Djebelle's words hit Kara like a punch in the gut. She drops her hand and rocks back in her chair, a thousand-yard stare on her face.
"Me? It's all I know...all I've ever known..."
The thought never occurred to Kara to be anything other than she was. Change? She didn't even know where to start.
Djebelle gives a shaky smile."'S a big Galaxy out there, hon. Lots to learn, lotta life-changing experiences to have. Be a shame if none of them came your way, right? Look at me: I used to twist people's minds in my favour for fun and profit..." She pauses, owlishly. "OK, so mostly for profit, but, y'know, same difference. Now I'm more careful about it and I don't just do it for my own selfish reasons." She must be drunk. She never reveals this much about herself.
She gives a small sigh, followed by a series of hiccups. "Not gonna make you do anything you don't wanna, hon. But the Force brought me past your door for a reason. Aren't you even a bit curious 'bout what you could become?"
Suddenly cold, she shivers and hugs herself, arms wrapped tightly around, self-contained.
"Djebelle..." Kara starts to say, but then stops cold. This is too much. She doesn't want to look any deeper, afraid of what she might find.
"Time for you to go." Is all she says, turning away and climbing into her bunk.
*
One by one, Aristi looks out some of the agents who had been at Shantipole Station: Djebelle, Juviest, Kara, Thrassk, and Aneira. "Hey! I wanted to say thanks for helping me get out off that station. I wasn't sure what those Imperials were going to do. I hear you've got a freighter? Fancy making some money? I've got a friend who's got some work, simple transport work, nothing illegal that I know of. With your help I think we could make it a success."
Juviest grunts at the Bothan. "Well, I did waive a significant retirement benefit when I left the Guild. Going to be hard to afford my lakeside retreat on Naboo if I just sit around and drink all day, wouldn't it." Drinking away all the profits doesn't help, either... He gives the Bothan a pat on the shoulder. "You can count me in, uh, Aristi.", he says, lighting up another cigar. "Though, a bit of advice from a fossil like myself, there's no thing as a simple work. If you say that, there's probably a rancor waiting to happen." He takes a breath, then grins at the Bothan. "I'm just messing with you about the rancor. Happened to me once, though...", he says, grabbing the Bothan by his shoulder and starting to talk about old jobs, when every port was a free port, and every job was filled with excitement.
"...And so the Aqualish falls through the fish tank, and Mer just looks at me with the cheesiest grin you've seen on a human, and quips, "And here I was about to say he's out of his element!" He was a bit of a ronto, Mer...", until he realises the Bothan's nodding off. "Bah, sorry. So, what about you, kid? Seen some sights?", he asks, pouring another glass to Aristi.
The devaronian cocks her head as Aristi talks of a job offer.
Thats an interesting proposition Aristi, and I need to get off this rock for a while, clear my head. If you've use for a slicer or scout then you can count me in
She glances around
I don't know where Djebelle got to, but she's probably sleeping it off in her bunk, maybe ask her tomorrow?
Aneira stands and stretches. Even at her full height she's in no danger of looming over anyone, her sleight form barely filling out her clothes.
Well I'll be turning in, let's meet aboard the freighter tomorrow and grab breakfast together, all of us. Then we can talk things over and make plans
she tries on a smile, before quickly disappearing off.
Kara's head feels like a bantha is trying to force it's way out through her eyes. Getting ready to face the day - yeah that's almost than she can handle.
'...that's one good thing about being a freelancer, no reveille and no zero-dark-thirty LOD times...'
It's a very rough Kara that heads down to the Kessel's Folly to meet with everyone. She finds a dark space away from the bright bay lights to sit and kick up her feet.
"Time for you to go." Is all she says, turning away and climbing into her bunk.
Djebelle pouts, but does as she's told.
==========
The next day, she feels terrible but is up early nevertheless, apparently trying to walk it off; she leaves their quarters and is gone for most of the day.
Later, evidently feeling much better, the purple-haired girl returns without much preamble, sidling up to Aneira and smiling at the Devaronian woman. "Sorry our earlier conversation cut off - I got a bit... overwhelmed." She's not going to admit to being a Force user to someone she's only just met.
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Anyway, I had a meeting with - with a contact of mine and he handed me this." She holds out a datachip. "Could you help me see what's on it, please? It might be dangerous information, but I guess if you spy for the Alliance then that's just another day with a 'y' in it, right?"
She gives her best disarming smile.
Aristi makes his way in the morning to the freighter Kessel's Folly, counting off on his fingers who he'd expect to see. Let's see...
- Djebelle had given an affirmative last night, though when he'd spoken to her she hadn't seemed at her best. The same could be said this morning when he arrives to see her already up and about, stowing gear on the freighter. It must have been a rough night, but she was gamely trying to work it off.
- Juviest seemed like a yes as well. Aristi had enjoyed the old spacer's wild tales, though it was true that he had been nodding off at the end. He'd never known a Sullustan to talk so much!
- Aristi was glad Aneira would be accompanying this trip. He congratulated her on her slicing skills to help the ships escape the Imperial blockade, and asserts that someone with her skills would always be welcome.
- The Bothan nearly stumbles over Kara's boot as he brings his own gear aboard, finding her sprawled in an acceleration couch in the dim light. Aristi offers a jaunty hello but in response is greeted by a stern visage.
- The Human Rann he hadn't seen since the group had escaped Shantipole Station. It would seem he had a different agenda.
- Thrassk he hadn't heard from either. He found himself idling around the ship, waiting for the Trandoshan to arrive. He had trouble reading the bounty hunter, he seemed to be direct in his speaking but Trandoshans, well they could be so cold!
As they are preparing for departure, Aristi provides some further details of the plan. "A contact of mine is looking for a crew to collect some equipment and deliver to a location in the Hoth system. It's in the Outer Rim. I had to look it up, but it's near Bespin. There's a data chip here listing our contacts, coordinates, and list of cargo to collect, and a promissory sequence for 10,000 credits when we deliver the gear. I know Juviest is expecting us to run into trouble, but I reckon if we can get in and out of Nar Shadaa without stepping on any limbs, then we should be alright."
Thrask spend the better part of his downtime sparring and working out, what time he didn't spend doing such things he spent eating. He didn't even bother sleeping as there was few chances once on a ship to get any real exercise done and plenty of rack time.
He didn't bother removing the blade when he went in to see the Rebellions doctor before he was to head out and meet the others. He pushed the doc back when he went to touch the blade telling him it was resting fine where it was. Once given a clean bill of health, he grabbed up his foot locker and slung it over his shoulder before heading out to the dock.
He spied the bothan and did his best to ignore the minor itch he got when he saw a fine pelt. He lumbered up and dropped his gear at the man's feet and stared down at the Bothan. "Job?" was all that came from the reptilian's lips as he stared at him expecting a response.
Juviest notices Thrask entering the ship as he enters the bay."Morning, Trandoshan.", he says, carrying around a mug, probably filled with something stronger than java juice.
As he enters the Kessel's folly, he waves at the others, giving a grin as he salutes the LT warily. He takes a sip. "So, this your old tub? Doesn't look like a prise warbird, but I'm damn sure it's better than it looks." He sits on an old crate, cracking his back.
Having the missioned explained to him, he lets out a chuckle, as he turns towards Aristi. "Ha, it isn't the limbs you worry on Nar Shaddaa, it's the slimy tails. I haven't been there in... what, twenty odd years. I wonder if people I knew back then are still alive. Probably not." He takes another sip. "I'm not going to turn out a job right now, but I'd recommend asking what the cargo is." He gives a glance at Djebelle. "And you negotiating a few credits extra, kiddo, if it's something... uncomfortable."
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Aneira nods as Djebelle comes on board and approaches her.
Completely understandable, think nothing of it Djebelle.
she eyes the human woman and then shrugs
For what it's worth I agree with you, walking up to Kara and acting like she expected me too certainly got me nowhere and was completely the behaviour she expected from an Alliance intelligent agent...
she maintains her gaze for a few seconds, leaving her comment hanging there for a moment before raising a hand to point at the chip in Djebelle's hand
I'm happy to take a look...
she sits cross-legged on one of the couches and hooks up her slicing gear to the chip, giving it her full attention.
Computers GYY = 3 successes, 1 advantage, 1 Triumph
The complexity of the chip's encryption is akin to an ancient puzzlebox, layers of data looping around and intertwining with traps to delete the data contents or even create a code feedback loop to damage an unwary slicer's gear. Looking at it from this perspective greets Aneira with nothing but a plascrete wall, no way to break through. So she cheats. The others see nothing more than a look of stern concentration as the devaronian woman's fingers fly across the keys, but on the screen she shifts the scan matrix of her deck to see how the data is flowing, not where it's going to or coming from. Streams if incandescent alphanumerics scroll across her screen looking like her machine has crashed, yet... there! Eyes widening in glee, she sees the moment where one piece of code passes information to another as it finishes its subroutine, running a self-check to ensure it hadn't been changed. Aneira sets to work.
Five minutes later she has crafted a jury-rigged program that slides in between the security code snippets, transparently passing code to and fro as it simply waits and learns. Aneira checks her work and for the first time in a quarter of an hour, glances back up at Djebelle.
I think I might have something...
She waits for the woman to come over, then slides the screen around with a smile on her face. At Djebelle's blank look she glances back and sees the screen still full of random code.
Ah sorry!
She reaches over and types a final command, the code responding like it was a living creature, pulsating with segments shifting, mutating and finally fading away completely to reveal a folder structure with the data files all finally visible. The screen is left showing a single box with the message 'Display files Y/N?'.
Aneira gestures with a sweep of her hand
It's your data, feel free to borrow my gear if you want to take it somewhere more private
she sits cross-legged on one of the couches and hooks up her slicing gear to the chip, giving it her full attention.
The complexity of the chip's encryption is akin to an ancient puzzlebox, layers of data looping around and intertwining with traps to delete the data contents or even create a code feedback loop to damage an unwary slicer's gear. Looking at it from this perspective greets Aneira with nothing but a plascrete wall, no way to break through. So she cheats. The others see nothing more than a look of stern concentration as the devaronian woman's fingers fly across the keys, but on the screen she shifts the scan matrix of her deck to see how the data is flowing, not where it's going to or coming from. Streams if incandescent alphanumerics scroll across her screen looking like her machine has crashed, yet... there! Eyes widening in glee, she sees the moment where one piece of code passes information to another as it finishes its subroutine, running a self-check to ensure it hadn't been changed. Aneira sets to work.
Five minutes later she has crafted a jury-rigged program that slides in between the security code snippets, transparently passing code to and fro as it simply waits and learns. Aneira checks her work...
Thrask listened to the plan and shook his head. "Sounds boring but if you're willing to pay for me to lay about then by all means. Gonna inspect this bucket and see if it's even able to survive a fire fight." he said before picking back up his gear and taking it to the Starboard cargo bay and setting himself up a space as an armory/trophy room/quarters. He didn't much care for bunking in a common room.
He went about the ship looking around mostly to see what it had in terms of defending itself or taking another ship. He shook his head from all that he saw before heading off the ship and looking around at the outside.
He hissed a bit at what all he found. This thing literally was a flying brick. At least it had some combat capability but this was just sad. He walked up to a technician and snatched the datapad out of his hand. He began scrolling through the Alliance's database looking to see if they had any equipment on hand to actually upgrade the bucket. He also looked to see if they had an extra Astromech and some mouse droids to spare. It never hurt to have the little buggers zooming about.
Aneira leaves Djebelle to examine the data files, grabbing the one small bag she brought on board and taking herself on a tour of the ship. After a few minutes she picks the crew quarters furthest away from the passenger ramp near the port cargo bay, dropping her bag on the bed and going straight out again. Plenty of time to unpack once they were in transit.
She walks back via Thrask's new trophy and shrine area, raising an eyebrow but knowing to leave well alone. She nods at him as he wrestles an absurdly heavy cargo container into a more agreeable position.
Coming back to the main area she arrives mid-conversation as the team discusses upgrades.
I've always been a fan of speed and maneuverability, plus it would be good to get some Droid support for repairs and general maintenance
I've always been a fan of speed and maneuverability, plus it would be good to get some Droid support for repairs and general maintenance
Juviest nods. "I guess we could probably go and grab a better Ion Turbine. It's not like we didn't give your Alliance two ships for the price of them returning us one.", he snickers.
He scratches his head. "I suppose we could also try for a better hyperdrive. Just installing it is fine, but if you don't mind me fiddling with it, I can make it do the Kessel run in 14 parsecs. Or have it give up on us in the middle of pirate space. Fifty-fifty."
He bites into another one of his cigars. "As for more offense, there's the saying, you can put lekku on a Gamorrean, but you can't make him dance. The ship's a freighter, and even if we could fit a Turbolaser on it, we'd still be a bit undergunned. We can make it into a decent smuggling tub, however." He lights the cigar up, leaving a curling trail of blue smoke towards the ceiling.
He stands up and takes his mug in the sink. "I'm sure the cantina isn't going to miss it." He points towards the cabin next to the pilot's chambers. "I'm calling shotgun on this one. I'll be co-piloting, and it's rude to make me walk that long of a distance." Plus, I can run if there's something wrong with the engine.
Djebelle nods gratefully at Aneira, and throws her a smile. "Thanks, hon. Good to have people who can do what I can't... Let's see what it says. Hm. 'We have left a gift for you as well as your hairy friend. You will find it on the planet Triton at coordinates 13.827412, 12.304688. This is the first step on your journey.' - what is that supposed to mean?!"
She racks her brains to see if she can remember anything about the planet Triton, either in terms of current facts or in terms of legends. Her memory is woefully incomplete - but hey, it's a big Galaxy, OK?
Aneira's brow furrows as Djebelle recites the message to her.
'Orange friend'...?
Her eyes narrow
Exactly where did you get this data cube Djebelle?
she also calls over her shoulder
Aristi, how far away from Nar Shaddaa is Triton please? My stellar cartoraphy leaves a lot be be desired and there are no astromech droids here yet to help...
she also ponders what the other have suggested about desired upgrades, and puts through a request for a priority refit and any droids that can be spared, throwing her scant weight behind the request and crossing her fingers the Alliance was feeling generous...
Aneira's brow furrows as Djebelle recites the message to her.
'Orange friend'...?
Her eyes narrow
Exactly where did you get this data cube Djebelle?
Djebelle shrugs. "Like I said, it was given me by a ... contact. Rodian named Meki. Said he's here on behalf of some unnamed types to make friends. These are coordinates to a box in a secret place. Said that when I can gain access to the box I will have earned the "gift" - and the trust of "them" - and he said hopefully vice versa."
A small frown - temporarily - wrinkles the smooth skin of her forehead. "All I know of the Tritonites is they developed a faith around the writings and teachings of the mysterious Gactimus. Travelers to the moons or the planet were required to tithe away money or possessions to Gactimus, and some spacers were forced to join the mysterious cult."
She pauses, and gives her best dimpled smile, complete with crooked half-grin. "Anyone want to help me get some weird place on behalf of some unknown folks, pick up an unspecified gift?"
Early the next morning, before most of the others are up, Kara makes a point to run down Pollard at his new station. "Pollard, got a minute?" she says, pulling him aside.
"Listen, you've seen that tub we have - the Kessel's Folly? Not a bad ship, but she's a bit of a fixer-upper if we want her to be useful. Now I know we can't get a full-blown warship out of her, but we can get a decent blockade runner. She's got CEC guts, so we can work with that."
She hands him a folded note. On it, Kara has listed the what she thinks will the Folly a good runner. Speed, upgraded comms, the works. The note reads:
- Girodyne Ter40 HO Ion Turbine.
- SFS S/ig-30 Hyperdrive system.
- SFS Ranger Long Range Transceiver.
- Taim & Bak LR-375a Sureshot ATA.
She looks at Pollard as he reviews the note. "I thought, you know, being a Captain in the Alliance and all, I could get this done. Maybe you could drop a word with Admiral Ackbar to get the wheels moving, eh?"
Ok thank you Djebelle, I have to admit I am curious, I would accompany you if for no other reason than to find out why the cube mentioned me as well as you, given we barely know each other...
she moves across to the main lounge area with her slicing deck and collapses in a heap of elbows and knees as she types away at breakneck speed.
Aristi agrees this is a good time to find out what this equipment the group is supposed to be shipping consists of. He slides in the datachip to check the manifest. He also tries to triangulate Nar Shadaa, Hoth, and Triton in comparison with the group's present position. Not knowing much about either Hoth or Triton however, he's finding it difficult to complete the computations.
Computers check (if needed to read datachip) - 2 successes, 3 threats, 1 triumph
Astrogation check - 1 failure, 1 advantage
Thrask looks up from the datapad he had stole to take a look at what Kara had written on the flimsyplast. He snorted and handed her the datapad with the list of recommended equipment for it.
The list reads as follows:
Fabritech KR-770 Sharpshooter Targeting Computer
Cerro-Ablative Sheets
Ram Attachment
Boarding Pods (Has no actual mod cost mentioned.But Specifically mentioned under the Consular Class Cruiser as a thing. I'm not sure why there would be any reason not to be able to retrofit one to fill an escape pod's place on this bad boy. Pg 276 AoR Core)
He looked at Kara and shook his head. "Running in a starfight will get you killed. If you are found by one, you'll eventually be overran whether you like it or not piloting a Freighter if the other pilot is even remotely competent. Set this thing up to survive closing width, ram it down their throat and take out their personnel. Kill em, use the other ship as collateral to get ours repaired and maybe a small bonus. Rinse and repeat till we can afford a Freighter that can carry a couple of fighters like one of them Gonzati. Then worry about staying in a sustained fight and defending a ship." he said with a bit of a huff.
Early the next morning, before most of the others are up, Kara makes a point to run down Pollard at his new station. "Pollard, got a minute?" she says, pulling him aside.
"Listen, you've seen that tub we have - the Kessel's Folly? Not a bad ship, but she's a bit of a fixer-upper if we want her to be useful. Now I know we can't get a full-blown warship out of her, but we can get a decent blockade runner. She's got CEC guts, so we can work with that."
She hands him a folded note. On it, Kara has listed the what she thinks will the Folly a good runner. Speed, upgraded comms, the works. The note reads:
- Girodyne Ter40 HO Ion Turbine.
- SFS S/ig-30 Hyperdrive system.
- SFS Ranger Long Range Transceiver.
- Taim & Bak LR-375a Sureshot ATA.
She looks at Pollard as he reviews the note. "I thought, you know, being a Captain in the Alliance and all, I could get this done. Maybe you could drop a word with Admiral Ackbar to get the wheels moving, eh?"
Pollard chuckles as he lifts his comm, with a few words he gives the list to the Admiral. After listening to the reply he set the comm down and says "we will do what we can for your ship, contact Bulva at the dock to get it installed. He is the only one on this outpost who knows what we really have available. Oh and Captain, We will of course ask for a return favor one day."
Triton is near the middle of the Rimma trade route past Sullust.
Hoth is relatively nearby at the end of the Corellian Trade Spine.
You are near Kessel on an large abandoned asteroid. This is not far from Nar Shaddaa.
Kara nods at Pollard. "Of course we do, Pollard, wouldn't expect anything else."
-------------------------
Kara glares at Thrask. "Stick to what you know, Transdoshan. Clawing things, running around with knives sticking out of your chest, you know...leave the thinking to those of us who have experience with this sort of thing. Take a look at this ship...ramming?? Boarding?? Who are you going to board with? Djebelle? Alliance Intelligence over there?" She sweeps her arms about the small common area. "We get caught, we run. I'm not dying in some suicidal boarding action for your 'points' or whatever it is you collect. If they are big enough to catch us, they're damn sure big enough to crush us."
Kara was frustrated. At what she wasn't sure, but she damn sure wasn't used to being questioned. First Djebelle about her motivations, now this. She steps up to the big Transdoshan, her face a mask of anger as she looks up at him.
"Here's the part you won't like. I'm pulling rank...as a Captain with our new Alliance 'friends'. You know - the ones who are paying for these mods? This tub gets outfitted like a smuggler. Low key, doesn't draw attention. Not like a pirate with rams and boarding pods. Hard to explain if we have to stand in front some Imp customs agent. Don't like it? Join another outfit." She pauses for a moment, eye to eye with Thrask. Then she turns to face the others. "Anyone else have an opinion? File it with the 'Bureau That Cares', you can find them on Coruscant." Then she stalks off.
'...a little harsh, but it felt good. maybe the old Kara was still here after all...'
Aneira watches the exchange between Kara and Thrask warily, it was tense watching the two personalities butt heads. Both fierce and indomitable, she breathes a sigh of relief as no violence ensues.
I've already added my suggestions, we need a blockade runner not a gunship. As Kara says, whilst you might be a one Transdoshan army, the rest of us are ill suited to such boarding tactics, both physically and morally. I doubt the Alliance would provide upgrades with such an obvious malicious use
She watches Thrask carefully, ready to run in case he takes offence.
We should be thankful for anything we get really...
She moves off quickly.
I'll go see how soon the modifications can be installed so we've got a departure time
Thrask listened and sneered as she made light of his race's religion but all the same in the end he met her stare with one of his own till she began to stalk off and then began letting out a throaty laugh. "You humans always make me laugh. Rank, you forget I am not of your republic chain of command. I'm a mercenary. It's your call in the end, merely offering what my experience has taught me. You want to run, we run. The Republic pays my price in the end." he says shaking his head.
"If you don't want my opinion I'll keep it to myself, I'll just be over here waiting for you lot to kriff it up and my expertise to come into play. But just know that all those people you mentioned, only one is likely to be useful in the middle of a firefight. The rest of us are sitting on our asses waiting for the bucket to blow or get away. Either way, some of us are gonna be useful and the rest of us are gonna sit on our ass." he said before he threw the datapad back at the poor technician that he took it from, not bothering to be careful about.
He swirled about to see the little orange one say something in a somewhat timid manner before running. He shook his head and made his way up onto the freighter. He steals a random mattress from one of the bunks and tosses it over in the area he had been setting up for himself in the Starboard cargo bay.
The old Sullustan leans on the wall, shaking his head. He lets out a small trail of smoke. "Well aren't you both just the little rays of sunshine.", he quips as he crosses his arms, staring up at both at them. He takes a look at the notes. I hate being the voice of reason.
He takes a swig from his canteen. "Now, being pirates doesn't really sit with me either. I'm not going to look for a fight, unless I'm paid for it. Far as I'm concerned, you both got a point. The ram and the extra armour just draws extra attention, and I've no intention to look for a fight." He raises his hand at Thrask.
He turns his goggled eyes at Kara. "However, LT, the Alliance isn't paying for these mods. They're repaying us for the favour we did for them. Remember, taking care of a base, rescuing a number of their personnel, delivering an Admiral safe and securing them a couple of damn prototypes. If anything, they should be thankful that we don't want more." He sighs. "We don't need as many escape pods that we got, and if we can, we can fit a boarding pod in one of the slots. If anyone asks about the reason, we point him to the Trandoshan. He's a good enough explanation, and I can board better than any imperial marines or whatever it is they got." He leans on the wall, putting the cigar's ash in the garbage disposal.
"Plus, I don't care what rank they gave you, even if it's Queen of Naboo. You're the Captain, and I listen to what you got to say when we're in combat, but out of combat, your voice doesn't carry more weight than anyone else's." He crosses his arms once again. "That attitude might have served you well in the Empire, but out here it gets you either killed or alone. Which is damn sure the same thing." He flicks the cigar in the bin. "Now, I got a lot of boring diagnostics to run for the new gear, and I'm not getting any younger, so someone run and grab me a bottle of Correlian."
I few minutes later Bulva appears at the end of the boarding ramp, the tension still hanging in the air. "I hear this bucket is getting some upgrades", he looks around sensing the tension, "Ha, what did I say? "
All anyone hears as they ramble on is a loud: 'Bureau That Cares', coming from down the hall as Kara retires to her bunk.
She laid on the thin mattress, arms behind her head and staring at the ceiling. This wasn't her thing. Too many loose cannons, too many...opinions. Juviest's crack about 'out-of-combat' irked her. Combat or no, someone had to be in charge. The ops didn't begin and end with the shooting. Success or failure depended on a tight team working under a solid chain of command. There was no other way.
Not for the first time, Kara began to have serious doubts about her choices. Only now, with this Shantipole incident, she was really stuck on the outside. She didn't fit here, and she damn sure couldn't go back to the Empire. In a life forged by military structure and regimen, she was now adrift.
She didn't like it.
Triton is near the middle of the Rimma trade route past Sullust.
Hoth is relatively nearby at the end of the Corellian Trade Spine.
You are near Kessel on an large abandoned asteroid. This is not far from Nar Shaddaa.
The manifest of the shipment is
- 5 laser cutters
- maintenance gear for the laser cutters
- 800 meters of communication wire
- 5 crates of assorted construction materials
- 10 5 meter plasteel beams
The datachip also includes the payment for the gear, 20k credits
The contact on Nar Shaddaa is a Twi'lek named Proc Shmo. He can be found at the Frothing Bantha bar.
I few minutes later Bulva appears at the end of the boarding ramp, the tension still hanging in the air. "I hear this bucket is getting some upgrades", he looks around sensing the tension, "Ha, what did I say? "
Djebelle gives Bulva a smile, with a warning look and shake of her head to the others: keep it in the family, OK?
Aloud, she says only "Hey, good of you to stop by! Yeah, we're looking to get some improvements, good of the Alliance to help us out on this; but then, guess we did them some favours, too, right? So everyone's happy." She glosses over the fact that some are slightly less than happy right now. It'll pass.
"Anyway, Bulva, what are you up to next? Hanging here, or off gallivanting?" She's just making conversation and directing attention away from touchy subjects; she's not really fishing for information.
Well, no more than usual.
Aristi watches the interplay between Kara and Thrask, his tufted ears pinned back. The Bothan's fur twitches in scintillating colors, a sign of his unease at the exchange. All the same, as the Chiss and Trandoshan stalk away he mutters quietly to no one in particular, "I still think we should install a false transponder..."
When the details for the Hoth job come up on the screen, his spirits bounce back. He turns to those still present and points to the screen. "See? Just some basic parts. I wonder why they need laser cutters though? And why us? There must be a hundred spacers on Nar Shadaa already who could haul that cargo." Aristi stares thoughtfully at the screen for a few moments then adds, "I think we need to keep on Kara and Thrask's good sides. I think we might need them for this particular trip." Perhaps this isn't going to be such a milk run after all.
Juviest nods at Bulva, letting out a smile as he sees Djebelle handling the situation. Well at least the kid knows how to talk a lot... without being boring.
"Anyone want to help me get some weird place on behalf of some unknown folks, pick up an unspecified gift?"
The Sullustan nods at Djebelle. "Information is overrated anyway, kid. If you get a pet mynock, though, I'm not feeding it. Where would we be going?"
He nods at Aristi. "Astute, kid." Well look at that, people who think with their head. Not too common around here these days. "If you want to keep positive, maybe it's because your friend would rather pay you than someone else. Or if you'd rather be realistic, someone's expecting trouble on the way. Either way, 4 grand each is a decent price for the travel." Maybe I'll get me those rocket boots... Had my eye on those for years...
Looking around to make sure neither Kara nor Thrask are around, he grins. "Well, if you manage to find their good sides, let me know, kid. Fairly well balanced folk, with a chip on each shoulder.", he chuckles, takes a sip from his flask, nudging it towards the Bothan. "Real good at what they do, though. Both of them. About as good with people as a sarlacc pit, but we can't all be social diseases." He sighs. "Well, let's make sure Alliance Tech doesn't put the turbine in the wrong way around. Hah.", he finishes, putting his flask on his belt and going into maintenance.
Aneira takes some interest in the modifications, but seems eager to be off, spending her time sprawled untidily on one of the couches i the common area, usually hunched over a glowing screen.
He nods at Aristi. "Astute, kid." ... Either way, 4 grand each is a decent price for the travel."[/b]
A few hours later after Bulva's techs have come and gone he returns to check in. "The bucket is ready to fly. Your upgrades are in and your stores are loaded. I hear you are heading to Nar Shaddaa, any chance you can take these crates to the dock master at the south side hangar? I can give you 2000 credits for your troubles."
Aneira nods as Bulva asks for assistance.
Sure thing, we'd be happy to make some credits, but we're gonna need to see inside the crates first... you understand!
She tries to smile reassuringly, but her expression is more uncanny than friendly.
Throw them over in the starboard cargo bay, I think Thrask has borrowed the port one...
she moves through to the cockpit
So did we manage a beaten up R2 unit or are you going to have to calculate light speed the hard way?
she asks Aristi, evidently this passes for humor in her species given her smile.
Juviest nods at Bulva, letting out a smile as he sees Djebelle handling the situation. Well at least the kid knows how to talk a lot... without being boring.
"Anyone want to help me get some weird place on behalf of some unknown folks, pick up an unspecified gift?"The Sullustan nods at Djebelle. "Information is overrated anyway, kid. If you get a pet mynock, though, I'm not feeding it. Where would we be going?"
Djebelle smiles, if a touch shyly. "All I know is the box is located at these coordinates on the planet Triton. Could be anything. Or nothing. Curious to find out though!"
"So did we manage a beaten up R2 unit or are you going to have to calculate light speed the hard way?"
Juviest chuckles. "No droid. Guess you are counting on me remembering to carry the one!"
Juviest sits at the co-pilot's chair, nodding at Aristi. "Alright, kid, I'll run the charts for you.", he quips, staring at the console. "Why the hell are all these buttons so small...", he starts murmuring as soon as he gets behind the console.
With a substantial amount of Huttese words best kept unsaid, he starts plotting the course. "Now, here's a thing they don't teach you in piloting school, you know...", he starts speaking to the Bothan, a cue for every non-essential person to leave the cockpit unless they feel like listening to a rant about diagnostics and plotting.
-----
"...and that's why you should always check your landing gear for mynocks before you leave, kid.", he finishes as he pushes the button to enter the commands into the navi-computer. "All yours, kid.", he nods at Aristi as he leaves the chair to draw his flask and sit in the common room.
Aneira, wise enough even with scant exposure to Juviest's anecdotes, excuses herself to grab a drink once it's obvious he's starting on a story.
Shout when we get the 'we're about to leave hyperspace' warning, or any warning for that matter!
she retires to the shared lounge and plugs in to her console once more.