struggled to remember if Jax had ever given a last name.

"Just Jax." Offered Jax, standing up himself and gesturing for the group to move to the exterior.

"Just Jax." Echoed Val, standing. "He's our engineer and mechanic, and I'm the ship's pilot."

"Chief Engineer." Corrected Jax. "And you're welcome to look at our cannons Mara, but there's not much that can be done about them. Hydraulics are literally rusted together, and the targeting computer is second hand and meant for a vessel half the size. Not much can be done without entirely new parts."

"It would probably just be easier to show her." Remarked Val, deadpan.

"...Probably. Everything will become clearer then." Said Jax, wincing slightly.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

​

They moved from the cantina to the landing pads on the south end of the city, exchanging small talk all the way. Valana - who insisted people call her Val - had been a Rebel on her home world, learning how to fly in order to combat the Imperial insurgence there. When she came to understand that the wars would never stop, and planets would simply continue to exchange hands until only a single faction was left, she had teamed up with Kaird, a local drunk, to buy and repair a ship from a local scrap yard. The two had been partners ever since. Jax for his part, made some talk as well, apparently relieved to have another mechanically minded individual to talk to. He had been an engineer working in the mines of Anobis until very recently - Kaird and Val had been stranded on Anobis for nearly for four months, and he had offered to help them anyway he could, so long as they got him off world as well. One thing led to another, and he just never left - he enjoyed the traveling, and being a chief engineer on a starship.

Coming to a stop in an access corridor of the south space port, Val and Jax smiled tightly. "Prepare yourself." Warned Jax. Entering in the code to access the hangar, the small bulkhead hissed open, revealing...a scrap yard? An aged Space Master medium transport, painted orange, sat in the middle of the hangar. Everywhere, metal plating was falling off - and it littered the hangar deck like so much scrap. It was only on drawing closer, that one realized it was painted, but rather rusted orange. Visible holes could be seen in the ship, and it visibly leaked coolant on the ground here and there - the liquid hitting the ground and hissing as it evaporated. The craft's four laser cannons, once fully operational, had seen better days - one was literally blown up, a stub of twisted barrels and blown out transparisteel, while two looked like they were completely rusted over. Only a single turret on the ship's belly looked like it was remotely operational.

"That's our ship, the Rusty Riot." Revealed Val with a sarcastic flourish of her hand, like some game show gone wrong.

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

"No chit, a Space Master? Then yeah, if that's cool with you, I'll totally dock my Solitude in your hold. Thanks."

Kal would be lying if she tried to claim she wasn't excited to see the ship. From the sounds of it, the vessel needed some work. Even if it was just the turrets which were kriffed... But superficial things like that didn't matter to her, what she liked about a ship was its bones, what made it, well, it.

Kaird made his leave then, emphasizing her new nickname in the process, and soon enough it was just the three of them. Part of her wondered if the nickname was due to a refusal to use someone's chosen pseudonym; either way, it didn't matter.

Turning to the two of them, Kal offered yet another smile. "Valana, and Jax. A pleasure to meet you both. Prefer Valana, or Val?"

She eyed up Jax at the mention of him being a mechanic, and nodded her head quietly to herself. She could see it, to be sure. "New parts, or 'new' parts? I know my way 'round a junkyard, ain't ever had too hard a time findin' what I needed. Maybe when this is all over, I'll see what I can find."

Next was Val's turn. The pilot, eh? "Ever flown a starfighter, or you prefer bigger ships? Ain't nothin' like hoppin' in the cockpit of an A-Wing, let me tell you, ship like that don't let nothing stand in your way."

And then it was their turn to leave, headed back to the spaceport she'd nearly crashed into earlier that day. In her mind she was trying to figure out how close her baby was in comparison to their Space Master, though Jax drew her from those thoughts before they were completed, revealing the ship soon after.

She could practically feel them staring at her, waiting to see her reaction to what lay before them, though she was sure neither of them were actually turned her way. The ship was a mess, that was for sure, but all the same Kal whistled in admiration.

"She needs some work, that's for sure," she deduced with a shrug, "But boy is she a beauty. Y'all are lucky, that's quite the catch. Kuat don't make'em like they used to."

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

"New parts, or 'new' parts? I know my way 'round a junkyard, ain't ever had too hard a time findin' what I needed. Maybe when this is all over, I'll see what I can find."

"New parts." Replied Jax ruefully. "Though, truth be told, what it really needs is about ten thousand credits and a week in an outlaw tech hangar. Needs full replacement of too many things to count."

"Ever flown a starfighter, or you prefer bigger ships? Ain't nothin' like hoppin' in the cockpit of an A-Wing, let me tell you, ship like that don't let nothing stand in your way."

"I flew system patrol fighters, mainly, with some TIE's thrown in that we 'liberated' from our local garrison. My baby was a TIE Interceptor, painted cobalt blue...those things were a rush. No shields either...you had to be a good pilot, or you were a scrape of carbon on the ground." She sounded wistful as she spoke, remembering more adrenaline fueled days when her ship was, well, more of a ship.

"She needs some work, that's for sure," she deduced with a shrug, "But boy is she a beauty. Y'all are lucky, that's quite the catch. Kuat don't make'em like they used to."

Jax and Val stared at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing. Jax shaking his head, walked out across the hangar, talking over his shoulder. "It's a piece of steaming bantha fodder, but we call it home...and pray to the stars that it doesn't kill us all." He replied, muttering the last part under his breath.

"Kaird and I rebuilt it from...four...five other ships? I don't think it has a single standard component left in it, except for the shields - shields are the only thing working like they're supposed to." Explained Val, walking towards the ship. "They said it would never fly again, but Kaird and I proved them wrong." She laughed wryly, shaking her head. "Truth is, though, it's a far cry from the fighters I used to fly...but, it's a living at least."

Walking across the deck, they drew closer to the craft - taking care to avoid the coolant leaks and falling hull panels. Kaird was descending the ramp, barking something to Jax who hurriedly ran up the ramp - spying Val and "Red," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Let's pack up and get rolling. We'll stop by your berth to load up your ship, then head to the coordinates - they've sent it already - meeting is in about an hour." Pausing, he shrugged slightly. "I know most people would be more cautious letting a stranger onto their ship, but we don't have anything of value aboard, so...stay out of personal rooms, and don't eat too many of the rations. That's it."

She would find the interior of the ship to be rather simple; a long hallway ran the length of the ship's spine, the aft end connected to the engine room and aft turret access tubes, while the fore end connected to the main saucer - which housed a small meeting room, the captain's and officer's quarters, general crew quarters, the cockpit suite - which held some consoles and a pilot/co-pilot chair - and a single refresher. Everywhere, things were in disarray. Deck plating was loose, lights were missing and those that worked either flickered or were feeble and weak, and in some places the artificial gravity was either too heavy or too light. One deck plate specifically had a warning sign plastered on a placard - Don't step! - with an image of a cartoon man being thrown to the ceiling; warning of a particularly faulty gravity coil. The walls were faded and peeling, console and panel buttons missing and taped over, and the ship seemed to constantly groan under its own weight.

Closing the ramp, the ship shuddered as Val and Jax took the controls while Kaird looked on; protesting, the ship slowly rose into the air, landing gear retracting with an earsplitting screech of un-lubricated hydraulics, before the ship shakily flew through the air, out of the hangar, and into the air proper.

"Landing gear is frelled again." Said Jax, rolling his eyes.

"I swore I got all of the Spider-rats. I killed fifteen of them!" Protested Kaird, patting his pistol for emphasis. "If they chewed through the damned coolant lines again, then it's either something else, or an entirely different infestation."

"Or you missed one." Teased Val, turning in her chair to look at Mara. "Where to, Mara?"

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

The inside was certainly no better than the exterior.

Though the two had laughed at her for finding the ship appealing, Kal still could not help herself from admiring it as they made their way down the central hallway, and when they came upon the cockpit she actually opted to stand just outside of the threshold so as not to impose herself too heavily upon the crew. This wasn't her ship, after all, if it had been she'd have been sat right there with the consoles and controls all around her, and the only way she knew to stop herself from messing with things was to take a step back. So she did.

What she wouldn't give to tidy the place up. Not of dirt or clutter, but just to breathe life back into it again. Whenever the Solar Monarch took a particularly heavy blow, or when it fell into a temporary state of disrepair, she and Borsk had worked tirelessly to patch her up again. The old Bothan would have loved this, seen it as a real project, and just that thought alone made her want to.

But she couldn't.

It was going to be a difficult job, for that reason alone.

"Somethin' was drippin' outside," she began, though her voice trailed off half way through the sentence as she thought better of it. Kaird didn't seem to be in the best of moods, and confirming his thoughts wasn't helping anyone in that exact moment. Instead she looked across at Val and tried to remember the docking bay she'd used for Solitude.

"Hangar 39," she said, tone suddenly filled with certainty, "I warn you, though, we didn't exactly break atmosphere of our own volition. She's pretty fethed up right now, part of the reason I needed this job." No point in holding that information from them any further, they were going to see her fairly soon after all and then there'd be no hiding it. She was still flight worthy, much like the Rusty Riot was, but Kal had a lot of work ahead of her to get her back in complete working order.

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

"Somethin' was drippin' outside..."

"There's always something dripping outside..." Muttered Kaird crossing his arms. At that exact moment, something small moved in the lifesupport vent above their heads - quickly, the skittering of many legs carried the small something deeper into the ship, a lone chittering echoing down through the vent grating behind it. "That...that proves nothing." Replied Kaird unconvincingly as Val and Jax turned to look at him, respective brows raised. Under their gaze, he unholstered his pistol, set the weapon on stun, and turned on his heel. "I, uh, left something in my quarters." And with that, he disappeared through the door, cursing under his breath - apparently on a new hunt for a Spider-rat.

"Sure." Replied Jax deadpan, standing from the co-pilot's seat. Now that they were in the air, Val wouldn't need that much help in the flight department, not unless they needed to land, jump to hyperspace, or entered combat. "I'm going to lay out the gear. We won't have much time to prepare before we go into the meeting."

"Hangar 39...I warn you, though, we didn't exactly break atmosphere of our own volition. She's pretty fethed up right now, part of the reason I needed this job."

"A spacer with a beat up ship? Impossible!" Replied Jax cheekily as he left the cockpit and headed down the spine.

"Ignore him; he's scared of anything with more than four legs!" Replied Val, shouting the last part towards the retreating Jax.

"It's not natural!" Jax shouted back after a few moments.

"You have, like, six limbs!" That doesn't make any sense!" Retorted Val. When Jax didn't reply - either ignoring her or out of ear shot, she just waved a hand dismissively. "Hangar thirty nine it is. All aboard the Spider-rat express." Expertly, she pushed the controls forward, and the Rusty Riot took through the air in all her boxy and rusty grace. It was a short flight - hangar forty nine wasn't that far away in terms of air travel, and all too soon they were coming in to skim the ground next to, well, a rather beat up starfighter. Hitting the button to lower the fore landing ramp, Val jerked her head behind her. "I'm not about to land this tub of rust - hop off the ramp, and then take your ship into port side container three. Should be more than enough room in there." She punctuated the sentence with another jab of a button, and somewhere deep in the ship, a clang resonated; the sound of the container doors grinding open.

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

Kal got the feeling Kaird didn't much like her.

If that was the case, she didn't really understand why she'd been permitted to join in the job. If that wasn't the case, though, then perhaps he was just having a bad day. A little gruff around the edges. Whatever the case, when he responded to her she simply shrugged it off and glanced across to Val. It wasn't until the man was out of the cockpit, off chasing the spider-rat which was scuttling around the ships inner workings, that she vocalized her thoughts.

"I do somethin' to piss him off, already?"

Jax was the next to leave, making it so where it was just the girls left in the cockpit. She found a seat, not the copilot though as she knew she'd be too tempted to fall back to old habits, and grinned as the man made his exiting remark.

"Ah, so is that why he's leavin' the Captain to hunt the intruders?"

Truth be told, Kal didn't actually know if spider-rats had more than four limbs but what did that matter? She'd been fortunate enough to have never seen one, nevermind faced an infestation of the buggers.

Val made quick work of the journey to hangar thirty nine, during which Kal watched her expertly navigate the spaceport. Standing up she headed to the ramp, talking back to the cockpit as she went.

"Got it, I'll bring her around. If she'll even fly..." The latter was muttered under her breath, once the ramp was lowered and she was already making her way down. Old Solitude was looking much worse for wear than even Kal recalled, and as she came over to the A-Wing she let out a rather guilty sigh and ran a hand along the underside of her hull.

"Sorry girl," she mumbled, "Those damn pirates came out of nowhere. We'll getcha fixed up, just as soon as I can."

Then she jumped up on top, lifting the hatch to the cockpit and deftly firing up her engines. There was a splutter, almost as though she wasn't going to fly at all, before the starfighter rose up and the landing gear retracted. No sense in knocking it off getting the ship into the container.

Taking it easy, despite the fact that her ship was known for its speed, she gently brought Solitude in to dock and released the landing gears once more. Before leaving the ship she grabbed a few things, and even when she was out and by the underbelly she opened the exterior hatch to the storage compartment and pulled out a rather heavy case of rations.

It was no secret to those who knew the girl that she had an ungodly appetite, after all, it would be best if she didn't eat through the crews' reserves.

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

"I do somethin' to piss him off, already?"

Val's hands froze a little on the controls, and she cleared her throat nervously. "Uh...well, the Captain is always a little sideways when he's on overpopulated planets like this. His species is isolationist. But, truth be told...there's something off, extra off, about this trip. You wouldn't believe it, but this is the most irritable and upset I've seen him in months. Most of the time he's lazy, taking naps, and is making one of his stupid jokes." Once again, her hands twisted on the controls nervously. Yes, this was extremely unusual behavior, and it did more to unnerve Val than practically anything else. Something was afoot, and if it was something big enough to throw Kaird off balance...well, that didn't spell smooth sailing for the rest of the crew and ship. "And...well...truth be told, he doesn't handle redheads very well. Don't ask me why."

"Ah, so is that why he's leavin' the Captain to hunt the intruders?"

"Shove it, Red!" Jax shouted back good-naturedly before turning the corner.

And then they were there. Val brought the Rusty Riot close to the ground, and Mara made her way to her own ship; Val watching through the viewport all the while. Once Mara had departed the ship, she hit the switch to close the ramp, and then hit another one - this one opening the interior bulkhead that lead from the cargo container to the spine of the ship. Within the dimly lit container, a few emergency lights switched on, and a red light above the bulkhead switched to a sickly green, indicating it was unlocked. With a groan, the container hatch slid closed before pressurizing with a hiss. With another groan and protest of metal, the ship slipped back into the air, and lurched off - headed towards their meeting point.

Through the bulkhead, even with several centimeters of metal between Mara and the crew, a loud conversation could be heard between Jax and Kaird.

"Just use your cybernetics! It'll all be over in a flash!" Pleaded Jax, sounding distinctly and uncharacteristically whiny in the presence of skittering vermin. Even now, skittering legs could be heard, knocking over what sounded like cans.

"I'll be damned if I have to use augments to kill a rat! A good blaster is all these things need; no, deserve!" Retorted Kaird, several stun blasts from his pistol punctuating his words. The sound of a LOT of cans being knocked over flooded the room, followed by a skittering, a chittering, and the sound of what sounded like a light swinging on a chain.

"It's on the ceiling!" Shrieked Jax, his base and gravelly voice somehow going up several octaves into a falsetto. "Space Gods, Jatayus, and all other deities combined Kaird! Kill it! Kill it with fire!" The clunk of heavy rattled and thudded, and something large sounded like it was being powered up.

"We are not using a repeating blaster on rats, let alone on the inside of our ship!" Snapped Kaird, to the disappointed groan of Jax. "Hit the bulkhead door; maybe we can corral them into the container, then open the container to space."

A meaty hand slammed against the other side of the bulkhead, an electronic beep following. The bulkhead hissing open, it revealed...quite the bizarre sight. Kaird and Jax stood in the spine of the ship, next to what appeared to be a crude trap made from ration tins, a length of wire, and a power cell. Each was dressed in semi-armor; Kaird with plastoid greaves, vambraces, and the chestplate of what looked like stormtrooper armor, and Jax in what looked to be a semi-armored technicians suit, replete with pockets full of tools. Kaird stood with his pistol drawn, swinging it wildly about - while Jax held a large and deadly looking T-21 repeating blaster rifle equipped with a pan-style power pack. All around them, skittering across the floor, climbing the walls, walking and running inverted across the ceiling, were spider-rats.

Hellish creatures, the small vermin looked like typical rats, albeit with eight limbs, all elongated to gangly proportions and tipped with sharp climbing claws. Their tails long and whip like, it was really the eyes that sold the "spider" part of their heritage - numbering from four to six, the exact number varied from rat to rat, but all were beady and black and ringed the head, giving them superb visual acuity. With the bulkhead whooshing open, a number of the rats hissed and squealed - revealing long lizard-like tongues in the process - and dashed into the dark and inviting space of the container. Most, though, opted to stay in the room with the two angry humanoids - their numbers apparently emboldening them and making them territorial.

"I...I just missed one. Frell, they breed like Lepi!" Said Kaird defensively, firing his blaster at a pair of rats on the ceiling. Both saw Kaird raise his blaster - and had apparently learned what the motion meant - and leapt away from each other onto the floor, well out of the way of the stun bolt. "Frelling spider-rats!"

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

Kal stepped fthrough the bulkhead door into chaos.

With her worldly possessions and supplies in hand, and the box of rations making it particularly difficult to look head on, she was forced to look around the box in order to avoid stumbling headlong into the conflict of Men vs Spider-Rats. There were so many of the foul little creatures that even she was a little unnerved, though as a slew of them skittered by and she danced around them she swiftly raised one foot and brought it stomping down into the general trajectory of one of the buggers.

The sound it made as it crunched underfoot was enough to turn the stomachs of most, though for Kal it was simply a little gross and less revolting.

"Blimey," she breathed, as a couple of them turned tail and more passed her by, "You fella's need a hand?"

She hefted the box over to her right shoulder, and glanced across to a panicked Jax who was clearly having the time of his life.

"Let me find a place for this," she nodded at the rations, before either of them had a chance to accept or reject her help, "that those rats ain't gonna get to, then I'll be back."

Then she skipped on ahead, careful of where she set her foot, and ventured back toward the cockpit. It wasn't until she was inside, and the guys were far behind her, that she broke into genuine laughter. So much so that tears formed in her eyes. Without offering much in the way of explanation to Val she dropped the box into one of the corners and shook her head.

"Oh, this is too good," she breathed. Certainly not what she'd expected to be doing when she woke up that morning, that was for sure.

[member="Kaird Galfridian"]

 

[Roth Likonis]

"Oh, this is too good..."

Looking over her shoulder at Mara, Val raised an eyebrow quizzically. "...They're fighting the rats?" Val chuckled and shook her head, pulling the ship around through traffic on the planet's upper city. "I swear..." Shaking her head again, Val hit the button for the intercom, not taking her eyes off the viewport as she did so. "Attention crew, we'll be at our destination in five to ten minutes, give or take. I suggest you get everything, uh, squared away as quickly as possible." In the distance, a thin needle like building towered over the rest of hte buildings in the city - from it, several pylons radiated from it, very clearly docking pylons for large craft.

Back down the spine, the shouting seemed to intensify.

"Use your damn augments!" Roared Jax, his blaster dangling on its strap against his chest.

"Never!" Bellowed Kaird back in response.

"You literally just wasted a Houk not thirty minutes ago! Kill the damn rats Kaird!" Said Jax, poking a finger into Kaird's chest.

"Bite my Shenzhou!" Snapped Kaird in reply, his gun swinging to blast one of the creatures - deftly, the rat kept moving, apparently quite sure of its ability to dodge the humanoid.

"I spent eight years in the damn mines, living with rats and spiders both, and I am not about to stay on a ship that has a weird mutant hybrid of the two!" Growled Jax, unpinning a grenade from his belt and holding it up for emphasis.

"Now you definitely can't use that in here." Protested Kaird, holding up his hands defensively.

"Augs or grenades Kaird! Time to make a choice! Heh...heheh....hehehe!" Said Jax, with a maniacal laugh and a crazed gleam in his eyes. Leveling a finger Kaird's way, Jax narrowed his eyes, a wide and crafty smile slowly forming. "And...I'll make your favorite dish. I have some creds stashed away from my old job. Was saving 'em for a rainy day. But if you kill these things, I'll make you the best damn Nerfburgers you've ever tasted."

"...With wastril bread buns? And Jerba cheese?" Asked Kaird hesitantly. It had, apparently, been a very long time since the crew of the Rusty Riot had eaten actual cooked food.

"You're thinking too small. I'm talking seared prime nerfsteak on choya flatbread, topped with groat cheese and a delicious corellian bourbon barbecue sauce that will make you think that you're Emperor Palpatine. Served with a side of Hubba chips, of course." Said Jax, bringing up his datapad and flashing a picture of a four armed chef on the pad. "I read the recipe in Travels with Gormaanda: Cooking in the Core. And I'm itching to test it out on the Pacanth Reach's foremost expert on Nerfburgers."

Kaird for his part, was practically drooling. "You...you have a frelling deal. But we're picking the ingredients up right after we're done here. None of that cooking it after the job is done chit." With a single motion, he flicked his pistol from stun to kill.

"Deal." Replied Jax firmly, slowly backing away from the man and giving him space to aim and shoot. Even now, the rats swarmed across the hall, a good dozen of them at least. Seeing Mara - presumably - approaching, Jax held out an arm. "We're going with the Rusty Riot's whirlwind supreme tactic. Which is to say I bribed the Captain and he's going to kill most of them. Our job is to kill stragglers."

Breathing quietly, Kaird closed his eyes, listening to the skittering and chittering. His pistol rising, the rats froze to look at him, ready to dodge the alien's next shot. Freezing, though, Kaird held his fire, waiting for the sounds of rats coming out of cover, looking at him quizzically, before he actually fired. He moved far, far faster than he did when he was in the bar. His arm disappearing into a fuzzy blur, the loud *snap* of his clothing against his arm punctuated the deafening scream of what sounded like a single continuous shot from his blaster pistol - in actuality a series of shots placed so close together, that they created the auditory illusion of a single sound. Rats fell like rain, smoking holes in their bodies filling the hall with the acrid smell of burnt flesh and hair.

Four rats, however, turned and squeaked in terror, running away from the man as fast as possible. Kaird held his fire, then, apparently unwilling to risk a ricochet in the confined space - lest it hit one of his companions.

"Brace yourself!" Bellowed Jax, as if some great army was about to close with the pair and due battle. Kaird, for his part, simply crossed his arms, watching the spectacle of a terrified Jax deal with his worst nightmare. With a bellowing alien roar, Jax brought hand tools down upon the heads of the first two rats, a hammer and wrench respectively crushing their small bodies. The other two ran right past, heading for Mara. "Don't let them get away! A single one will start the whole process again!"

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

______________________________________________________________​

​

Grizmallt, The Core Worlds // Aboard the Rusty Riot​

Squaring Off Against Spider-Rats // With [member="Kaird Galfridian"]​

♫ // Left A Clouded Mind And A Heavy Heart​

But I Was Sure We Could See A New Start​

______________________________________________________________​

Leaving the box of rations in the hopefully-safe-from-spider-rat cockpit, Kal was quick to step back out into the hallway just as Val's voice rang through the intercoms.

It had been much too long since she'd last tangled with an actual crew; while she had worked jobs alongside others they had always been short and sweet, planet-bound, in fact more often than not she point blank refused to sign up for anything which would have her traversing hyperlanes with others. After countless years going it alone in her Solitude it was a difficult thing to come to grips with, and though this crew was smaller and made up of different types of people it still had the effect of reminding her of the Solar Monarch and the family she'd found within its crew.

That brought with it a mixture of serenity and longing, a mournful mood which swelled within her core and threatened to spill out, in lamentation of her losses. To this day the memory of Captain Kilian throwing himself between Kal and that damn blaster bolt replayed within her mind, when she closed her eyes to sleep at night, or took too long of a respite from work. Perhaps that was why she was always hopping from job to job, perpetually tracking down a lead.

At least in her Solitude, with all the stars around her, her mind could rest.

Kal focused back in on the room around the time a deal had just been finalized. What that deal was she couldn't say for sure, as she hadn't been paying close enough attention, but when she stepped too close to the Captain Jax's arm shot out to keep her at bay. With instructions given, the woman gave a soft nod of her head. "Sounds good to me."

She was not at all prepared for what came next, however, the sight and the smells which permeated the air both mesmerizing and nauseating at once. In fact, Kal could almost feel her eardrums rupturing from that long drawn out noise that shrieked through the ship.

As four of those blasted creatures ran their way, she narrowed her eyes in focus. Jax got two of them quite effortlessly, and though she managed to trample one underfoot the other scurried on past. Not wanting to be the cause of further frustration or damages, she turned all at once and - far swifter than she had any right - launched her trusty blade straight at it. She'd been forced to do similar on countless occasions, so the very act of drawing it into her grasp only to loose it was ingrained within her mind at this point, more muscle memory than anything else.

It hit its target with a gross thud, and though the vile creature seemed to skitter for a moment soon enough it was belly up, legs twitching. And then? Well, then it stopped entirely.

"I can kinda see why they unnerve you," she said offhandedly to Jax, her head tilted slightly to the left as she'd watched the last moments of the spectacle with morbid curiosity.