Ships Fall

[Adia Issoris]

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http://panicked.org/swf/morg/Serna-Pur-s.jpg (http://panicked.org/swf/morg/SernaPur.jpg)


A sleek fishercat hung its flat head off of the dock, flat ottertail twitching behind. It was crouched low, but the hind legs rose slightly, and held the cat's hindquarters slighty above the metal planks. Yellow-green eyes gazed through the reflection of the purple and red sky, looking for fish or squid. The feline's ears flattentend down, protecting them from the cool saltwater below. A silvery flash, and the cat was upon it. It climbed back out, using a barnacle coated pylon. A fish was squirming in its jaws.

West, juvenilles of various intelligent species waded out on the sandbars for muscles. Playfully, a young rodian boy gave a zebrak boy a shove into the back of a human girl. The human and zebrak splashed into the water for a moment before each grabbed a green ankle, pulling the instigator in with them.

Evening was drawing near, pulling the nebulae sky from light purples into a deep indigo. The tide would rise soon, closing the sandbar off from the sandy shore. Giggles of joy and groans of dissapointment at the day's take faded into the roll of the sea. In the distance, a metal ship sat in the mouth of the harbor, pointing it's rail cannons into the distance. The lighthouse came to life, a stone tower of twenty stories that guarded less technological ships from the shoals.

For the first time in a hundred years, the nebula crackled with lightning. Would the ships fall from the sky, as their elders said?

----

Jori the Gunslinger rode apart from the caravan, as he always did. His wide hat kept his face and eyes from the suns as they began to dip beneath the horizon.

His reputation was as legendary as the weapons he carried, guns that threw iron using only electricty and not the smelly powder. One of the slaver's swords glanced over at him, only to have his gaze returned by cold black lenses that shielded Jori's eyes. Many thought the legend mute, for he conducted bussiness only with nods and shakes of his head. Yet for all of his fame, his name was always met with distrust, for he was only loyal to the coin.

The hired sword shuddered as Jori's gaze returned to the horizon. Blor the Hutt of Et'Un'Wen wanted fresh slaves from Juruffor, but the plains between the two cities were roamed by tribes of free human and zebrak that would kill slavers on sight. They occasionally raided legitimate free traders.

This night, like every other, Jori set up his own fire, roasted his own food, and tended to his own Erk bird. Behind him, the slavers and swords were making their own camp for the night. Some murmered about ships falling as the nebula sky crackled with lightning. Others laughed, saying it was only the tales of the old.

---

Again, the Elder Astronomers were fighting for use of the massive lense arrary on the top of the Watch. Their apprentices joined in the verbal fray, each proclaiming their Master's work most important of all.

The planets were aligning for the first time in a hundred years, but the flow of the nebulae gas was faster than anything recorded in half a millenia.

Old Riggen cleared her throat, and the debate died to a murmur.

"What we have here" she began with a voice scratchy from age, "is the busiest sky in seven hunndrred years. Now all of you want to observe the phenomenon. Everyone will, won't they Master Sern?" Master Sern blanked on his chubby face for a moment. He was not accustomed to public speaking, even though he was perhaps the most skilled of his peers. Curls circled his bald spot.

"The Fall should, uh, last for ah year this time, er, by my calculations." Gasps were heard through the crowd.

"I was but a squirm when the last Fall came. Records of skipped Falls have been recorded before. Seven hunndred years, Astronomers, since there has been a skipped fall like this. For this, we have made preperations. Many of you wondered where the Tinkers went. They have been busy with a special project."

"Aircomms." Riggen's grey eyes glinted. "Our guildhouses at Yun's, Irdgen's, Galewarden, Nar Kith and Vun Doruth now can report instantly.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd again.

"At what expense?" Riggen frowned at this. It had been damned expensive to rig together six comms that worked at such great distances, and they required constant monitoring to maintain functionality. Nar Kith's tended to misbehave when harrassed by costal storms, too.

"Not as great as you would think. This may be the bussiest Ship-Fall in seven hundrrred years. Think of the resources we gain if we get to the ships first!"

---

Adia finished unscrewing the barrel of her Xerrol Nightstinger and carefully placed both halves of the weapon in a shieled case. Three cartridges charged with the specially processed blaster gas that gave it invisible bolts were put with the Nightstinger. Nearby, a WESTAR-34 blaster and three cartridges for it. One Telltrig-7 holdout blaster. Two weighty, thirty-centimeter vibrodaggers. The blades were laser honed. If Adia desired, she could shave her legs with them. Ten hair pins filled with a powerful tranqilizer that worked on most species, one multitool and a grappling hook with microfiber rope. Her suit of Mistryl ceramic plate armor was neatly packed away at the bottom of her suitcase.

She was finally leaving Coruscant, away from the hostile Krinsy Crime Syndicate and Black Sun. After her misadventure with Sanis Prent, Adia decided to look for friendlier waters. That, and she needed to find out why Aliya Vahlshalynn was so delayed. It was likely Moff Vahlshalynn had complicated matters. He would be loosing his favorite display piece—his daughter. Still, Adia had made it clear that working that out was between Aliya and the Moff. She liked Aliya, but helping her would flush a solid record.

Sucessful? Adia was very good at her job, had never betrayed an employer, and only had one bad hit. It was a stellar reccord for thirty years of service. The fact was that she killed people for a living. “Success” felt awfully hollow. She had thought about quitting. There was enough money in her accounts to find a quiet backwater world and retire. But what would she do? Adia stared at her array of weaponry and sighed. Until she figured that out, she would be an assassin for hire.

The assassin finished packing and took a cab to the district spaceport. She had booked passage to Bpfassh on a common transport—massive, spacebound ships that never got too close to gravity. They weren't much more than chairs, atmosphere generators, and a hyperdrive wrapped in a three kilometers of hull. They weren't very fast, nor luxurious, but they granted a degree of anoyminity that other transports didn't, such as minimal paper work and baggage inspections.

Adia boarded the loading craft, tactfully avoiding other passengers. She took a seat twoard the middle of the ship, near the emergency air suits for the unlikely event of decompression she muttered along with the looped recording in six different languages. Adia stared blankly through her mirrored sunglasses, greatful that the universe had decided to be merciful and leave her alone.

“Mooommeee I have to go to the fresher.” Adia turned and glanced at the family seated across from her. A little girl tugged on her mother's hand.

“You went just before we left.” Mom sounded a bit exasperated.
“Gotta go gain.” Mom sighed and gave in. Silently, Adia wondered what it was really like to be a mother. Surely there was more to it than that. For the first time in a year, she wondered what became of her son.

[Serena Laran]

Buckling in, Fleet Admiral Serena Laran of the Imperial Sovereignty settled into her ergonomically designed seat. The Lambda class shuttle was an older design, but still had a comfortable v.i.p. room.

"Initiating launch in two minutes." The voice coming over the intercom was not familiar. The pilot, an Ensign Jomarr, was fairly new, fresh off Carida's training program, and this was his fifth flight as a graduate. He sounded nervous, but shuttling from the Kelvin to Thyferra was not too hard. At least, it wasn't supposed to be. Just a small hyperspace jump of less than a day, and they'd be there.

Laran folded her hands and waited calmly. She could hear the six trooper escort in the other compartment, being slightly rowdy as they settled in for the jump. The shuttle, christened the Pathfinder, edged forward as the repulsors came online. Serena could see in her imagination the magnetic shields opening and the shuttle edging out into space.

Just a short visit to the Grand Admiral, and I'll be back. Serena peered out the small viewport beside her, and looked back at the shrinking ISD.

"Hyperspace in thirty seconds."

The shuttle jumped two seconds early.

[Jackson DeWitt]

"Thanks, Mister. I really appreciate it!"

The grizzled spacer smiled, showing the gaps of missing teeth.

"Don't mention it, son. I'd fly through the black holes of Kessel for a Jedi Knight. Don't nobody rightly respect you for what you do these days."

Jackson blushed.

"Well actually, I'm just a Padawan Learner, mister."

"Marcune." The spacer corrected. "Ya can call me Marcune. And knight or no, you're a special lad."

As Marcune fired up his freighter, Jackson stowed away his small bag, taking a seat in the pilothouse.

"Well I wouldn't really say that, Marcune. I'm not exactly a great learner. Heck, it took all I had just to get accepted in the first place."

Marcune simply shook his head.

"Yer humble. That's a fair sight more than most could say if they had what you have."

Jackson looked out a viewport, and sighed.

"Yeah, but being humble isn't exactly going to make me a better Jedi."

Marcune laughed, a raspy sound, as he pulled away from the Coruscant skyhook.

"Maybe not, but it'll make you a better person. That's worth its salt, ev'ry bit as much as being a better Jedi. Hell, maybe even goes hand in hand."

He placed a calloused hand on Jackson's shoulder.

"Of all them spacers out there, with them nicer ships and sightlier pilots - I ain't exactly a young buck anymore son. Of all them, ya singled me out. Ya talked to me. Takes a diff'rent person to be like that, to a fella like me. Most 'd be afraid I'd shanghai 'em at spacedock. Look a right scurvy space pirate."

Marcune's hard eyes glistened for a moment, but it was fleeting.

"I ain't been treated square like that since me & my boy flew together. That's been a long time, Jackson. Long time."

There was an uncomfortable silence as the freighter maneuvered away from its berth, and accelerated toward the edge of the Sesswana system. Eventually, Jackson broke silence.

"Not meanin to pry, Marcune...but what happened to your son?"

The old spacer flipped through a series of controls. He spoke after a few seconds.

"Oh, he figured he'd go off and fight the Empire. Didn't think we could make a decent living under them. Course, I wouldn't have it. Was a damn fool thing to do, in my book. We argued one night, and I said some things I wish I hadn't. He left at our next port of call. Never saw him again."

The spacer's brow furrowed, and he continued.

"Course the boy was right. Ain't no proper livin to be had under them Imperials. I got boarded afterward. They took my cargo. Without that, an old space dog like me's got nothin to show for a decent living. I'd had it, and went off to join the rebellion too.

Coruscant and her sister worlds began to fade in the background as the freighter reached open space. Marcune didn't engage hyperdrive just yet.

"I'd been smugglin tibanna for the rebels for two months, when I heard the news. My boy'd been killed. Shot down over Yavin or somesuch."

Jackson said nothing, but remained an ear for Marcune's testimony. The old man's voice wavered briefly.

"If we ain't quarreled that night...if I hadn't been a stubborn old gundark...maybe I coulda gone with him. Maybe I'd a saved him. But I didn't."

Marcune looked to Jackson, and blinked away a tear at his eye.

"That's why I mean it when I say, your heart's in the right place, Jackson. I ain't properly atoned for my boy, but I see you, and I see that same damn foolish twinkle in your eye. I ain't about to let ya go it alone. Figure this be my second chance to understand what my boy'd been fightin for."

Jackson was left speechless from what Marcune said. At last, his voice returned to him.

"I thank you for this, Captain Marcune."

The old man shook his head, as he adjusted the coordinates in his navicomputer.

"No Jackson, I thank you."

With that, the old space dog punched the accelerator, and the starlight blurred into bright streaks.

[Adia Issoris]

People spilled out of the shuttles in clumps. Families moved together, while loners and couples flowed viscously into the massive ship. Adia found an empty seat near one of the many bulkheads. While this cornered her, it also meant no one could sit to her left. A fair trade off. Adia struggled to put her suitcase in the overhead luggage compartment, wishing that she wasn't so damned short. After two conventional tries, she jumped up with the heavy case in one hand, and grabbed the lip with the other. With a quiet grunt, she shoved the metal luggage home. Most were too busy going about their own bussiness to notice.

Someone did, though. Adia sat down, and crossed her arms, and looked up at the approaching young fellow.

“That case must'a been pretty light.” he said. Inwardly, she sighed. The last thing she needed was gallantry. Adia looked up at him through her silver wrap-around mirrored glasses. He wasn't terrible looking, but he had a bit of a gut, and his nose was off center; probably from the last woman he had used a similar line on.

“Mhmmn.”

“Issat seat taken?”

“Mhmmn, it is.”

“Well, I'll get up when they get back.” Adia frowned, but the bastard sat down with an exagerated sigh.

“Not every day you get to sit next to a pretty little woman like yerself. What's yer name, red?”

“Please leave.”

“Now that's an odd name, Miss Leave.” Do I have to kill this guy?! He reached his arm around her shoulders.

“Leave.”

“Nah, don't think I will.” Adia rolled into his lap and sat sidesaddle, with a vibrodagger in hand.

“Leave, or I'll cut your best friends off.” She whispered into his ear, with a hint of enjoyment. He froze solid, and the fear stink began to rise up after his eyes glanced down. The color drained from his face when the dagger started to humm softly. The dagger dissapeared, and Adia returned to her seat.

He got up slowly, shaking, and quickly walked away. Adia propped her feet up on top of her backpack and sighed.

[Vhiran Crescent]

Vhiran yawned at the feeble controls of the medium-sized transport ship. It was an odd one, indeed, but only because there were only two people on it. He and Sollak had just hijacked a civilian shuttle from Tyrena, Sollak was just along for the ride. They had a job, from a certain Rodian. He had asked for a medium class transport vessel from Corellia. He didn't say what kind, but the pair didn't care. They had picked out a Corellian Corvette nicknamed the Firestar, by Sollak. It was quite simple, actually. It was late that night, and not many people were out. They had snuck onto the ship very easily without being suspected. With a certain finesse, Sollak got everyone off the ship, Vhiran handled the controls, and they were off without a trace. Now what the Rodian wanted the vessel for was beyond him, but they didn't care and didn't ask questions. After it was over they would forget about it.

Vhiran poured himself a Corellian ale, from the cockpits synthesizer. It wasn't too bad, he rather liked Corellian ale, though of course, coming from an onboard synthesizer, it was not the best he had ever had.

[imported_Darriann Sollak]

"Ok. Everybody off. CorSec needs to search the ship for... Uh... Contraband. Please don't push. Your luggage has already been put off the ship. CorSec is sorry for the inconvenience. If you have any complaints contact the Director." Darriann moved up past the people and walked past each cabin making sure no one was left behind. He walked up into the crew quarters. "CorSec has reason to believe this vessel is holding contraband so if you could leave the ship that would be great."

The captain of the vessel stepped forward. "Hey! How can you do this?"

"I'm CorSec. I can. Do I have to escort you off with resisting... Ummm... Uh, inspection. Now please disembark."

The Crew got off the ship without much hassle they grabbed their things they had for the trip and walked onto the bay's surface. I can't believe they fell for that. Boy will they be surprised when this baby takes off and they're on the ground. Darriann dropped his pack in one of the cabins and quickly switched out of the disturbing CorSec uniform. I hate CorSec. Why couldn't Vhiran be the officer? He made his way down the hall.

The ship rumbled to life and started lifting off the ground. Darriann looked out the viewport and onto the ground. He saw everyone angry. He laughed, "Suckers. Good thing I disabled the comm system down there. Smooth sailing from here on out."

He walked into the bridge and saw Vhiran sipping a drink. "Where's mine? How is it? Wait, let me guess... Synthetic" He grabbed himself a glass and took up a seat beside Vhiran. He smirked, "Too easy."

[Adia Issoris]

There was a very old saying that applied to the current situation: “You get what you pay for.” Loading the ship took an awfully long time. The only big advantage to getting on early was finding a decent seat, and you wouldn't miss the jump. Inevitably, the seats filled, and the ones next to Adia was now occupied by a Zebrak couple that seemed happy to ignore her.

”Five minutes until hyperspace, please secure your belongings and fasten your seatbelts. This route will include: Duro, Umgul, Naboo, Sullust, Sulis Van, Bpfaash...” the list continued until it looped back to Coruscant. Total circuit time: ten days, five hours, give or take loading and unloading. Getting to Bpfaash would take the better part of 24 hours.

Adia hoped the trip would be dull, because she had decided to take a nap. She drifted off slowly, and slipped into a deep sleep. Beneath the silver glasses, her eyes green dialated and narrowed to slits. REM sleep took hold, and so did the dreams.

Adia woke on the cold metal floor, stripped to her bare skin. She had been traded to a different prison, or so it seemed. The last thing she remembered was getting hit with multipule stun bolts, and that grin.
The rotten teeth, the vile breath. The unkempt, dirty beard sticky with an alchoholic drink, although she didn't know what booze was. The greasy, dark hair, which had not seen water in weeks. They laughed, that man and the men with him. Adia didn't understand, nor did she manage to ask coherently with her broken Basic. His friend grabbed her breast, looking down at her with a grin. She batted his hand away, but they laughed at her, until Adia threw him threw one of the tables in the room. Crouched low and growling, the escapee looked at them through narrow black slits surrounded by brilliant green. The first blast only seemed to agitate her, but the second made her fall and the third knocked her out.

“Amazing. Bitch took more than a Gamm...”

Adia snapped back to the new, cold reality of the bars. She stood slowly, and touched the bars. Nothing happened. With care, she wrapped her hands around two of them and gave a yank. Adia screamed as electricty coursed through her body, but she could not let go. After a minute of agony, it stopped, and she dropped back onto the cold floor. Her hands and fingers steamed; they had become cooked. Now despondent, she pulled her knees to her chin and cried. Her escape had only led to something worse.

The yellow, rotten teeth and horrible grin returned later. His troop followed behind him, but only he entered the cell. Adia backed herself into one of the corners, and every time he reached for her, she nimbly ducked away. After ten minutes, he got tired of the game, and called in the two biggest thugs in his gang of slavers. Adia ran for the brief opening as hard as she could, slamming one of them into the cell bars. Her hands were too raw to use, so elbows and feet came into play. She smashed in the short one's nose as he dove at her. A jump kick and a broken jaw. A bitten arm and a stomped foot. A knee kicked in the wrong way. It ended in stunbolts and stuncuffs on maximum. Now that her hands and feet were properly restrained...

Adia bolted upright, looking around frantically for a moment before settling back into her seat. After calming her heart rate to something reasonable (a process she had refined to a few deep breaths), she got up and headed for the refresher.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Cizerack curses filled the small cockpit as Nasseeri tried to figure out the gibberish emmanating from the navigational computer.

"That frrrelljing forrrrrrda, DrrrenKassst! Ssshe djid thjisss on purrrpossse, gjivjing me the worrrssst ssshjip at the bassse!"

Clawed fingers savagely punched the coordinates back into the nav'puter, only to be told by a different screen readout that no planet existed there.

With a snarl, the Ciz threw herself down into the pilots chair, her claws digging into the well worn arms and her lips drawn back over bared teeth. How could she make her rendevouz if the ship refused to make the hyperspace jump?

Ears laid flat along her skull as Nasseeri fumed. She had been setup, plain and simple. Noone had known of her departure except for one - the tech she had told the night before over drinks in the bar. Damn the forrrda! Damn them all!

Hera must have learned of her little trip and seized the opportunity to try and rid herself of the Cizerack liason once and for all. There had been other ships in the bay that she could have taken but this one had been specifically set aside for her by the technician she had spoken to.

Nass's temper raged inwardly as she pictured the scenario - the weasely little human tech running to tell DrenKast about the Cizerack's plans and the ShadowFaene owner looping an arm around his greasy shoulders - "Ive got an idea of how to get rid of that thorn in my side..."

It was all so clear, now.

Anger fueled Nasseeri Haalleerraa and once more she stabbed the coordinates into the computer, ready to loose another steaming round of curses and heap them all on the head of Hera DrenKast.

The nav'puter beeped its acceptance in a steady and welcome tone, bringing Nasseeri's open mouth to close with a snap then finally to twist rapturously into a wide smile. Wont Hera be surprised when I make it back to the base? After many long months of snooping and prying, Nass had finally discovered a crack in ShadowFaene's bookkeeping and she was more than eager to help bring the blonde Sith down.

Laughing openly, Nasseeri pulled back on the lever, sending the small craft jumping into deep space and toward her secret meeting with a high ranking Pride member.

She should have rechecked the coordinates.

[Adia Issoris]

Lather, rinse, repeat. Adia splashed water and then soap over her sweaty face. Water was an expensive commodity on starships, but sometimes it was worth it. She stood and stared in the mirror for a moment. Jaw length reddish-copper hair framed high cheekbones, green eyes and a smallish, narrow nose. Her lips were neither full not thin.The most striking thing, though, was her pointed ears. While pointed ears on “humans” was not unheard of, it was very uncommon.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Duro, Umgul, Naboo all were a repeat of Coruscant on a smaller scale. The ship's population diminished slightly each time. The exchange of people and goods for different people and goods was very monotonus. Adia forced awareness of her surroundings, examining the beings and their goods in detail.

Human, male, brown hair, short cropped, light brown eyes with a dash of yellow. Two earings, left ear. 1.7 meters, roughly 72 kilos. Inexpensive clothing, likely from Agamar or Alk'lellish. Good boots...

Mon-Calamari...

Adia profiled everyone in her vision until the pitch of the generators changed subtly.

”Five minutes until hyperspace, please secure your belongings and fasten your seatbelts. This route will include: Sullust, Sulis Van, Bpfaash...” She stared down at the straps and clasps in her hands for a moment, and decided not to buckle up. Instead, she grabbed the sides of her seat while the lights dimmed imperceptibly. There was a brief moment where Newtonian style physics dissapeared. Everything seemed to freeze but her conciousness. Her mind raced at the artificiality of what it was percieving. Only through experince did she keep the panic down. The first time Adia had gone into hyperspace she had slipped into full-blown histeria for an hour. She had done it hundreds of times now, maybe thousands. Each time was a challenge on her sanity.

As quickly as it started, it was over. The universe normalized. Adia let her breath out.

Thirty minutes later, everything went horribly wrong.

[Mirko Spendrim]

At about the same time as Adia was doing her ministrations in the wash room, Mirko was making friends in his usual troublesome manner.

"All's Im sayin is, you dont have to get so agitated.."

Mirko was remaining surprising calm given that he was dangling two feet off the ground, suspended by the scruff of his collar in the enormous hands of an angry Gran.

A gutteral growl of sorts was the returned reply and a tightening of burly hands about skinny neck.

"I didn't know it was your seat, I swear..."

Mirko's eyes swivelled each in different directions seeking aid from someone, anyone, as he waves his arms helplessly in the air. The transport was full of people, but none willing to help.

"...And I admit, the pinching of your companions lekku wasnt the smartest thing for me to do...But a fella gets lonely on Coruscant. Its why Im leavin for a while. A holiday might do me good.."

Mirko's face purplized here now, as the Gran's patience waned.


Didn't this crap-heap ship have security? he floundered vainly.

"Im sorry, really. I am. You wouldn't wanna put me down now would you?"

The Gran obliged by throwing him across the aisle to slam against the wall roughly and Mirko dropped uncerimoniously into an occupied chair. As the female upon who's lap Mirko lighted squeaked in protest, Mirko spared her a friendly smile.

"Hi - Mirko Spendrim, Information Broker." He held out a hand in greeting, which was indignantly ignored.

The Gran, still angry, pulled a blaster, and Mirko cut short the introduction pleasantries, springing from the chair. He ran off down the ailse looking much like a fleeing rat - and felt very much like one.

How he hated public transportation.

[Rick Wright]

There was one thing repeating over and over in Rick Wright's mind as he watched the stars fly by: you can take the boy out of the city, they say, but you can't take the city out of the boy. No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, Coruscant would always be with him. It was in his blood.

Ever since he'd made that costume all those years ago, he'd been bound to it. It was a part of him, but it seemed that he was no longer a part of it. A fall had left Rick's good arm broken, and in a sling for the foreseeable future. In that state, he was useless. Sitting about at home just made him feel even worse about himself and so he had decided it was time for a vacation.

Just like many others, he'd boarded at Coruscant. He held settled into his chair, disturbed only by the jump to hyperspace – and the screw-eyed brokers' antics. It reminded him of the old days, with scores of troops crammed into a tiny space as they were shipped off to some unknown planet. The Republic's elite, commissioned to settle off-world disputes, a task-force to be reckoned with. The seats were just as uncomfortable, and there was that smell of fear lingering in the air – as no one was quite sure whether or not the ship would hold together.

Smiling to himself, he looked down into the satchel in his lap, unzipping it. There wasn't much inside, but the bag bulged with the weight of his shield. He didn't know why he'd brought it and the get-up. Maybe he just felt lost without it. He sighed, removed a book entitled 'The Man Who Fell To Earth' and began to read, unaware of what the future held…

[Serena Laran]

The ship shuddered, and then calmed as the stars settled into the swirls of hyperspace. Laran unbuckled her restraints, and tried to relax.

What are you going to tell the Grand Admiral, then? 'Yes, I'm sorry, but I want to withdraw from your leadership?' Can you plan a mutiny like that? Serena rubbed her forehead, wishing not for the first time that she'd had the guts to bring her ISD to Thyferra.

Too big a show of strength, however. It wouldn't do to scare the Imperial Sovereignty. She just wanted to return to babysitting Carida - like Diktat Viscera had instructed her to. Thanks for the promotion, but no thanks? Lost in her thoughts, Serena began to drift off to sleep.

An hour later, she woke up to find her body in the air, flying forward from her seat. The Fleet Admiral threw her hands up, protecting her face as she slammed into the opposing bulkhead. Falling to the ground, she struggled to her feet and pressed the intercom to the cockpit. "What is going on, Ensign?" Her voice was shaky.

The Pathfinder screeched and yawed desperately to the side. Laran stumbled away from the bulkhead, trying to regain her balance. "Inertial compensators are offline, Admiral!" Jomarr didn't sound too good either. "We hit some sort of uncharted gravity well, or shadow, but it isn't an Interdictor, sir!"

"I'm coming in there." She pulled her way up to the door controls, and they slid open silently, apparently the only thing on the belaugered shuttle that still worked. Arms straining, she hefted her long body into the tiny hall, and pulled herself into the cockpit. The co-pilot was dead, neck twisted in an odd fashion.

Jomarr looked up at her, blood coming from his ears and nose. "Ma'am, I can't get the ship under control. I can't understand the readings -" He was panicking, his skin deathly pale under the bloodstains.

"You're a good pilot, Ensign, pull yourself together." She unbuckled the dead man, and shoved the body to the side, pulling the restraints in around herself and fastening them tightly. "A mass shadow like what yanked us out of hyperspace means there's something here -"

The shuttle was slowly spinning around, and the motion was making her feel sick to her stomach. Jomarr pointed to a starchart that was blinking on and off. "I think we're in a nebula, but our transparisteel got toasted as soon as we were reverted."

Too close to a star? "It'll clear." She sounded calmer than she felt. Not being able to see visually was a huge problem. Specially treated transparisteel darkened when exposed to too bright a light, which was good for protecting pilot's eyes for brief periods of time, but if for some reason it stayed that way... "Look, it's brightening up already."

The shuttle shook violently, and she gasped at the sight outside. Jomarr white-knuckled the yoke, trying to bring the nose of the Pathfinder up. "We're entering atmosphere! Admiral!"

"I see that!" She shouted at him, and toggled the inertial dampers, hoping they'd come back on. "Shields seem to be working..." Oh gods, what about the troopers in the back? Are they even alive?

[Vhiran Crescent]

Vhiran had jumped the ratty old shuttle into hyperspace about 30 minutes ago. Unfortunatly, this thing was dreadfully slow. It would take several days to get to Nar Shadaa. He sighed heavily, he hated that place. He didn't see how anyone could live there, although he had for a few years of his life, months at a time. He was fully aware incase they were being tailed. He watched the radar and other such sensors carefully. But it wasn't long before something started showing up.

"Wierd..." Vhiran said as he punched a few things into the sensors, trying to get finer details. He punched the comm. "Darrian, I'd take a seat somewhere, I think were about to enter a nebula, a bumpy one at that." He didn't really know if it was a nebula, but it was better to say it was than explain it over the comm. He didn't know exactly what it was, but when they entered it, everything went wrong.

They immediatly slammed out of hyperspace, almost ripping the chair off the floor and his eyeballs out their sockets. He groaned, as he almost slammed his head hard into the controls. He looked all over, as he heard the first explosion, to make sure it wasn't in the cockpit. It was probably the hyperdrive rupturing. He quickly scanned his sensors.

"What...?" He just now noticed the planet. "No way!" It had been blanketed by this...cloud...gravity field, whatever it was. It was definatly wierd, as the hull of their "borrowed" shuttle began to crumble. What was going on? Warnings in the cockpit sounded, and redlights flashed.

"I know!" He screamed at the alarms. They were quickly sinking into the atmosphere of the planet. It was completely surrounded in this shroud of...of...this...thing. Systems began to short circuit and the lights and alarms kicked off, reserve power kicked in a few seconds later. He could feel himself toppling, as the ship rolled and began to fall into the atmosphere.

"Oh...sith!!" He yelled, as he quickly calculated their trajectory. At this rate and angle, they would burn up in the atmosphere, and not even have a chance at landing. But there was nothing he could do, all the thrusters were gone, perhaps even exploaded. There HAD to be some auxilairy plating. He wished he had gone over the specs. He hit the anti-gravity control and shot out of his seat, floating out of the cockpit.

"Sollak!" He shouted, floating down the halls, looking for his partner. "We have to find some armor plating or we're going to burn up!" Perhaps Sollak had read over the specs...

[imported_Darriann Sollak]

Darriann was in the guest lounge while Vhiran was piloting. He was playing Sabacc with the droid dealer.

"I so have you beat." Darriann said to the droid.

The droid replied to him, "That's what you think sir."

Vhiran's voice came through the comm "Darriann, I'd take a seat somewhere, I think were about to enter a nebula, a bumpy one at that.".

"Doh, and just when I was about to win. Oh well. Switch off." Darriann said.

The droid clicked off and Darriann buckled up into the soft chair. The ship rumbled then thundered. It became more intense. He could here the hull buckling. He looked out the view port and noticed the plating outside the port turning red hot. Then the ship reverted out of hyperspace. The thunder boomed into the cabin. The impact of the reversion threw Darriann forward, the restraint dug into his underbelly.

"Owe! Damn that hurts!" He yelled, "Vhiran what's going on?"

Suddenly alarms went off throughout the ship and then a few explosions. The artificial gravity went off. Darriann released his harness and looked out the view port again. There it was the planet.

"Emperor's black bones." He said, "Vhiran where are you?"

He kicked off the chair which gave him enough thrust to reach the door. He bumped into it and grabbed the handle. It slowly flew open. He rushed out into the corridor and slammed into the wall. Some tools that were on the ground came up and smacked him in the head.

"Oh. Why am I the one who gets hurt?"

Whack. Up came the chest. He rubbed his face to sooth some of the pain. He saw Vhiran floating his way.

"Look out!" He yelled.

Crash. Vhiran slammed into Darriann's body. Darriann could have sworn he heard a rib crack on that one.

"Gah. That hurt. What in the Galaxy is going on?" Darriann asked.

[Adia Issoris]

Galewind Plains, midway between Et'Un'Wen and Juruffor

Jori stared skyward. A bright streak tore it's way across the sky, but it began to grow. Meteors did occasionally fall, but this one was massive. And it was getting disturbingly close.

"Qax Dren! Would you look at that!" said the wagon master. The six legged Qax beasts stirred in it's harness and snorted.

The streak shot overhead, with a hissing sound following twenty seconds later. A minute later, the ground rumbled, and the wind gusted after. Jori held onto his hat as it whipped. The erk birds chirped shrill and pawed the ground.


Eridu Conners Observatory, Galewarden
Den wondered why he had become an astronomer. Yes, he was good at the maths and physics. Yes, the family had astronomers going back five generations.

It was just so damned boring. Den put his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair when the streak tore across the sky. He jerked forward and typed furiously. Watching the sky had become much less boring.
Sighting: Galewind plains. Object size: Unknown, 1-3 KM? Trajectory: flat. From southwest to northeast. Notes: Object was intact. Evidence of shielding.


Common Transport XNS-723, Balmorra Wind Route XNS15e, Voyage 68E.
Adia felt sick to her stomach when the ship came out of hyperspace. The massive vessel lurched as it plowed through the gaseous nebula. Electricty crackled across the hull, and the lights flickered. Shields came to life.

"I... uh... this is your Captain speaking. We're trying to figure out what happend. Everyone please remain calm and stay seated." Adia white knuckled the sides of her plaststeel steat. The transport had come out of hyperspace an hour too early, but the way the ship lurched wasn't consistent with an Interdictor field, nor would the lights have flickered. There wasn't blaster or ion cannon fire. No, they had come out too close to an interstellar mass.

The hull groaned as Serna Pur's gravity tugged. The huge ship was not made for gravity. It's hull would sag, even with energy reinforcement.

"We're having problems with the main drive right now, but we should be fine, everyone please remain calm."

The Balmorra Wind began to fall.

[Mirko Spendrim]

"........but we should be fine, everyone please remain calm."

"Famous last words" Mirko quipped to the elderly gentleman beside him, and then hunkered down in his seat.

Tightening his lapbelt and hugging the complimentary travel pillow to his chest, the scruffy information broker looked around with a distinctly doubtful expression.

"Bet ya five creds the next words from the captain are, "please assume crash-landing positions"

The older gentleman wimpered and gnawed his knuckles.

Mirko's stomach did a loop-de-loop as the ship surrendered to the pull of gravity and was radically sucked planetward.

"Aw frell, why is it all the goodlooking ones of us die young.."

[Jackson DeWitt]

The next hour progressed slowly. Marcune sat at the helm, keeping systems steady. Jackson shuffled a deck of playing cards, then held them in front of him, face down. He would pause, focus intently, and then flip the top card over...which was followed by a sigh of disappointment each time.

"Seven...clubs."

Ten of hearts.

"Krasst."

Jackson folded the top card to the bottom of the deck, and spent a few moments looking out the viewport.

"You plannin on doing any gambling, Jackson?"

Marcune glanced at the Jedi with curiosity. Color rose to Jackson's face, as he put the cards away.

"No, I'm not much of a gambler, I don't think. Really haven't had enough to wager, so I don't think I'll do that any time soon."

Marcune cracked a smile.

"Good lad. Odd's are all on the house."

Jackson nodded, as he pulled the deck out again.

"So I've noticed."

For a moment, Marcune regarded Jackson, and then he spoke.

"Is that one of them Jedi things?"

Jackson nodded, looking out the viewport, away from Marcune.

"A Jedi is supposed to feel, to sense things. They can reach out and know things that they shouldn't know. I can't really explain it too well."

He fingered at the top card.

"I should be able to do it..."

Marcune completed the thought.

"...but you can't?"

Turning his attention suddenly back to the deck, Jackson draws another card, and then tosses it on his side of the console in defeat.

"I haven't been able to. I just can't get it figured. I know, ain't nothing ever come easy to me, but this just seems cruel. I'm so close to it. I know it."

Marcune was no Jedi, but he could feel what Jackson felt, just from empathy and experience.

"What happens when you guess a card right?"

The Padawan paused, looking to the old spacer.

"What?"

Marcune took the card that Jackson discarded, examining it closely.

"What happens when you guess one right? Is there something gained? Do you become more of a Jedi?"

"I..." Jackson's brow furrowed, and Marcune grinned.

"It's just a game, kid. You ever try it when it matters?"

"Well, no. Not really. I've mainly been practicing my aptitude, trying to improve my training."

The spacer shrugged, and handed Jackson his card back.

"Ah..."

It left Jackson at a loss for words, wondering what he meant. After a while, he shrugged it off, and went back to watching the stars pass by. Until...

"Marcune, are you sure this is the right way to Tattooine?"

The spacer arched an eyebrow.

"Hm? Sure...we're following the star-chart to the letter and..."

Then all Hell broke loose.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Why hadnt she gone into engineering as her father wanted?? Father was an engineer, his father was an engineer and his father was an engineer! Again, Nasseeri tried reversing the engines but it was no good, the ship was caught in what the computer told her was a spacial anomoly.

The ship was going to crash.

Bogdun's Folly was being pulled down, the rate of descent increasing with each passing second. Sporadically, her onboard comp would sputter out readings long enough for her to see the topigraphical layout of the planet below.

Coming to terms with the inevitable and adjusting her mindset, Nass took manual control of the ship, her strong fingers curling around the stick as the navigational computer shorted out, sending a bright wave of sparks throughout the small cockpit.

One particular area of the planet had caught her attention and thats now what she steered for. The stick shuddered in her hand - as did the entire vessel - but she was determined and her Cizerack strength wouldnt be denied. In a slow arc, the ship began to turn until its nose was pointed toward the vast ocean and the mountains.

Now all she had to do was keep level. Nasseeri knew that the ship she was piloting had been used many times on smuggling runs and as such would have excellent sheilding and be double-hulled on the belly. Fangs flashed white as she grinned savagely, her biceps rippling as the Ciz fought the planet's gravity for the right to live.

Down through the clouds the small ship hurtled and very quickly Nass was picking out landmarks, commiting them to memory. A few seconds more and she fired the retro thrusters - not that she really thought it would be of any help - then quickly flicked a switch, cutting off fuel to the engine.

With a bone-jarring, loud screech of metal, Bogdun's Folly made landfall, tearing its' pilot out of her harness and flinging her against the cockpit's windshield.

[Rick Wright]

Old memories flooded back once more. Rick saw himself in a vessel full of troops, going down across a war-torn sky. The sun had been blood red as they had plummeted, all sure they would die that day. Miraculously, the craft's impact had been cushioned and the soldiers managed to pour out with only a few causalities, some bumps and bruises.

The Balmorra Wind was making a similar path downwards, huming and hissing as it's speed increased. Friction, among other things, was burning up the outer-hull of the ship – Rick was sure that his seat, like the outer casing, was sky-rocketing in temperature. All around him, people were ignoring the orders of the ships captain to remain calm. Some had scrambled to their feet, while others had consigned themselves to doom and were kissing their loved ones goodbye.

A rare few were assuming the crash-landing position, which Rick finally slipped into. His whole body was trembling and he felt nauseous, which wasn't helped by the increased turbulence rocking the ship. He pulled his head down against his knees, and prayed silently for himself and for those that would be left behind if something did happen.

All of a sudden, there was a mighty crash. Sparks flew, screams were let out, metal groaned and cracked. Smoke filled the cabin, and for a moment Rick thought he had died, his body was so numb. One of the cabin crew coming through the haze alerted righted him, and helped him to sit up – the humanoid had a bloody head himself, and was still being surprisingly helpful. As Rick sat up and looked around, he saw that some had been knocked unconscious. Others were shaken, but alive. Only one lay dead.

With a deep breath he sat back in his chair and looked out the small window to his side. It had a hairline break, but was still transparent. Outside, there was so much green he could have sworn they'd cut a line right into a jungle. Right out behind the ship, a deep gash had been left smoldering in the earth, scarring back for what seemed like miles…

"Everyone remain calm! Please form an orderly line and exit the ship via the emergency exits here and here!"

[Serena Laran]

The last hour was a blur. The Pathfinder had torn through the atmosphere like an enormous falling star, and the white-faced pilot had struggled to keep the nose of the shuttle up. Serena was pressed into the back of her seat from the speed of their descent, and she found herself absently wondering what exactly the procedure was for things like this.

Things like this didn't happen. Things like this, if they did happen, happened to people who didn't go by the book and who didn't know what they were doing. Serena always went by the book. She was always in control of any given situation. However, as plains passed by far beneath them, Fleet Admiral Laran found herself cut loose from all that was familiar to her.

She was frightened.

"I think I see a coastline!" Jomarr struggled with the yoke, and she noticed how very skinny he was. Just a kid, really, fresh from flight school. The uniform didn't quite fit him right. Then there was the blood on his collar, soaked into the thick grey wool. Against regulations. "I can't keep her in the air any longer! Brace for impact!"

He'd keyed the intercom as he'd shouted the last sentance, and Laran realized that he still hoped there was life in the back compartment of the shuttle. They'd crashed, but the land was marshy, swampy even. Instead of a fireball, there was a splash.

She'd been aware of some scrambling to get out of the restraints, to the back of the shuttle and out into the air they hoped was fresh. Some others had climbed out of after them...four of the six troopers had survived the experience. The last hour had been a bit of a blur. The last hour had taken her completely out of her element, and completely by surprise.

The four stormies were armorless, and out scouting the immediate area while Serena sat on a solid bit of ground...and cried.

[Vhiran Crescent]

His adrenaline was running too much to notice how bad the crash might have hurt.

"We've been forced out of hyperspace in some space anomaly. I've got no control and most of the systems are down. We're about to burn up in the atmosphere of this planet unless we find some extra frelling armor plating! This thing has to have some kind of shields," he screamed at Sollak, hoping he would know where to find them, as they only had a few moments.

[imported_Darriann Sollak]

"No such luck on this ship. It's a passenger ship not much around. I have an idea though give me a sec."

Darriann though as quick as he could and then it came to him.

"This idea might sound crazy but it might just work. The escape pods have good armor. Real good armor. We don't eject in them though. If we did that would lead to us burning up in the atmosphere from this trajectory. If we stay in them while the ship crashes we may just survive." Darriann said, "The escape pods are this way. Now when we get in there, it might get a little rough as gravity comes back so buckle up. Lets get going."

Darriann kicked off the wall and glided down the corridor and around a corner down another corridor to where the escape pods were located. He hit the switch on the panel but then realized the power in this section had shorted out.

"Damn it. Where's the manual release?"

[Adia Issoris]

The engineering section tore from the rest of the ship within two seconds of impact, being disporportionately sized and designed in such a way that it dug into the ground. The air pressure change had sucked out the rear sixth of the passenger cabin. When the ship had crashed, the bottom two decks were shorn off. Those who were not now looked out into the cool night air. Common Transports were deisgned for spaceflight and nothing else. Even at rest, the massive vessel was slowly beginning to collapse under it's own weight. The metals groaned underneath gravity, an unfamiliar force. Adia was on the seventh deck. Those on the third and fourth decks were likely crushed, with the fifth following soon.

Maybe the sixth deck would stand up to the weight, but the Assassin doubted it would last longer than a week. Only the ship's massive shield generators had kept the ship in mostly one piece on impact, absorbing most of the impact's energy. Still, there was a sixty kilometer long gash across the Galewind plains that stopped in this wood. If the pilots were alive Adia wanted to thank them. Everyone on that ship should have been dead.

Despite the ship's moaning metal suggestions otherwise, Adia figured she had enough time to attempt to collect her belongings. Even in the dim emergency lighting, she could see her surroundings as bright and as clear as if she had daylight. Narrowed slits behind reflective silvery wraparounds combed through the strewn about junk. She found her armor and clothes forty meters from her seat, but there was no sign of her Nightstinger or WESTAR-34's case. It was probably somewhere between here and the engineering section.

By now, almost everyone had filtered out of the emergency exits, taking the rope ladder to the ground.

[Rick Wright]

Rick jumped down the last four feet to the ground, landing with a thud. He scooped up his hold all and looked at those who had already left the ship. There was no panic now – only a quiet sense of confusion. It wasn't clear where they were or what they were supposed to do now, and until the cabin crew had all vacated the plane it would remain the same. Wright was having his own personal panic, however, and quickly unzipped his bag to check its contents. His heart was still thumping when he saw the shield and garb was still there thankfully. Explaining that would have been awful.

His legs felt slightly wobbly, and so he decided to sit down. The edge of the cut into the ground made a nice seat, but got him a few odd looks from the wreck-shaken passengers around him. He seemed to be the only one with an air of casuality about him.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

It was the taste of blood that finally roused the Cizerack from her unconcious stupor. Blinking open blood-crusted lashes, Nasseeri ran a shaking hand over her face, further smearing the swath of red which still oozed from a cut that seemed to be on the crown of her head. From the impact of the crash, Nass had been thrown into the viewglass and came to rest in a bit of an upside down position, with her head hanging off the ships' console.

Her vision was blurred and she began to worry about a concussion until she realized that her glasses were off. With a groan, Nasseeri carefully righted herself, sliding her feet to the floor and reaching for the high backrest of the pilots chair in order to steady her rubbery legs.

Taking a step to the side, a small crunch was heard. Lifting her foot, Nasseeri could only gaze with dismay at the broken and twisted remains of her precious eyewear.

Lowering her aching body down into the chair, the female groans as she looks out the glass. How long had she been out? A weak sun had been shining when the Folly had impacted the ground and now...nothing. It was pitch black outside and the Ciz had no way of knowing what the immediate terrain or weather was like.

It was still warm inside the small vessel and Nass didnt want to risk opening the hatch and losing the heat to whatever was outside. The best thing to do right now was to take inventory of the stock on the ship.

Pushing up with her arms, Nasseeri started to rise until the throbbing in her head convinced her otherwise. Settling back in the chair, she lifts cautious fingers to the cut on her head. Instead of coming away wet, there was a stickiness to the touch...it had stopped bleeding and was now drying.

Turning slightly in the seat, Nasseeri got as comfortable as she could and closed her eyes. Sleep would help her system re-adjust to the shocks of her disasterous journey and the coming dawn would hopefully shed new light on her situation.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko broke through a copse of lean, windblown trees that were common to the Galewind plains, and walked back toward the crash site.

One of the first to exit the wreck, Mirko had the instincts of a rat for survival and had beaten a hastey exit as soon as he could force his trembling fingers to unlatch the lapbelt that secured him to his seat. The chance of the ship exploding, or imploding, which ever was the case with such deepspace vehicles, had been high in the brokers estimation and he had the good sense to put distance between himself and impending doom.

And the explosion had come, sure enough - the tail end completely being obliterated in the searing heat of inflamed engine fuel.


At that time, Mirko had been examining a small ring of smooth stones that housed the ashes of an old fire. Not what you'd call a tracker...not by any stretch of the imagination, but it did not take a genious to recognise a campsite that was perhaps a day or two old. Stretching up on his short legs, taking a deep breath of the surprisingly cool air, Mirko suddenly felt his skin creep. Perhaps it was just imagination...probably just a shock reflex from the trauma of the crash and to now find himself all alone. Mirko turned from the old campfire and trudged back to the voices he heard milling around the wreckage.

He looked about for a friend, someone to latch onto that might increase his own chance of surviving this strange place. Most people were ingrossed in their own little groups, joyous that loved ones were still safe, while others knotted in kneeling, sobbing clumps consoling each other with hugs and pats on the backs and words of comfort for companions lost.

Rick Wright seemed an incongruous nonchalance in such a scene - the calm eye in the center of the storm. It came natural that Mirko drifted over to him. Squatting down beside the blonde man, Spendrim gave him a toothy smile.


"Can we say 'slight detour'?"

Swivilling his eyes around, Mirko suddenly stiffened, his twitchy fingers frozen still.

He spied the bounty hunter slash rescuer of Sanis Prent he'd seen a scant month before. The beautiful but very dangerous Adia Bills-Mor (as he later ascertained through no small investigative wileyness)

A small "uh oh"] escaped his lips, which made Rick casually look up and follow the information broker's line of sight in response.

[Adia Issoris]

(OOC, lost the tail section of the craft on impact. Being some sixty kilometers back, unless there was a massive explosion, I don't think anyone would notice.)

Adia carefully scaled the ladder with her metal suitcase in one hand. It was very awkward, but it was likely that her Mistryl armor would come in handy later. There wasn't anything fragile in the case, so she dropped it the last eight meters.

Once on the ground, the first thing she noticed was the intense stink of fear. Hundreds of scared pheremones from dozens of spieces floated in the cool night breeze. It was almost nauseating. The assassin frowned as she scanned the camp. Groups of people huddled together for relief from the cold. Unless they adapted quickly, many would die on the grasses and sparse woods. Her ears perked up and flicked about in a futile attempt to listen for native fauna. She wouldn't be able to learn anything with the mass of people around, but she was too tired to explore. Adia hadn't slept much during the trip—one in her line of work needed to be paranoid about those around her.

One man was a spot of calm in the swell of confusion. Next to him was a ratly looking fellow, who looked familiar, but the assassin couldn't place him. Suitcase back in hand, Adia walked slowly twoard the pair, picking up bits of conversation as she went.

“...Idah, I dunno what we're gonna do. Never been out of the city and...”
“...I always said I wanted a change in my life, but this is a bit much..”
“...I'm scared...”

Adia decided the little girl spoke for everyone. The only people who looked slightly hopeful were a group of farmers, who had decided the soil was good. The squirly guy looked at her rather nervously. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, she looked at Rick for a moment. She had no idea what to say.

“I... uh... hi.”

[Vhiran Crescent]

Vhiran scanned around quickly as the ship shuddered and cringed as it began to fall into the atmosphere of this a certain God forsaken planet. He found it, oddly enough, at his feet. Pulling it he released the doors on the escape pods.

"I hope this works!" He shouted over the hiss of the escaping oxygen. He climbed quickly into his own escape pod and shut the hatch securely, but didn't eject.

The stolen shuttle was nothing more than a burning ball of transparisteel as it spun out of control through the atmosphere. It could not be saved as it plunged deeply into the pits of hell as Lucifers fist. It headed ackwardly towards Arrinor Forest, where certain beings waited their unfortunate demise. In its wake, fell smaller pieces of metal that splintered off the ship as it burned through the atmosphere. Seats, alarms, anything that gravity and force could tear from it. With an earth shattering crash, the ball of flaming metal and steel slammed hard into the ground and roots of Arrinor Forest. The trees acted as somewhat of a wall. Many were toppled over by the sheer force of the shuttle, but it slowed its skid to a stop eventually.

[Rick Wright]

An upward glance and Rick looked to who was addressing him – a wily looking character, halo'd in smoke, slightly eerie in the dim light. He looked up just in time to see the sharp glance towards another approaching figure. The little expression of worry didn't go unnoticed, but Rick couldn't help but wonder what warranted it. The redhead looked just as shaken as everyone else there, despite the strength in her gait. For a moment, his eyes moved down to the suitcase she held, then back up.

"Some ride."

A wheeze of a laugh passed his lips. Humor had no place here, but Rick couldn't help but see the bright side of everything. If you stayed positive, you had a better chance of surviving. Negativity never did anyone any good, his old man always said. Fate might not have dealt him the best hands, but he could make do – his army training would help with that, certainly. He was a resourceful man, and wouldn't be giving up with out a fight.

"I Rick, by the way," he continued, looking between the drastically different pair.

Pulling his jacket more firmly around his body, he added: "I imagine we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on."

[imported_Darriann Sollak]

Darriann tightened his restraints. He felt the ship buckling outside. The ship wasn't going to be in one peace when it hit the ground or operational at least. He passed out before the crash. The impact though jolted him back to consciousness. He opened the hatch and walked into the corridor. Circuitry and cases were all over the floor. He made his way to the hatch of the pod where Vhiran jumped in. He knocked on it.

"We're alive!" He yelled

The hatch slid open. Darriann looked in and saw Vhiran standing there as though nothing had happened.

"Wonder where we are?"

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

What ji wouldnt gjive forrr a sajoi right now, orrr even a rrrat.

Licking the last crumbs from her lips, Nass tossed the small container of emergency rations aside. Thirstily eyeing a water bottle, the Cizerack refrained from popping it open. Best to keep as much of that readily available as possible.

Drawing the back of her hand across her mouth, Nasseeri rechecked the datapad in her hand. Having awoken right before dawn, she immediately set about doing the inventory and was pleased with the results.

Half a dozen ration containers and as many containers of water, a pair of greasy tech overalls and one thin tattered blanket, a pair of gloves, macro-binoculars, one fully charged blaster, one fully charged blaster rifle - minus scope (which she had already decided to leave behind due to her lack of glasses and now poor eyesight), a fire extinguisher, a half empty first-aid kit, a five foot length of heavy gauge chain, assorted mechanic tools (most of which she didnt know how to use) and two bottles of what the regulars back at Poisidens Gate would call 'rockgut' whiskey.

The ships' batteries were still working but for how long, the Ciz had no way of knowing. The screens were spitting jibberish at her and until she made a visual inspection of the outter hull and fuselage, Nasseeri would have to assume the worst.

A weak morning light was now filtering through the cockpit and she moved out of the cargo hold to have a look. The landscape itself was unremarkable but she could pick out what she thought were a few scraggly trees scattered sporadically in the distance off to her right.

To the left of the ship and at a far greater distance were mountains. She knew this from the quick topographal readout the computer had flashed right before the crash. And straight ahead was what she thought was an ocean. It had looked too large to simply be a lake.

Another twenty four hours should be long enough to judge in which direction she would head. If the plains off to her right held any type of grazing animals, then she would stay put. Why run the risk of leaving a ready food supply behind? If not...then it was the ocean and whatever bounty it might contain.

Squaring her shoulders, Nass gave the lump on her head one last rub then strode to the hatch. Best to find out now how badly the ship had been damaged.

[Jackson DeWitt]

"We've been pulled out of hyperspace!" Marcune shook violently in his seat as the ship was buffeted about. The console lights blinked on and off several times, as the elongated strands of hyperspace morphed into the wobbling pinpricks of light. As the ship spun about, a planet was visible in the viewscreen.

"Jackson! The auxilliary power grid...second button from your right!"

The Padawan searched the console as he was shaken around, eventually jamming a finger onto the button.

"I got it!"

The ship lurched, and its course righted itself. The blue planet was now fully in view. Jackson's brow furrowed.

"Where are we?"

Marcune was silent for a few seconds, toiling at his controls.

"Don't know. Star chart doesn't show for these coordinates."

He flipped a switch. Nothing happened, and Marcune flipped it a few more times for emphasis.

"Dammit. Whatever that was, it's completely polarized the hyperdrive. Sublight's out too. I've got orientation thrusters only, and..."

Jackson waited, then spoke. "...and?"

The old spacer looked to Jackson.

"We're in the planet's gravitational field. That gives us two options. We can either stabilize our orbital, and wait for help, or manipulate our trajectory for atmospheric entry."

Marcune flipped a few more switches, and sighed.

"We've got no communications. We've got no sensors. We've got no shields. Our only power is from auxilliary batteries, and that can only sustain our environmental controls for a few days. We're damn lucky to have our retros, because they're set on a hydraulic gimbal. Whatever hit us must have had an ionizing electromagnetic field the size of a quasar. Not even standard circuit shielding can resist that."

The silence was deafening. Jackson struggled to find something to say...a plan to suggest. Anything that could offer Marcune an option he hadn't thought of. Eventually, he relented.

"So we're stuck?"

Marcune nodded.

"The systems are fried. I'd need full replacements. I don't have any."

Jackson looked at the planet beneath them.

"Is the planet habitable?"

Marcune scrutinized the planet from his viewport.

"Without sensors, there's no way to say for sure. But...see those blue patches, and the color of the clouds? That's a sign of water. If there's water, we've got a chance of survival. Course, there may not be any air, and may not be any food, but at least there's water...I think."

Jackson continued looking.

"I think we should go to the planet, Marcune."

The spacer's brow furrowed.

"Jackson, I have no shields. I have no engines. I've got retro-rockets, but I can only move them from the cockpit. I can't fire them. If we keep in orbit, there's a chance a ship will pass by, and we'll be rescued. I can't guarantee that the ship won't be destroyed if we try to land."

The padawan turned to Marcune.

"Can you stabilize orbit, and at the end of a few days, attempt landing if no help comes?"

Marcune looked to his controls. After a few minutes of doing calculations, he shook his head.

"If we wait, there won't be enough power to turn the thrusters." Marcune said darkly. "It's one, or the other."

That comment plunged the pilothouse into uncomfortable silence once again.

[Serena Laran]

Jomarr knelt in front of Serena catching her eyes and holding them in his gaze. "Admiral..."

She wiped her nose and sighed deeply, her tears having dried up several minutes ago. "Yes, Ensign?"

"I have a status report. If now is a good time." His tone was almost insubordinate.

Laran sighed again. "Certainly Ensign, tell me the status of our shuttle. Oh wait, it's crashed. And we don't know what planet we're on."

"Well, there is that." His mouth twitched up in a half smile. "Admiral Laran, the shuttle is largely unharmed. Our shielding held up during the entry to the planet's atmosphere, and the marsh protected our landing to a large degree." The skinny pilot scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Of course, it'll take some heavy machinery to get it out of the water, and until we get it clear of the marsh we won't be able to tell how much damage there is underneath."

"Very well then." Laran stood up, straightened her uniform, and noticed how dirty she was. Dress whites were not ideal for hiking through a marsh, or for crash landings. She hadn't packed any other clothing, relying on her apartment on Thyferra once she reached there. Now she might never reach there.

The Admiral pulled herself together mentally. There are five men here under my command, and it is up to me to make sure we all make it out of here. The dead stormtroopers had been zipped into body containment bags and left inside the shuttle. There was no where to bury them in a marsh.

She waved off the trooper's numbers, and shook her head. "You said there was a town on the coast, so that's where we'll head. And," Laran almost winced as she carefully removed her pips and all Imperial markings from her uniform, "if they're not friendly to Imperials here, I don't want to find out the hard way."

Serena ended up nicknaming the four stormtroopers Tom, Willy, Bert, and Phil. "Let's get going. The faster we get to civilization, the faster we can get away from this planet."

Jomarr simply watched. It was unnerving, the way this kid watched.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Pulling her body up through the hatch, the Ciz took a few moments to take a better look at the surrounding landscape from the top of the ship. It wasnt much different than what she had seen through the cockpit's window but now she could just make out small, broad bushes dotting the ground. Good cover if one was hunting prey.

Jumping down, her clawed feet dug into the soft dirt, which felt moist to the touch. Grass and water equaled red meat in her thinking and fangs bared in a wide smile. Now, she wouldnt have to be so dependent on the water bottles inside the ship - blood from whatever she could kill combined with a small stream would have her sitting pretty.

Running her hand along the hull, it soon became apparent why the ramp wouldnt lower. A deep gouge had been ripped through the bottom of the outter hull, twisting the frame and permantly sealing the ramp shut. An inconveinience to be sure but one Nasseeri wouldnt bemoan.

No fuel had leaked out and once more Haalleerraa counted herself lucky. She rubbed her hands together and looked back out to the vast plains behind her. A couple of hours spent scouting would give her an idea of where to launch her first hunt from and locate any watering holes.

With a nameless tune humming in her throat and a bounce to her step, Nasseeri set out to explore.

[Mirko Spendrim]

"Mirko Spendrim" he introduced with a crisp bow to Rick, "..at your service" adding with a flourish to Adia.

The wily information broker had switched his apprehension for witless charm - a sure recipe, he thought, for success in any perilous situation that involved a dangerous woman - and introduced himself with as much competent flair as he could muster.

From past experience, Bills-Mors was definitely resourceful, and judging from the nonchanlant confidence exuding from the toussle haired blonde standing beside her, Mirko found himself in pretty reassuring company. That was, as long as he could manage to keep himself as a welcome part of the trio.

Smiling with gape-toothed good nature, Spendrim continued conversationally.

"I have met you once before, Madam, but alas the circumstances did not allow for formal introduction." He looked about them, taking in the wreckage and human need around them, he continued, "Seems we might have more time than we need for getting aquainted."

Splitting his eyes to look to both Rick and Adia in question, Mirko cut to the quick of the situation, "Any idea's where we are?"


ooc: sorry bout the tail detail - brain fart.

[Adia Issoris]

Adia shook her head, for a few different reasons. One: she didn't know where they were and, two--she couldn't place Mirko. Their meeting must have been very brief and the circumstances unusual. Adia got a feeling that he had a knack for staying alive, though. Mirko might have some useful skill. Well, beyond looking funny and maintaining bad posture.

"I don't think anyone knows where we are. Some sort of nebula" She said, while she looked up at the night sky. Not many stars, and hints of purples and the occassional flash of electricty through the nebula.

"I'm Adia." She added, after her gaze returned from the sky, and offered her hand to Rick, who shook it. Somewhat hesitantly, she offered her hand to Mirko, who also returned the gesture.

"I haven't slept in thirty-six hours." The assassin yawned. Staying awake much longer would dull her senses. "I'm going to sleep." She opened her suitcase and removed an ultra-thin sleeping bag. Adia pulled her glasses off, put her arm under her head and fell alseep.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko shuffled back in his two-tone leather shoes to give Adia room to stretch out. A quick glance at Rick revealed that while Mirko thought the woman's choice to take rest was a bit extradinary, given the circumstances, he was not about to argue the point.

Others of the stranded party were actually doing similar - the shock of crashing to the ground in a metal shell atlast taking a toll on their physical bodies and expressing itself in severe weariness. A scant few were milling about beyond the borders of the group, tentatively surveying their surroundings. Mirko knew they would find not much more than he had...more small brush and perhaps an old fire pit or two. They'd probably just get lost floundering in the darkness anyway. Getting some sleep and being fresh of mind and body in the morning probably wasnt such a bad idea.

But Mirko had no intention himself of sleeping.

Instead, he took a perch beside Adia's head and just watched his fellow strandee's for a while.

Soon the rythmic breathing of the woman beside him assured Mirko that Adia was sound asleep. Looking over to Rick, he whispered softly..



"I wonder if she's got any thing to eat in that case.."

[Rick Wright]

Rick looked to Mirko, not with anger or accusation, but just to let him to know that he meant what he was about to say,

"If she has, we aren't touching it."

He sat forward and wondered silently if there was any food. It would be wrong of them to take it without asking, but by the time the woman woke up, he was pretty sure he would be hungry enough to drop his manners for a moment. Rick however, like Mirko, had no intention of sleeping. There was no telling what was lurking in the darkness. It could spring out at any minute to pick them off. He'd learnt from experience that these sorts of things always happened when you let your guard down. Somehow, he thought, that this Adia character didn't have heard guard down, even now.

He looked back up. Mirko was still staring at him, expectantly, as if waiting for him to change his mind about the case. Rick smirked. He was a weird one, "What's the deal with her, then? Why are you so scared of her?"

[Adia Issoris]

Adia woke before dawn broke, clocking in about seven hours of sleep. Most of the survivors had succumbed to sleep's grip. Mirko and Rick were still awake, though. Aside from the people, the air smelled good. Most worlds were tainted by industry and towers. This place seemed to be only lightly touched by people.

After she replaced her sleeping bag into her suitcase, she wished for her pack instead. The armor probably wouldn't really do her much beside slow her down slightly, but the Nightstinger and WESTAR would have been useful for shooting game after a few modifications.

That is, if there was game. She looked over at Rick, who seemed to be too alert and calm for someone without a military background of some sort. Or he could be traumatized. Judging from his posture, military was far more likely.

“I'm going to climb the wreckage and check the lay of the land as the sun comes up.” Adia said as she pulled off her cloak.

“And no, I don't have any food. That was in with some of my other luggage.”

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Cupping her hands, Nass dipped them into the stream again, drinking deeply from the cool, sweet and thoroughly fresh water. She couldnt detect a trace of anything manmade or any type of additives. This was pure and had to come straight from the mountains in the distance.

The Cizerack had walked north for one hour and now turned back to the east to explore in that direction. Animal tracks both of small and large game - were plentiful but most were a few days old. She would have to strike when the fire was hot and take down at least two animals whenever they entered this area again.

The stream ran east along a fairly straight line and Nasseeri could still spot tracks on either side of the water. Perhaps the beasts that left their traces of prints and spoor also followed the readily available liquid, never straying too far away from it.

An hour and a half later Nass turned south, disappointed that neither hide nor hair had come into her line of sight or within scent range. Turning back west toward her ship, the felinoid began picking up sticks and dried dung to cache away in the event a fire would be needed. Clouds had started to move in and some were taking on grayish tones, which to her reasoning meant rain.

Breaking into a trot, the Ciz easily covered the remaining distance in no time and was snug back inside the Folly when the first raindrops fell. Reclining in the pilots seat, Nass popped another bite of the e-rations into her mouth as she planned out the next days' exploration. She would head south/south west and continue to 'map' out the area she was in.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko passed the night regaling Rick with tales of his life as an information broker. Well perhaps "regaling" was too strong a word - ehh, it passed the time.

He began his monologue with describing his first encounter with Adia - and how the woman nearly fired him to kingdom-come and back while daring an exiting rescue of the rascal Sanis Prent. Mirko fabricated a few stolen glances between himself and Adia, emphasising the fact that she really checked him out. All completely plausible embellishments, which Mirko was sure Rick took as gospel.

The rest of the time was Mirko trying to get Rick to open up about his own past...easier said than done. So, when atlast Bills-Mors stirred, Mirko sprang to his feet, looking forward to embarking on another adventure with such a captivating creature.

He followed her from his vantage of keeping his two feet on the ground, while she scrambled up the mass of the wreckage. Shading his eyes with one hand as he looked up, keeping her progress, he assured himself, that he wasn't hungry anyway. Not really.

"Ms Bills-Mors - can you see anything from up there?"

His stomach growled and he patted it disconsolatly.

[Vhiran Crescent]

"I dunno but that was one hell of a landing." He slowly climbed out of the escape pod, which was not dislodged from the rest of the -- well -- what was a shuttle. "Probably the best landing I've ever had! Haha. Oooo." He put a hand to his head. He had come out of unconciousness too quickly.

He felt so dizzy that his vision blackened and he fell back down into the escape pod with a certain 'oof!'. As Sollak jumped up to check on him, he was already scrambling back to his feet.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a little dizzy, as usual," Vhiran said as he poked his head out of the opening. Sudenly, out of no where, everything about him froze instinctively except for his eyes. They darted about quickly, looking at his new discovery. All around them were large, spiderlike, creatures. All different in some ways, shape, size, number of legs, they mainly looked like some sort of insect/reptile hybrids. They were surrounded by them.

Vhiran slowly climbed out of his pod and stood on the edge of it, next to Sollak.

"Uhhm...what do you make of this...?" Vhiran said, his hand reaching for the blaster on his hip as a few brave creatures moved closer to them.

[Rick Wright]

Rick shook his head, "Think with your head instead of your stomach, Spendrim."

He stood up, dusted himself off and paced a way towards where Adia had climbed. Looking up into the pale sun, he squinted and shook his head. Somehow, he doubted she would have seen anything that would please the broker. So far as he knew, she was the only one with weapons in the group. Limited ammo meant limited hits – if she was going to kill, she would be killing for herself, he wagered; conserving what resources she had to keep herself alive. Rick couldn't blame her.

"Can you see any settlements?"

[Adia Issoris]

"Just plains and patches of woods." Adia shook her head and sighed.
"I wish I had my blaster rifle, just for the scope,” she gave Rick a brief glance from the corner of her eye, looking for a reaction, “although the optics were probably destroyed on impact." Still, they had an excellent view, and could see for a good ten kilometers where trees and hills didn't interfere.

They stood on the top of the hulk of wreckage that used to be the Common Transport Balmorra Wind, scanning the plains in the breaking dawn. The assassin sniffed—there were faint animal scents, most smelled unfamiliar. Some smelled edible.

“I smell something that could be edible.” She was about to climb down the ladder but stopped, spying something in the southwest.

“Rick?” Adia said to grab his attention as was climbing back up.

“Look.” She pointed. In the distance, on the horizon, was a tiny dot coming down a hill.

“Looks like a transport of some sort.”

(OOC: this would be the slave caravan.)

[Mirko Spendrim]

The announcement caused no small stir among the general strandee populace.


Mirko, for his part, was at once fearfully hopefull, but more fearful than hopeful - which expressed itself in moderate agitation causing him to turn in ineffective circles where he stood.


"I wonder if they are friendly? What if they're not? What if they kill us all?"

The last he said a little too loud and the level of excitement in the camp rippled out like a water drop in a lake, causing a dismayed buzz of expressed opinions amongst the little groups.

Mirko twisted his fingers in his hands, willing Adia to come back down quickly and for her and Rick to tell him what to do.

He thought about hiding - just till they knew for sure what this new development would mean.

Yes hiding was a good idea.

[Rick Wright]

"Looks like someone has noticed our arrival," Rick murmured, looking away from the landscape to the group down below. No small amount of division had been caused by the mention of a transport coming. Some thought it was a sign of salvation, that they would be off this rock soon, while others – Mirko included – worried. Rick wasn't sure which to do. It was best to wait until whoever it was arrived.

"They're all looking to us for direction," he said, quietly, "expecting us to give them orders, show them the way."

Turning, and folding his arms over his chest, he said rather loudly,

"I think we should be on guard, just incase. We don't want to look like dupes."

[Adia Issoris]

"Aye, I agree. They're a few hours away, still." She said, somewhat loudly also. Even to Adia's exceptional eyesight, they were little more than dots on the horizon.

"Rick, I'm not a leader. At most I'm a teacher, on a good day." She said quietly. "I work alone usually." The former soldier merely nodded. The assassin looked about the crowd spread below them. From the top of the wreckage, six stories up, they had an excellent view.

“I really wish Mirko had kept his mouth shut.” Adia hissed between her teeth. The people below seemed to scurry nervously.

-----
The caravan walked in the scrape the great ship from the sky had left behind. It had scarred the plains for many clicks, but the ground had cooled and was smoother than the surrounding terrain.

“S'unnatural. I don'ts like its.” The lead wagon driver said for the second time in two hours.
“Its from the ship, you fool. The Fall.” The slavemaster saw gold. If there were survivors, they would be the best of the lot. People with unbroken spirits, but scared. Except for a select few, he would dump the caged ones.
“Yah, but I don'ts like its.”
“I don't care, just drive the wagon.”
“Yessir.yehbastard”

Jori didn't like it either. Whatever it was had been large, to leave a path this big. It could have been a military transport of some sort. In which case, they were all dead.

Still, he had been well paid to escort this caravan, and he needed to return to Et'Un'Wen to chalk up completed bounties.

To the credit of the other mercenaries, they also looked nervous.

-------
Galewarden
The Mountain Hawk was on the march. Den Connors was finally happy. Seated on an Erk bird, he was with the 2nd Rangers. Den loved to ride, but was usually asleep during the mornings, and he rarely got to do more than visit the Erk aviary before heading up to the Observitory. Still, he had been insistent on riding lessons when he was younger, and rode whenever he got a free moment.

The friendlier rangers laughed at their comrade's suprise of Den's riding ability. When Den was younger, he had fought his family to be aprenticed in the ranger corps, but his mother and father had insisted he maintain the family tradition, since he was an only child. The thought of the Connors not having an astronomer in the Galewarden observitory for the first time in 400 years was jolting.

“Well Den, looks like you're getting your way for a change.” Den smiled as he rode up next to his friend, Ranger Reffor Husson. Reffor grinned back.

“Told ya getting up an hour early was worth it.”

Den just grinned back, and laughed when he looked back at Astronomer Vaylin who was strugging to stay on his bird.

“Vaylin! Yurrik is the friendliest Erk in Galewarden!” Den said through is laughter.

“Blasted thing keeps rocking!”

Reffor failed to keep a straight face, but managed not to laugh. The rangers finally tied him to the bird, and the party got underway. It was a three day journey to the crash site, according to the astronomer's calculations. With 20 of the better Rangers of the Galewarden watch, he didn't think much could go wrong.

----
Adia and Rick stared at the caravan. Six wagons, pulled by massive six legged reptiles. Men mounted on birds. One riding somewhat seperately.

Rick's vision wasn't quite as keen as hers, so he listented intently as the assassin whispered details.

“Fifteen mounted riders on birds. Six rollers towed by the reptiles. One driver each, with One or two in the back. Looks like most have swords. One has blasters of some sort. No blaster rifles. Three aren't riding so well. The one in the hat with the blasters is dangerous. They all look rough though.

“I doubt most anyone else is armed. Look...” Adia reached down and pulled her holdout blaster out of her boot.
“I'm better with a vibroblade than a blaster. You look like you've used one before.”

[Mirko Spendrim]

Instead of taking hold of the blaster, Rick's hand was seized pre-emptively by Mirko and latched onto as one would cling to a life-rope. Another hand grappled and struggled to grab onto Rick's shirtfront.

Having struggled up to where Adia and Rick were, the last few steps were doozies and the determined, if frightfully unco-ordinated Information Broker, had slipped in his footing and almost slid back off the smooth surface of the ships hulk. If not for Rick's sturdy frame, and Adia's timely, if not grudging, assistance, Mirko would have fallen six stories to the ground.

Clambering up at last beside them, uttering his thanks, Rick and Adia resumed their low discussion, the former casting not a few glares and "wth" looks his way.

Chagrinned, Mirko sat in silence, piecing together what he could of what he'd missed in the conversation and looking with ever-increasing apprehension toward the caravan moving toward them.

He craned his head around Rick to look at Adia.

"I-er- I dont got a gun. You got any more guns there Adia?"

Turning back, Mirko squinted his eyes to little slits as he stared forward. His question, when it came, was unsure and timidly speculative.

"What...do you think they have in those wagons...?"

[Adia Issoris]

"Its amazing you haven't died yet." She scowled at Mirko. “And no, this is my holdout blaster. Everything else slid out of the ship.” Adia finished handing the small but leathal weapon to Rick.

“Besides, with your coordination, you'd more likely shoot me, Rick, or yourself.”

In her mind, Adia was dangling Mirko off the edge of the ship, and enjoying it thoroughly. Her daydream was interrupted, though.

"What...do you think they have in those wagons...?" Mirko asked. Adia frowned.

“I don't know, Mirko. Why don't you walk over and ask them?”

[Rick Wright]

Rick looked over the weapon carefully, lifting it and training it on the ground for a moment, just to get a feel of it. When he looked down, Mirko was looking anxiously at him. He glanced across to Adia and, holstering the weapon in his belt, smirked slightly. "Well, we're going to have to speak with them eventually. It might as well be honestly and openly. The three of us can wait for them to get here. If they pull anything, we're armed, so it'll be alright."

Looking at Mirko, he saw nothing but disbelief and hesitation, "Trust me."

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Cocking her head to one side, Nass pondered the flashing light. It seemed to be working, but she couldnt tell for sure. If the electronics of the ship were still functioning properly, then hopefully someone would pick up on the distress signal that was now silently being sent out into space.

Three days had come and gone with nothing exceptional happening, aside from further explorations. Today was going to be different. The wind was carrying the scent of approaching prey through the open hatch and Nasseeri was eager for fresh meat.

With a final glance at the bliping light, the Cizerack shrugs off her jacket and tucks a knife between her teeth as she climbs out on top of the ship. Testing the wind, she leaps down and jogs off in a southerly direction. Already she knew exactly where to hide and spring her trap from. This was going to be a good day, indeed.

If only it had turned out the way she had planned. Nasseeri's mind had been so tuned to the hunt that she hadnt paid attention to the minor changes to the area she had staked out.

From her first explorations, the Ciz had chosen an excellent place from which to ambush anything that came to a small stream to drink. Two small, low bushes had grown together offering good coverage and this is where Nass had crouched down with the intentions of making a kill. It was an error that cost her dearly.

The 'ground' was jerked out from under her feet and thick roping ensnared her lower half as the net was drawn tight. From beneath two small but deep mounds of dirt, four men emerged from the pits with clubs in hand. As quick as the Cizerack was, Nasseeri wasnt fast enough to dodge all the blows that were raining down on her, though none of the males were left unscathed from her raking claws.

Unwrapping the ropes curled around their waists, the four finally managed to completely restrain the snarling, raging female. In low voices, they discussed what to do with her - would they get a better price from this unusual creature if they sold her to the arena as a fighter or would a transaction in the private sector line their pockets with more silver?

One of the men walked up to her and leaning down, smashed a large, beefy fist twice against her head. Lights flashed behind her eyes as Nasseeri faded into unconsciousness, her fate and future undetermined

[Adia Issoris]

Jori raised any eyebrow as they crested the hill. Three distantant figures stood between them and the huge wrecked ship. Some of the other mercenaries whistled apreciatively at the size of the downed spacecraft. Making sure his hat was secure, he urged his Erk bird to the top of the gash. Jori tended to ride seperately anyway, so this drew no special attention.

Hopefully there was no ambush, and this was a civilian or a cargo transport. Jori didn't really care one way or the other, he just didn't want to die. Not that would be a big deal. He wasn't afraid of dying. It would just be rather inconvient. The mercenary held onto his hat when the wind whipped up. The stillness dawn brought was wearing down, and soon the Galewinds would bring the winds to force again.

Instead of vauge details, he could now see the welcoming party clearly. One red head with odd eyewear. Chin-shoulder length red hair. Much shorter than the dark haired guy in the middle. Those two had an intense bearing of people who had seen combat. The odd looking guy on the left looked desperate to run, aside from being ugly.

The wagon train stopped at twenty meters. Jori wished he could see the redhead's eyes. Her body betrayed nothing.

For a long minute, both sides stared at each other.

“Ah, hello offworlders!” The slave master began.

---

Adia's sense of smell was on overdrive. A gust of wind carried the scent of dozens of humans and zebrak. An ithorian or two.

“There are people in those wagons.” She muttered to Rick through barely moving lips.

[imported_Darriann Sollak]

Sollak looked at the insects. They reminded him somewhat of Vratix that lived on Thyferra.

"I'm don't think they'll attack. They seem curious." He said.

Sollak looked around.He saw a few branches that led to the forest floor. He wasn't sure if what down there might be worse then what was up here, but he figured from there they'd be able to find a way out.

"See down there. The branches. If we can make it to them I think we can climb down."

One of the creatures moved closer to Sollak and Vhiran. Sollak slowly grabbed his blaster out of it's holster. Cautiously he moved toward the branches. The leaves rustled as he moved across the canopy.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko waved to the strangers with a cheery "hello, how are ya" as he hung back close to Rick and Adia.

Tipping his head left to right, he watched in curiosity as the large birds and their riders flanked them.

He had not heard Adia's whispered comment to Rick, but in spite of that, his own misgivings were already causing his stomach to flip-flop with nerves.

He smiled and shuffled nervously under the scruitiny of the lead rider, the man's calculating stare making him feel like a worm wriggling on a line and that somehow Mirko should apologise for breathing.

He murmered the old, but true cliche to Rick beside him.


"I um..got a bad feeling about this"

[Rick Wright]

As a Coruscanti, it would have been acceptable for Rick to carry himself with arrogance, but his manner of greeting the natives was anything but this. He gave a two-fingered salute, that marked him immeadiately albeit subtly as a military man, and smiled a broad heavy smile.

"Hello there," he said, subconsiously wishing he had a hat to tip.

"As you can see, we're in a bit of a bad spot... something pulled us down," he continued, watching the expressions of the wagon-drivers for any flicker of recognition and knowing. Perhaps this was a regular thing, for ships to be wrenched out of the sky. Who knew?

[Serena Laran]

Et'Un'Wen

C2-P0 was in dire need of an oil bath and perhaps an entire memory wipe. It was old...and it knew it was obsolete. It had to be, after so many years. Burga the Hutt kept him because there were no other operational protocol droids in the entire city. There just wasn't the technology to keep them from rusting out, or to keep their circuits fresh. So, as droids went, Toopio was mean, and more than a little senile.

It tended to start swearing in languages no one knew, due to degredation of one or two primary circuits. Burga generally guffawed when these outbursts took place. But right now, when he was discussing business with his offspring, it wasn't a welcome distraction. Tiny arms waved in frustration, and a Zabrak guard hustled the droid out of the audience chamber.

Boonta, the younger Hutt, shoved a salamander into his gaping mouth. "Parent," he said in Hutteese, "Last night was of course the first of Ships Fall. One of the crashes was very close to us, only about a two day journey east. You know as well as I do that the other clans will already be trying to salvage the wreck -"

Burga smoked his hooka, calmer now that the disturbance that was Toopio was removed. One small hand stroked the shoulder of a pink-skinned Twi'lek dancer as she lay against his enormous belly. He grunted at the mention of the other clans, staring at his offspring through half lidded eyes. "That is why I sent a retrieval party last night, at the first sign of the shooting stars. Ships that crash into the swamps do not have as much damage as those the Galewardens, or the Imp will pick up."

At the mention of the Imp, Boonta swore mightily, but offered no further conversation. Burga sat back on his dias, smoking. The other clans would plot and scheme, but he would be the first Hutt to get this wreck. And his mechanics would soon complete their project. Everyone, including the Imp, would know that Burga the Hutt was the greatest being on the planet. Or, at the very least, the most clever.

***

East of Et'Un'Wen, on the Storm Coast

Serena slogged through the marsh behind Jomarr, her once white uniform now a lovely shade of grey-green. Her long hair had long escaped from the regulation-grade uptwist she usually had it pinned as, and she angrily pushed its sodden tresses out of her eyes. A storm had broken over them, drenching the entire party with gallons of water. Two troopers, both shaved heads glistening in the downpour, were scouting out their path. The remaining two, Phil and Willy, stayed by the Admiral and the Ensign, weaponless, but nonetheless managing to look lethal.

Admiral Laran tripped on a hummock, and fell, scraping her hands on a hidden rock. We're hiking through a swamp in the middle of a monsoon, and I fall on the only rock for miles. She sighed, and allowed Jomarr to help her to her feet. When she got to her feet, Willy was having a conversation with Bert, one of the advanced scouts.

Jomarr made his way over to them, and then Tom showed up and all five men came over to her. "We've got company coming. Since we sort of blend in with the swamp, they haven't spotted us yet, but ...Bert said that they look like scavengers, not a welcome committee."

Tom had a gruff voice, one that was barely used. "Weequays and Gamorreans."

Serena looked at Jomarr, and then back at the four troopers. "Then I suggest we find a way to hide." That hopefully doesn't involve being belly down in the muck.

[Vhiran Crescent]

"Yea, good idea," He said as he made his way over to the branches, "Just...no sudden moves."

After Sollak, he made his way down the tree and to the forest floor where the large insects watched in curiousity. One began to get a little to brave and stepped alot closer to them, within arms reach. Vhiran quickly drew a flare from his pack and lit it, startling all the creatures. The one nearest to them almost tripped over itself as it scrambled backwards, trying to get out of the way. The light from the flare lit up the area around them, perhaps temporarily blinding a few of the creatures.

"Ok..." he said with a breath, "lets get out of here before we make our calculations..." He pointed up the bank of a small hill and began heading to it. The whole thing was covered in trees but it would perhaps provide some safety for the moment.

When they arrived, Vhiran Knelt down in the grass and began to dig up some of the grass to reveal the soft dirt and placed the flare in the ground beside them.

"Alright. We came landing in from the south..." Vhiran began tracing a trail with his finger that ended with an X. "And here we are now. I pulled up a map of the place where I figured we'd land right before we went down, and if I remember correctly..." He placed a dot in the dirt. "There is a settlement right there."

"So," he said standing up, trying to get his bearings. "We need to head..." he pointed to the north west. "That way. Right?"

[imported_Darriann Sollak]

"Right. So I'm gonna a guess it'll be a few days before we reach it. Unless we find a speeder or something." Darriann said looking in the direction Vhiran had pointed.

Suddenly he heard a branch snap behind them. Darriann looked up to see an insectoid looking at them. It came closer and made some clicking noises as if it were trying to communicate. Sollak didn't understand it but he thought it was trying to ask something.

He looked back to Vhiran. "I think it wants to know what were doing here?"

[Adia Issoris]

Adia gaze narrowed as the scents grew stronger.

"You seem to have unusual cargo, sirs."

"Aye." The slave master dismounted the wagon, sizing up Rick, Adia and Mirko as he neared them. From his perspective, Rick and Adia looked to be excellent stock. Both were in excellent physical shape and visually pleasing. Adia's pointed ears were exotic. She would fetch an exorbinate price. Mirko looked rather scrawny and mishappen. At best, he would make good swamp screamer fodder. Definately not worth the food to feed him.

Confident, the slaver turned his ring behind his back and dipped the tip in the Ellina flower's milk. This would be simple.

Adia glared the stout, somewhat short man approaching them. He had rough, callused hands, short, thick fingers and a full brown beard that was begging to salt and pepper. His heavy brow shaded cold grey eyes, and Adia broke his fingers as he offered his hand.

The slaver found himself on his knees.

"SLAVER!" The assassin plunged her vibroblade through his back, twisted, and pulled it free. She had gone from the kidneys into his stomach. Eventually the stomach's acid would begin to chew at his other internal organs, if he didn't die from blood loss first. It would be painful and slow.

Adia rushed the nearest rider, and snatched the reigns from his hand with a leap. She yanked the Erk's head down, and let go of the reigns. The bird's head sprung up, and threw the mercenary free. She sliced his throat open before he hit the ground.

[Mirko Spendrim]

"Vaders Nightgown!"

Mirko had jumped back as Adia's savage actions shocked and startled him. Standing now, stricken to his spot, he watched mortified as blood sprayed with astounding velocity from the downed rider's throat as Adia crisply sliced him through with her blade.

The scent of fresh blood panicked the Erk birds, and their mounts struggled to keep the creatures from bolting beneath them, while wrestling to train their weapons onto the petite Assassin.

Shots rang out, and two more riders dropped from their beasts. It must have been Rick. Had to be, because it wasn't Mirko that shot them. Apart from not having a blaster - which again, he sorely regretted, but both his hands had wrapped about his own head for protection. Had he been a tortise, he would have yanked his neck down into his shirt. Nature lacked forsesight sometimes, he mused abstractedly.

The next seemed to happen in slow motion, though Mirko knew it must have been only seconds.

Adia was atop one of the riderless Erks, slapping it with the reigns and glavanising it into a gallop. Thudding up along side Mirko came Rick, kicking up a hail of choking dust and who's strong arm reached down to pull the shrinking Information Broker up onto the bird with him.

Landing with an unfortunate thump against the rise of the saddle, Mirko squeaked a breathless thanks and buried his head against the solid wall of protection that was Ricks back.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

The rough jarring ride across the hind quarters of a loadbeast and the subsequent dumping of her limp form into a cell had gone unnoticed by the unconcious Cizerack. It was only when her captors turned an icy stream of water on Nasseeri, did she awaken.

Leaping straight up, her strong claws embedded themselves in the wooden ceiling of her cell and from this vantage point she barred her teeth, hissing her displeasure.

"She didnt be likin' tha' none, did she?"

With a harsh laugh, the hose bearer continued chasing Nass around the tiny, wooden holding cell until he was satisfied that all the dirt she had accumulated during the scuffle to trap her had been sluiced off down the crude drain.

"Youre gonna have to be gettin' them clothes off'n her 'for too long, Kenst. Tis gonna be cool t'night an' we don' want our profits up an' dyin' on us, now. One o' you boys git in ther' an' strip her down."

"You strip 'er down an' I'll git 'er dried off, Stilts."

Nasseeri crouched down, her tail lashing angrily back and forth as she waited to see which male was stupid enough to enter this small area with her. The man with hose - and beefy fists, Nass noted - gave another rough laugh and sneered at his companions.

"You two jes stan' back and watch how its done."

Kenst made a production of kicking the hose aside and rolling up his sleeves as he approached the thick wooden door of her cell. Digging her nails into the dirt floor for purchase from which to spring, Nass followed his every movement, then let out a yelp as something sharp jabbed at her upper thigh.

Raucous laughter erupted from the throats of the men as they watched the Cizerack's surprised expression. While Kenst had caught and held her attention, Stilts had moved to the far side of her cell and pierced her skin with a small piece of metal.

Nasseeri's disbelief at being tricked yet again began to fade as the tranquilizer took hold and worked its way through her system. A few moments later, she keeled over on the dirt floor as the sound of her door opening and their laughter blurred together.

"Why don' the two of you tranq 'em first 'for hosin' 'em down?"

" 'cause me an' Kenst like to see 'em jump aroun' an' squeal."

Kenst grabbed the slumbering Cizerack by the collar of her jacket and dragged her out of the holding cell.

"A'right gents, lets see wha' shes hidin' 'neath these clothes."

[Rick Wright]

In the process of culling the slavers, they had attracted a fair bit of attention. As the two riders reigned their mounts to a halt, looking to one another, faces were emerging around them, the curious faces of those who had wondered were their so-called self-proclaimed leader-figures had gone. Some looked terrified. A few younger humanoids looked awed at the sight.

With his ride rearing a little beneath him, Rick turned to look at them all for a brief moment before handing Mirko the reigns and swinging himself down onto the dusty ground. Rick paced around one of the fallen bodies, convulsing and spluttered, and towards the wagon. It'd taken a good beating when the beasts pulling it panicked in the face of an attack.

"Anyone alive in there?" Rick called out, training his blaster on the lock keeping the backdoors of the coach closed and blowing it off with a squeeze of the trigger.

[Adia Issoris]

Adia swung from the running bird to the top of one of the wagons. She landed, rolled, and leapt back off, taking down another one of the sword bearing mercenaies. The count was now down to eleven to three, excluding two of the dead wagon drivers.

Two blaster shots indicated Rick likely felled another. The assassin darted back around the wagon, where she heard the footfalls of an Erk bird.

BANG Adia was lifted off of her feet by the slug, and hit the ground like a sack of flour. A trail of blood began to trickle from her forehead.

Jori spurred the Erk on, looking for the other two.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Rick's blast shot the lock off alright, and sent the Erk bird off again at a startled mad dash. Mirko fought mightily to stay seated, the reigns that had been held loosly in his hands jerked out of them by the Bird's erratic flight.

Mirko wailed in misery as all about him the world had gone mad. He glimpsed Adia at one point, but she was riding the other way, arm waving in the air like she was some kind of cowboy.

Spendrim was beginning to feel ill, his stomach lurching.

And then things got worse.

Some misaimed laser fire took his Erk bird's head clean off. Instead of the bird dropping into a lifeless heap, the gangly creature seemed to speed up. And if Mirko thought the birds path was eratic before, he had been seriously misguided. All but running in circles, Mirko and his headless mount careened left, then jerked back right, running willy nilly into and out of the middle of the whole frelled-up battle. Blaster fire zung by his head, bodies were trampled underfoot, until Mirko could hold himself aboard no longer. With defeated resignation he released his deathshold grip on the saddle and simply slid off.

He bumped a good two, three times along the ground before finally rolling to a stop in a cloud of dust. Lying prone, his curly-topped head flat against the dirt, Mirko rolled his eyes about.

There was Rick, freeing the slaves from one of the wagons. Good ol' Rick. Beyond him panicked survivors of the crash were being run aground. Aida was...where was Aida?

Twisting his head from side to side and inching forward much like a crab on a beach trying desparately not to be picked off by maurauding gulls, Mirko sought for Bills Mors.

It was the shock of her redhair that he caught sight of first. Then the slow spreading red puddle that was soaking it to a sticky mass.

Quickening his pace, looking more like a fightened crustacean than ever, Mirko closed the distance to Adia. He scrambled underneath a cart that was to the left of Adia, and using it as cover, he extended himself along the ground and grabbed hold of Adia's boots. Mirko pulled her to him along the ground to hide her under the cart.

Craddling her head against his chest, Mirko's face blanched white as he glanced at her wound. His voice thick with panic, he screamed helplessly from beneath the wagon.

'RICK! RIIIIICK!"

[Rick Wright]

It was a miniature maelstrom. The prisoners were out, and either making for cover or joining in the effort to exact revenge upon those who had enslaved them - one zabrak in particular was delivering blow after blow to his captor, and was snapped out of his enraged intoxication only by a stray shot from someone's blaster. Rick ushered him on towards where the crowd from the crash were, as a whole, cowering.

He himself had gotten so caught up in his heroics that he'd lost track of where his counterparts were. Ducking to avoid a rogue bolt, he found he didn't need to look for Mirko - he could hear him. Following the sound, he soon came to realise why it was that the wry man sounded so terrified. Adia was unconsious. The vibroblade was nestled in her limp hand still.

"You need to get her out of here, back to the ship," Rick decided immeadiately, sure that the escaped prisoners would provide cover enough for her to make a silent retreat.

"I need you to get me something, from my bag. There's a shield in there, attached to a glove. Get it. Quickly," he gave Mirko a look with his eyes that suggested utmost urgency, though didn't hold it for long - he had to turn to knock back a badly placed punch that one of the dismounted wagon-riders had decided to throw.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko had intended to clairfy with Rick which of the two were the more urgent. Getting Aida to the ship, or getting the sheild to Rick?

But Rick was otherwise occupied, and the decision was left to Mirko.

Mirko looked at Adia, her head lolling to one side, and then peered out from beneath the wagon at the mayhem rushing by. He thought Rick out of his mind if he thought Mirko could clear that distance on his own, let alone carrying the unconscious Bills-Mors over his shoulder. Maybe Rick could. But Rick was Mr. Military. And was trained. And had muscles. And had a blaster, if you please.

He delayed momentarily, patting Adia's face trying to rouse her - hoping she would wake up and solve the dilema. But she didnt, and Rick, annoyingly enough, was still occupied fighting of attackers.

Do the easy one first.

That was Mirko's reasoning.

And that was why both Rick and Adia were held at blaster point by Jori and his remaining men when Mirko came running back, out of breath and sweating like a horse, from the ship - Rick's sheild and glove in hand.

[Adia Issoris]

Jori's twin slugthrowers were trained on Rick's head, and Rick's hands were on his head. Adia remained still. The remaining mercenaries were circled around with their swords drawn. Powder slugthrowers were better reserved for plains tribesmen.

The gunslinger's wrist twitched ever so slightly, and then there was a supersonic crack. Mirko found himself sprawled on the ground, the shield somewhere near. Unforunately for the information broker, his plan of playing dead failed. Jori knew exactly what he was shooting for. With a motion of his head, a pair of mercenaries retrieved the small, dazed man. Mirko noted, however, that some color had returned to Adia's face, and the bleeding had mostly stopped.

“Well, I suppose I will shall them for the trouble they've caused. Tie the men up.” Jori's voice was quiet and cold. The other men didn't argue. After all, the Gunslinger was a remorseless killer, and responsible to no one.

While the attention was focused on Rick and Mirko's bindings, Adia flashed up to her feet, and leapt at Jori. He subtly nudged his mount, which gracefully kicked her across the jaw. She went up about ten feet, and then crashed to the ground, landing on her head and shoulder. Her jaw looked dislocated, but it should have been shattered.

“Now tie the woman up.”

Within fifteen minutes, they were making a good gallop for Et'Un'Wen. Rick and Mirko were tied firmly across the backs of seperate Erk birds, led by two of the more skilled mercenaries. Jori himself led the one carrying Adia. Underneath his hat, the devil grinned.

[Bastian Avante]

A masculine yet manicured hand fiddled with a tiny flint box. Blue eyes glanced here and there as he was led down to the one holding cell that held the object that piqued his interest.

"Here she is sir. All cleaned and ready to go at your discretion."

He sttod there in silence and gazed upon the unique and exotic creature. His eyes averted to the man next to him and he pocketed the flint box in his coat. Eyes going back to the sleeping female, he spoke softly.

"Make arrangements, what ever they ask for.....make it so."

"Yes sir, right away."

As the man left, Bastian stepped closer to the cell where the drugged Cizerack slumbered and crouched to get a better look. He slowly reached in through the bars and lightly touched her.

Then he brought his arm back and brought that hand up to place upon his chin in thought. She would bring a new swing into his Stables. She was the first of her kind he had purchased, and from what he read about them...She would make an excellent warrior for the pits.

His winning would improve, he had just gotten his "ace in the hole". A wonderful business transaction.

He stood up when the man returned.

"It's done sir."

He brandished his flint box once more and flipped it between his fingers as he gestured to the man as he himself turned away from the cell door to step a few feet further back.

"Wake her up. Then leave us alone to talk ."

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

A long wooden pole with a slightly blunted end poked through the wooden bars, prodding the sleeping Cizerack to wakefulness.

One blue eye slit open and came to rest on the well dressed male now regarding her from a safe distance outside the holding cell.

Curling her upper lip in disdain, Nasseeri dismissed him as easily as she had all the others who came to stare and ogle the strangely striped creature.

"Frrrell off, forrrrrrda."

[Bastian Avante]

His own expressionless face stared back at her. Not turning away, not averting his eyes...but staring directly at her.

Fiesty...A good trait in a fighter. He slowly nodded to himself as he stepped near her cell door again.

" There are a few things you must know, things that will help you. Mainly against me."

It was the way he spoke that commanded attention and gave off the aura of him being a no nonsense kind of guy. His face told her he was not above harming her if she didnt listen.

"First off, you belong to me now. I am the master here. Do as I say and everything you want or need will be your's. Defy me, and my wrath is what you'll receive."

He stood there flipping the flint box between his fingers.

"Your name....what is it? Or shall I give you one?"

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Nass launched herself at the rough slats of her cage, her fanged snarl aimed only at the brazen fool who thought he could own her.

Kenst slapped the wooden pole against the bars, hoping to smash the female's fingers with it. When Nasseeri proved too quick, he then drove the pole in through one of the openings.

"Get back ya beast! Back afor I knock - "

The large man suddenly stopped as the pole was wrested easily from his hands. Now in possession of it, Avante spun it expertly in his hand before hooking Kenst's legs out from under him with it.

"Do not assume again to harm anything that belongs to me."

It was another battle to be fought, this 'you belong to me' situation but for the moment, Nass was satisfied to gloat at the stupified expression on Kenst's face.

[Bastian Avante]

With the big man on his rump, Bastian pocketed the flint box and tucked the pole under his right arm. Gesturing to the cell door, he casually stepped up to it.

"Open it."

At the expression on the man's face Bastian glared at him.

"I said OPEN IT!"

He go tup quickly than expected and did as he was told. Bastian kept his eyes on the feline humanoid as he stepped inside and held the staff with both hands.

He now stood across from her and showed no fear what so ever.

"Now....I will only ask you once more.....what, is your name?"

He was prepared should she try to go after him, he had culled a few more ferocious beasts he had purchased before as fighters....one he had to kill himself due to it not obeying.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

This hjumann was either brave or more stupid than he looked. Nass gave a shrug. Knowing her name would give him no power of her, she gave it to him - what harm could it do? It was worth the price of watching Kenst fall on his backside.

"My name jisss Nasssssseerrri Haalleerrrrrraa. ji am a full blooded Cizerrrack female. Arrre jyou sssatjisssfjied, now?"

Fearlessly, she faced this newcomer. Many before him had thought that they too would be able to tame a Cizerack. Most had died trying.

[Bastian Avante]

He glared back at her, this one would need to know her place. She was a little too much of attitude. He took a breath and seemed to relax.

"I'll be satisfied when you learn to answer, move, and fight when I say it the first time and not have to repeat myself. I loath repeating myself, it makes our relationship all that much more complicated than it needs be."

His blue eyes cast a cold glance her way.

"You will learn your place or I will kill you as quickly as I did the others before you. If you wish to try me, then by all means...."

He challenged her....if she took it, he'd cull her real quick. If not, then maybe this would be one of the few that would work for the best.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Nass did the unexpected. She laughed.

Avante now wore the same expression that Kenst had only brief moments before.

"jiff the hjumann therrre had anjy ssstonesss to hjisss name, jyou would now be locked jin herrre wjith me. Obvjiousssly he doesss not sssjince he'sss only powerrrful when jit comesss to defenssslessssss bejingsss."

The Cizerack looked Bastian up and down while an air of superiority oozed from her.

"Arrre jyou gojing to ussse that orrr jussst wave jit arrround?"

[Bastian Avante]

With a speed that belied his looks, Bastian took that opening to teach her he meant business. He wasnt a "free man" for nothing. He had fought foes deadlier than this braggart alien female and lived, and won. She would be no different as he walked in and began to go through a series of attacks.

If she stopped and gave in before he finished her it would be a good thing. He spent too much for her to waste her like that before hse had a chance to fight in the pits.

[Serena Laran]

Avoiding detection involved, unfortunately, being belly down in the swampy muck in the middle of the monsoon. The four troopers were scattered somewhere strategic, and Jomarr and Serena were alone with their thoughts and the rain.

The ensign raised his head a little and then brought it level with the Admiral's. "Group of eleven - mixed Weequay and Gamorrean." He had to put his mouth right by her ear in order to be heard.

Serena shifted away from his touch, and nodded, acknowledging the information. If they slaughtered the group, it would bring more out to find out what happened to them. If they allowed them to continue, they could possibly lose their ship for good. Weequays, Gamorreans and swamps meant one thing to her. Hutts.

They were gangsters, all of them. Had they come so far off course that they were somewhere in Hutt space?

Her pilot seemed to read her mind. "We were not off course enough to land on Da Soocha V or Nal Hutta. I don't understand..."

Grunting in the distance, heard over the roar of the rainstorm, caused them both to fall into silence as they waited for the group to pass by.

[Jackson DeWitt]

After a few long minutes of thinking, Jackson turned to the old spacer.

"I still think we should try to land."

Marcune hadn't spoken in a while. His age-seasoned brow furrowed as he scoured his controls.

"I'm....starting to agree with you, Jackson."

He looked up with a serious expression on his face.

"I'm going to need your help if we do this. I'll have to do the calculations for entry manually, so climb down to the engine control room while I do it. Keep the hatch open, I'll tell you what to do from there."

Jackson nodded his head in the affirmative, and climbed down from the pilothouse, down the stairs and ladder porthole to the engine compartment, a level below. All around him, pipes and machines hummed in a low tone. There were no comforts in this utilitarian section of the ship. Looking through the ascent hatch, Jackson raised his voice.

"Okay, I'm down here. What do I do?"

Marcune, hands moving deftly on a datapad in mid-calculation, spoke loudly enough for Jackson to hear him below deck.

"There's a secondary manifold, next to the main sublight drive housing. It should be on your left, if your facing the main engines. Do you see it?"

Jackson looked to his left. There was a small rectangular box mounted on the wall, with a network of small pipes branching off from it and going into the wall.

"I see it. Thrust ignition, right?"

"That's the one." Marcune yelled, still at work. "I want you to remove the manifold covering. Inside, you should find a series of covered triggers."

Jackson peeled away the covering on the thrust control station, to find exactly what Marcune described.

"I see it. These are the manual firing triggers for all the ships thrusters and retro's?"

Marcune smiled. "You got it."

His calculations as clean as he could make them, Marcune set the pad aside.

"I'm going to position the nozzle angles. When I call each one, I want you to fire the thrusters on my mark. I'll give you some lead time."

Jackson steeled himself, and nodded, eyes burning into the position of each trigger, and the corresponding numbers that went with them, 1 through 12.

"Alright. I'm ready."

Marcune nodded to himself. "Get ready. I'm setting thruster eight to 27.5, thruster six to 207.5, stand by for burn on five, four, three, two, MARK!"

Jackson depressed the triggers on both thrusters, and felt his stomach pitch a little, as the ship seemed to rotate on its axis. Upstairs, Marcune continued.

"Cut burn now! Thrusters 8 through 12, setting 62 degrees, astern thrust. Fire for ten seconds...MARK!"

The ship began to turn into the planet's upper atmosphere. As Jackson cut the engines, he could feel the slight shift of acceleration, as gravity took control. Marcune's voice raised.

"Jackson, keep steady! Thrusters 1 and 2, 9 degrees to the bow, stand by for three bursts, one second duration. NOW! NOW! NOW! Adjusting three and four to 48 degrees, and fire!"

Jackson worked hard to keep up with Marcune's sharp pace, hands working over the control board as the ship began to shake. For the next three minutes, Marcune and Jackson worked feverishly, adjusting downward pitch, decreasing entry velocity, and trying their damnedest to come down on something survivable. Jackson toiled below deck, sweat streaming from his face.

"How much farther, Marcune???"

Marcune, perspiring equally, didn't miss a beat.

"Almost there, Jackson! We're on approach! Prepare for full burn ventral. Setting to ninety degrees, burn full now!"

Jackson hit the retro's, and waited. Now, the ship was coming down on its own gravity, and the retro rockets were fighting against it. Without the computer's assistance in landing, it was as good as human error. The entire ship shook in anticipation with the rapidly-approaching ground.

Marcune yelled over the noise to Jackson.

"Jackson! Find something solid, and brace for impact! We're going down!"

Moving away from the engine superstructure, Jackson slid himself behind a support bulkhead, and tucked his head between his legs.

Then everything went black.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Engaging one of her captors within the confines of the small, wooden cage was one thing. Only one at a time could fit inside with her and in a one on one brawl, Nass was confident that she could take any of them.

This fellow standing across from her now seemed different. He was at ease and relaxed even while accepting her challenge - of course the thick staff in his hands was a considerable boost to anyone's confidence.

The pole suddenly became a veritable windmill of action as Avante took a step toward her. Twice the Cizerack dodged sharp lunges at her midsection and neatly sidestepped a sweep at her feet. It was when she grabbed a handful of the staff and received a solid kick to the chest, that she began to rethink her strategy. Perhaps here and now wasnt the right time for this type of engagement. Let her get into the open where her strength and agility stood a chance and then it would be a different story.

Retreating back a step, Nasseeri kept a wary eye on Bastian and had just raised her hands to signal a surrender of sorts when a yell rang out.

"Kenst, we dun got us anot'er un! An' nigh righ' wher' we got tha' un!'

Stilts jogged inside the sturdy wooden building, slapping his thighs and one of Kenst's thickly muscled arms in open excitement.

"See wha' Tasalt is bringin' in? Anot'er off-worlder, it is!'

"He's nuthin compar'd ta th' firs' un we dragged in but he migh' fetch a nice price at tha'. Not too tall but good an' solid he be. Human fr'm th' looks o' 'im."

Kenst wasted no time in throwing open the cell door next to Nasseeri's. Tasalt and Stilts grabbed the unconcious male by the back of his shirt and pants and tossed him bodily onto the dirt floor of the neighboring cage. With a heartless flourish, Kenst slammed the door shut, sealing the newcomer's fate. The large man then turned to Avante with a grin.

"Wan' ta hang aroun' an' see wha' we got 'ere?"

[Bastian Avante]

Bastian kept his blue eyes on the female. She was quick...very quick...but she lacked the combat experience he had. He fought for his life and freedom for years till he won out. When she took his foot to her chest, and decided she'd had enough....or needed more room than this tiny cage, he stopped and backed out of the cage.

Then hearing the others gloat of another, he decided to take a gander. Who knows, could be a champion in the makings.

"Sure, let's see what you have there."

He closed the cage door and locked it before making his way to the other. Peering inside, the fellow looked stocky, a bit soft, but nothing a good workout a day couldnt change. Young...that was indeed a plus....sold

"Whatever you're asking for you'll get it....clean him up and get him ready. I'll take him too."

[Jackson DeWitt]

An hour later, Jackson opened his eyes.

The glaring light of an alien world's midday greeted him, accenting the headache that rattled in his skull. It was only when he sat up that he realized that he was in a cage. His brow furrowed, and he moved to the back of his space, away from both his captors and the Cizerack who shared the space next to him. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Feeling a sharp pain, Jackson reached up to his brow, his fingers rubbing along a painful gash at his forehead that had been dressed. He gritted his teeth at the acute pain, and removed his hand from the wound.

The planet was habitable at least. Marcune's gamble had paid off.

Jackson looked around. There was no sign of his pilot.

"Where is the one who was with me?" Jackson asked, to nobody in particular. He was far too disoriented to go into more detail at the moment.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

"From th' looks o' yor frien', Id say stick a fork in 'im."

These words brought a round of hysterical laughter from Stilts who continued slapping his thighs in mirth and who had been there to help in Jackson's capture.

"Yep! Tha' poor sucker was done! Looked right like a rabb't on a spit, he did!"

Nasseeri watched the young human's expression and felt a moments pity for him but quickly hardened her heart to his dilemma. She had her own to deal with and from the little she had seen Avante in action, he would be more than a handful. The Cizerack's eyes turned toward the slave master now, measuring him as he measured Jackson.

[Jackson DeWitt]

Jackson's disorientation evaporated in an outburst of anger. He leapt forward, gripping the bars of his cage.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM??"

[Bastian Avante]

The stable owner smirked. Yes, now he shows his strength....if tempered right he could due well. Bastian walked up to the bars and looked him in the eyes.

"Your friend's demise is of no concern, you however have a date with destiny."

He turned to face one of the captures and handed him the wooden pole.

"Clean him up...then take them to the pen outside.....And make haste...the quicker I get back, the quicker they begin training for the next season."

Bastian stolled out to the waiting wagon with a couple holding pens on it. His time of ridicule as a failed stable owner was now over....with these two he would rise again.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Having your cheek bounced against the rump of an Erk bird results in a terrible and unsightly case of razor-rash. Mirko had sensitive skin, and should not be subjected to such torture. Or so he kept telling the surly man leading his transport, who really didnt seem to give a frak.

Every now and then, he saw Rick -- he too was in the same predicament as himself -- and should have had atleast a drop of sympathy for Mirko. But there was none forthcoming. No doubt Rick was more concerned about Adia's fate. Neither he nor Mirko had caught a glimpse of the pretty little assassin since she copped a Erk hoof in the teeth. They knew she was with them, for a good portion of the outset of their journey had echoed with Adia's defiant, if incomprehensible, curses to their captors.

Slumping his face once again against the offending rump Mirko resigned himself to his misery.

That is, until something that caused his stomach to revolt came wafting to him on the air.

"Great Bantha's in Bloom -- what is that smell?"

Mirko twisted his knobby head on his thin neck to look at the sour fellow leading him as finally the man gave a response. With a gap-toothed grin, the slaver gloated a reply.

"Its your new home"

Mirko lifted his head higher, and felt his heart sink as he took in his first impression of Et'Un'Wen.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

"Hold still, ya damned cat! Now, Tasalt, jab 'er -- not me, ya fool!"

Grabbing his thigh between large, beefy hands, Kenst did his best to ward off the spread of tranquilizer to his huge frame with no success and soon collapsed onto the dirt floor of the shed. Howling with laughter at the plight of their friend, Stilts and Tasalt dragged him over to lean against a wall, well out of reach of the Cizerack's claws.

Wiping the sweat from his eyes, Stilts looked at the older man then jerked his head toward the snarling felinoid.

"We'v' been goin' at this for nigh on ha'f an hour an' we aint non the clos'r t' gettin' 'er in tha' wagon than we were afor we start'd."

Tasalt propped his dart stick next to the unconcious Kenst and took a deep breath. There would be hell to pay when the big man awoke but until that time there were only two of them left to deal with Nasseeri. Capturing her had been a great deal easier than attempting to transfer her to a new locale.

As the two slavers stood speaking in low tones, conferring on the problem at hand, Nass settled back on the rudementary bed to wait. It shouldnt be long before the slave master came in to see what was taking so long and Nasseeri wanted a word with him.

[Bastian Avante]

And return he did. Bastian strolled in not looking too happy and they had better have a good excuse or he'd del them a good thumping before he took care of his "property".

"What the devil is going on here!? I asked they be brought to the wagon and you're still playing around with the female....."

He took one of the wooden poles and smaked one of them alongside his head. Turning after handing out a well deserved punishment for lack of understanding, he glared at the Cizerack still in the cage.

"I grow weary of your beligerance..."

He pointed the staff at her, and slowly made his way to the cage entrance.

" You bring this upon yourself......but youwill learn."

[Vhiran Crescent]

Vhiran stood up slowly, facing the large creature that approached them.

"Meh. Don't be silly, it's not sentient," Vhiran said, his hand on his double blaster at his hip.

[Adia Issoris]

Adia's head thumped rythmicly against the side of the large brown splotched bird. Her legs and arms, while bound, also swung limply in Et'Un'Wen's filthy air.

Huddled masses moved aside when they saw the Gunslinger's wide brimmed hat. Jori was rumoured to shoot whomever he pleased. While that wasn't entirely true, he had killed a lot of people, and had no fear of doing it in public. The reputation had very rarely been a hinderance. Only the most astute recognized him at all without the hat, so he could also travel subtly.

He nudged the Erk carrying Adia forward. Jori reached down and ran his fingers through her hair as they walked through town.

He grinned. Bastian would pay well for the woman and the man, but as for Mirko...

Jori rubbed his chin, in thought. Surely he was good at something. He was a survivor. Well, he would decide what to do with him if Avante wasn't interested, or if he was too interested.

[Rick Wright]

Things had gone from bad to worse in a short time span. Now extracted from the crash party and captured by the slavers, Rick was beginning to wonder whether or not leaving Coruscant had been a god idea. As he watched the world jerk up and down from the back of the Erk, he saw faces staring back at him. They were confused, scared. Perhaps they had never left this planet, he thought. Perhaps the simple sight of outside was alien to them. Somehow, he thought a lot of things might be alien to them.

For a moment, he caught Mirko's eye, "You'll be fine," he said, loud enough so that everyone around would hear, "We'll be out of here in no time."

He grinned and grimaced all at once, as something struck him sharp in the back, a little warning blow for him to keep his opinions to himself.

[Mirko Spendrim]

The halt was abrupt.

Just like the sudden stop after the short drop when Mirko was roughly pulled by his britches from off the Erk bird.

They had arrived at what Mirko guessed was the stable yards for the animals. It was dirty. There were stalls, or what looked more like cages really. Which was odd for stables.


"You think they'll feed us soon?" Mirko hazarded to ask Rick as he too was deposited to the ground with a painful thud.

A thump across the back of Mirko's head by Jori answered that question. The little man's shoulders slumped.


One by one the Erk's were lead from the holding area and Mirko watched them exit as he rubbed the still smarting bump on his head. Not exactly stables, then.

Adia was further down the human lineup, Mirko, could see her if he bent forward a little. He smiled weakly, and waved. And unconsciously shifted closer to the comforting bulk of Rick.

[imported_Darriann Sollak]

"Ya, your probably right. C'mon we have a long trek ahead. No time like the present." Darriann said.

Darriann started walking through the woods in the direction Vhiran said. They were being followed by the creature but it was to far behind for them to see it.

Two days had past since Sollak and Vhiran had crashed on the planet. They were somewhat low on rations so they decided to do some hunting. Nothing big just a bird. They were pretty sure it was safe to eat. The two started a fire and cooked the bird. Darriann wasn't sure how it would taste but he thought it better the grubs.

"The bird looks almost cooked. I'm kinda sick of rations." Darriann said

[Jackson DeWitt]

Jackson remained silent as his apparent slavemaster baited him. Whatever had happened in the time between landing and now, it had taken a turn for the worse. Mourning Marcune would have to wait. Jackson wasn't going to stay a prisoner.

As attention turned to the felinoid, Jackson squatted to his haunches at the front of the cage's bars. He remained there for a moment, so as to not attract attention to himself.

The guards and the overseer continued their efforts on Nasseeri, and Jackson nonchalantly snaked a hand through the bars of his cage, palming a small rock that was nearby. Eyes on the guards, he slowly withdrew his hand back to the cage.

Which to strike?

The guards hung back, clearly giving the overseer and the Cizerack respect by their distance. The overseer was close to the felinoid now. He also had keys at his belt. Jackson took a moment of great concentration, poked his arm through again, and snapped a hard forearm toward Avante, sending his captured stone hurtling at the man's head. With any luck, the blow would knock him unconcious, and the felinoid would pilfer the key off his belt, and free him in turn.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Angry blue eyes stayed locked on the slave master as he stepped up to her cage but something from behind caught her attention. Right ear swiveling, Nasseeri heard the soft scratch in the dirt. What isss that fooljisssh jyoung forrrda dojing?

As the Cizerack swung her head to look down at the male in the cage behind her, his arm whipped forward, slinging the hard projectile right at Avante's head.

In an action that would make her wonder later why she had done it, Nasseeri's arm shot out from between the wooden slats, the small stone making an audible *pop* as it smacked the palm of one clawed hand, her fingers curling around it.

Ignoring Jackson's look of surprise, the female turned to look back at Bastian too late. The butt of the heavy staff caught her center forehead and as her eyes watered from the pain, the slave master swung the wood again, this time thumping the felinoid on the back of her head and dropping her like a brick.

Nasseeri's idea of a trade/truce would have to wait.

[Adia Issoris]

Bastian's keep was a nondescript building a few blocks from the arena, connected with an underground tunnel. It was fenced off from the surrounding buildings, but so were three other places on the block. The gatehouse guard was a gruff looking fellow, with bags under his eyes and a frown that would peel paint. He didn't bother to look up from the book he was reading.

The gatehouse guard was ugly, not stupid. Bastion paid him a decent wage for this very reason.

"Afvterna nun, Jori." He hacked, and pulled the gate open. The metal screeched on its hinges. Not even this roused Adia.

The guard wondered where the rest of the caravan was, but he didn't particuarly care. Slavemaster Sanger had been a shmuck, and always treated him badly. It wasn't as if Onoj had chosen to be ugly.

He grunted, closed the gate after the mercenaries had passed, and rang the "important visitor" bell. Onoj went back to his book and chewed on the tart root a few times.

[Serena Laran]

After three hours of trudging through the swamp, Fleet Admiral Laran was realizing just how out of shape she really was. She'd gone through training on Carida of course, but that had been years ago. Enlisted were the ones who really kept up on their drills and exercise.

She'd become soft.

While she was dealing with that, Bert and Phil came back from scouting. "We're coming up on a city. Walled, and on the coast. We should reach it in about forty minutes." Stormtroopers weren't big on communication, usually only talking to each other. Now in the rain, out of armor and covered with mud, they looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Jomarr turned to Serena, and she shrugged. "We go in quiet, and not together. We have commlinks, and we can keep in touch with each other until the power cells run out. Phil and Bert, you two are Team One, Jomarr and I will be Team Two, and Tom and Willy can be Three."

The four troopers nodded, paired off, and were soon lost in the rain. Serena looked at Jomarr, and he looked back at her, his short black hair matted to his forehead and water dripping into his eyes. "We should wait a few minutes and then follow."

He nodded, wiping his eyes, and then nodded again. "Certainly Admiral. However, I should request permission to call you something other than Admiral."

"Certainly, Ensign. Oh...I mean, Jomarr." To his surprise, and hers as well, she flushed pink. "Call me Serena until we get off planet then."

"Alright...Serena." He checked his chrono, and shrugged, "At the rate the troopers run, they'll be there several minutes before we are. Might as well start."

She nodded, and the pair of officers began walking towards the city of Et'Un'Wen.

[Bastian Avante]

The movement of her hand and the sound of the projectile hitting it, made him react. The staff was thrusted point out and connected her square in the middle of the forehead, he followed it up with a swing to the back of the neck. She went down like a sack of rocks.

The pole was brought back towards him after the Cizerack was felled. He tucked the pole under his arm and slowly turned to face this young man. No, the movement of his arm and the sound of the projectile off of the female's hand hadnt gone unnoticed.

As he walked towards Jackson, his eyes took on a hardness. He brought the wooden staff from under his arm and held it with both hands now, one near each end. He slowly shook his head at the young man.

" tsk tsk.... That was foolish."

Bastian's eyes narrowed at him, and his head tilted forward a slight bit. He was about to teach this young man the reason why he was now in a cage and what it was like to be bought and owned.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Ji am gojing to have brrrajin damage.

It was a combination of her pounding headache and the cramping of her muscles that woke the felinoid. Groaning as her body was jostled and jounced, Nasseeri tried to survey her newest predicament but found she could lift her head only a few inches.

A heaviness tugged downward on her neck and after hitting a particular hard bump, the rattling of chains gave the explanation. Her eyes grew quickly accustomed to the dim yet dappled light seeping into thier conveyance.

After several minutes of quiet contemplation, the Cizerack arrived at a few conclusions and facts. She now wore a metal collar around her neck which was attached to a chain embedded in the wooden floor of the wagon. Her wrists and ankles were shackled together behind her back and they too were chained to the wooden floor. Nass's knees ached from her position of forced kneeling and her shoulders burned from the constant backward pressure of having held her limp weight up. A metal pole ran through the crooks of her arms and both ends fit snugly into the corresponding holes on either side of the thick wooden slats on the wagon's side.

The young forrrda male was unconcious and lying towards the back of the carriage, his wrists tied together with thick rope and knotted to one of the side slats to keep him in place. A large bruise forming on Jackson's cheek and his left eye looked swollen and puffy. Fooljisssh bojy mussst have trjied to fjight, too.

Twisting her head to the left and right, Nasseeri took stock of the wagon. Its side were slatted as her cell had been, but these were larger and much thicker and looked they could easily have contained her hulking maleservant, Laar, who was safe back at ShadowFaene. Rays of sunlight filtered through tiny tears and small holes in the fabric covering the transport. Whether it was to keep them from memorizing their way back or to hide what was inside from prying eyes, Nass couldnt say. Possibly it was both.

Those were the facts. Her conclusions did hold some hope, nonetheless. Though Avante was tough he seemed to have a reasonable side to him. He had said that if they fought him, he would 'show them who was the master', leading Nasseeri to believe that had she and Jackson moved out of their holding pens quietly, he would have stayed his hand. That made him a man of his word - for the moment and a man of reason. If the slavemaster would listen to the offer she had to make, then there was a chance that after some time, she could be free. Perhaps if he played his cards right, the young human male before her could be included in her plan. Perhaps.

[Serena Laran]

Et'Un'Wen

Burga the Hutt squeezed the homing pidgeon between his fat fingers, the bird expiring with a feathery pop. Delighted, he tossed the carcass away, and leaned back on his dias. "They have reached the wreck. The star shuttle is in one piece, and they're working on salvaging it."

Boonta gurgled with glee. "We will finish our star ship first, before anyone else. We will -"

"SILENCE." Burga thundered his disapproval, thumping his bloodied hand on the jar of amphibians, rocking it crazily. "The Imp has spies everywhere!" If the Imp suspected a Hutt was close to completion on the one thing that everyone wanted... He'd sell the information to the highest bidder and then swoop in to collect on the ship while chaos reigned.

"We have to complete the project first. Then we celebrate." Burga stroked his Twi'lek, and then turned to Boonta. "But get yourself a new dancer, to celebrate. Call Bastian Avante. The human has his uses."

Boonta smiled at his parent, and slithered from the hall.

The elder Hutt sat in thought, dreaming about the day he would fly from this awful planet to find the planet that belonged only to Hutts. No more foul humans, and certainly no Imp. Which would be the best part.

***

Serena was saturated with dirt. Jomarr and she had to dodge traffic in the winding streets of the city...if you could call it a city. It sat like a lump of excrement on the edge of the marshy coast. Walls sliced through the city, limiting pedestrian traffic. From a military point of view it was apparent that the place had been constructed to keep people in - or at least make them easy to round up again. Mounted riders on large bird like creatures jostled them to the side of the narrow road, and Serena looked up in time to catch the eye of a rider with a large brimmed hat.

The rain had stopped, which was a blessing. Except that the mud was drying on her body, and her once starched whites were stiff with the swamp muck. Jomarr grabbed her hand and pulled her against the wall of a squat building as the caravan went by. The birds carried riders, as well as prisoners. One woman had long red hair, much like Serena's.

The city was strange. And it stank. But someone had sent the patrol out to their wreck, and she intended to find out who it was. If her ship was being salvaged, it would be beneficial to be here when the patrol came back in.

[Adia Issoris]

Jori didn’t know Bastian personally. He didn’t know anyone very well personally. It was part of his job to not know anyone personally. Jori dismounted his Erk, and removed Adia. She was remarkably heavy for someone of her diminutive size. He grunted, and deposited her somewhat roughly on a stone bench.

“Get them down.” He pointed at Rick and Mirko. “Lay them on the ground, hands up.” While the grounds were well kept and grassy, there was a perpetual amount of mud from the near constant drizzle Et’Un’Wen received.

Jori pulled the red-head back upright. Adia’s head lolled to the left, limp. A trail of spittle wandered from her lips.

Flick. The gunslinger removed a lock blade knife from his belt, and cut away her outer garments, looking for oddities besides her ears. Bits and pieces, like her feet, seemed to be set slightly differently. A brief inspection in her underwear revealed she was normal enough there. Jori wiped his fingers with the discarded bits of cloth. He scratched his chin for a moment before meandering over to Rick. He looked down and smiled. Rick seemed normal enough, and was in exquisite condition. Jori patted Rick on the cheek, and walked over to Mirko.

“Now what am I to do with you?” he asked, and sat in the grass next to him.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko watched in dismay as Jori inspected Adia. He and Rick were impotent to help her, trussed as they were like chicken drumsticks dusted with cayann spice and sold on the Coco strip on Thursday nights.

Their only consolation was that Adia would slit Jori's throat for him should she ever get an opportunity.

Rick was next for the look-see treatment form the huge captor and Mirko bit his teeth together, preparing for his own humiliation.

Instead, Jori sat beside him on the grass - a crooked grin on the gunslinger's face made Mirko sprout beads of sweat all over his body. The curly head twisted to look at Rick, then rolled back over in an unnatural "exorcist" fashion to look up at Jori. A slight clicking of vertebrae was the only discomfort Mirko seemed to experience from his action. For Mirko, it was not an oddity at all. Every one of his joints could twist full 360 degrees if he so chose, with the exception of his waist. That would kill him.

Mirko couldn't hide the fear in his bulbous eyes, though he tried to.


"If you were a smart man...er...which of course you are, given that you are not the one tied up. (an idiotic smile made Mirko's eyes look even more pop-eyed than normal)

"You would see that me..and my friends here, are worth more to you um..together. Like..a package deal. Buy one get another one free. Except, with one more thrown in"

Mirko felt on the verge of panic now as the possibility of being separated took hold of his mind. What if Jori seperated them--him? He looked for Rick to back up his pitch to Jori. Mirko flipped his head around, much like a wriggling fish fopping on a pier gasping for a breath of hope, which was much the way he felt.

"Right Rick...? Right?"

Even Mirko could hear the patheticness of his own voice.

[Bastian Avante]

Riding past the west gate of his estates, Bastian was on the back of the muscular behemoth of a riding beast. The huge K'ygax strode up to the gathered throng of people waiting at the main house. Stopping his riding beast alongside the small group, Bastian looked down at the hunter and his found prizes he had brought to sell no doubt. Two looked promising.....the one sitting next to Jori did not....but looks could be deceiving.

"Jori.....What have you for me today?"

The stable master asked with an not so friendly expression. Then again, Bastian Avante was many things, but friendly never seemed to be one of them. Hard eyes averted to Mirko and they took in the man before them....The left eye squinted slightly in thought. This one he would have to figure out......surely there was something he was not showing them....something he could do unbelievably well and hid.

" How much for the two there?"

He pointed to the unconscious half naked female and the other male....purposely leaving Mirko out of it as he would press a bargin with Jori as he looked unsure of this bug-eyed male. He turned to yell at two hired hands who were chcking out the wagon's contents.

"Place them in the main stables!! But watch the female, if she gives trouble....call me...I will deal with her personally."

As the two men lead the beasts of burden with the wagon to the main stables, he looked bacjk at Jori.

"Well?"

[Serena Laran]

Serena ducked into a corner as her commlink chirped, and pulled it out of her pocket carefully. "Laran here."

"Ad-" There was a pause as stormtrooper thought processes stopped the indavertant rank calling. "Serena, TK-341 and I have found a suficient dwelling place. In the south quarter."

"Good work," she paused for a moment as well, "Tom."

"Thank you sir. We will be laying low." Another pause. "Tom out."

The commlink clicked off, and she replaced it in her pocket as Jomarr turned to look at her. "You've noticed it too, I hope, Ensign. I mean, Jomarr."

He grinned, "I like the way you say my name." Serena turned ice green eyes on him, and he shrugged, "Noticed the way everything mechanical here looks old and worn out? And no commlinks, or any 'modern' technology?"

She nodded, still not releasing him from her disapproving gaze. "These are Hutts, at least there must be Hutts here. Why isn't there any technology? Gansters need their toys."

"Don't look now, but here comes one." Jomarr pointed up the twisted road to where a young Hutt was slithering down the street along with an entourage of assorted aliens and humans. "Never seen one without a skip or a hoversled."

"First time for everything, I assume. South quarter, he said?" She looked around, and Jomarr pointed behind them. "Back that way. We could look around a bit first, wait for the other two to check in."

"I need to find who sent that salvage crew." She eyed the green and brown splotched Hutt calculatingly until Ensign Jomarr stood in front of her.

"Admiral," he murmured, "Everyone else is looking away from it, I would advise you do the same." Serena looked to the side, and saw that it was true, anyone who had been caught on the street with the Hutt was studiously looking at the ground, or away.

"Let's get out of here Jomarr."

He grinned, "Certainly, Serena."

[Rick Wright]

The three were hurled into a mass of hay by rough hands. Rick landed on his back, but saw that Mirko had gone headfirst into a bale of something odious. He squinted and looked up into the bright light and silhouettes of people therein. Rick was becoming very tired and yet struggled to keep his eyes open. He could not let his guard down. By now, he imagined they had begun to rifle through their belongings and soon they would come across the Captain Coruscant uniform. He could only hope they believed it to be some kind of party costume.

“You’ll get no work out of me,” he called hoarsely.

“Nor out of these two. Especially not if you keep us locked up in a stable with no food or water.”

[Jori]

Jori grinned.

"A great deal. Both are experinced combatants. The woman saw Sanger's little trinket, and killed him." The gunslinger snapped his fingers in emphasis of the speed of which it happend.

"She's remarkable with a blade, and, even with the bruising, has a pretty face. Now the man, he's an excellent shot, and very good at moving. Handsome, I'd say. Certain to catch the eyes of the Duchess and her daughters." The Duchess was the leading merchant in Et’Un’Wen, and wielded enough influence to keep the Hutt on her metaphorical toes, not to mention her unspoken alliance with the Imp. Being in her favor was advantageous.

“So, I’ll sell for fifteen thousand. The woman is worth at least that. I’ve decided to keep eyes over there.” He nodded at Mirko.

[Bastian Avante]

His eyes cu to Rick and he glared slightly at the man laying there who had just assumed too much.

"Work?? You think I bought you to work?? You'll have a rude awakening soon lad, and as for food and drink....you'll get it as soon as you're cleaned up."

Fifteen? Hmmm, not a bad deal to say for certain. They'd do well in the arenas. He nodded his acceptance of the price. Still sitting upon the K'ygax, Bastian unhooked a small bag which jingled a bit and looked heavy for a purse. He juggled it a few times within his hand and tossed it to Jori.

"Deal...there's Fifteen thousand in there."

He leaned forward a bit to get comfortable as he asked his next question of the gunslinger.

"Now you've got my curiosity. Why, do you intened to keep that one?"

His blue eyes stayed on the man standing below him. Awaiting the intereting answer that was sure to follow.

[Jori]

Jori smiled death. It was a certain, complete smile. It was indestructable.

"He shouldn't have managed to keep himself alive. Oh, without the woman and man, he'd have been dead. He knows things. He's scared for his life-- and he very well should be."

Jori looked at Mirko briefly with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"Don't concern yourself with him. He's not for sale, Sir Avante."

Jori pulled Mirko to his feet, and sliced his bonds free with one of Adia's vibroblades.

"Come, Eyes, it is time we left Avante to his bussiness." He shoved the small man at the Erk, and watched him scramble up the bird, and laughed.

"Some free advice, Sir." Jori handed Bastian Adia's vibrodaggers.
He whispered, "keep these away from her, or you may well wake up without a head. And don't let her know you have them."

[Burga and Boonta the Hutt]

Boonta hoo-hoomed as he made his way towards the stables of Bastian Avante, paying no attention to the other beings on the road with him. His parent, Burga, would have been carried on a sled pulled by slaves, but it was not Boonta's place to assume such prominence. Yet.

Hutts were tremendously long lived, and after Burga died of old age, Boonta would still have a great many years to enjoy their empire. For empire it would be, after -

His train of thought was broken as his entourage came to the gates, and he waited impatiently as two Gamorreans pounded for admittance. Generally the human, Avante, dealt in fighters, but he usually had an agile female or two around that wasn't trained to be bloodthirsty yet. The Hutts had found these girls could be trained into good dancers. Bastian always had an eye for quality stock.

[Mirko Spendrim]

A rude shove in the back pre-empted any long drawn-out farewells to his companions, and as Mirko clambered up the Erk bird, his cheeks burned with humiliation and anger at Jori's laughter.

A forlorn glance back at Rick and Adia was all the little Information Broker could manage before he was trotted off, once again, to some place he did not want to go, and in company he did not wish to be.

He wanted to tell Rick and Adia not to forget about him -- that he would not forget them! He wanted to tell them not to give up hope -- because he would not give up hope! He wanted to tell them that they would somehow get revenge for such mistreatment -- because he would get revenge for his mistreatment!

Jori's laughter once again cut into Mirko's thoughts, as the gunslinger rode up beside him. The man's cold gaze seemed to read Mirko's mind and the resulting mockery that was reflected in Jori's eyes made Mirko quail inside, turning his brave rebellion to water inside him.

How could someone like Mirko bring vengence on the devil?

No. Mirko would have to adapt if he were to live through this nightmare. Atleast, that was something within the little man's power -- a consolling thought. But not much.

Mirko's thoughts returned to Adia and Rick and he knew they would remain brave, stalwart. He pictured Rick again as he fought off the slavers back at the crash site, fighting 2,3 at a time. He pictured Adia as she stuck her blade into her captor, the fire in her eyes matching the fire of her hair. And his own cowardice brought again a crimson rush to his cheeks.

Jori's laughter resumed, seeing the emotions playout on the little mans face so clearly.

Mirko dropped his head and let the Erk bird take him where it would.

[Jackson DeWitt]

Jackson's eyes opened to a view of darkness.

"Ugh."

He winced, immediately feeling the hot, acute pain at his face, and the swelling against the unfinished wooden side of the cart. His wrists ached from being lashed flush with one of the planks, forcing him to endure unconciousness in an uncomfortable position.

He blinked blearily, and across the wagon, could make out two iridescent blue eyes in the dark.

"Who's there?" He asked, unsure of anything now.

[Bastian Avante]

As he watched Jori and the one he had called "eyes" depart, Bastian's attention was caught by a hired hand who ran up and bent over huffing and puffing trying to get his breath. Bastian canted his head and his expression quickly turned to that of irritation.

"Come, spit it out...what is it Seren?"

"*hoff* B- Boonta....at the gates *hoff*"

Great..the stablemaster thought as he averted his head towards the far gate where the worm like creature was being escorted in by a couple of his hired hands who stood a good several feet away on either side of the Hutt as they made their way up the path.

Gesturing for Seren to take the other female away to the holding pens, Bastian got off of his Ky'gax and gave the reigns to one of the arriving men. Stepping up to the Hutt, Avante gave him a curt nod in respect.

"Good day Boonta, What may I do for you today?"

[Burga and Boonta the Hutt]

Boonta was shown into the grounds, and his large eyes took in his surroundings. Eck birds carried the well-known gunman Jori and his hat out, and Bastian Avante finally made the time to greet the great Hutt himself.

A timid looking slave stood to the side of the Hutt, to translate his Huttese into Basic, "You can open the gates in a timely manner! I had to wait for five minutes in the street, which is a disgrace. But I see that you have just received some new mechandise..."

"Ah, his excellency, the great Boonta the Hutt says that he is displeased by having to wait in the street when he is such a good customer. But you have been busy receiving new merchandise, and so he will extend his merciful forgiveness." The slave shuffled her feet, refusing to look in anyone's eyes as she waited for the next words.

"I am looking for a new dancer." Boonta let his bulbous eyes roam around the courtyard, and he caught sight of the red-headed woman being taken away. "A...red-headed dancer. I do not have a red hair yet."

The slave woman, kept on only because of her gift with languages and not her beauty, translated, waiting for Bastian's response.

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

A low growl rumbled softly beneath the covering of the wagon.

"Ssstupjid forrrda! Jif jyou had not been ssso eagerrr and fooljisssh, we would not be trrrussssssed and tjied asss we arrre now! ji had a plan, but now ji doubt Avante wjill go forrr jit due to jyourrr rassshnessssss!"

Nasseeri would have liked to have taken out her frustration and pain on the human before her but the unmistakable, deep toned garblings of a Hutt stilled her sharp tongue and brought a quick swiveling of her ears as she strained to pick up every word.

[Serena Laran]

Twenty minutes later they were deep in the northern quarter of the city. Laran had decided they would seek out the power center of the city by backtracking the Hutt. Walking the streets of the city called Et'Un'Wen was so different from walking the sterile halls of the ISD Kelvin. All around her garbled Basic and various alien tongues held sway, and only on Coruscant had she seen such a mix of beings. Humans, aliens, bi-pedal and otherwise... all looked worn down.

Shouts got her attention, and Serena looked over to a slightly more open area, a courtyard filled with cheering beings. She nodded to Jomarr, and the pair of them shouldered into the crowd to see what was going on. Within a few seconds it was evident - a pair of alien fighters were going at it, and apparently the crowd was betting heavily on one of them as they pummeled each other into a mass of bruises and blood. Jomarr was separated from her for a few moments, and the unwashed crowd pressed in around her.

Disgusted, Serena turned away, only to have her hair grabbed from behind her. "Oy! Red! Where'ya goin'?" Serena was yanked backwards to be face to face with a rotten toothed human male. His foul breath washed over her face, and she almost retched. "Ol' Thomas got a present for ya." He leered and grabbed at the front of his trousers.

"Let go of me!" She hadn't risen through the ranks to Fleet Admiral without attaining a commanding voice. Laran tried to stomp on his foot, but he had her off balance with his filthy hand still wrapped up in her hair.

Ensign Jomarr was there suddenly, his fist crashing through the mess of Ol' Thomas' face. Laran caught her balance as the hand let go of her, taking quite a few long red strands with it. She kicked Thomas in the crotch for good measure, her military boots making quite an impression on the horrible man. Around them the crowd roared, half in excitement at the new entertainment, and half in dismay as the favorite fighter in the ring was downed by a sucker punch. Jomarr shouted in her ear, "I found the Hutt 'palaces,' they're just up the way!"

"Great." She didn't have anything else to say, but turned back to Thomas and kicked him in the ribs as he tried to get to his feet. "Maybe we should go take a closer look."

[Bastian Avante]

Bastian listened to the well mannered and well "worded" translation. Hutts were not known for being well mannered and this translator was well schooled in the art of "candying" Boonta's words. Which was good, due to Bastian's distaste for ill mannerisms. He was a legend after all in the "pits". Worked his way to freedom and stardom through it, faced uncounted and sometimes, intimidating foes, but stayed alive. He would have to show his appreciation for this workers initiative some time or another for her service.

Bastian followed the gaze of the hutt over to where Seren was taking the fire headed female to the stables. A smile formed as he knew if Boonta actually got his hands on that one, she'd cut his slimy heart out in a split second chance that she'd be given.

"That one there is no dancer I assure you great Boonta. She's too dangerous. I would feel.....bad, if I sold her to you knowing I had let such an thing go and put anyone in danger. I have a golden haired one of you'd like that....do you have a golden hair?"

He was talking of the blonde he had found on a hunt two weeks ago, she wasnt good for the pits and only kept her around to help with chores. She'd serve better as Boonta's dancer than the one who carried the vibro knives.

"If you want the golden hair, I would sell her to you at a good price. A special deal only for the great Boonta."

[Adia Issoris]

Adia groaned. Her head pounded terribly. She tried to sit up, but her hands were bound to her feet. The assassin rolled over, trying to get a view of the room, albeit blurry. Adia looked down, noting that her outer clothing had been sliced up.

She glanced down at her bonds, wondering why she was tied up, and why her head hurt. The last thing she remembered was walking to meet the caravan. What had happened since?

She sniffed the air, picking up a familiar scent.

“Rick? Rick?” Adia rolled around, trying to look for him. Her vision was still acting up. That must have been one hellacious blow to the head. Her vision was normally hawk-like in the day, and owl-like in the dark. This was doubly disorienting. There were voices in the distance, but Adia’s difficulty focusing carried into her hearing, too. This had happened before, when she made a hasty exit from a fifth floor window. It would pass in a few days, but for now it was tremendously inconvenient.

“Frell…”

[Mirko Spendrim]

It could be worse.

Mirko eyed himself critically in the full-length mirror.

The sleeves were a little long, and the pants loose. Mirko had pulled his new belt to the last notch, and even with the shirt tucked in, there was still a fair bit of wriggle room. But all in all, he thought he looked rather dapper in what was now his new "uniform". In truth, Mirko still looked somewhat rumpled and disheveled. It seemed to be inate to the man himself, but he was dressed better than most of the other slaves.

And slave he was. Jori had made that very clear in the short time it had taken them to arrive at the Gunslinger's abode and to find a change of clothing for Mirko.

Just because he had permission to move about the gunslinger's household as a type of manservant-come-valet, Mirko should not get the mistaken impression that he was out of danger, or that his life would not be forfeit the moment Jori grew weary of him.

And so it was, with the proverbial hatchet poised over his head, and dressed in his new fancy suit, Mirko shuffled around Jori's sitting room examining pictures, fingering trinkets and touching various knick-knacks that dotted shelf and sideboards.

One particular item fascinated the little Information Broker, and, lifting it to the light, Mirko inspected it with intensity. It was of a rare stone, carved into the image of an attacking falcon. He had not seen its like since...His knotty fingers held the item with surprising delicateness, and scruitinised it. And it was because of this fragile hold, that the peice almost flew from his hands when Jori, who had entered the room behind him unawares, spoke right into his hairy little ear.

As Mirko spun to face the gunslinger, he did a ridiculous dance in order to keep the precious carving from falling from his juggling grasp. One quick snatch by the gunslinger's hand and the falcon was plucked from danger and removed from Mirko's foolish possession.

An apologetic smile withered and died on Mirko's lips in the heat of Jori's glare.

"Thats, um...a real nice peice.."

[Rick Wright]

Rick had managed to prop himself up against a bale in the stable, and was watching Adia as she squirmed about, more than lost. “I’m here,” he called out, watching her twist towards the sound of his voice. He had been lucky to avoid taking any blows like those that Adia had received. He frowned, and gave his bonds another tug in vain. The one time he needed to be a real hero, and he couldn’t. “Mirko’s gone,” he continued gruffly. “Do you remember what happened? We’ve just been sold, from what I gather… Mirko stayed with the bastard who sold us.” With his anger rising for a moment, he once again struggled against his ties, cursing under his breath after a brief attempt at thrashing them open.

[Adia Issoris]

She looked over at Rick, her eyes still out of focus. She could see him, though. Adia's upper right forehead was tremendously swollen. The slug was flattented agains her skull, but her body had already begun to reject it. Even without aid, it would be mostly healed in a week.

"Rick, that is excellent cord. Don't bother. I'm in no shape to move right now. I could break mine, but there would be no point. I doubt I could run for ten meters." She could feel him about to say something, by the way his chest gathered.

"And I'm much heavier than I look. About sixty-three kilos." Rick paused, thinking on that, and gave her a second once over. Adia rolled closer to Rick. He smelled of mud and sweat and exhaustion. But he also smelled, well, manly.

"I remember the poision ring, and cutting his guts out. After that, it's blank. Krasst, what did I get hit by, a Gammorean weilding a pickaxe?"

[Jori]

Jori stared hard at Mirko.

“I advise you, Eyes, to be more careful where you put your little paws. Things on Serna Pur are not always as they seem.” A blink quick, he rapped his knuckles against Mirko’s shaking left hand. The short man yelped and clutched his hand.

“Most people in Et’Un’Wen would have your little misshapen hand for such an intrusion. I’d advise you not to rifle through anything else in this room. Something might reach out and kill you.” Jori said it coldly. His eyes were dead serious.

“However,” The gunslinger continued, “you are free to move about the rest of the house and weasel your way into whatever cupboard might fascinate you. You are also free to move about Et’Un’Wen, but you need to be back every third day by sunset. After that, I’ll assume your rat nose got you into something you can’t get out of, and I will find you.” Jori raised an eyebrow as he said the last part. “And I will charge you for my inconvenience.”

“Now Eyes, I know you’re as observant as you are ugly. Just don’t observe certain things. You seem to be clever enough. Here’s enough for four meals.” Jori handed Mirko a small pouch of coins. “Hide them. The streets are deep with pickpockets.”

“Now out.” Jori opened the door and watched the little man scramble.

[Burga and Boonta the Hutt]

"If you want the golden hair, I would sell her to you at a good price. A special deal only for the great Boonta."

The Hutt grunted, and hoomed for a moment. "I already have many with yellow hair. I want red. Do you have what I want, or not?" The slave woman translated after a moment's hesitation, a shove on her back with the blunt end of a pike encouraging her.

The Hutt's entourage shifted around, a few Weequays seeming ready to search the place themselves.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Mirko found himself out on the streets of Et’Un’Wen.

He meandered through the busy thoroughfares, eyes agog, at the sheer overwhelming throng of bodies and beasts of burden cluttering the way.

He was a stranger in a strange land.
Oh sure, Adia and Rick were here somewhere, but finding them would take a bit of doing. And he'd have to do it without that awful Jori finding out. The man was likely to do very bad things to him, if he knew Mirko was plotting to somehow free his companions and escape to Corsucant. Funny how he'd always hated the CoCo district, but now it was all he thought of. Well, all, with the exception of food. Mirko was very hungry.

With the money Jori gave him (what a shocker that had been) clanking in his new pockets, the little Information Broker forgot his plight, the plight of his friends, even forgot Jori momentarily, as he stepped into a dimly lit diner and sat himself at a booth.

[Rick Wright]

In spite of Adia’s advice, Rick still felt the need to struggle against his bonds, if only so he felt as though he was doing something to escape. He didn’t have much faith in Mirko to free them, frankly – he seemed like the resourceful type, but they were all very much out of their league and depths now. So far he had managed to fight back any feelings of hopelessness that might try and sneak up on him, but he knew that it was only a matter of time…

“I don’t know what happened really. It was all a blur. I was trying to keep them back, we seemed to be on top or a while, and then suddenly we’re here and… frell knows what’s happened to the rest of the ship. Probably still out there, totally terrified and lost. Frell, you know we should have been looking out of them and we just jumped into a fight… look where it got us.”

[Serena Laran]

She'd spent some time on Tatooine once, and although she'd never been to Nal Hutta, Serena thought she knew what to expect when it came to Hutts. The vile canal that ran through the most prominent 'palace' smelled bad enough to induce Jomarr to vomiting.

The Admiral tucked her long hair behind her ears as Ensign Jomarr wiped his mouth on his shirttail. She was sitting on an upended barrel, watching the traffic into the squat building. It was larger than any of the others they'd seen in the city, but it only stood two stories high. "It's impressive, but only in this city." She eyed Jomarr. "Can you continue?"

He nodded, still a bit green around the gills. "As long as I don't get too close to that...stream. Gods, it's thick enough to cut with a knife." Jomarr dropped to the dirt beside her, crosslegged on the ground. "I contacted the troopers. TK- ah, Tom and Willy are making their way here. The other two are making sure we have a place to fall back to, staying at the apartment. They say that the planet is called Serna Pur."

He waited, to see if she had any reply. Serena paused in thought, and then turned to him. "Serna Pur? Doesn't that translate to ...something fall. Twi'leki, isn't it?"

Jomarr nodded, exitement bringing a bit of color back to his face. "Yes. Well, sort of. I studied xenological languages in the Academy, sort of as a back up in case the piloting thing didn't work out." He blushed as Serena raised an eyebrow. "Well, you know. Anyway, it's Twi'leki, yes, but serna comes from the word serno in Zabrak. It means ship, or perhaps the plural, ships."

"Ships Fall, then?" Laran shook her head. "This is getting more and more interesting by the moment." She tapped the ensign's shoulder, "Look, that group over there. They look covered in mud. Wai-" She cut herself off. "Tell me that isn't what I think it is."

Jomarr scratched his shoulder and turned slowly to look, being nonchalant and non-obvious about it. "Well, call me stupid, but it looks like two of the fuel cells from our shuttle." He didn't look sick now, he looked angry

"Yeah." Serena studied her fingernails, digging out some dirt from underneath them while the entourage of beings went past. "The new question is, how are we going to get them back, and get our shuttle out of the swamp?"

[Jackson DeWitt]

Originally posted by Nasseeri Haalleerraa
A low growl rumbled softly beneath the covering of the wagon.

"Ssstupjid forrrda! Jif jyou had not been ssso eagerrr and fooljisssh, we would not be trrrussssssed and tjied asss we arrre now! ji had a plan, but now ji doubt Avante wjill go forrr jit due to jyourrr rassshnessssss!"

Nasseeri would have liked to have taken out her frustration and pain on the human before her but the unmistakable, deep toned garblings of a Hutt stilled her sharp tongue and brought a quick swiveling of her ears as she strained to pick up every word.

Jackson didn't flinch from the felinoid's scathing remarks.

"I saw an opportunity and I took it. More than I could say about you. I would've had him if you hadn't swatted my stone down."

Attempting to shift into a more comfortable position, Jackson looked at Nass with unfocused defiance.

[Mirko Spendrim]

Chowing down on a "boonta steak" (a 4-inch thick chunk of meat slathered in a couragous conglomeration of cajun spices and exotic herb gravy set atop pepper-fried potatoes) Mirko was beginning to feel back to his old optomistic self again.

Hot food will do that to you.

So will cheap wine.

And after Mirko's fourth glass of the stuff, the diminutive broker was feeling a sunny disposition settling on him.

The doe-eyed waitress was smiling at him. Mirko was convinced she found him charming.

And why not? Mirko felt he oozed charm. And no one could argue that his suit wasn't dapper.

Pushing his now emptied plate away and digging two fingers into his collar, Mirko loosened his shirt and tie hoping to loosen the pretty little vixen's tongue just us much. He had been pumping her for information, in his trademark discreet style, but so far she had helped him little.


"So...you know much about this Sir Avante fellow? I mean...he's rich right?"

"Big rich" came the girl's reply.

"And he buys slaves right?"

"Stock, not slaves" the girl corrected mechanically.

Mirko slurped his wine.

Dabbing at his mouth as if he was a Lord of the Manor, he missed the strange shadow that passed momentarily in the girl's eye as she flicked a communicative look to a brutish man behind Mirko.

"And the stock..what's it for? Like...house servants and things"

"And things" the girl said vaguely.

Mirko didnt like the sound of that much as his thoughts drifted to Adia and Rick.

He continued to fish a bit longer. Where did Avante live? Was he just travelling through? Did the girl know anyone who worked for him?

But though the waitress was happy enough to talk, and for all her disinterested manner in the man Avante himself, she really didn't divulge very much.

Twenty minutes later, Mirko left the diner, having paid for his meal and leaving a 2 cred tip for the friendly waitress (he was feeling generous), and stepped out again into the Et’Un’Wen evening.

As the door closed behind him, banging loudly as a gust of wind caught it and added its touch to closing it, Mirko was unaware of a large shadow that slipped out after him and began to trail along a short distance behind him.

[Bastian Avante]

Bastian watched the Weequays fidgit and take a few steps, a few cautious steps. His eyes slightly narrowed and he cut them to the Hutt who was paying him this visit.

"Boonta, I have always dealt well with you. I would hate to see our....Business relationship to be hurt in any way. If a red haired girl is what you want, then I will provide one for you. I have resouces and I will see them. If that is alright with you. I can have one for you as soon as the 'morrow. What do you say?"

He hoped he'd take the offer. They were being observed by his own hired hands. He was being overly generous with this Hutt. For the Weequays ready to search was an insult to the one time pit champion, the now free, rich man that stood before them.

[Burga and Boonta the Hutt]

The Hutt hoomed a bit, and the Weequays subsided, glaring at each other as the species always did. The slave woman provided an explaination as the Hutt replied to Bastian's offer. "The glorious Boonta the Hutt agrees that this is an acceptable situation. Tomorrow, then."

She bowed deeply, a bit of grace in the movement. Boonta knew that Avante would send word by way of a runner, or perhaps a personal visit to the Hutt palace, as soon as a red-haired slave woman could be found. They did indeed have a long relationship, although a Hutt's life was much longer than the pathetic humans. Longer than the Imp's, too.

At the thought of the Imp, the Hutt's mood darkened, and he shouted for his people to move out. It was time to go. Plans needed to be made.

[Adia Issoris]

Adia stared at Rick for a minute.

"He tried to poison me." She said with a growl.

"They would have taken a lot more of us, but they couldn't because we killed the bastards. We didn't abandon anyone." Adia was frustrated. Rick felt a sense of duty twoards the rest of the ship that she could understand, but didn't fully feel.

"I'm sure there are some frontier folk mixed in. They'll manage." She hoped she was right. Rick seemed unconvinced.

Adia twisted, looking around. Everyone seemed occupied for the moment.

"I guess we're not a priority right now. So..." Adia wasn't good at talking to people.

"...um... question tag?" She sighed, tilting her head into the hay bale. "I don't really know anything about you. I'd guess you're military or a Police Special Tactics member. Single? Ummm... distingushed record. Upstanding citizen, that sort? Age late twenties, early thirties."

[Rick Wright]

They were just going to sit and wait, then. He didn’t really like that idea, but there wasn’t another option at the moment. Not until they were feeling stronger and out of these bonds – and really, Rick didn’t see either of those things being actualized for some time yet. Rick laughed weakly, nodding, at what his counterpat had said. So he was that see-through.

“You’ve all but got me pegged. Ex-special forces, military. Not a blemish on my record.”

He shifted a little against the hay, giving Adia some more room. “Now, I’m usually good with people, but you… you’ve got me confused. You’ve got some pretty extensive weapons proficiency, but I can’t place the style, or wherever you learned it. Home schooled? Maybe… taught yourself it, for protection?” he hazarded.

[Adia Issoris]

She smiled.

"No, not exactly. I trained with the Mistryl Shadow Guard, but wasn't allowed in because I wasn't born Mistryl. I grew up, ah, um. In a lab." Her ears drooped as she said the last part.

"Rick, I don't think we're ever leaving this planet. For once in my life, I'd like to be able to be honest with someone." He smelled uncomfortable.

"I'm no good at this kind of thing."

[Nasseeri Haalleerraa]

Anger rose, quick and sharp and her nose wrinkled in a soundless snarl. DeWitt's face loomed beyond her reach, smug and defiant.

"Do jyou realljy thjink jyou would have 'had hjim', forrrda?? Once hjisss pajin easssed, the ssslavemasssterrr would have beaten jyou wjithjin an jinch of jyourrr pathetjic ljittle ljife and then turrrned hjisss angerrr on me! ji am not gjoing to sufferrr forrr one asss ssstupjid asss jyou!!"

Heedless of her trussed up position, Nasseeri lunged forward, her clawed toes digging into the wood floor of the wagon. A howling of fury and pain erupted from her striped throat as the metal collar dug into the soft flesh of the Cizerack's neck. The pole wedged between her arms and back instantly snapped upward, threatning to wrench her shoulders from thier sockets.

Forget her intentions to make a pact with Avante, forget the searing pain lancing through her body. Nass wanted to kill.

[Bastian Avante]

KRAK! The loud connection of the heavy wooden pole upon Nass' cage had gotten what he demanded...Silence. Bastian had walked in after dealing with the Hutt to explain things to his new fighters. Things they needed to know for thier survival out of the pits. Survival in the pits were on thier own merit and thinking.

"That is enough out of you. As for you two.." Bastian looked to Rick and Adia. "...I am Bastian Avante, stablemaster and your owner. None of you were bought as hired hands, nor as slaves. You were bought to fight in the pits."

Avante walked around the small area between the four pens that held the newly aquired fighters. Looking at each one of them. "All I will say to you is, do as I say....when I say, and everything you need or ask for shall be your's. Defy me, and I will split your heads in two and make up my losses in the ones that are left." The wooden pole he had hit the Ciz's cage with was now resting across his shoulders, with both hands holding the ends.

"Now, you will each be cleaned and taken to the dining hall in my home. You will not be chained, nor hindered in any way. Reason being, I have people here to take care of escapees and I am very skilled to handle any of you." Pacing around, Bastian was very relaxed. "It is a trust thing between us, you trust I keep you in good and happy conditions, I trust you to win....one other note, I trully would be disappointed if any of you were to show ill mannerisms and try to escape. It would very much upset me as I detest ill manners...In a very deadly way I might add." The look he gave spoke of that he was not lying. Far from it. Test him, and they would more then likely lose. Placing the pole against a wall, and turning to them all. " Now, if none of you have anything to ask, or comment to make, I will take my leave of yo so my workers may get to the task of making you all presentable and comfortable."

[Rick Wright]

Rick had been about to answer Adia, to ask about the laboratory, when their benevolence owner had appeared. He squinted through the bars of their holding cell to see the man, as he paced back and forth, speaking to … frell knows how many people. Had he captured others from the crash, or had there been ships before theirs to fall? Rick didn’t want to listen to a word this stuck-up drannit was saying, but somehow he knew that if he did cause trouble, it wouldn’t just be him who would suffer.

“No questions,” he piped up.

[Serena Laran]

She'd never had a dress uniform get this dirty before. Vice Admiral Laran resisted brushing at the stained wool, now a mixture of greens and browns, rather than sparkling white. And even with her boots caked with brown mud, vagrants still eyed them, as though figuring out whether they'd fit their own feet or not.

Jomarr's grey wool uniform jacket, sans insignia of course, was tucked into a pack they'd bought at a roadside stand. The shopkeeper's eyes popped at the Sovereignty credits Laran had produced, but had still accepted them, although at a fraction of their value. Something about "new forms of currency all the time." Change had been given in Republic credits, not New Republic, but the old sort. Serena's eyes had popped at that.

The Ensign's undershirt was travelstained as well, but did nothing to hide his physique. Not overly impressive, but nicely muscled.

Serena mentally slapped herself as she un-buttoned her jacket, choosing to leave it on over her white silk tank top. The humidity was opressive, although the heat of the day seemed to be waning. Making their way towards where the troopers had holed up was taking longer than anticipated.

Jomarr stopped suddenly, and she ran into his back. "Jomarr, what is it?" She edged around his shoulder to try and give him a commanding glare.

"Ah, I think we're lost." He frowned in concentration. "The signs are a horrible conglomeration of languages, but somehow we're in the west quarter, near as I can figure. Not south, like we want to be." Ensign Jomarr looked around them. "Ask for directions, maybe?"

Serena remained silent while she considered the options, allowing him to draw her out of the middle of the road. "It is efficient to ask for directions, but who do we ask?"

[Mirko Spendrim]

He had seen the same hulking figure twice now in the past half hour.

Not an unusual thing really, given that Mirko was basically walking in a large circle around the township core. It was not uncommon to pass the same people who, too, were just milling about in the cool night air.

The unusual thing about it, and that which made Mirko wary, was that the hulking figure, on both occassions, had deliberately tried to go unnoticed. Tried to blend, look like he was window-shopping or something.

Mirko's heart started to race. He could not take another apprehending of his person by violent men in this strange place. Suddenly Mirko wanted desperately to find Jori. Sad that his only hope of survival hung on the generosity and good will of a dangerous slaver.

Crossing the street, Mirko watched via reflection in a butcher-shop window the hulking man do the same.

Changing direction and scuttling back across the street, Mirko left his shadower no choice but to do the same. Now there was no doubt.

Fearing the worst, Mirko ran hard. Hulking man did the same.

For once, fortune was good to Mirko, as a beast-drawn cart barrelled down the street, holding up the progress of his pursuer.
Seizing the opportunity, Mirko ducked down a side street, then doubled around coming across to the same side he had started on. Hulking man, running once more, had not seen the switch-back and was now going in the wrong direction.

Sighing loudly, Mirko spun on his heels and made haste to return to Jori's house.

[Adia Issoris]

Astronomer's Watch
"Bugger! Right into the sea!"
"Calm down, old man." Den Connors had been forced back to escort the equipment that had come down with the Balmorra Wind. It had been expensive, but tons of the thing had already been moved hundreds of clicks across mountains and sea. The communications suite had been a goldmine, and Den was currently swimming in superconducting cable.

"Calm down!" The old junior astronomer was awfully uppity today.
"Yes. I can't concentrate with you squawking." Den sighed. Aside from meters upon meters of superconducting cable, not much of the communications array had been salvageable. Bursts of light popped off the atmosphere. The same energy that had pulled the ship down had also destroyed most of the actual equipment. In some cases, it had melted into indistinquishable goo. To make matters worse, the burned bits reeked of an unearthly smell.

With the effort of some senior technicians, the quality of the aircomm network had been improved signifigantly, thanks to intact coils of the wire.

Of course, most of the astronomers were bouncing about the mostly intact engine that was rolled from the crash site to a small settlement outside of Galewarden. The crash survivors had been a surprising amount of help. Some even knew how to farm land, or repair damaged equipment.

One thing worried Den: What were the Imp and Hutts up to?