Blow that Theme Song on the Kloo Horn [Complete] (Crew and Invitees)

[Sen Oisel]

Blow that Theme Song on the Kloo Horn

"Nah! Get Away!"

Sen Oisel's rebutal was spat, but found itself flooded amidst the profusion and outcries of numerous other patrons. The young man sat in solitude near the corner of the cantina, his eyes intent on droid waiter.

Under the charm of his slick, but furry brows, long-lashed eyes, full lips, and nicely lined chin hair rested a hatred for droids. The mechanical projects were despisable figures of the galaxy, and even his involvement in mechanics did not rest the desire for their extinction.

The expected response was halted as a new customer entered the bustle of the cantina. Soon the vile droid evacuated, flinging back into the bunch of exotic beings that jumbled together to create an exceptional atmosphere unrivaled by any other place on Pols Anaxes. Outside the stylistic doors rested a world of perfect contrast and beauty. The graceful combo of grass and architectural savvy formed a prowess that even the forgotten Aldeeran could not contend with. Although Sen Oisel was not born to the unique world, he had learned to call it home.

Life before the righteous grounds wasn't divine. Instead, the young pilot's past was wrinkled with numerous creases caused by disasterous ventures. From his birthplace of Sluis Vas, he took the shipyards. Departing from the vigor of the robotic droid motions, he occupied the Outlaw Tech department with his older brother. There the two bolstered a fine economy before finally using it for a vision. Sen's brother was an enterpenuer, and his mind caste off to Coruscant.

There the two would form a grand company. Numerous ships would be made from the ground up, and wield the two siblings with enough expenses to stand beside even Palpatine amidst the towers of the galaxy. Time swallowed the idea whole, leaving the two at a fault. Finally Sen's older brother fell to the tide of war, and took up arms as an Imperial Army man. Stationed back in the Outer Rim during the attack on Tatooine, he was destroyed despite the guard of Boba Fett.

In his will, the youth found himself a chance for the future. Growing through the tutelage of schooling at the Anaxes Citadel, he happily graduated. However the collegian certificate was only the beginning.

"Where are they?" Sen took a gander across the crowd of species. Albeit the Empire's Navy had a grip across the Citadel, numerous sentient ventured to the beauty of Anaxes to live or visit. It was no Spira, but the allure could not be denied. Anx, Chiss, Caamas, Zeltron and other's scattered about the room in a cluster of discussion over drinks. Some could be heard from far, bolstering an organized chaos of voices. Languages clashed together in a clamor of coded conversations.

The recent years had led him many places, but comprehending many languages was not one of them. Despite his thirst for adventure, he had not indulged himself in the many words used across the galaxy he could soon venture. Yet, that did not trouble him. Instead, he dwelled on the bizzare crew he had managed to form. Only days before his graduation a flux of characters began treading the extravegent world, falling into his lap with sheer perfection.

As he sat in the silence at the table, deep in the corner of the cantina, his eyes went distant. A small furred figure ran across his imaginative plane, an Ewok. After a stowaway the little mechanic managed to find his way to the prestigous realm of the Core Worlds after the recent notoriety of his infamous race. Sprocket was his name, and he would definately be a perfect assemble for any captain's vessel.

However, the other two were different. They held other reasons for joining as crewmates. But every last one would definately shaped to be worthy acquaintances.

“Man, where are they?” Sen asked, giving one last glance around the cantina.

[Artisn]

Four keffi contested the weigh behind them. Their enormous hooves beat the city floor as the herd treaded amidst the anxious tourist and calm citizens.

Behind them hit a four armed man sat in the bliss of the sunshine. The shine of the amber kissed the world, providing a lush twinkle on the exquisite buildings that sprung from the greenery that patterned the world. A long his tattered face sat the features of the Besalisk traditional traits.

The prominence of the crest skull atop his hat could be noticed from afar, but the jug of weight mistaken for a chin dangled at lengths unimaginable. Occasionally under the sporadic nature of road bumps it could be noticeable banging against his chest as he awaited the arrival to the destination.

Under the weight of his brow rested scarred vision that stared off into the distance. The dire expression that pressed along his face molded a troubled man. Life had swept through his path before, leaving a phenomenal load on his shoulders. The pressure had left the ordinary bulk of a Besalisk stomach as an understatement. Flopping out of his finely pressed and sown garment, it bounced along with his wattle during quick motions.

All of the extra weight was truly a fortune. Demise from starvation would be far, and the demand for food would be sparse for the distressed Ojom native. Finally as the cattle were snapped to a stop, his face relieved the tension and his eyes brighten with the vision of the future. The keffi rider glanced back at his carriage, still slightly amazed at the sheer strength that the enormous Besalisk engrossed. Leaping from the height of the carriage he left a thud underneath his gigantic boots.

"You have a nice day Feruaj."

And then the keffismen was gone. Below the colossal arms which gripped at the nearby door, lay two twin appendages prepared for usage. Finally treading through the masses of the cantina, he found his target.

Sen Oisel, the man he would be hopefully calling friend and captain for months to come.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

Sprocket had just recently spoken with a young pilot, a Mr. Oisel, though it was more like Sprocket scrawling away at a note, and Mr. Oisel reading intently. A plethora of information was passed during that first meeting, and thus the second one was set. Sprocket, if all things went accordingly, would have a job and the tools and parts necessary to build a vocabulator mask for his translating purposes. And goodbye, long notes!!!!

Smiling, Sprocket made his way through the crowd with ease, looking around the bar amidst the tall people for Mr. Oisel.

[Litika Dor]

Litika liked this planet. She liked it a lot, actually: unparalleled natural beauty melded seamlessly into advanced technology and sophistication. The native populace were a beautiful, cultured race with fine tastes and an overall hospitable nature. And they were damn fine mechanics; Litika hated having unknown fingers pawing over her ship but these locals knew what they were doing, and, most courteously, knew the difference between tuning up a bum engine for a reasonable price, and scamming her into unnecessary expense or nosing about in parts of the ship that didn't concern them.

They also knew that they were only being paid for the former.

I'll have to remember this place, Litika thought to herself approvingly, glancing down again at the calling-card-sized slip of flimsy scratched with hastily-written directions. Left, up here at the next corner.

The good service she'd received at the spaceport--from a for-hire team of mechanics suggested to her by her new employer--also calmed her nerves about leaving her baby in the care of spaceport security while she helped crew another ship. Leaving the Riven Epsilon alone for any length of time, away from her own watchful eye, always made her nervous. No telling who might show up and start snooping...

But she was assured, several times, that her ship would be safe, here, that private vessels were considered sacrosanct by spaceport authorities.

She hoped that guy hadn't been blowing it out his ear.

He seemed nice. Young, enthusiastic to a fault, but nice. Of course, Litika had known her share of "nice" people who smiled cheerfully at their victims as they sliced them open with a vibroshiv. So, "nice" didn't really count for much.

Money did. And Sen Oisel's money had appeared good. Now it was up to the kid to convince Litika Dor it was worth it to leave her ship on an alien planet and put herself on an alien ship with alien crewmates for a mission whose parameters had, so far, been a bit hazy.

He had his work cut out for him.

And, as Litika found the bar--pretty classy establishment, all told, and crowded, which was a fair indicator that it was of good quality--and made her way casually through the shifting throng toward a back table where she spotted the young face she recognized from his message, she noticed that she wasn't the first of his prospects to arrive.

[Sen Oisel]

In the flock of voices an undertone of music mused over. A Jizz band pressed on a nearby stage performed with effortless precision. The group was a compound of locals and sector off-worlders. None were too foreign to the very unique culture that cultivated in the audience. Every motion and maneuver shifted numerous members of the assemble in their seats and stand. People clapped in response, while other's tapped their feet to the rhythmic explosions.

Sen loved music. The numerous instruments that came into play during Jizz performances, or other categories provided an essential nature to life. Unlike no other feeling, it attuned his senses into a pure emotion. However, the young captain's mind quickly shifted to the ceremony at hand. He had taken the lead, and an awkward band of beings were prepared to tote their own horns.

First came the Besalisk. The gaze of the youthful eyes merited a readiness for his pressing persona to enter his presence. Time had tested their relationship. Before during his endeavors as a student of the Citadel he had met Feruaj, and was left with a bad taste in his mouth. All that was known was his bounty hunter past, and troubled future. Of course, the youth welcomed him in when it seemed the man needed a chance off world, but he did not trust him.

However such bias views shifted a long with his bottom as he glanced over at the Ewok. Below the towering Anx and field of Sullustians, his furry frame stuck out like a torn. Few of his kind had even been rumored about, much less seen. Only the occasional ventures to the outpost on Endor for smugglers and spacers had left tales of their unique culture sprinkling about the galaxy. Even Sen's intuitive mind could not project an imaginative stereotype for the small lad. Hopefully, he would just be helpful as he seemed.

Likitia was a different story entirely. Instead of a direct encounter, he had heard about her through some faces amidst the Anaxes Citadel. Utilizing the little network he could muster, he put in a few comms and finalized his crew. Albeit all the faces were there, none of them seemed all that ready to come sit and talk. Sprocket the Ewok probably couldn't even see amongst the profusion of people.

"Over here," Sen finally called with a beckon.

[Artisn]

The cluster of folks flustered the Feruaj. Although the distress had been swept from his face, he still was instilled with an eternal frustration. People just were annoying. The bad breathe of the flocks and distorting faces at the music left grumbles and muses escaping the stubborn Besalisk.

Rummaging through the crowd, he fixed his eyes on Sen. It would be easy to miss the young fellow, despite his distinctive voice. The young pilot carried a slight rasp, foreign to the world. Accentuated wording came at time to time, and despite all the tutelage in the Imperial Basic and Trading Language couldn't disarray the strong accent.

Feruaj had managed to become familiar with his voice. It carried a nice, calm pitch, and even as he beckoned him over the Besalisk did not hurry. More and more bodies flung out the way as his vast frame pierced through the cluster of beings. Finally he reached his destination, providing an enormous hand for a shake.

"Aye! Whats this ol' meet'n bout?"

[Litika Dor]

Litika saw the darkly handsome young man turn and wave his guests over. She turned and threaded easily through the crowd, pressing around and through without disturbing, like water over stones. It was a learned skill, one she'd spent years honing, as she developed the ability to stand out as little as possible in a strange crowd.

Finally she picked her way to the table towards the back, walking casually, summing up both her prospective employer, and her fellow hopefuls. A somewhat rough-looking Besalisk (perhaps a bit too unkind, since most of his race tended toward intimidating in appearance) and...an Ewok? An Ewok mechanic? This she had to see.

The Besalisk's booming voice caught her a little off-guard; he acted like he knew Oisel already. Perhaps they had a history. Litika hung back just slightly, waiting for her cue.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

The Besalisk, not even noticing the Ewok, stepped right over him, not even breaking his gait to continue along. Sprocket didn't even have to move, because he had plenty of clearance. Shaking his head, he cursed his small stature. But smaller stature was better than being an oaf..... Smiling from underneath his cloak, Sprocket adjusted his bandoleer of tools before continuing his gait towards the group.

Coming to a seat next to Mr. Oisel, Sprocket began his climb up the chair. It took him no time at all; it wasn't uncommon for Sprocket to have to climb to get somewhere. Even on his home-no-longer of Endor he had to climb to get somewhere. The bane of a small stature. But on the other hand, it did have other advantages. Such as being harder to catch, harder to eat, and being able to hide easily worked great for Sprocket. He sat down, and pulled a datapad that he had swiped and reprogrammed, and began jotting away at it. When finished, he showed it to Mr. Oisel.

The screen read: "Hello, Mr. Oisel."

[Sen Oisel]

Before the Besalisk question could be answered Sen was pressed against his seat once more. The round up of the crew had finalized. Even as the small figure of a Ewok sprouted out from the side, Sen could not withdraw a fine smirk on his face. He was proud. An uncertain set of adventures was before him, and it was far too hard for his face to be composed. All of the meetings, talks and studying had accumulated to this. A conclusion was in need. Departure from the old life, and step into the anew.

Sen's eyes studied the table-mates, glancing leisurely at the datapad sled over by Sprocket. Only a nod adjusted his still body. The young captain had achieved much in little time, but nothing had began. In that thought, he regarded all of the newly formed group. They would be adequate elements to a prized feature toe the galaxy.

"Were here for a mission," He finally began. The clear, silken, suave voice was pushed out after an abrupt gulp. Written in the undertones of his statement was an effortless confidence and certainty. Before an interjection could be made, his hand pushed into his pocket.

Pulling a small device out, he laid it in the middle of the table. In the lull of the gang shot an ultramarine figure. The excellence of holo-technology displayed itself in all it's azure hue. Coated in the blueness, designs of nicely fitting clothing draped over a Nym of green skin. The man was tall in stature, but minimized by the holopad's device. He was a calm being, ready to divulge info.

"Hello there Mr. Oisel," he began. "The mission for the J.I.N.R Organization is quite simple. All the details will be directly relayed to your ship, but it should be known before hand that you will venture from The Work's on Coruscant and transport it to Kashyykk.

It should be a hardy order, but the fee at the end is hefty. So, don't screw it up."

And the man was gone with a flash of bolts. And so the story began...





OOC: Going to go into first person from this point on.

[Artisn]

He watched. He always did. The situation seem straight-forward, but an intense itch in the back urged him to touch. An inflame of irritation rampaged over his back as he awaited a moment's time to react. The Nym's continuous talking edged on forever. Peppered with the unique, bold voice of a typical Nym, it brought proud memories back to the life of the Besalisk.

Feruaj quickly interrupted the nostalgia with a screeching scratch. Digging his nails along the nape of his neck, he scanned the room about him. Still the itch continued to annoy him even as the Nym's voice and image came to an end.

It was a little too much.

"So whens we gunna hit da space line?" Feruaj asked, trying desperately to put his mind on another subject.

[Litika Dor]

Litika watched the proceedings, chewing on her lip, then slid into a seat near Sprocket.

The pay is hefty...

"Okay, Mr. Oisel," she said, flipping a piece of dark hair out of her face with a toss of her head. "You've got me. What do I do, how dangerous is it, and when do we leave?"

[Sen Oisel]

Much of the mission was disguised by fancy words, but the price wasn't. All of it seemed nice from afar, but with some inspection since the request I had managed to decipher the odds. Nothing seemed quite safe about it, but all of it was herald in secrecy after a bit of calling, hacking and slicing.

Besides the drop-points, there was not much to talk about. Everything about it was dangerous, hidden amidst some blackened guise. It was sort've annoying.

But this gal wasn't. As she finally sled into her seat, eyes fixed, and ready to talk I could nothing but stare back. She definately was going to be a prize amidst all the weirdness of the crew. Besalisk and an Ewok named Sprocket were not exactly the best for my eyes sake.

"You help with piloting, and we leave today. But the danger part..." I paused to think. There was much to say, but it was imperative I kept it at bay. Any slight nudge to the cliff of info might unload the hold. "...isn't horrendous."

"So you guys wanna get a drink befo' we splash over the stars?"

[Litika Dor]

"Only if you're buying," Litika replied smoothly, smiling beatifically.

Not horrendous, huh? Not a very good liar, are you, Mr. Oisel? Litika only wondered just how bad it really would be.

But...she'd always been too adventurous for her own good. And...she really did need the money.

[Sen Oisel]

"Then no drink."

A smile perched on my lip as the words sled like a slug from my mouth. In retrospect I should have said it a lot slower, but those many bump-in with authority on Sluis Van had ran my tongue on a motor. There was always trouble amidst the life of an Outlaw Tech, but at least I was in the Outer Rim. Anywhere closer to the Core and I would have been toasted more times than once.

Now I had to do shipment jobs. Times had changed, but at least my tongue hadn't. Hopefully Likitia did not have a dry throat, because she would have to wait until Coruscant to get a decent beverage. The Midget Brow did not accommodate much.

"Now, any of you fine gentlemen wanna offer this gal some credits for her drink?

Because I aint."

[Artisn]

Feruaj kept his mouth shut. He carefully watched as the two talk, his eyes darting off to the bartender. All he had in his pocket was enough for his own belly. Albeit he did not require much to re-surge his already full belly, his metabolism requested for something to chomp on.

Hopefully the two could yap on longer for him to slide a credit the bartender's way for a drink without either of them catching it. Being a gentlemen wasn't on the Besalisk list of priorities, but it was bad to have a distasteful first impression on a fellow crew-mate. But not bad enough to resent his own thirst.

Credits were hard to come by, which was one of the many reasons he joined up with the young pilot. He would need them in the future if he wanted to get out the hell-hole he dug himself.

[Litika Dor]

Litika did not allow her displeasure to show save for an upward tic of her eyebrow.

"I do hope, Mr. Oisel, that you will not be as tight-fisted with our equal shares of the take?"

[Sen Oisel]

A chuckle forced itself out of my throat. More or less, it sounded like like an act, but it was to be expected. Glancing carefully around the table, I let a hand raise to my mouth for a slight cough. Another forced act amidst the many. But I'm no actor, and lying was harder to do with any experience in the play industry. So, I put the displays aside and put the truth back on.

"Of course you'll get your equal shares. I just gave you an equal share."

Then a smirk wiggled my lips in a flash.

"Zero credits."

Despite the smirk, I hated being broke. It was shameful.

[Artisn]

A laugh shook the Besalisk body. Underneath the facade of his laughter flung an extra hand to a nearby waiter. The droid opened it's cold, durasteel palm and took the few credit coins. Zipping off it would be back soon with the requested beverage that he coughed out with his laughter.

Droids were mechanical things. Feruaj always knew how to work with them. Even the slightest voicing of words they could catch. Their sensors were made for all sorts of voices.

With one last gulp after his chuckle, he refreshed his throat with his own horrendous liquids before the drink came. That would be certainly an upgrade.

[Litika Dor]

Litika smiled frostily at Oisel, noticing his stalling maneuvers and his refusal to meet her eyes steadily. He may have been a smooth talker, but he was going to be no easy customer.

This was going to be a long trip.

Litika raised two fingers to alert the nearest waiter droid. It hovered over to the table and asked her cheerily what she wanted to drink.

"Mm, Corellian Twister, please," she said sweetly, her smile widening. She bit her tongue to keep from cringeing; with the latest shipping tariffs coming down the pipe landing hardest on luxury items like exotic sweets and liquors, Corellian sweetrum had become exponentially more expensive than it had been a year ago. In fact, a Twister was one of the most expensive cocktails still served in most bars. Litika knew she didn't have the money to waste like that...but she needed respect from these dregs, and needed Oisel to think she wasn't as desperate for her next paycheck as she really was.

So she only grinned at the droid as it whirred away, and hoped the rum would make her forget what a dumb move she'd made in ordering it.

[Sen Oisel]

"And you were asking me to buy?"

Beside my thoughts, I felt an artful grin run across my lips. Letting my eyes drift, I captured the sounds about me. All the restlessness left me at a fidget in my seat, but it was common place. Rarely did I visit cantina, despite my involvement with so many patrons. Such places gave me the creeps, and without a good aim with a blaster it just wasn't safe. Even on Anaxes.

Soon my vision return to focus, and stared off at Sprocket. During the conversation he had kept quiet. It was to be expected. The Ewok did not speak Basic, at least to my knowledge, and all he had to communicate was a datapad.

Hopefully he would be happy with the translator droid I had bought with the last extra money back on the Midget Brow. The trader said it could translate Ewok language. It had been used on scout missions for the Empire in the past, and would provide all the necessary elements to be tweaked by the prodigy mechanic if otherwise.

A wryly smile returned to my face.

"I got some fizzy-bip for us back on the ship. At least that's free..."

[Artisn]

After a stifled scamper, the droid was over with the requested drink. The distilled Jawa Juice was a renown export from Tatooine, despite the rather discrete origins. Few knew exactly how the Jawa made such a tasteful drink, especially with their peculiar persona. Very few engaged in worthwhile conversations with the haggling race, Feruaj included.

The few times he had found himself on Tatooine, he only spoke to Jawas about scraps and salvaged parts. Nothing besides the involvement with merchandise was irrelevant to the blackened figures. Their bodies were heavily coated in cloaks, but it was not the cloak they wore. They were a mysterious guys.

Before he could fluster over the infamy of the drink, he drowned it. Gulping it down, he felt as the quenched refreshment resonated throughout his body. He felt anew...good...better than before.

Finally slamming the empty cup on the table, he awaited the end to it all. Hopefully they would leave soon. Feruaj grew tire of the cantina scene on Anaxes. It wasn't dangerous enough.

[Litika Dor]

Litika only winked at Oisel as he jibed her, and waited for the waiter droid to return, trying to ignore the noisy chugging of the Besalisk across the table from her.

When her drink arrived, she sipped at it mildly for a second, then set it down as if finished.

"Well, if there is no further business here, then I say we waste no more time. I need to get back to my ship to lock it up and inform the port supervisor, besides collect a few things for the job. Any special tools I'll be needing, that you know of, Mr. Oisel?"

[Sen Oisel]

"A fine smile."

Something about the statement made me laugh. But I knew better to do it outright. It was disrespectful, so I let out only a polite chuckle before proceeding. Clearing my voice, I leaned back in my chair with a fist near my mouth.

"Just some tools, really. Besides that, meet me at Dock 116-A at the port."

Jumping up, I pocketed my hands and headed smoothly out the room. After a moments time I heard the murmur of the two other's that would follow. They certainly were in a haste. Neither seemed very curious about anything other than heading off the planet. Anaxes was an interesting place, but after a few steps around the city it was not too amazing for me. That was just me though.

Some other's compared Anaxes to Spira. I had never been to the vacation planet, but the descriptions wasn't exactly alike. Hopefully the crew and I could check the place out. Lumruns weren't going to be the only thing I did with my ol' ship, thats for sure.

[Artisn]

The Besalisk leaped from his seat with a quickness. Weight of his body shifted with the same speed, his fluffy stomach bouncing with the jug at his chin. Turning about with the exact precision of a Imperial officer, he followed suite behind the man he could be calling captain for the next months. Life certainly had changed.

Before he had no one to turn to. All he had was himself. The perfect example of a loner, a ranger amidst the space, hunting down villains and heroes of every kind. Those times were different, sort of simple.

Feruaj loved those days, but he couldn't turn about. There was only room for him to follow this young adventurer. Weird how options could be cut down by time.

"So, flyboy! Whatz wit da Midget Brow name, bud?"

[Sen Oisel]

Midget Brow? The words echoed through my mind. It was hard to recall. When I had come up with the handle was during a meal. Most people that knew me well felt I was quite a random guy. Even the slightest inklings or linked subjects provided enough for my mind to go into a whirlwind.

However the Midget Brow name was a bit different. Much of it was based on a joke. It was a peculiar name, and provided me a slight chuckle even on the worst days.

"Riding the Midget Brow just is funny," I finally said, without gandering over at the following Besalisk. For some reason, I still didn't trust him.

Taking a quick glance at the Ewok beside him, I smirked. He certainly fit the crew on the base of the name. Ewoks were short furballs, and blending in was hard, but being misplaced was very easy. It was hard earlier to even find him amongst the tall Anx that paraded throughout the cantina. Good thing we had finally exited. All the streets contained were a few keffi riders and humans. Nothing too big to intimidate the little fella.

Finally calling for a keffi, we were off. Soon we would reach the ports and be off when Likitia returned.

[Litika Dor]

Litika gave the captain and the Besalisk who quickly followed him a few moments' head start while she sucked a few more drinks of her Twister and eyed the furry little Ewok who was gathering up his datapad and slipping akwardly off the bench.

After another moment Litika stood up and strode out of the bar, heading in the direction of the spaceport. She did not see Oisel or Ter along the way.

[Artisn]

Grabbing at the short Ewok, Feruaj lifted him to his shoulder for a boost. Dropping him in the back of the band-wagon, he followed up the steps. The weight of his heavy body lunched the keffi into a struggle as he stamped off toward the port.

"Frag," he mused. Sometimes his weight was a source of insecurity, but it was to be expected. Besalisk were just fat creatures.

[Sen Oisel]

All the noteworthy landmarks passed them by as the keffi scrapped at the road toward the spaceport. Seemed like any transport with Feruaj apart of it would need far more than one keffi to move at a steady pace. A smirk crossed my lips at the very thought. Maybe a rancor could sustain the heavy load withoua strain. Maybe...

Before another thought could trickle over into an idea, my mind took to an ease. Weeks had led up to this day, and left me without very little sleep. Without Sprocket or a talented astromech droid I had to do all the fix-ups for myself for the flight. The ship was not in prime condition, and most of the will's credits went to working it back to decent flight status.

Leaning back, my eyelids latched onto my bottom lashes. The world around my faded, and all there was left was a dream to enjoy.

"Litika..." I heard myself muse before my mind was taken far from reality.

[Artisn]

Sprocket kept silent throughout the ride. There was not much he could say that Feruaj understood. Endor was a planet beyond the grasp of any hunt. Much of the ride was indecisive. So, he pressed his load against the back of the carriage and watched with eased mind.

It was best at these times to simply take the pleasure of the ride. There was not a thing he had to do, and that was rare. So evaded boredom with a positive view. The toothy smile he commonly kept secret pasted itself a long his whiskey covered face. Charred brown lips parted to show his large fangs. Before him came a grumble from the rider after taking a gander back. Besalisk weren't the most appealing sights for humans, especially when they showed their devious grin.

Feruaj could care less. He was a mercenary. No one had to like him.

[Litika Dor]

The object of Oisel's fantasy was, at that moment, knocking around inside the Riven Epsilon, stuffing clothes and personal effects into a weatherbeaten satchel. The taxi ride over here had been short and without incident, and now all that remained was to ready the Epsilon for extended hibernation.

A brief series of subsystem powerdowns and lockups later (not to mention a quick job of hiding or disguising the ship's more illicit equipment in case of unauthorized snooping), Litika was standing in the hatchway, casting a last anxious look back into her ship. Boy, did she ever have a bad feeling about leaving it alone for so long...

She shook it off, stepped down the gangplank, and sealed the Epsilon, tapping in the new locking code she'd just programmed. Adjusting the strap of her satchel on her shoulder, she made her way to the super's office to leave notice and instructions regarding the ship. They already had her account number, for docking fees.

Then she made her way down the port to the berth Oisel had indicated.

[Sen Oisel]

Time always went too fast for me to catch it. Everything from slumber to keffi motion seemed to go like a pod race. Even in my fast lane it was hard for me to maintain with the rest of the traffic of my life. Adjusting to the newfound lifestyle of a spacer was going to be a definite change. The rest of the crew had been ambushed by an array of different situations. Experiences that I would eventually learn and grow.

After a slight nudge, I rubbed my eyes. Brush of the lids and a few blinks, I prepared myself for the oncoming dash. Instincts set itself into my feet as I grabbed at the Ewok. If the furball was not carried he would only slow us down. There wasn't credits to my pocket, and though the keffi carriage rider seemed surprise he was also enraged.

All those outbreaks when I was a Outlaw Tech in a past life provided the necessary adrenaline and focus for me to evade a few exiting tourist and citizens. Dexterity, agility and hand skills provided me all the required maneuverability to hold the Ewok and speed through the traffic of the port. Thuds of footsteps barraged my ear from behind. Seemed like a gundark was in the chase, but it was probably Feruaj. I didn't know for sure, because I definately would not be taking a look. Either way it was only smart to speed up.

Fields of faces became a blur as I carried the Ewok toward the Dock A area. Screams, yelps and calls reigned through the swivels of my ear. Someone wanted my attention, but I would not give it. One stammer in my feet, then Sprocket and I could hit the a pitfall without a return.

[Artisn]

Initially Feruaj was as puzzled as the rider. Although he noticed when Sen spoke about his zero credits, he only allowed haphazard attention to catch it. Yet now, his mind scratched and pried at the images that he could remember. Shock overwhelmed his composure, finding itself flushing his face. The contorted Besalisk typical features formated to the embarrassment and surprise suddenly found in his aura.

A swallow returned his face back to a norm. After an abrupt leap, he slammed to the ground. The load of his body left the carriage and tipped it to the regular form. Already the driver had taken off in haste to chase down Sen, but soon found himself at a halt. Pulse of anguish flooded through the Anaxi driver's face as his neck turned into a twig from the iron vice grip of the Besalisk.

All the pain soon faded as the driver trickled in agony to the floor. Pressing against the wall in sheer terror, he parted ways for the running Besalisk to follow his captain. That was one more that Mr. Oisel owed him.

[Litika Dor]

Litika heard them before she saw them. Besalisks were not stealthy creatures, really. Wookiees were sneakier. And not nearly so noisy when they ran.

Wait...why were they running?

Litika watched, stupefied, as her employer, with an armful of Ewok and followed closely by a very fast-moving, tank-sized Besalisk, whizzed by her at a flat-out sprint. One glance at the several irate-looking men giving chase, and the situation became clearer.

Litika sighed as she started rummaging through her pack. She had no idea what the young captain could've done in so short a time to get into trouble, but she felt certain that this would not be the last time she bailed him out.

Oh, yes. This was going to be such a long trip.

With a flick of her wrist, Litika let fly the tiny canister, already spewing smoke, and dashed after her employer. That ought to keep the men choking for a few more moments, during which time she could get her new captain's ship off the ground.

She hoped.

[Stormtrooper]

The Empire had done well. Stormtroopers were in every facet and crevice of the universe under the guide of the New Order's control. Anaxes was a planet no different than any other. Despite the many Navy men that graduated from the Anaxes Citadel, the planet also needed the defense of ground troops. No one ever knew where the Rebel might fester.

Rebels also birthed themselves in daily situations. Thief, murderers and smugglers grew like fungus throughout the galaxy. Anyone who denied the Empire's laws was nothing more than a soon-to-be victim.

The plastoid shimmer of the traditional Stormtrooper outfit shined as sunlight splashed over the landing bay. As the screen deactivated for Sen and his band of unlawful characters they faced the armored critters of the Empire. There was three of them, and that was all that was necessary for such a rag-tag gang as this. Only moments before they had been called in by the starport security. Reinforcement were mandatory for the trouble they had brew.

[Sen Oisel]

Despite my roots in the Sluis Van shipyard as an Outlaw Tech I was not up to fending off Stormtroopers. My brother had taken apart in the Empire. Not with a conscious mind could I hate the Emperor or his tools. But, did not mean I had to take their crap.

"Frell," I spat, grabbing at the old pistol at my waist. The blaster had been passed down through my brother. It was the first blaster he used during his training, and he felt was required for me to use in all the terrors of the galaxy. Funny how he felt a Rebel might put me in such a situation.

How ironic life is.

Before I let out a fire, my eye winced in focus. The pressure of my impulse left only one eye open as I let out a blast. With a hand full of fur, and the other unloading a blaster bolt it hard to stay an ace. Not that I was much of one.

[Litika Dor]

Oh. Wonderful. Stormtroopers. Just what they needed.

Litika was beginning to wonder if her new captain was even worth this.

While still shrouded in her own smoke cloud, Litika pulled her neckscarves up around her face and head. She was not going to be identified by these Imperial scum.

Quickly she argued to herself whether to try her blaster or just go straight for her lightsaber, but she knew she had better not tip her hand quite so quickly. She drew her blaster and squeezed off a shot at the nearest trooper's leg. No need to kill them unless necessary, no matter how bad she hated them.

[Artisn]

Fist went flying. Stormtrooper's were not exactly the smartest bunch and the landing pad was not wide. They stood too close, and Besalisk were renown for their strength. Before time could give the trooper's a chance to grab their blasters they were on the ground with a bruises from the hard knuckles.

It was a perfect display. As he motioned for a punch, the burn of a blaster bolt stung his left buttcheek. Flailing to the floor in agony he wiggled his way toward the extended gangplank. Hopefully he could evade the embarrassment with a burst up the plank into the ship.

[Sen Oisel]

Laughter consumed me in moments time. It was true that my shots weren't very precise, but a burning booty was not exactly close to my expectations.

"Ladies..."

Hahaha

"First..."

Hahaha

The hilarity was hard to restrain.

[Litika Dor]

Litika could find it funny later. Her lip curled as she watched the Besalisk crumple. She knew it wasn't a killing shot--unless Besalisks carried their hearts in their rear ends--but it would certainly sting later, and it now looked as if Ter would no longer be helping them. A blaster bolt sizzled past her head as she ducked into the open hatchway, half-dodging, half-leaping over the staggering Besalisk.

"Nice shot!" she yelled nastily back at Oisel as she flew down the corridor toward the cockpit. Time to get airborne.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

OOC: Sorry, power was out last night, and before that, I've been busy with RL.

IC:

After hearing much of the business, Sprocket kept quiet, not scribbling at all on the datapad. No reason to speak or communicate in any way. When the Besalisk picked him up for the ride, Sprocket smiled, letting him carry him. It made things easier. When the ride was over, and they left, Sprocket blanched, though it would be hard to see due to the fur. He knew of the world. If you rode in a cab, you paid. And they didn't have money. Sprocket had some credits that he had purloined on accident, but before he got the opportunity, he was scooped up and ran. Next thing you know, there was firing. And Sprocket just ducked, scribbling on the datapad.

"I probably should have paid. I had the credits. But there wasn't enough time for me to pay it."

[Sen Oisel]

Everything went from hilarious to hectic in sudden twist of fates. Although it was quite funny that the Feruaj had caught a good one to the rear, it was not enough to keep me off focus. Their was still trouble amidst and I needed to follow suite.

Dropping in the trail set by Litika, I dashed past Feruaj. After a quick lift, Sprocket and I carried him up the gangplank. For the most part he was half-way there, but a helping hand after a blaster bolt to the poo-shooter was only right.

Setting him down, I fleed from the Basilisk's disgust and headed to the cockpit. Hopefully there I could stir up the engines and blast off. The trot and thud of oncoming troops gave me a sickness to my stomach that not even a rancor could easily swallow. For some reason I was allergic to fear.

[Artisn]

Pressed against the leathery hide of a seat in the ship's living quarters there was not much Feruaj could complain about beside the anguish that tortured him. Despite the evident comfort of the furniture, his bum still yelped in agony. An unignorable sting resonated through his bottom as he tried to no avail to lean the leverage to his thighs.

Grabbing onto a nearby rail, he spun himself lightly over with the help of the Ewok. He was happy to gain some assistance.

"So, what was da--," the Besalisk began, his voice drowned out by the shriek of the lifting gangplank and grunt which overcame him as the pinch paraded his buttcheek.

"...Name again?

[Stormtrooper]

The landing pad soon found new weight. After the decisive perusal to the ship, a signal siren over security. Although the first campaign of troopers had been resisted, another was certainly in need to restrain the fleeing criminals. And so in record time, they came trotting down the pathway to the pad.

A small squad of plastoid fitted Stormtroopers stared from the activated shields. Soon the energy field would be deactivated, and they would unload a hurting. Blaster bolts energized, the troopers stared menacingly and amused at the motionless hull of the freight ship.

Many times before had the stormtrooper's faced freight shuttling off into space. A few organized barrage of blaster shots could sizzle the engines with a precise quickness. Swift motion was in need from the shield generator control panel. Without the deactivation they were just sitting peko awaiting the chance to swoop up their kill.

Or arrest, however one wanted to see it.

[Sen Oisel]

YT-2000 were not exactly the newest models, but the fine paint job I had laced the Midget Brow with refined the status. Tattered designs patterned across the hull, providing a decent blend of gray, green and red. Very awkward usage of coloration, but it was certainly original.

From the designs and blueprint of the YT-2000 light freight, it seemed perfect for decent shipment. The central cockpit was necessary commodity for a medium size crew. Everyone could reach the pit from any point on the ship. Also it gave me central power. As the head of the ship, I was at the helm, while the co-pilot sat behind.

Litika would certainly feel like a precursor. The thought made me smile as I sat with certain haste in the comfortable seat. Much like the other furniture that had been replaced, it was of certain comfort. The massage that trickled through the seating gave me an ease to my tense muscles as I began pushing them through the motion for lift-off.

"Turn on the shields and activate the laser cannon on auto." I requested with sudden smoothness. The suave of my tone in the dire situation even surprised me.

[Litika Dor]

Litika had long since gotten the engines warmed up and ticked down the pre-flight check. All systems were, currently, green, though they weren't likely to stay that way for long. The stormtroopers were beginning to swarm...

"Aye," she responded automatically, complying before the words were fully out of the captain's mouth. Shields were already up--Litika was not a gambling woman, and stormtroopers had occasionally been known to actually hit their targets--and she heard a throaty hum from the cannon as she activated it.

"Alright, Mr. Oisel. Let's see what your girl can do."

[Sen Oisel]

The cannons weren't for much on auto. Despite the occasional hit, their purpose was just to scare the fleet of plastoid dummies into submission. With even an off-target shot, they were certain to grasp the extremes. Although I did not aim to kill, if it happened it would be a good cause. Credits were hard to come by, and the law ought to understand it. If turmoil was the only thing that could foil their eyes to the dire situation about, maybe they could comprehend.

At least that was how I worked it out in my head. Priority one was always to make thing's sound nice. Even if I was not on a holy crusade, and I'm not, it certainly was a purposeful alibi.

In a blaze of glory the ship shivered with excitement. Light permeated from the rear in a buzz. Murmur of the engines had already been drawn into the background amidst all the litter of bangs and hoots. My baby was ready to go, and the care of my parenting was prepared to let up. In an outlet of energy, the ship took off the ground steadily.

"Yeaaaaaaah!"

Then, in a burst of sheer excellence, my practiced engineer showcased itself. Blaster bolts echoed trailed only to be dismissed by the modified shield.

Soon the ship had passed the metropolis and pierced through the sky onto the atmosphere line. We had made it past the first hurdle, and many more were on are path.

"Finally..." I mused. "We made it."

[Litika Dor]

"Now, if you would be so kind...what the frell happened back there? I just know there's a good reason the entire Imperial presence on Pols Anaxes was breathing down our necks. Please, tell me there's a good reason. I want life-threatening hemmorhages or death. And you know they probably IDed me. And are even now descending upon my poor ship to shred her apart. And that, if they are, then you will owe me a new ship."

Litika did not even glance at Oisel as she said all of this, only deactivated the plasma cannon and began prepping the ship for a hyperspace jump.

[Sen Oisel]

Anger, it was funny. Empathy flew out the windows every time I saw infuriated faces, or heard frustration. Despite the many wrestles and fits I threw at my brother, I could not help but laugh at the numerous times he did the same. All of the showcase of broken self-discipline was for some reason funny to me.

However, I knew it would only rile the gal up. So with some good sense to boot, I held my giggles at bay. Pressed against the seat, I ensured my eyes would not switch over. Locking eyes with her would only make the withdraw of laughter harder to maintain.

"I dunno," I shrugged.

"But what did ya get?" Finally turning around, I let the query fly. When she entered into the swing of running I managed to catch the smoke spray from some weird object. She certainly was resourceful. Besides her looks, she would definately provide some required skills to keep the crew above water.

"Anythin' worth while in switchin' the subject about?" I asked with a smile, hoping to pry deeper into the satchel.

[Litika Dor]

Litika looked up at him, blinking innocently. She followed his gaze to her bag--tossed carelessly to the side of the cockpit as she had flung herself into the copilot's chair--and then looked back at his face.

"I dunno," she replied, shrugging, before scooting the satchel out of sight with her boot and returning her eyes to her control panel.

[Sen Oisel]

I dunno? I mused. Tangled over the choice of words, it was seemed sarcastic and ironic. Under her guide there was going to be more spunk than one man could carry. Hopefully the rest of the crew mates could clock in for her verbal beatings.

However, I seemed ready for more. She certainly would not be opening up anytime soon, but prying a bit more could not work.

"So, you wanna know what happened?" I asked, my eyes peering at her feet still. My thoughts still jumbled with a few words.

"Well, I'll tell ya if you tell me something about you."

[Litika Dor]

Litika looked up at him. She had wanted to know, though she supposed it really didn't matter, but was not so curious that she was willing to divulge much personal information to find out.

Luckily, his request for "something" was suitably vague, and practically invited a punishing response.

"Something about me, huh?" she replied sweetly, pretending to ponder. "Okay. When I was eleven, I once drank so many glasses of fermented orange juice that I got drunk and passed out." She smiled prettily. "Now, mind telling me what the stormtroopers were about?"

[Sen Oisel]

Rolled eyes and a lenient smile was all I could provide. However, a promise was a promise and I had to say something. After a quick lick of my lips, I divulged all I could. Most of it was vague from my memory.

Despite the fact that I ran off, the Stormtroopers were a problematic surprise. Pol Anaxes security was sensitive, but I did not think that much. There was something else up.

Before I could speak I nudged the idea from my head and proceeded.

"Did not have credits, so I went narglatch and got out of the fair. Seemed the troopers did not take so kindly to my bantha bons showcase and came in to burn the skin off my choobies."

After a moment, I realized what I said. With a chuckle and shaken head, I shook it off. "I mean, I bounced on a fair for the ride and nearly got caught."

[Litika Dor]

Litika had only understood about a third of his first explanation, but found the second more useful.

"Astrel, they came down on you like that for skipping out on a taxi fare? Sheesh..." Then she thought about it, and frowned. "Well, why they hell'd you skip out on it? That was really...ill-advised." Stupid, actually, but since he's the captain I might as well pretend to be polite.

[Sen Oisel]

Explaining myself was hard, especially when much of the purpose was foolish. There was certainly no reason to skip on the fare, but without a credit I was not trying to discuss with a incoherent retired jockey. Already the rider had been reduced to bantha poo as a keffi rider, and now he had to lean for some spacer. Unlikely happenings, but much of that didn't come to mind when I leaped.

It was not uncommon for me to skip on fares. Despite the port evacuation, I had always evaded policemen before. How was I suppose to know that spaceport security would turn Imps on me. Just was not normal.

"No credits, and no change for my brain to cash in. Wasn't thinkin' straight." I shrugged. Hopefully she would understand. Her expression would key me in...I mean, if she was not some big, famous actor in disguise or something.

[Litika Dor]

Litika shrugged. "Well, next time, come better prepared, or don't come at all. I don't like running from Imperials when I can sneak past them, instead." Her tone turned businesslike. "Now, do we have a hyperspace heading, or are we just gonna sit here in upper atmosphere all day waiting for them to send someone up to fetch us?"

[Sen Oisel]

"The last one seems right," I said with a keen smile.

Turning about, I returned to business. My neck sort of hurt from the twisting and turning. It was the first time I had taken to piloting the thing with another inside the cockpit, and it was too much to endure for my body to conversed at the same time. At the next stop I had to remember to change up the chairs to twist around or at least modify the cockpit. The place wasn't very spacious.

Soon my hands were preoccupied. Running across the control panel, I began activating all the modules as I lifted cautiously out of the atmosphere, through orbit and toward the closest point for a hyperspace channel.

My mind returned to the studies back at the Citadel. The meticulous scrutiny of my fellow classmates and teacher had provided me with the carefulness necessary to pilot any ship I had ever seen. The YT-2000 was no different. Before reality could zoom back into place, the heavily modified hyperspace engine was ignited and we were off into a line of stars toward Coruscant. The Imperial Center was going to be a deserving change to the flourish of trees back on Anaxes.

[Artisn]

Helplessness wasn't big in any culture. Humans did not like it, and Besalisk despised it. The agony of the sting was minuscule in compassion to the distress that pressed his face into a saddened frown. The rail was all that he could do from restraining his body from another pitfall on the couch. Even the slightest touch could send a shockwave of sting through his large frame.

So, he carefully watched as the Ewok scribed in his datapad. Hopefully the furball had something worthwhile to say, or offer. Anything beyond the response to Feruaj's question would be certainly worth his time. Maybe even a jump for assistance.

In return, he might teach the little thing a thing or two about Basic so there would not be dead silence during the conversation.

[Araib Musbunig]

"Hello there, Captain Oisel."

The holopad emitter abruptly surged on. A single man sat there, the traditional lekku dangling down his backside sending of the clear message of his Twi'lek heritage. Blue coated his frame a top the holopad in his minimized frame. Araib was his name, but few knew it beyond his small circle of business contacts.

Sen Oisel wasn't one of his contacts.

"Messages have been recently sent out during your faithful departure of Anaxes. Suddenly you are renown amidst the sector.

You and Feruaj Ter have been accounted for a Sector bounty. As a corespondent to your recent mission's contact I am here only to forward this toward you.

Throughout the remainder of your tour, hold a low profile. We don't want any attention."

And before a question could be asked, the man's figure was gone. Drained back into the emitter, his image returned to the mysterious location he sent the cue from.

[Litika Dor]

Litika was suddenly very glad she had been behind the captain and out of sight. If that stranger had made her, she would have been spacetoast.

"Who the hell was that?" she snapped, eyeing the transmitter warily.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

Sprocket, when put down in the ship, decided to look around for some work to do. First, he checked the hyperdrive engines. Fortunately, they were recently recalibrated and kept in pretty good condition for a YT-2000. Next, was the various rooms. All seemed to be in working order. The various storage spaces and everything, despite a little scoring here and there, were all in good condition. Next, the controls. Going to the cockpit, Sprocket began to purvey the controls. They were greatly used, and probably needed to be optimized. Unfortunately, to properly work on it, it had to be in port. So that's what Sprocket would do when he was in port next time. Next was the navigational systems. All seemed to be in good condition. And with everything done, Sprocket could relax a little bit.

And his version of relaxing was working. He needed a way to build a rebreather mask with a vocabulator. Rummaging through the ship, Sprocket finds some spare parts that would work. Looking into another unclaimed storage space, Sprocket found an older rebreather mask, though it was broken, and cast aside. A good sign. Sprocket, taking the tools he had, walked to the workbench and sat down, spreading out the tools. He began to work feverishly on the rebreather mask. Maybe soon he wouldn't have to write everything down.

[Sen Oisel]

Awkward.

Much had changed in only a split second. A Twi'lek sparked from the holopad, then vanished as quick as he came. The stealth of it all was admirable, but also creepy. How could have tracked my ship with such precision? It was a little too more to bare to conceive an idea. Instead, I wrestled with the truth of the matter.

Feruaj and I were on a listing now. Soon we could be attacked. At any turn there could be another face, besides the Empire, prepared to lift a blaster. For some reason the thought did not sit well with me.

However, I kept my nerves and focused at the moment at hand.

"I dont know. Want me to get you a drink?"

[Artisn]

Feruaj observed the furry critter get to work. As he questioned, the busy Ewok native occupied himself. It was hard to hear anyone over the sounds. So, instead of continuing to pry the wounded Besalisk struggled to a stand.

Cautious steps lead him to one of the quarters. Previously a blueprint of the ship had been sent to his datapad, so getting around the Midget Brow wasn't going to be hard. Although staying alive seemed to be.

Throwing himself on the bed, he pressed him stomach against the mattress. A good respite might heal his stinging tail bone.

[PD-A4]

"No. I can do it for you sure."

The rasp of an old vocal calibrator modified the Basic words into nice tone from the cockpit entrance. A Lurrian based protocol droid sat there. Years of Imperial presence and blockade of the planet left the produce of PD-series immobile, but the series still carried usefulness amidst the galaxy. Many overlooked the protocol droids type expertise, but Sen Oisel was not one of them.

Before a moment could allow a resent, the droid was out the door and back with a drink. Upgrades had enabled the bulky framed humanoid to manage a few beverages and meals, but not enough. Sen hoped Litika could do some of the cooking...eventually.

"Here you go ma'am."

[Sen Oisel]

A shrug, two nods were all that was necessary. Protocol driods grasped some aspect of human relation, but not all. After a dull moment of silence as Litika took the drink, the droid was off and out the cockpit slowly. As he walked a way an amused, nervous chuckle managed it's way out of my thoughts. That happened often, in the future I would have to keep a check on it.

"So, does it taste good? I think it's just Fizzy pop."

[Sprocket Gearhead]

Only as the Besalisk lumbered out of the chamber did Sprocket note the injuries. He was no medic, but he was capable enough to administer a shot. Reaching into his pack, he produced his datapad, and the syringe, filled with a painkiller and bacta cocktail. It didn't require intravenous transmission; a shot on the skin would do, and most likely on a soft spot.

Following down the hallway of the ship, Sprocket finds the Besalisk laying on a bed. He speaks in his native tongue to get his attention, before doodling away at the datapad. When finished he handed it over to the Besalisk. It said:

"I have a painkiller-bacta cocktail here. Medics say it works great, just a shot in the skin will do. Do you require it?"

[Litika Dor]

OOC: Sorry for delay, I didn't realize y'all had moved so fast ^_^

Litika dubiously took the soda from the old droid and, snapping off the top of the bottle, took a cautious sip. Then she smiled up at Oisel, pleasantly surprised.

"Hey, not bad swill you have here, for soda," she said appreciatively, taking another drink. "It's even my favorite flavor." She smiled at the bright orange color.

Then she stood. "Okay, Mr. Oisel. If you don't require my services for a hyperspace jump or another Imperial ambush, then I am going to go check out the ship where I'll be living for the next little while." After a pause, she added. "And, I haven't forgotten the Twi'lek. Worse comes to worse, captain? I'll be saving my own hide. No offense."

[Sen Oisel]

"Thats what friends are for?"

A wink, and my head was back onto the control panel. The seating arrangement in the cockpit were aligned. One behind the other, and it was nothing more than a pain. It left a lot of room for someone to sneak up on you, kinda like the Twi'lek did.

Darn wiggle-head had managed to burst through the traffic of space and channel onto the ship's frequency. Although it was troubling before, and I tried desperately to separate it from my mind it was still nudging at my ends.

I tried to relax by leaning in the chair, but it was no use. Soon, I would have to force myself to sleep to evade the traumatic drama. Too much stuff was happening to keep my choobies on a full tank and mind ready to even beat a gundark in dejarik.

[Artisn]

Ewok were weird things, at least to Feruaj. The chirps and subtle voices of their race provided a slight cuteness, but it was more their furball nature. They seemed like little kids of some sort.

After a quick read of the datapad, he shifted his head for a nod and relaxed for the upcoming treatment.

"I'd bez fine, furry-man."

[PD-A4]

The droids subtle movements could be heard in a slight creak through the main corridor. Cybot Galatica expertise had provided the model humanoid bolts to his legs, allowing quick and lull amble. Most Protocol droids did not carry an expertise in such simple things, but the PD were different. Lurrian outfitting and specializing gave the models a unique nature.

Bending over, he inspected the secretive holds amidst the ship. Many had been installed since it's initial creation, but Sen had further advanced the smuggling aspects. Compartments laid behind most objects riddled about the ship. Soon enough many would be full, held in embrace underneath the comfort of the hull.

A simple nod bolted the droid's neck as his check and scan returned perfect.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

Sprocket scribbled on his pad shortly after clearing the screen without saying a word.

"No prob. This'll hurt a little bit. But the relief should be there in....estimating your size, you'll be great in fifteen to twenty minutes."

Taking careful aim, Sprocket slowly but deftly slides the needle into the soft tissue of the Besalisk's side, causing only a slight discomfort as the cocktail made its way into his system. Finishing, Sprocket scribbles another message.

"There. All done. Now, I'm heading back to work on this rebreather mask. Maybe in twelve hours I won't have to scribble any longer......"

[Artisn]

Before he knew it, Feruaj had his face pressed into the nearby pillow. Discomfort he could deal with, but the pinch was reminiscent of the initial sting before. Only moments before the embarrassment flushed his face, emasculating the heavy Besalisk into a ball of foolishness. A shot to the butt was not one of the things you could share to a group of troopers at a cantina.

One bite-size moment later, and his head eased into the pillow for a sleep. Although he read the scribbled notes of the Ewok, he did not pay much attention. He rather take a nice sleep, and wake up to a new day. A day where blaster bolts weren't flying at his bum.

[PD-A4]

PD-A4 stayed busy, it was required and requested of him. Sen had put him on routes through the ship, checking compartments. Now that it was finished, he headed to the crew quarters. Much of it had been organized for guest, but since the unforeseen crew had been assembled the chambers were in need of a reformatting.

Much of it had been handled beside the closed room that held the Ewok and Besalisk. It was a surprise to encounter the two, but the protocol droid's sensors picked up no true distress. Despite the rather irregular laying style of the Besalisk, there was nothing too peculiar about the situation. Times before the PD-A4 had encountered an Ewok, and upgrades had eased the droid's comprehension.

"Hello there," the droid called, raising a welcoming hand to the small creature. A politeness rested in his mechanical voice projector, but it seemed genuine.

[Litika Dor]

Litika snatched up her satchel and flung it over one shoulder, wandering out of the cockpit down the corridor. YT-2000...she liked this model, nimble and practical, great for cargo transport--that is, smuggling. She could see some key modifications to the ship and some still-unfinished others.

Still nursing her orange pop, Litika glanced into one of the passenger rooms, where she saw the droid from earlier standing next to a table littered with metal scraps and tools. Sprocket the Ewok sat fiddling with something at the bench; on his far side, a great mound of Besalisk lay face-down on the bed, breathing evenly, asleep.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

The Ewok smiled, speaking evenly in his tones. Hopefully the droid would understand him.

"Hi."

Then, as the Ewok looked at the droid, an idea struck him like a wrench in the head.

"You wouldn't happen to know where any spare parts are, would you? Namely, a vocabulator?"

[PD-A4]

"Vocabulator?"

The protocol droid was taken aback, his bolted spinal column extended as he gesture a thought. The twirks of his mechanics began retracing the many images that flashed over his fields, but sparsely any mention to vocabulators. Only in his own blueprint could he retract such wordage.

However, in an onslaught of information he found the files on vocabulators. There were a few spare parts dragging about in the compartments in the actual room. It was pecuilar that his upgraded mechanics couldn't withdraw such information quicker than half a second. A single moment was a bit too longer for his own preference, but it was unecessary to dwell.

"Yes, we have one in this room. Captain Oisel put it in the compartment under the bed."

A naive point to the bed, and he watched with amusement. The personality input in him was checked for such behavior. Watching the Ewok struggle on the Besalisk weighed bed would certainly be an interesting sight to see. Hopefully the rested bulk would wake up with a flinging punch to make it more exciting.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

Sprocket nodded happily, his whole little body thrumming with excitement.

"Thank you."

Sprocket walked quickly over to the drawer underneath the bed. Sprocket pulled. No give. Sprocket jerked a few times at it. Still, no give. Smiling, Sprocket reached inside his toolbelt, and found a packet of lubricating gel. Ripping it open slightly, Sprocket spread some on a small brush, brushing down in the hinges and slides with the thin wirebrush. And with another small tug, the drawer slid free. Quietly Sprocket sorted through it. And at the very bottom of the drawer, Sprocket smiled. A vocabulator. Stuffing the part in his pack, the Ewok slid the drawer shut. It didn't quite latch. Sprocket gave it a kick. It didn't hurt his foot: he kicked rocks barefoot before, no big deal. And with that single kick, the latch caught. No problem.

Sprocket walked back to the desk as fast as his legs could carry him, and began to work on the newly acquired part.

[PD-A4]

PD-A4 found the shirade all too funny. Although his own vocal cordings allowed him laughter, he kept such showcase of amusement at bay. There was much more to do, and with the quarters at a still there was no more reason to unsettle it. Before a second could past for further enjoyment, the protocol droid twisted about and put himself on more pressing engagements.

Behind him stood Litika. From the previous encounter he kept his vocabulator at shut, and simply handed the fizzy-pop over for her own time. Now it seemed she would be in a refill, as well as a tour around the place. Despite he rather adept understanding of the ship, there were secretive places that the Captain had requested she knew only. There were also places the droid was not to divulge.

"Hello there Litika Dor. I'll be touring you around the ship. Do you need another drink?" He finally asked, his words cut precise and with a touch of courtesy to accentuate the dire need to assist.

[Sen Oisel]

Dreams were always hard to decipher, or remember. Especially for me. Only clips and segments resonated as my eyes flickered to an open. A wrestle comforted me in my seat as the dimly lit cockpit came into focus. The inactive control panel had long became attuned to the room's lighting, becoming as dark.

Much of my last thoughts consisted of working about the control panel, but along with the awkward slumber it was hard to grasp. Just like a pod-race, it zoomed past into the distance and became more iffy as I trained my mind for a stand. A strain was required as my body ached for an uplift.

Using the chair as support, I let my eyes wander off through hyperspace. Still the lines of star light glistened between a channel the ship perfectly dashed through. An eloquence carried in such a realm. Rarely did I venture in hyper drive, especially for such lengthy times, but I was fond of it.

"Calming," I mused as I came to a stand. Drifting out the cockpit, I hoped to find my way to the refresher.

[Artisn]

A grumble, roll and wiggle was all that the unconscious Feruaj could offer to the world. His mind was off into deep space, running through the deep end. Far away from the sting of his bottom, surprise of shots, and Stormtrooper security.

Back on his home planet, enjoying childhood. Alot had changed since then, but he would only get the time to retrospect outside of his slumber. So, he continued on with his snores and mumbles.

[Litika Dor]

Litika smiled thinly at the droid.

"No, thanks," she replied, raising her mostly-empty bottle in salute. "And how about we take that tour a little later? I'm gonna take a break right now."

Actually, she was just interested in the little Ewok and whatever he was tweaking. Especially now that he'd hunted up a vocabulator for it; that had been a bizarre request.

Besides, she thought it more worthwhile to get to know her fellow living crewmates, since droids were pretty much the same across the universe. She liked droids alright, but it took all of about five minutes to figure out each one's "personality" and each one's individual quirks. People took much longer to figure out.

Litika slid past the droid with a polite closing nod and set her pop down on the table with a soft clink.

"Hey," she said by way of greeting to the Ewok. He had seemed to understand Basic. "What you got?"

Leaning over a little, she eyed the telltale gas-exchange nodes of a rebreather. Hmm...rebreather and a vocabulator? Some kind of translator, then...

She ventured as much to Sprocket. "Oh, a translator. Hey, nice job..." It was a really nice job, actually, and he was working at a blindingly fast pace.

[PD-A4]

The protocol droid simply nodded in reply and headed off. There was much more to do during hyperspace.

[Lamar Starworth]

Delete

[Lamar Starworth]

Delete

[PD-A4]

Delete

[Sen Oisel]

A grumble and I was out the refresher's door. Only a wash, clean-up and I was ready to go.

"So, ya check the frequency on Coruscant for our contact? I needa hit grounds wit 'em before we make a pit stop at Corellia..."

[PD-A4]

Nods were becoming a new effortless response. A4 liked it. Supplying it once more, he headed off to the main corridor to set up the frequency for the holopad.

Soon enough the crew would be prepared for their pit stop on Corellia. The trip would be faster after a re-up from the Corellian sector, aswell. Captain Sen had thought this out well, especially since he had only woke moments before.

[Sen Oisel]

Propping my hands in my pocket, I headed to the holopad commission. The projector signaled readily, flashing over my body before resending the image across the galaxy.

"Hello there. The crew is going to make a pit-stop on Corellia."

The Nym had already known about the stop, but it was always best to reinforce such things. A slight blemish in the plan, he might send more than a Twi'lek holo to put me back in line.

[PD-A4]

A4 smoothly went into a call. The intercom on the ship activated, as the modules hummed of his voice.

"Everyone. Everyone to the main bay."

[Artisn]

All the dreams in the world couldn't withstand the scream of a droid. Agony perplexed his features as he jumped up readily, leaping out of the bed. Beside the rampant movement, his mind dwell on the sudden abscence. Pain did not rampage his bottom. No longer did he have to carry that nuna on his back.

Dancing off past Litika and Sprocket without a glance, he dashed down the main corridor. Before he could slide to a stop he pulled his fist back.

Before the Captain could take in another thought he was on the floor with blood trickling to the floor.

"Don't you evah!!!!" The rasp of his voice coated his bellow as he stared at the fallen leader.

[Sen Oisel]

Malaise tortiled my veins as my eyes wander to the side. A glance could not be more torturing. All that could be seen was the gross helix of gray, brimstone and dirt brown bulge spear my way. Boom echoed through my skull in a ricochet as my legs relieved themselves of weight. Grimace swerved my view to the side and then up. Coil of vision faded into a deepened void as I toppled to the floor.

Durasteel embraced my body in a uncaring thud. Distress premier at my toes and bounced upward like a lift into my brain for registration. I could not call out in response, only my nose replied with crimson tears. Ruby fluid flew from my nostril as I toppled, but during my lay it spilled in a darkened hue. My skin felt the thickness, but my eyes could not follow it all.

Still I sat in a void of emptiness, hoping to clutch back onto reality. All I could hear were the brash words of Besalisk.

Feruaj had hit me...and hard. Frell!

[Litika Dor]

"What the--?"

Litika jumped as the droid's voice came over the intercom, but she got really startled when the Besalisk, moving with speed and grace defying his size, leapt from the bed and flew out of the room and down the corridor. Litika heard what sounded like a fight, and jumped to her feet, running after him.

She stayed well back, however, when she saw Oisel on the floor, obviously in pain. The frell??

[Artisn]

Vengeance was sweet. On many occasions the former Bounty Hunter and mercenary had woke to combat. Such behavior had been instilled, and aggression was only instinct.

Yet a mark had been placed on him, not simply as a bounty but one of humiliation. No proud race could tolerate a dilemma of that sorts. So, without hesitation he had struck and could only smile at the product.

One more punk put in his place.

"Dont'cha evah shoot me 'gian. No choobie--" He said, going into a rant between his native tongue and basic. The insults flew like a peko peko from his chiseled lips.

[PD-A4]

Captain Oisel was A4's master, but he had be requested to go about his duties. Despite his despised nature to it all, he kept treading on past the fallen man. A dire glance carried the two emotionless eyes of the droid over as he searched for any inefficiencies with the frequency.

Droids had personalities, but they did not command everything. Especially the older models.

[Artisn]

"You," Feruaj finally stared at Litika. A snarl perched itself on his lips as he awaited her full attention.

"Pick 'em up. I'll clean 'em."

"Maybe he won't make da mis-ake of blast'n me in the tail-end 'gian and laugh."

[Litika Dor]

Litika's eyebrows elevated and she took a step back.

"What do I look like, the maid? My job around here is to help pilot and help keep the captain from tearing his ship apart. Janatorial work is not in my job description."

She glanced down at the captain, feeling a twinge of genuine pity. She had to remember not to tick off the Besalisk...

"Oh, and, you just knocked out our means of going anywhere. So I suggest you pick him up." Litika didn't think Ter would actually take a swing at her, but she tensed for a dodge and a little Force-ful persuasion, just in case.

[Artisn]

The snarl did not fade, but his eyes motioned. Drifting over to the fallen Captain on the floor, he nudged him with his obese feet. For the most part, Sen was out cold.

"Well," Feruaj turned his eyes sharply over at Litika. Once again, he had to remark to lay down. "You pilot da ship, frell!

And leave 'em here if ya please. It'll be a nice rest, like da space-head did me.

Eye fo' an eye, eh?"

Finally he smiled. It wasn't a pleasant one. The vile stench renown from nerf herders could be felt in his muster of happiness. Remorse was not one of the topics that the Besalisk cared much about, especially when it involved revenge.

[Litika Dor]

Litika nodded, crossing her arms.

"Oh, I would. But, see, I don't know where we're going. We'll eventually drop out of hyperspace, I suppose...but if we're then descended upon by a fleet of TIEs or something equally as pleasant, then you'll probably be wanting the captain to smooth-talk his way out of it."

[Artisn]

"Shut up and pick 'em up."

Feruaj frowned, his second pair of appendages dangling behind his back. At any moment he could swing, but he reserved such focus. Instead, he energized his legs and stepped over the fallen comrade.

"When 'e wakes, he'll kno' ya didn't help 'em out.

What sort of cut ya gunna get then, eh?" The Besalisk asked, sarcasm leaking from his dry tongue as he glanced over his shoulder with lazy eyes. Soon his lids dropped and he swung over to the nearby refrigerator.

Hopefully there would be a drink or two in there worth enough to refuel him after his sudden dash. It was necessary movement, but his throat was parched. Maybe one of them could be used to spill and wake up the young buck.

[Litika Dor]

Litika was thinking oaths in fourteen different languages at the Besalisk's back. She hoped he choked on his soda...

Moving to the captain's side, she nudged him with the toe of her boot. He half-groaned in response and Litika saw his eyelids flicker. Not totally out. Good.

She knelt down next to him and ran a soothing hand over his head, putting a miniscule amount of Force behind it, just to stop the nosebleed and drag him back to consciousness.

"By the way," she tossed over her shoulder toward Ter. "You're the one that knocked him out in the first place. What do you think that's going to do to your cut?" She smiled and drew back her hand as Oisel blearily opened his unfocused eyes.

[Artisn]

"We're even," he murmured as he took in a gulp of the soda. The trickle down his throat refreshed him, but the grim of his teeth still stayed.

Soon he would require a visit to the refresher. It had been days since he had taken a bath or shower of any shorts.

[Sen Oisel]

Red riddled the floor as my eyes went into a disarray. A small puddle had formed to my side, and the rest dried on my face. The thick fluid of my blood was foreign to me. Rarely had I seen it, and sparsely had it been forced out. Only on a few scraps as a kid, and wrong moves with parts had left the unfamiliar scent of blood touch my nose.

Now my nose released the scent. The blood continued to trickle, but the pain did not sting enough to call it more than a slight injury. There was nothing broke, which was fine. Beside my sight, I was okay...at least for a while.

Stumbling over to the closest seat, I dropped. Although I'm not certain, it was likely I hit the uncoordinated. It could only be expected, my vision was impaired. The fall had shaken me out of wacko and returning to normal took a few moments.

"What the--?" I mused, rubbing the nape of my neck as I bent over the seat. My extra hand was too preoccupied with wiping to blood from my nose to do anything else.

"Can somebody get me a towel o something?

[Litika Dor]

Litika went and grabbed a towel, then came back to Oisel.

"You're popular already, Captain," she smirked, handing him the towel. "Here, look up at me...if you don't have a concussion, I'll be surprised. You shouldn't have a head, anymore..."

[Sen Oisel]

"I've been told that befo--"

The sentence ended with a snort. I was certain there wasn't any blood, but an unsightly display was far more impressionable than a distorting restraint of snot. Both were nasty, but the latter was the best of the options. Lifting my head, I followed the woman's orders readily and with a smile to boot.

"You don't have to call me Captain, ya know."

[Litika Dor]

"Good. Cause I didn't want to. Mmm...nope, looks like you're in no imminent danger of your brain falling out your ear. Your nose is probably broken, though...does your droid handle medical, or are you gonna go patch it up yourself?"

[Artisn]

Feruaj grumbled, threw his trash away and left. It was not exactly fitting for him to stick around for the end of a conversation.

Down the nearest corridor, he headed for the refresher. Maybe he could clean his knuckle of the little specks of blood that had caught onto it, and catch a shower too.

[Sen Oisel]

"He can."

A snap, and the droid was back. The droid definately needed a tune up. My thoughts swarmed with unseen images. How could the droid simply be there without assistance. Although I was not totally certain what had happened, it was surely not safe.

"Get the stuff for my nose, A4."

The droid was off before I paused. No longer could I feel the pinching agony, but there was something slightly wrong about it all. Nothing seemed to sit right. Even I didn't...with my uncoordinated self.

"What happened?"

[Litika Dor]

"Ter came ripping down here and knocked your head off. He was mad you shot him." Litika paused, raised an eyebrow. "Did you actually laugh at him? Nice move..."

[Sen Oisel]

A grimace tattered my looks. All of the stinging pain for a simple laugh? Just a tad out of control. It was understandable to be mad, but to come out swinging. However, a good tutelage in the past kept me at bay. Anger just wasn't one of my best traits, and more than a quick Besalisk punch would leave me blind.

With a nice shrug, I brushed it off. Feruaj would get his, eventually. And I would be there...again, to laugh.

"Why didn't you laugh wit' me?" A smirk came to my face, replacing the grimace of my thoughts. "Then we could be here with bloody noses together?

That'd be romantic"

A chuckle shook my body, but ached my nose. Where was the droid? Frag.

[Litika Dor]

"Oh, yeah. Cause, let me tell you, I can barely keep my hands off that incredible face. You'll be a bruise from the neck up by tomorrow morning, and you won't even remember what you looked like before. Besides, I didn't laugh because I was much more concerned with getting the frell outta dodge at the time. Or maybe you forgot we were being shot at."

[Sen Oisel]

As always, I took it in stride. People grow on each other, and with a possible months to go she'd come around. Hopefully...

"I remember," I smiled once more. Time to switch the subject to something even lighter. There has to be some key in my pocket to open the door for a grin or two on her face.

"But we had Sprocket with us. That Ewok could have handled a trooper.

I mean, the cute furballs have done it before."

[Litika Dor]

Litika snorted. "If nothing else, he could have singlehandedly built a rocket launcher out of scrap metal laying around and blown them all to smithereens before they realized he was there. You should see how fast he's putting together a translator out of junk."

[PD-A4]

The droid rummaged through a few buckets in the compartments near the cockpit entrance. Fondling a few items, he finally retreived the necessary quanties and hurried back.

Running through the ship was testy, so he took to a quick amble. Hopefully he could return for the nose started leaking again.

[Sen Oisel]

For a moment I dwell on the thought. If she was right, the Ewok would be more than I asked for. A bargain, really. Before a smirk to clutter my features, I called out my restraint. Any mischievous thinking could wrestle with the already fragile inner working's of the ship.

"What about you? What can you make?"

"Maybe some Ansionian tea for the both us?"

[Litika Dor]

Litika's eyebrows shot clean up into her hair.

"What is with you people? I'm not your cleaner, your cook, or your callgirl. I am your copilot. You want tea, go make it yourself. Captain."

[Sen Oisel]

There was no chuckle to null the offense, or laugh to calm the nerves. I simply stared up at the heavens, hoping to restrain any flow of red from my nose. Blood wasn't tasty, and the first stop for it's drops would be my tongue. The thought was horrific.

"Well, if ya want some, I'll make it for ya' when the droid gets back."

[Litika Dor]

Litika sighed, reaching forward to very gently pinch the bridge of his nose. He looked about stupid sitting there with blood going both ways, and the droid taking its sweet time.

"Here, just hold still. He'll be back soon." Quickly Litika brought a tiny tendril of the Force to wrap around his shattered capillaries and close them off, hoping to staunch the flow.

[Sen Oisel]

Confusion. That was the exact word that described my eyes, my motions, my expressions. At least, I felt like it did. It was rare that anyone touched someone else's nose, but beside the assistance it was awkward.

"Uhhh...."

[PD-A4]

The droid blasted into the room with an effortless swiftness. Dropping before the Captain, his laid out the necessary equiptment and got to work. The remedial upgrades on the medical field had definately come in handy lately.

Before Sen Oisel, there were numerous other owners. He had always been required the usage of medical tools to keep them a drift toward death. People just weren't cautious like protocol droids.

Touching up his nose, he got into maintenace with a few kolto pieces. Then, as fast as he came, he went back to place the utensils in the compartments.

[Litika Dor]

Litika quickly ducked out of the droid's way. When the metallic medic had buzzed back out again, she moved to the doorway. "Alright. Now. Where do you keep the tea? I'll burn it, but you probably couldn't even walk into the next room." She raised one stubby finger. "But this is the last time."

[Sen Oisel]

A crooked smile rustled my lips as I pressed against the seat. My nose felt fine, by my humor was tingled. Flying solo would never be this amusing. All I'd have was a twitch droid to accompany me. People were a lot more fun.

"I keep it in a cabinet compartment by the entrance on the left."

This would definately be the last time...if it was horrible. I can't handle nasty tea.

[Litika Dor]

"Right, then," she replied, turning out of the doorway to fetch it.

Ten minutes later she returned, a mug in her hand. She passed it to Oisel.

"That...wasn't a total disaster. I'm shocked. Don't be counting on me to cook, by the way. I can't. Here, no idea how you take it...what do you want?"

[Sen Oisel]

"Doesn't matter." I smiled. "Aslong as it isn't...

Umm...nasty."

After a moment's lapse I took in a good sip. It would be enough to check of it was dirt or heaven.

[Litika Dor]

Litika shrugged fluidly, left again, and returned with her own mug.

"Hey, if it offends your delicate taste buds, try sucking some noseblood down with it. I'm sure it'd be a major improvement."

She then sat down in the copilot's chair and took a sip of the tea, which wasn't too bad, if she did say so herself.

[Sen Oisel]

A smirk slanted my lips. After a deposit of my hand to my pocket, I carried the mug out. Litika could keep her eye on the ship, hopefully. Meanwhile I could take some shut eye after a few more good sips.

Litika was something, but with a quick touch of the tongue it was clear she wasn't anything in the kitchen. A splash of tea propelled from my mouth and trickled down the side of the corridor. Snarl lifted my upper lip.

"Frag," I murmured as I treaded forth toward the Captain's quarters.

A shrug, and I headed inside. Slumber awaited, and so did another day. This adventure was already a trip...but tomorrow just seemed to hold more.

"Captain's log," I mocked. "My nose sucks."

The last muse escaped me before I rested my head on the pillow and went to bed.