A Tenure Sings of "Timber"

[Sen Oisel]

Blllonk!

"Frell!"

Once again the dagger was off, by a margin. The direct precision had become a tedious task since the rehearsal with Miriya. She had made it all the easier, but incisive moves still weren't a strong point. Always my mind was on the move, taking the situation far too serious. Just an ease of the breathe and everything seemed to flow fluently.

Before it worked, so I tried it again.

A sigh whistled from the depths of my lungs, and my eyes were left concealed. Amidst the sedation, an invisible pressure leaped off my back. Time seemed to slow down, which was a stark contrast to the objective. Dagger throwing managed to sped up the hyperspace travel to Tanaab, and had done wonders since the advance back on the Perlemian Trade Route toward Kashyyyk.

In a smooth transit, my body shifted to an open into existence. I blossomed as the world flourished about me, and my hand was thrown forth. The dagger flung itself from my soft clasp and flew toward the target on the wall.

Notice was not sent, and my body went into a shock as the fruit busted from the impact. The dagger had made contact, without an inch off.

"About time, dren!"

[Sprocket Gearhead]

As he hits the fruit dead on, a metal, busted nut sails past his head, missing his right ear by a millimeter. The spiraling nut strikes the largest of the remaining pieces of fruit. With a strange splatting sound, the fruit explodes into juice and pulp.

Sen turns around, to face the assailant, only to see Sprocket standing on his stool in his workshop, slingshot in hand. Apparently, the Ewok had fired into the room where Sen was practicing from his bench. The nut travelled from the Ewok's workshop, though the hallway, into the open door, past Sen's head, and into the fruit. Anyone who could read body language of any kind could tell that the Ewok was smiling. But to make things even more obvious was the chittering laughter, amplified from the rebreather vocabulator mask. The laughter resounded from the small mask, untranslated. It would seem that laughter sounds very close in all the languages of the galaxy.

Once the bout of laughter passed from the Ewok's little lungs, Sprocket's vocabulator sent a message, with a tone of congratulations.

"Nice shot, Sen."

[Sen Oisel]

In one shot the little midget managed to splatter the remains, and it took hours for me to do it more than twice. Some things in the galaxy just weren't fair, but such a display was beyond me. Before I could collapse in my own pity, my face contorted. The Ewok's laughter sent a merriment through my spine, canceling all spite.

There was no room for frowns now, only the promotion of joy in the glint of my eyes.

Turning about, I played my roll in the shirade. It was only right. We had enough time to fool around before the ship returned from hyperspace.

After the congradulation, my face jumped into a scrunch. Playfulness was always a large quality of mine. At times it even got me in trouble back in my old Outlaw Tech days. Making faces was just another speciality that I had attained, a long with fruit-killing.

"Shoo, shoo! Go fix somethin', furry-man!" I couldn't help but smile. Sprocket had shaped to be a worthy ally throughout the trip, especially since his antics began. Almost as humorous as the droid.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

The Ewok moved the mask aside long enough to take a sip of water. Then, as the mask returned, the voice echoed from the mounted vocabulator.

"Well, I'll fix something when you go fly something, spacer!"

And with this, the mask came off, revealing a wagging little tongue coming from the Ewok's mouth.

[PD-A4]

The Midget Brow was a large vessel for it's series. YT-2000 embodied numerous upgrades, and Sen's model withheld a various amount of modifications. Keeping such things up were the tedious task of PD-A4 and his newly acquainted friend, the Ewok.

At times the demented droid had slipped in his channels and called Sprocket a furball, but it was rare. Instead, he kept his circuit preoccupied with other objectives. Meddling was absolutely grand scheme, and the new compound of folk left a bundle of new items to be touched.

So, he was off through the halls toward the Besalisk room. Feruaj needed to be wake from his long slumber. The bully had been in his room for hours on end, doing nothing of importance from the protocol droid's assumptions.

[Artisn]

"Oooh. Oh yah!"

The datachip he had haggle back on Tanaab was a nice purchase. Most of the datapads he had acquired over the years weren't as fun. Sen had recommended it, probably to keep him out of his hair. Besalisk were angry folk when bored, and Sen had the memories of a ruined nose to remind him.

Pressed across the bed, the holoprojector sent a few of the finest gals modeling across the galaxy into the shine of his eyes.

"Miss Coruscant, I luv ja!"

Then a thud, swoosh and open deflated his dream land. Feruaj found out something new, though. He hated droids.

[Sen Oisel]

A chuckle wrapped me in a bundle as the little tongue peaked out of the furry mechanic's mouth. Such silliness was too much for me to swallow, and I nearly gagged on the humor. After a straighten of my composure, with a supported sigh, I drifted back into the role.

This was a lot better than flying a ship...atleast for now.

"Lin is handling it. Just like she is should.

My woman knows her place."

A wink, and the statement was done. Hopefully Lin wasn't watching. The new face, replacement. Litika had been dropped off on Coruscant after the alteraction. Something about law or something.

Lin was a fiesty one though. Not that anything was wrong with that...

[Sprocket Gearhead]

The Ewok was intelligent enough to get the human humor. He slips the mask back on.

"Yep. After all, you couldn't fly your way out of hangar bay if you tried....."

Another slight giggle, and Sprocket sighed, before returning to another datapad that he had found.

"Ok, so I've fixed the shield generator. Modified the hyperdrive. Recalibrated the cannons after that Kessel Run we did. They still have a slight problem with the fluxuators. The beams are too concentrated. Good for a fire fight, bad for coolant and power cells. Better double up on coolant, power cells, and maybe another exhaust fan next stop. Oh, do I need to modify the droid, Sen? You know, give him the ol' memory wipe-a-roo?"

[Sen Oisel]

"Nah, the droid is fine."

A sigh left my lips and I dropped my hands to my pocket. Time had come to head to the front of the cockpit. The Ewok was right about one thing. I should be flying.

"Go do that other stuff though. The Brow sound's like it is crap."

Not the sound...actually, but he needed something to do, and me too. Time had come to kill the laughter, and simply work.

[PD-A4]

"Too much fun?"

The protocol droids mechanical voice pierced through the silence of the room. His entrance was loud, as he felt it should be. Mechanical circuits pushed him a long as he neared the bed.

"We need to change the sheets, Feruaj Ter."

[Artisn]

A grumble of defeat whimper out of the Basilisk's chops. There was no chance of beating the droid down and getting away with it. Seemed Sen had some linking to the sack of metal.

"Whateva, just dont touch my datapad."

Time to grub. Leaping off the bed, Feruaj scamper out of the room in seek of food. His stomach had run low during that detour from Tanaab to Kessel. Finally a bonus had dropped into their pockets, though, so that was good. He had purchased a few nice things a long the way. There was no certainty that Kashyyyk had anything worth eating this time of the year.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

Sprocket nodded, before making his way to the cannons. He had tried three times before to fully recalibrate the cannons, but since the Kessel Run side job, when a stray asteroid skipped off the shields and jarred loose the cannon array, the Ewok found it difficult to get the power fluxuation settings just right. They seemed to be running on high, which gave the cannons an extra punch, but at the expense of wiring, power cells, recharge circuitry, and the coolant running to the blasters. The coolant he'd have to go outside the ship to do it, and in hyperspace that was impossible. But the recalibration he could do. He busied himself with it, tinkering with the power couplings and cells housing.

[PD-A4]

The tools had been laid out, and there was only his scrap hands to continue the procedure. Without Feruaj to pry and scrutinize his dealings, the PD series protocol droid went to work. Grabbing up the datapad, he tinkered away. Flash of images splashed over the scene as the datachip reactivated.

Scandalous attire draped over a number of diverse woman of many species. Most he knew the tongue of, but it meant nothing. PD-A4 was inclined to erase all the information, yet as always his circuits managed to fester on more devious options.

After a moment or two, the images cam to a dull end and returned to the holopad on the datapad. If the droid was a man, a satisfied smile would have shined a long his dull features, but he wasn't. So his excitement was instilled within before he drifted off out the room with the sheets.

He had to fulfill the endeavors he initially came in for. So a skip of his steps and he headed toward the cleaning room near the refresher. Time would only tell how amusing his tinker would be.

[Artisn]

The main deck clamor with the thuds from Feruaj speeding feet before it came to an abrupt halt. In a moment of hush the refrigerator door was unlocked and opened. Food dressed the cool shelves inside, but soon his hands pulled the refueling items down.

Placing it all along a table, he began picking out from the options what he craved most. The other would be returned or stashed in his room for later.

[Selinica Miriya]

There had been plenty of time for uninterrupted sleep. Despite that it appeared one or two members of the crew were hunted, the journey after leaving Coruscant had been surprisingly quiet. Thus, Selinica Miriya had gotten plenty of sleep, and was more than well-rested, and subsequent sleep afterwards had been quite peaceful. Today, she had lain awake for a while, listening to the banter of the crew, the thunk of a dagger embedding itself into a bulkhead.

Good. He's practising.

After cleaning up, she reattached all her assorted weaponry to her person and left the room she'd been assigned. Time to be sociable.

"I heard the noise that dagger was making, Sen. Getting any better with that?"

[Sen Oisel]

"Of course."

Miriya had appeared from the archway, catching my eyes off guard. However, keeping compose wasn't a trait that I had lost with my wits during the assault on Coruscant. Still I was as regulated as possible. Even with the wild array of silliness behind me, not an endeavor had led me down a jumbled pathway. Straight forward was the motto of my little family.

"Because of your great teachings," I finally added, throwing in a wink.

A smirk pressed into my lips, my hands digging deeper into my pockets. I felt my shoulders falter under the pressure of habit, and the slanted grin faded.

"What have you been doing all this time? Haven't seen you. I needed someone to eat those prisht I shattered."

[Sprocket Gearhead]

At the mention of this, Sprocket walks into the room, walking past Sen. The Ewok's fur was matted slightly with grease from various parts. Walking to the shattered fruit, Sprocket begins to grab a few pieces and drop them into a bag made of cured leather hide. He filled the bag with the exotic prisht before walking back out, munching on a piece as he left.

[Sen Oisel]

I could feel my face furrow from the restraint. Sprocket's antics were always laughable, especially recently. Everything seemed to go on cue, and without a glance I knew not to allow myself the pleasure from the humor.

Pocketing my hands, I glanced off toward the corridor too the cockpit. Time had come to get out of hyperspace...or so I felt. I had a feeling about those kinda things.

Kinda like a sixth sense or something.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

As he got out of the hallway, Sprocket gagged. His coughing and sputtering could be heard from the hallway. The prisht were a bit tart for his taste. Reaching into his pocket, he found some salt packets from a previous meal. Sprinkling the salt onto the piece, Sprocket took another bite. The tartness was minimized by the salt. It wasn't too bad now....

Walking to the workshop, it was time for Sprocket to relax a little bit, get some rest and relaxation before continuing work. Sitting at his workbench, Sprocket took out his slingshot, and began to work a power cell and the targeting HUD onto it. It would take an hour or so, but he would have it up and running, and probably another few minutes to recalibrate. Sprocket busied himself with the project.

[Sen Oisel]

My mind swung me off into the distance, and into the cockpit. As I expected, we were seconds from exiting hyperspace.

"Time to get this mission done."

[Artisn]

Drop and plot. Feruaj placed all the food across the finely pressed matress, his eyes mesmerized by the numerous commodities he had gained from his small voyage. A smirk parked itself on his wide face, the excessive fat dangling underneath his chin jiggling at the broad change.

"Great, good, great."

The thought sparked over his mind. There could be nothing better to accentuate the situation more than a touch of his datachip. Grabbing up the datapad, he activated it as he stuffed some of the snacks into his mouth for a tasty treat.

The wait wasn't long, but the anger at the first sight was.

"FRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

[PD-A4]

A mechanical laughter sizzled from the engineering in his vocal box. The Lanlif product stood, nestled in the cockpit as he watched Sen Oisel get to work. The echo of Feruaj words rampaged over the corridors and nearly shook the hull.

All too funny to the simpleton. The place had grown a bore since Litika's departure, and he had to keep his mechanics preoccupied to sustain full optimism. He was simply programmed that way.

So, his eyes observed. Watching carefully as Sen flee from the fields of hyperspace and entered known space. The spectacle abroad were stars, gleaming in all their beauty and a riddle of planets. One was closest, which the droid presumed was the target.

Kashyyyk

[Sprocket Gearhead]

Sprocket, while working on the HUD display for the slingshot, heard the exclamation from Feruaj. Surprised, Sprocket drops the hydrospanner, and nearly falls off of the stool. Figuring that it was just that droid acting out again, Sprocket picks back up the hydrospanner, and continues to work.

Whether Sen liked it or not, that droid needed at least a memory wipe, if not to be thrown in the recycling bin. They could get some good creds off of the scrap....

Taking another bite of the salted prisht, Sprocket fervently continues his work.

[Sen Oisel]

A pull left the ship at an disturbing halt. Although I didn't quake, my body shiver from a slight excitement. Once more we would be finishing another run. Despite the rather lengthy pause, my mind was had become assorted to space.

Even the twinkle of the stars abroad did not phase my mind. All there was were the window before me, and the planet held in suspension.

"It's time."

A smirk pasted itself on my face as I looked back at the new copilot. She was new, but we had came far. Only a few bounds seperated us from an end.

[Telan Desaria]

Commodore Wavell rubbed his eyes. Sixteen hours was a along shift for any man of fifty years, but sixteen hours in command of one of three sectors of a planetary blockade was quite taxing. Officers brough reports, yeoman relayed orders without end, the alarms of all kinds sounded with what now sounded like increasing regularity.


For a world of furry mammoths, they have put up an excellent fight. Wavell thought back to the oblong blockade runners that continued to torment he and his men - the three hundred meter ships had the speed of corvettes half their size and had managed to evade all but the most ruthless pursuits. The Wookiees were indeed resisting well.


" We're detecting a hyperspace reversion in grid 344-500-Bravo," commented a sensor officer. The Commodore did not even look up from the panel of deck plating he was intently memorizing.


" Is that one of the entry vectors we've broadcast as approved for our supply ships?"


" Negative, sir."


" Very well - send in an intercept."


Commodore Wavell smiled to himself. Captain Texanna was doing an excellent job of running the sector when fatigure set in. I have to decorate him later.


From near the small Victory-class Star Destroyer Proxima came two Imperial gunships, Rapier-class. The agile vessels made impressive timing to the reversting ship and training weapons on it before the interloper knew what system it had arrived in.


" Sir, the ship is registering as a YT-2000 freighter, no known markings."


" Is it responding to hails?"


" No sir, - wait! She's running for the surface!"


The Commodore stood up and moved over to the Captain. " It's a runner, then. Destroy it. I'm retiring for the evening. Captain, you have the bridge."


The gunships set to work.

[Sen Oisel]

The cockpit rung with alarm, my eyes running across the dark void. My palms dashed over, eyes warrant to the incoming comm. The frequency was foreign, and my ears were exotic. Nothing aligned, and everything seem to steam in the wrong direction. Discretion advised me wayward, but my focus told me otherwise.

Outside sat danger, and my body could feel it. However, the ship sped onward toward the planet below, it's back to the treading troubles. I could feel something about to go down.

[Artisn]

The grind of the Besalisk hands tamper away at the datapad as the ship splashed over space toward the objective. Much of the hunger was retraced back to his datapad. The chip had been heavily tinker with, and without a bit of assistance from the Ewok it didn't seem like anything would change.

But how could he stroll up to an innocent furball and ask him to bring up such images.

He had too much pride, too much style. There was no way he would tear his proud fascade for a hacked datachip. Always was a chance that he could manifest a change.

[PD-A4]

The Lanlif product wiggled his way closer to the cockpit controls. Already the chamber had been siren with alarms of an incoming call, but the pilot had choosed otherwise. The little droid was a bit more interested in the frequency. Rarely did the ship merit unknown comms.

Running his hand over the controls, the PD protocol droid read over the frequency. Definately rare breed, at least in the dealings of the ship.

"Imperials, sir."

[Sen Oisel]

"The Empire?"

Only a snarl fester on my lips. I had to go. We had to go. We had to live.

Empire, yah that was danger. Big danger.

[Stormtrooper]

A siege required control. Without the management, there was always the possibility of revolt. Kashyyyk had numerous case of rebuttals. Over time it had reformed into a slavery outpost, and live cargo shipped out on a daily basis. Beside the fury exteriors the planet was riddled with intellectuals, prepared for war cries and inevitable defeats. Morale rebuilt the garrison on the planet, and there was nothing but scrimmages to claim the world anymore. Every Wookie that took a stand was left with burning blaster bolts for their cremated funerals.

There sat a slight joy in the throne of control, but it was unseen. Only a terror clasped the skulls of the numerous Stormtroopers that claimed the land. Faces of the Empire, coated in a horrific guise. Nothing in the galaxy seemed so fitting.

Flat foot steps pressed across the wooden tile that whirled about the natural skyscrapers. Trees reached almighty heights, and even the experienced wise men of the Imperial operation could be awestruck by the unique world. Details derailed the mind occasionally, but a station on the planet's surface would change the joyous occasions readily.

Down on the surface sat vile critters. Causalities clamper the systematic recons and routine inspections. It was just not very safe to live on the surface, but some squads had to do at some time. The terror was enough to rival or swallow the very display of the Stormtrooper armor.

[Selinica Miriya]

She watched as the crew suddenly went into a hustle.

"Imperials...Bah. Bunch of stuck-up lowlives."

Selinica straightened herself up. She never did like imperials, and it'd been a long time since they had wanted anything to do with her. That monstrosity of a sith she once knew had everything to do with that.

"Sen, if I see even the glint of a 'trooper helmet, they're going to get gutted and hung up to dry. Literally." She flashed a sun dagger, very reflective. It picked up on any light that came over it, and could be blinding. With enough light, that would be permanent. "Just thought i'd let you know I don't like them as much as you do."

[Sen Oisel]

A hint of a smirk trample my lips into a bumpy road, sending curved lines at my cheeks. The thought of Miriya's words gave me no purpose in heed. There was no room for fault in the clearly soured plan.

Not even a smile could find itself on my face. Intensity burrow my eyebrows into a slant, sweat starting its way from my pores as I pushed away at the control panel. Another thrust could put us closer to the closure. I could only hope for a clean conclusion. My plate was already too full with all these crew live in my hand. Putting my own as a topping would only send me into a vomit.

[Sprocket Gearhead]

While fixing the HUD on the slingshot, Sprocket overheard part of the conversation. At the mention of Imperials, his stomach sunk. They were after him for stealing. He only stole something simple, and yet they were chasing him all over the galaxy. It made no sense!

A few hurried movements and a quick realignment of the aiming sensors, and his newly powered slingshot, mounted with a HUD holoprojector, was ready to go. All it needed now was a battle test. And if the Stormtroppers boarded, it would definetly get it. And the slingshot might make a good weapon, if it stayed in his hands. If he stayed alive.

Finishing the remainder of the salted prisht, Sprocket steeled his nerves. He was ready.

[Sen Oisel]

Propelled through space with a few hand movements, I tried desperately to evade the inevitable attack. The Empire held an array of battle-tested bombers on their frigates and Destroyers, so there was no room for needless chattering.

Not a word came forth. All the time was preoccupied with movements, speeding closer and closer to the planet's atmosphere.

[Artisn]

"Frack! Frack! Frack!"

[Sen Oisel]

The ship screeched.

It's ache echoed through hollow space, and bellowed in my ears. Circling through the lobes of my hearing, I let out anguish through the illustration of my face. Expression distorted my vision as I cringed over. Another shot splashed against the rear of the ship's husk and pierced with efficency. The rattle sent my seat into a bash as whiplash rummaged my senses as I was thrown aback.

Logic rummbled through my depths, and my heart jump into my tongue. A clench of my teeth held it from jumbling out of my mouth as I bared my fangs. Pushing away at the controls and activating the thrust I awaited the response.

Nothing...

Not a single spark...

Trouble was an understatement at this point. We were already coming in hot through the atmosphere, and it wasn't a single activity to be done to halter our rocket to the surface. Patience trickled away as I sent my hands into a disarray in hopes of pressing something that may help. No assistance came, not even a guise to mislead me. There wasn't much hope, but I held onto the strand.

Pushing the ship to a leveled drop, I felt gravity take it's toll as the planet's beauty took contrast to the diminished hope. Trees strung out in leaps of fist, branches punching at the hull as I toppled to the grounds below. Bash after bash jumbled the ship's crew into a fall as I clenched onto my seat adn the control panel.

Then everything went black...