Spice Rush's page

Zev shuts down the engines and lets Spice Rush coast for a few seconds before using the repulsors to bring the transport to a full stop. The bridge audio kicks in again: Confirmed, Spice Rush. Scanning crew will dock with your vessel at the starboard engineering access port in . . . three minutes. Austerity, out.

Now looming large in the viewport, the cruiser decelerates as its tiny hangar doors disgorge a shuttle. The large vessel engages in a brief, but overt, series of active sensor scans that pinpoint the freighter and its systems. The shuttle approaches almost lazily -- a routine so mundane it cannot even be described as "casual".

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ThetaZero clanks his way forward and addresses Hayden from the promenade. Agitated Query: Master Hayden, you don't think my presence will cause any problem, do you? There are no concealed areas aboard -- your estranged superiors will likely learn you've been here soon after the scan results are logged . . . .

Chapter Two: The Spaces Between the Stars

Rhea spends several minutes touring Spice Rush more thoroughly, noting the general layout of the ship, and getting a rough idea of its inventory. Since her appetite is still well-sated from her complimentary meal back at the Red Comet Chaser, her absence in the galley is noticed, but no one seeks her out.

Rhea's disciplined approach to the reconnoiter (effectively a Take 20 Perception, "generalized") proves quite rewarding. Though untrained in the particulars of starship construction, she is able to discern that the retrofitted C-III hyperdrive is in the port engine compartment, and the backup is located starboard. In all six of the cargo bays (which can be accessed for loading/unloading via "batwing" hatches that run the full length of each bay on the outer edge of the hull), she finds an assortment of containers, all scattered about with no real order. Plastiform crates, plasteel cylinders, even a handful of repair kits, and a motley array of unidentified components are dispersed through the holds. In the starboard fore hold she finds one item of particular note: a mid-grade rollaway medstation -- a true boon for the crew, should ill befall anyone. The starboard beam hold is even more exciting -- apart from a scattering of the random containers, a four-seater airspeeder and a speeder bike rest in the bay! Though neither is new, nor in pristine condition, both seem completely serviceable. The port beam hold contains a workbench for mechanical work, but it doesn't appear to be powered up, and it looks as though it is designed to be installed somewhere, rather than resting free on the deck. The five regular dormitories along the ship's centerline are . . . minimalist in the comforts offered, but are clean, uniformly appointed, and ready to receive residents. Finally, she takes note of the location of specific access hatches and crawlspaces to the various onboard systems, just in case. While she wouldn't really know what to do in those spaces, she, at least, now knows where they are.

Need any more details, Rednal? Something in particular you're looking for?

Acid Interjection: Do keep such threats of commingled bodily fluids to yourself, Hayden. My circuitry disrupts just processing the suggestion! Theta-Zero lets the young man pass, and turns to follow him toward the galley. Candid Remark: It is well known that the proper mixing of vital lubricants is only achieved on the battlefield -- blood leaking from multiple blaster wounds into a collective pool.

As the droid strides down the corridor, his head pivots to call back to Rhea. Amused Retort: Insanity leading to developments?! Oh, how you organics romanticize your failings. If my conversational subroutines provided a means to chortle, I would.

Rhea's evaluation of the flight controls reassures her that Spice Rush is operating properly, at least in terms of flight and maneuver. Whatever has persuaded the droid of performance issues with the ship must be limited to the computer systems.

Back in the galley, Hayden finds Le busying himself in preparing an aromatic dish -- pungent spices, noodles, and protein. The Zabrak pauses in his efforts upon noticing the frank regard directed his way, but he makes no comment. Something about the way their de facto navigator moves niggles at Hayden's thoughts, but no flash of understanding comes to mind.

The starboard-side refresher door indicates the unit is engaged. The refresher to port is unoccupied. As the galley fills with the members of the slapdash crew, Zev eventually emerges and goes about heating another prepackaged meal. His demeanor is reserved, pensive.

Some Sense Motive checks might not go amiss here. Once we've had a little more interaction/conversation, I'll probably use Zev to push us a bit more toward clarifying our "party goals". There are a great many elements in play right now, so be assured that the galaxy and its members 'march on' during our little interlude . . . .

Smug Statement: As I am a -- ssskrrch -- security droid -- skik -- of unrivalled sophistication, I doubt that the hardware we have on hand could carry out those functions. Nevertheless, we may be able to integrate some basic algorithmic improvements.

Theta-Zero ponders Rhea's inquiry briefly. Clarification: While I am certain a myriad of parts would be of use -- twin turbolasers, baradium minelayers, and other such --, I was referring specifically to the computer systems. Derisive Observation: Considering the rudimentary nature of some of the "upgrades" on the vessel, I would surmise that the computers have not had a full diagnostic . . . since the Jedi Civil War.

The clank of plated feet announces the return of Theta-Zero along the promenade. His predatory frame fills the bridge doorway, and his vocabulator stirs to life. Condescending Suggestion: If we are to increase our chances of survival, I recommend planning an intensive maintenance regimen -- perhaps while you meatbags recharge over "dinner". This vessel is in need of . . . forcible adjustment.

The fighters of Rancor Flight loop greater arcs around the fuel freighter, losing their excellent angles of attack for just a few seconds. There is still a chance to bring the escaping vessel to a halt, though, and they reacquire their target.

Zev, you might get out of this now, but you and that Devaronian are going to be a hot commodity on the bounty-hunting market in short order. Caandra's probably already got -- The comm transmission is cut off as Rancor Leader's signal gets jammed by Wasted Spacer. Yandis' seething voice fills the bridge air. Zargro. Took me a minute to figure out who you were. Your pilot's got carbonite in his blood. But if you ever put me and my crew at risk like that again, I will burn you off every world spinning, do you hear? Best you stay outta my path from now on, youngster. Out.

A single, weak concussion bobbles Spice Rush on her course, but both shots are wide or behind the ship.

Hayden, though, finally has two targets on his display, but they are just out of range. Within the next two seconds, though, he will be able to . . . "dissuade" them.

The comm hisses and pops, and a new voice intrudes the tension on the bridge. Spice Rush, Spice Rush, this is Yandis Barzau of Wasted Spacer. We have you on a collision course in about 10 seconds. Advise you adjust flight path immedia -- What in the Maw's black belly?!! They've got fighters on their tail!! Get those shields up!! NOW!! We won't be able to brake -- And the transmission is cut off with a snap.

Checking to see if I got the formatting more or less right . . . .