Sing a Smuggler's Shanty (Open)

[Loki Ahmrah]

It was the fifth cantina he had visited that day. Two levels below the Coruscant upper levels, here one can walk amongst the scum without the threat of being mugged or murdered by them. Loki had spent the last two days moving from bar to bar, in civillian disguise, carrying posters. He was tired and fancied a drink, so after having word with the bartender of The Nabooian Queen, he nailed his poster to the notice board and took a seat at the bar.

"I'll have a Bellorian Ale, please." He said, leaning forward, hands clasped.

"You'll have nothin' until you get rid of that hood, mystery man." The bartender replied, running a cloth around the inside of a large glass.

"Apologies." Loki pulled back his hood and watched the grubby man, his eyes narrowed and for a moment he stared at the youngster.

"Heh!" He threw the cloth over his bulging shoulder and put the glass down. "You're a young one, especially for these parts. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt but I don't got any Bellorian stuff. Blue Ale?"

"Yeah, that will do."

"So-" He began pouring Loki's drink, it was milky blue and had a thick creamy head of foam. "What sort of job are you offering on that poster of your's? It's quite er... secretive."

"I'm just looking for a good pilot who has time to kill."

"Ha! C'mon bucko! Are you kidding me?" The large glass of ale hit the bar with a thud. The bartender held out his open hand; huge rough palms, hairy knuckles.

"You and I both know that there's no such thing as a good pilot down here! Ha-ha! C'mon, what are you after?"

"A quiet drink." Loki gave the bartender a reprimanding stare, dropped a couple of credits in his hand, stood and headed over to the table below his poster. He took a seat and looked up. It read:

Wanted: An able pilot with ship for a week's work. Handsome pay.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She didn't sip her dark ale, she chugged it. Business with Dan the Mystery Man kept her out of drinking establishments far too often. After the last job, with the woman, Arya was nursing a black eye and hadn't seen or heard from Dan in a week. Give or take three days.

"Hey - what's this in the trash, Belinda?" Arya bellied over the bar to grab what had caught her eye, stretching out to snatch the crumpled poster out of the garbage. Someone smacked her butt as she was dangling over the bar, but as she sat back onto her stool there was no one in sight who looked guilty. The smuggler harrumphed grumpily, and started smoothing out the torn paper as the girl behind the bar walked over.

A pretty blonde with streaks of unnatural colors in her hair, Belinda was good with drinks and other things. The Lucky Eldaarian was not owned by an Eldaarian, although then the name would have at least made sense. Madame Ovarie ran the bar and her girls with a tight fisted hand. She was firm, but tended to the romantic, and liked to powder her face white and place large brown moles on her cheeks. The look might have been better, had she not been an overweight Twi'lek matron. Romanticism was rare in her profession, to say the least.

Ovarie had once told Arya that she'd gotten her name from a book, although the smuggler suspected that she'd gotten the name wrong. None of this ran through her head as she read the poster with Belinda wiping out a glass on the other side of the bar.

"An able pilot with ship for a week's work, and handsome pay?" Arya looked up and Belinda shrugged. "Who brought this here?"

The glass went down, and the girl refilled Arya's Guinness. "He just left. Han'some fellow, young, though." The full glass was set in front of Arya, and Belinda automatically went to taking care of the other patrons, who were all male, as she answered Arya's question. "He didn't stay long, just put up this lil' sign and sat down over there," pointing, "'an had a drink."

Arya crumpled up the poster again, and when it was a compact ball, she lobbed it to Belinda, who caught it deftly. "Do you know where he went?"

"One of the gals asked him his pleasure, an' he colored up all pink and nearly choked on his drink. He's very young Arya, not your type." Belinda returned to stand in front of the smuggler, dropping the paper ball into the garbage behind the bar. Arya opened her mouth to protest her designs on the man, and then Belinda winked. "Just kidding, of course. I think he was heading to another bar. He told the girl that he's been going from bar to bar for two days. She said he had a trace of Chandrila on his tongue. But, Amee's crazy about accents."

One of the 'waitresses' heard that, and must of been Amee, because there erupted a good-natured argument about which had the worst weaknesses. Arya stood up in the middle of it, and pushed some credits towards Belinda.

"Thanks for the drinks Bel, it's been an experience." Arya straightened her nerfhide jacket over her shoulder holster.

Belinda shooed Amee away, and grinned. "You know, Madame has said you're such a good patron you could have one for free. If you like."

Arya laughed at that. "What, me with my scars and my black eye? I wouldn't want you girls to run crying in fear once you saw me." The smuggler turned to go, and then turned back to the bar and grabbed her glass, draining it. Now she was ready to leave.

Pushing her way through the rowdy group that would only get rowdier as the night went on, Arya nearly broke a man's arm when he groped her. She twisted his hand around and pushed it up near his face, turning her black eye towards him. "Do you think I look like one of Ovaries girls?" Her face was not ugly, even with the puffy eye, but he stammered no, and apologies followed her out of the establishment.

She stopped at the very next bar, The Nabooian Queen, and ducked inside. It only took a glance to see the young man sitting against the wall under a matching poster to the one she'd recovered from The Lucky Eldaarian's garbage. She beelined it to the bar.

"Ale, dark." She looked at the huge man, and amended, "Please."

"Any preference? We don't carry anything fancy." He leaned his hairy knuckles on the bartop.

She stared at them for a moment, and then looked back up at his face. "Just the darkest, thickest ale you have. I don't want to be able to drink it, I want to chew it. An' then I'm going over there so can you tell me anything about that kid?"

The bartender raised an immense eyebrow as he poured the ale. "Him? Nothing to tell, he just came in. Said he's looking for a 'good pilot.'" He chuckled, a deep rumble from his chest that Arya imagined was shaking the bar. Maybe she'd had too much to drink already. She looked at her hand for a minute, fascinated by her fingernails. Mostly because she barely had any. That green-eyed woman and her man friend had really worked her over.

The smuggler bent her fingers warily, watching the scabs on her broken knuckles stretching. She couldn't remember why she hadn't visited a bacta facility. Something about the Sovereignty owning the bacta supply, and prices were up.

The bartender cleared his throat, and act that demanded her immediate attention. It got it. Arya looked at him intently through her open eye. He gestured with an open hand at the glass in front of her. "You're paying now." It wasn't a question.

Arya pretended to grump, and dug in her pants for a credit chit. Slapping it on the bar, she took the ale, and took a deep drink from it. Truly, horrible ale. She thought it wasn't so much thick as chunky. Nevertheless, she took it over with her to the young man's table, and plunked herself down across from him.

[Loki Ahmrah]

Loki had been huddled forward, leaning against the table with one hand wrapped around his glass and the other cradling his chin. He was staring intently into the glass, the froth had disolved inside yet it was still half full. He had decided he would retire for the night once he'd finished his drink.

When Arya planted herself into the seat, Loki snapped upright in his chair. His wide-eyed stare melted into a look of confusion. He pulled his glass closer, confusion turning into curiosity.

"Hey." He cleared his throat.

"Can I help you?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

The ale had sloshed out over her hand when she'd sat down, and she picked up a rare napkin and busily wiped it off. "Can you help me? No, no, the question you should be asking is how I can help you."

He still was regarding her with a mildly curious face, so she jabbed her thumb in the direction of the notice board. "You need a pilot?"

[Loki Ahmrah]

"A pilot!" He blurted with relief, his experience with the women of The Lucky Eldaarian moments before had not gone forgotten. He regarded the woman with intrigue, she was pretty for a pilot.

"Yes, I'm after a pilot." Loki settled, leaning back comfortably, he brought the glass to his lips and looked across to the woman. "A good pilot."

He took a full swig of ale, sighed and placed his drink back on the table. Slouched in his chair, he clasped his hands on his stomach and released a belch, just as he had practised.

"Alright! What experience you got, lady?"

Beneath the table, his foot tapped nervously against the chair.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She regarded him through her one good eye, and blinked a bit at the belch. Not something she'd expected. "I've been doing the Kessel Run since you were in diapers, and I've outrun Cizerack patrols. Not to say," she hazarded, "that I needed to, but you know how unfriendly the Pride is."

Arya wasn't one for sipping, but she cautiously put the mug of ale to her lips once more. Just as bad as she remembered. The smuggler set the drink down and determinedly removed her hands from it. "Anyways, I'm between piloting jobs, so where d'ya need to go?"

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Dathomir." He answered.

"Someone who can outrun Cizerack patrols has my attention. What ship do you fly, missy?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Outside the bar, a homely-looking man found temporary refuge from the cold and biting wind of the lower levels. He crouched in the relative shelter of an alcove near the doorway, drawing his tattered coat tightly around him. He had a grizzled demeanor to him, and his full and unkempt beard contributed to it. However, he was not who he appeared to be.

Ignored by the passers-by on the street, the vagrant chewed a mouthful of zansanar root, and tried to keep warm.

[Arya Ravenwing]

"It's a Chevvette77 freighter. Room in the hold, although it's not set up for passengers." She fingered her puffy black eye as she squinted at him. "But... I could probably squeeze you in the main cabin area. Dathomir, huh?"

She found herself slightly amused at what she guessed was false bravado coming off this young man. He called me 'missy?'

[Loki Ahmrah]

"That's right, Dathomir."

Taking on a more secretive approach, Loki leaned in close, his elbow on the table. He gave a quick glance to everywhere but Arya then met her bruised eye with a look of urgency.

"Look, whatever we do has to be kept quiet. I can give you a small percentage of your pay now and the rest will be presented to you in full once the job is done. And believe me, your pocket book will love you if you take the job on. What do you say?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She had to resist openly grinning at his glancing about. Checking to see if anyone was listening was a sure fire way to get people who weren't paying attention to your conversation to try to listen in. Unfortunately, the ales she'd consumed tricked her and she grinned anyway.

Arya leaned in as well, and half-whispered, "Well, I need to know amounts before I say yes. Just how much will my pocket book love me?" She could use some extra cash - all she'd earned working for Dan had gone to fixing the huge hole in her cockpit that the Cizerack fighter-grappler had punched in it. Hey, she'd outrun most of the fighters.

[Loki Ahmrah]

"How much?" Loki repeated, he scratched what little stubble he had on his chin.

"Easily one-point-two. This depends, of course, on the condition of the cargo we will be bringing back with us from Dathomir. You... don't mind there being a little hush-hush transport involved, do you?"

He smiled. "You did say you had room in the hold, after all."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She sat back. One-point-two? As he mentioned bringing something back from Dathomir, she held up one cautionary finger. "If you want me to transport a rancor back to be your pet, you'll have to give me more up front. My hold isn't strong enough to hold one of those. Other than that - let's just say hush-hush transport is one of my specialties."

[Loki Ahmrah]

"I'm glad to hear it. The cargo will be easy enough to store and transport."

Loki took a moment to swallow back more ale, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at Arya. His foot started tapping nervously again.

"Look, I'll be blunt, I can't offer you a great deal of credits up front. No more than twenty thousand, in fact. I know this is a small amount in comparison to the stated pay but that is why failure is not an option on this mission. And there's one more thing-"

Loki paused, steeling his nerves and relaxing his face. He looked at Arya with the uttermost seriousness.

"Are you capable of handling yourself... in combat?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Even twenty thousand seemed worth it to get away from Dan for a week. Arya's good eye twinkled with alchohol-induced good humor, and she lounged against her chair. "My face aside, I could put you over my knee and give you a good spanking if I wanted to."

Arya, probably not what you want to say to prospective clients. "Ah, that is, yes. I've taken out two Cizerack who wanted to end my life, and if you know anything about those hairless cats, you'd know that's not easy."

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Cizerack, eh?" Loki said. A distinctive pink glow had been in his cheeks ever since Arya's spanking reference. He took the glass in his hand once more, his knuckles were white.

"Heck, you must be pretty tough."

A few long gulps of ale followed, all the while, his eyes flittered here and there. Looking at nothing in particular. When he planted his glass down at last, he stared at the table for a moment, drumming his fingers against the wood. An awkward silence followed.

"Erm-" He looked up and cleared his throat. "Ahem! So, how long will you need to get ready?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya nodded in agreement of his assessment. Yeah, I am tough. She joined him in swigging back ale, and licked some errant foam off her lips as he posed his final question. "How soon can I be ready? Well, how quickly can you get me those twenty-thousand credits? All my stuff's in my ship, and we can go right now."

She drained the last of her ale, and looked regretfully at the empty tankard, wondering if she had time for another. Her stomach rumbled ominously, and she decided that she'd probably had enough.

[Loki Ahmrah]

"I can grab those credits and be back within twenty minutes." He answered, happy to be talking business. His seat slid back with a dull scraping and he stood.

"Right! I'll meet you back at your ship." He gave Arya a nod and turned, took two steps and stopped. He turned and faced Arya once more.

"Where abouts is your ship?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Ah! My ship is at ... well it isn't far really. Walking distance." Arya pointed up. "Docking pad 349, Coco District." Pushing away from the table also, she got to her feet. "Twenny minutes then."

The smuggler took two steps forward, and then her ankles and legs slid to the side and she staggered, catching herself on the nearest object, which happened to be her young employer. She clutched at his shirt for balance, and righted herself. "Right, twenty minutes then at pad 493." She didn't seem to notice the discrepency in her numbers, and made it to the door under her own power.

Once outside the Nabooian Queen, Arya leaned against the wall, letting the artificial stone seep it's coolness into her cheek.

[Loki Ahmrah]

He watched her stagger outside and frowned. His chronometer beeped and he checked the time, it was 3:40am. Somehow, wearing a hooded cloak felt unnatural in a place such as the Nabooian Queen so he waited until he was in the dripping doorway before pulling the thick cloth over his head.

He turned away from Arya, she didn't seem to be aware of him or the rain rolling down her face and through her hair. It was a cold night. The pavement made a dull thud under his heavy boots as he walked away. Then he hesitated and following a moments silence, he winced a defeated sigh and turned reluctantly to the drunk woman.

"Cocoa District, you say?"

He threw her arm around his shoulders and wrapped his around her waist then pulled her away from the wall.

"I think I know the fastest route but if I'm wrong, correct me."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She groaned as he pulled her away from the wall, but was evidently quite content to let him support her weight as she leaned on him. "I can get there ... by myself." They walked forward together, and she pointed down a side alley. "There's th' turbolifts to the uppers."

The young man didn't stumble under her weight as he helped steer her body in the right direction. Once inside the 'lift, she untangled herself from his helping arms, and leaned in a corner of the rectangular 'lift. She was dripping wet, and hadn't managed to get her jacket done up before going outside. Of course, it wasn't every day that it rained hard enough topside to get some in the lower levels. This is gross... I'll have to take a shower to get this gunk off me. As she thought about it - the water could have come from anywhere, not just rain.

"'sgusting."

[Loki Ahmrah]

"That's right." Loki agreed, leaning back against the lift. He kept his eyes fixed on the grey doors in front of him while Arya assessed the damage.

"By the time rain gets down this far it might as well be mud."

He pulled his hood back and sighed. "Not exactly refreshing and pleasant, unlike the rain back home."

He looked at her, his eyes narrowed against the glaring artificial light.

"Where are you from?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Teka nona se Ryloth." She wriggled her eyebrows, "I was raised on Ryloth. Dark there." The turbolift noisily clicked away the levels as they traveled upwards.

Arya stood up straight suddenly, and stuck her hand out at him. He may or may not have flinched away, she didn't notice. "M'name's Arya Ravenwing."

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Loki." He replied, suprised by the introduction. "Loki Ahmrah."

He shook her hand and smiled, inwardly wondering how it had not occured to him that they hadn't exchanged names already. Part of him wished he had answered her question in the Ryloth tongue. He leaned back. The metal of the lift trembled against his back as the lift rattled upwards.

"I've always wanted to go to Ryloth." He blurted whimsically, now staring at his shimmering wet boots.

"Five red moons above, ryll mines below, eternal darkness on one side of the planet, raging heatstorms on the other, nine hour days. It's like nowhere I've ever been to before. And Twii'leks..."

He looked across to Arya and gave her a weary smile. "Twii'leks are cool. How long did you live there for?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Had she been sober, Arya would have guarded her tongue about where she came from and what her background was. She wasn't sober, however, so she only leaned back into the corner of the 'lift, and answered his question. "Born an' raised there. It isn't all that romantic though, kid. Schools aren't all that great for females, either, unless you want to learn dance."

She winked rougishly, "I did take a few lessons, they've come in handy from time to time." Before the conversation could take a turn for the worse, the 'lift stopped, and a bell dinged. She belatedly pulled herself from the wall, and headed for the opened doors. "Looks like our stop."

Once outside the turbolift, Arya paused, swaying slightly from side to side. Then she abruptly turned right and started walking, only to lose her balance. Her body pitched to the side, and she put out her hands to catch herself about a second too late.

[Loki Ahmrah]

She fell into Loki's arms. She'd hardly moved before he'd caught her and now he was righting her and securing his hand around her waist once more. He thought about this woman piloting a ship in her current state, he wouldn't say anything to her about it though, it would probably get ugly.

"Watch yourself, Arya. Carry on like this and we wont make it to the ship."

They moved on rather sluggishly.

"Now I'm finding myself wondering: what is it you called your ship?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She felt content to let him carry most of her weight, and she was fairly heavy for such a slim looking woman, but she tried to keep them heading in the right direction. "Whaddai call it? M' ship's called The Wing of the Raven, and she's... beyootiful."

They staggered along a few more steps, and then she directed them into a hallway between docking ports. "Here we go, look ... look for 943." Loki was pretty strong, and Arya unconsciously let a hand feel along his shoulder. "Oh, wait, I think we passed it!"

She pushed off from him again, and stumbled back a few paces. "Yeah, here we are." She tapped on the door with a hand that seemed a bit blurry. "Four thirty-nine, just like I said." The smuggler fumbled in her jacket for the keycard the tech had given her, and cursed. "Krasst, where is it?"

The woman shrugged out of the jacket, exposing her leather shoulder rig and holstered blaster, and started shaking the nerfhide jacket out, trying to get the keycard to fall out.

[Loki Ahmrah]

"The keycard?" Loki asked with a grin.

His hand dipped inside his cloak and from somewhere in his robes produced Arya's keycard. He looked at the door and double-checked the card, then handed it to the pilot.

"Docking Pad Three Four Nine: just like you said." He smiled and closed in on Arya in case she stumbled any further.

"You gave me the keycard for safe keeping. Don't you remember?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She gave him a blank look, carefully put her jacket back on, and snagged the card out of his hand. The little bastard kept moving his hand back and forth to try to keep it from her, but she got it, and soon the door was open.

The berth was not well lit, which was fine, because the Chevette77 wasn't all that much to look at from the outside. Well, not the inside either, unless you knew where to look. Arya disengaged the Wing of the Raven's security protocols to let down the gangplank and let her inside (thankfully the voice recognition still worked when she was slurring her words) and then they entered the freighter. After that, things got a little fuzzy.

Arya opened her eyes blearily, and groaned as consciousness returned. She was lying on her bunk, feet on the pillow, fully clothed and hung over like all the demons of the hells had partied in her brain. Her tongue was dry and stuck to the roof of her mouth. Water... Better yet - more beer. She sat up slowly, groaning louder as the pounding in her head increased. As did the nausea in her stomach.

After a quick dive into the 'fresher for a vomit session, Arya rinsed out her mouth and made her way to the main cabin through the passage. She vaguely remembered her young employer dumping her into her bunk and saying he would be right back. Something about getting the money. Alarmed, she checked the hatch - it was closed, but the security system had not been engaged. Loki - Loki? Was that his name? - had been smart enough not to try locking up in case he'd be back before she woke up. Being turned into paste because the aft guns thought you were trying to break in would ruin anyone's day.

Her fingers activated the door lock, and she sniffed deeply. Caf? Her nose led her (slowly and carefully so she didn't make her headache worse) into the 'living' area and kitchenette.

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Good morning."

Loki looked up from pouring a cup of coffee and smiled.

"You didn't mind me making myself comfortable here, did you? I didn't really have anywhere to stay last night. Here."

He passed her a cup and returned to his own drink.

"How are you?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She took the cup, noticed he was drinking out of her hangover mug, and grumped slightly as she took a seat. "Talk a little quieter, and we'll get along better. My head feels like it's gonna split down the middle." Arya sipped at the caf, found it to be better than what she usually brewed, and eyed him over the rim of the mug.

"I don't mind you getting comfy here as long as you brought the money." She raised one eyebrow for emphasis.

[Loki Ahmrah]

"It's in the case next to you."

Loki spoke quieter than before and nodded to a styroplast briefcase sitting on the breakfast bar. His smile faded fast and he gulped at his coffee. He eyed the briefcase for a moment, then with reluctance, said, "Twenty thousand, as we agreed."

He looked up expectantly, hoping to find Arya more cheerful.

"Do you want something for your headache?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She waved off his question, reaching for the case and plunking it on the table. With two careful movements she had it open and eyed the credits within. The chits within were all programmed to managable amounts, about a hundred creds per chit. Made for a satisfyingly heavy briefcase. Pleased, Arya clicked the case shut, and eyed Loki again. She still wasn't exactly smiling.

"Okay, well, if you're all set, I'll start pre-flight." She picked up the case as she got to her feet, leaving the half full cup of caf on the table. Not waiting for an answer, the smuggler winced her way out of the lcabin, and back down the passage to her private quarters. She stowed the case in a safe spot, locked the door, and went back up the passage towards the cockpit.

As she passed the cabin, she poked her head inside, and thought about smiling. It didn't quite happen. "If you can make yourself useful, get my droid out of the cargo bay. There's a ladder at the end of the passage that leads down into it." She eyed the caf on the table, and went in to get it.

Rubbing her temples, she grouched to the cockpit and set her mug on the console. Eyes closed against the light that was streaming in through the transparisteel, she ran her hands over the controls and started the pre-flight check.

[Threepio]

He'd been left for days - days - in the dark hold of the Wing of the Raven. Again. He understood that Arya didn't like taking him out on the town ("They don't allow droids where I'm going."), but it was getting insulting.

He'd powered up once daily to see if she'd come back, but it had been three days without word this time. Of course, he was supposed to be keeping watch over the ship, but it was hard to do that from the cargo bay. After all, there was only a small console in the back wall and it only controlled the airlock. Which she'd instructed him not to open.

Threepio supposed he should be grateful that she'd filled up the oil bath for him before leaving, although she'd grumbled the whole time that he was an outdated hunk of junk and not worth the credits to upkeep. He'd run several diagnostics on himself while Mistress Arya had been away, and noticed a small irregularity in his memory cortex which seemed irreperable. It affected old memories, but with the way his existance was going now, what had happened in the past had probably been worse, and not worth remembering in the first place.

The door to the rest of the ship opened, and after a moment the lights to the bay flicked on. Threepio started tottering towards the ladder to greet Mistress Arya, "Thank the Maker you've come back, Mistress Arya. Oh... who are you?"

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Hello." Loki smiled at the inquisitive protocol droid.

"I'm Loki Ahmrah. I've been asked by Arya to come for you, we're working together for the time being. Sorry to have startled you."

[Threepio]

Finally, someone with some manners! "At last someone remembers me. I don't know how I put up with it, always being left in corners and in holds."

The droid made his way towards the newcomer. "I am C-3PO, human/cyborg relations. I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, including Verpine and twi'lek sign language. If there is any way I can be of assistance I assure you I will do my best."

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Threepio." Loki said, grinning. He was amused at the thought of something trying to communicate using Twii'lek sign language without any lekku.

"And there is something you can do, not for me but for Arya. She needs you and I'm sure you'll be happy to see her. Shall we head up to cockpit?"

[Threepio]

"Certainly." He cocked his head to one side in an almost human gesture, and made his way towards the ladder. He wasn't made for ladders, and so Mistress Arya had fashioned a mechanical pulley system that could be used to bring the droid up to the main level of the ship. "I must say, sir, it is good to finally have someone polite to talk to."

A few minutes of struggle to get from one deck to the other, and then the droid and Master Ahmrah were in the main passage heading towards the cockpit. As they walked Threepio chattered on about a dialect of Gamorrean he'd discovered recently and was quite fascinated with. The ships engines roared to life, and Mistress Arya's voice came over the intercomm, "Loki, if you haven't gotten Goldenrod out of the hold, it's too late. We've got clearance to leave and I'm taking it."

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Goldenrod?" Loki stood in the doorway to the cockpit, smiling.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I got wrapped up in an interesting talk about Gamorrean dialects."

He stepped forward and took a good look at all the switches and controls and lights and monitors. His arm rested on the free seat and he leaned forward, arresting Arya's attention.

"I can co-pilot, you know."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She looked sideways at him. "Just don't touch anything." Threepio was putting on his restraints in the living quarters and complaining about conversations being interrupted. Luckily he was far enough down the passage that she could barely hear him.

Arya had her restraints fastened, but she didn't remind Loki to do the same as she brought the ship off the landing pad and out into the Coruscant morning. After they were out of the atmosphere and heading to the jump point, she looked at him again. "Gamorrean dialects?"

[Loki Ahmrah]

When the ship took flight, Loki stumbled and quickly pulled himself into his seat. The restraints clicked shut and he glanced across at Arya.

"Just something Threepio was telling me about. Said he'd been mulling over it in your absence and would apparently burst if he didn't tell someone about it."

He laughed. "I bet he gives you a hell of a time! Hence the Goldenrod, right?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Yeah, something like that." Arya pedaled the rudders and the ship turned more tightly than seemed probable and headed at full sublights towards their jump point. "When he's not telling me the odds of survival. Apparently I'm quite lucky."

She offered him a genuine half-smile for the first time that morning. "Something to be happy about - you've picked a lucky pilot."

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Well, from what I've seen, luck gets people far these days."

He leaned forward and stared out of the viewport curiously. The engines hummed powerfully, it was distracting at first but like with all space travel, the sound of engines becomes the natural background noise. He sat back in his seat.

"Let's hope it gets us all the way to Dathomir and back. It's no short trip. How long will take to get there in this ship?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She eyed the star chart she had draped over one part of the console. "It's going to take about two weeks. Hope you brought your toothbrush."

Before he could say anything else, she punched it and the Wing of the Raven slid into hyperspace. As the swirls of another dimension mottled the transparisteel window in front of them, she undid her restraints and stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get some more caf."

Arya walked a little unsteadily back towards the living area and beelined for the caf pot.

[Loki Ahmrah]

Loki followed her, already feeling restless.

"So, what do you usually do for two weeks?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She made an exasperated face to the pot in her hand, but didn't turn around. "I usually keep to myself and don't talk much. And Threepio is great company." Arya poured the caf into her mug, and knocked it back like a shot of whiskey.

Setting it down again, she indicated the dejerrik board. "And I play that. But not with the droid, because he cheats."

Threepio sputtered, "Miss Arya, I must protest! I follow every rule to the exact letter!"

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Is that a Dejerrik board?" Loki frowned, and paced across the room. He sat down.

"You'll have to teach me to play sometime."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She snorted. "Yeah, maybe."

-------

"No, no, no!" Arya threw her hands up in the air. "I give up! You're quite possibly the worst dejerrik student I have ever taught!" She was imitating the inflections of an aged twi'leki martial arts instructor, and Loki was hard pressed to keep a straight face, let alone play the game correctly.

"If you use the Corellian Gambit, you lay open the whole left flank of your pieces, and I can simply do... this..." she moved a piece with exaggeration, "and I begin the Emperor's Solution that will ultimately decimate everything you have left!"

Loki eyed the board. "But can't I just -"

"No!"

" - Or could I move this -"

"No!" She looked horrified. "There is nothing you can do that I have not anticipated already! You might as well surrender!"

Threepio piped up, "Actually, Master Loki, you can unravel the Emperor's Solution in the thirty-fourth and fifth moves by placing your -" Arya threw her empty plastic tumbler at him, and the droid subsided.

[Loki Ahmrah]

"Let's just be thankful that it wasn't the hyperdrive that bit the dust."

From the dark opposite end of the room there came a grunt. Loki sat patiently on the icy floor and listened to Arya furiously at work: there was a buzzing followed by a few quiet blips, then a whirring sound which preceded a high-pitched whine. The ships lights came to life once more.

"Phew! At last!" Loki sighed and gave Arya a look of relief. Her face was was covered in dust, and her eyes had two huge white rings around them where she had been wearing her goggles. Her hair was brushed back haphazardly and her fingers were black with oil. She looked extremely nerffed off.

"Has that ever happened before?" Loki asked, slumped in a corner.

"Once or twice." Arya said as she threw her goggles to one side and ran a hand through her hair. She paused in shock. Loki's mouth hung open.

"Dren!"

She looked down at her hands, grabbed the closest thing to her and threw the hydrospanner across the room.

"Frelling Sithspit!"

"I see you went for the slick look."

"Shut up! Just..." Despite the quiet fury evident in her pink cheeks, she calmed. "... I need to hit the fresher."

A fountain of sparks then exploded from the panel next to Loki and he dived out of the way. The whining sound subsided and the lights cut out again. For a moment, they sat in silence until there came a quiet clinking of metal feet against the deck floor and in the darkness, appeared two bright yellow eyes.

"Oh dear! Mistress Arya, is everything quite alright?"

"Watch it, Goldenrod." She hissed. "There are some panels missing in the floor."

"Mistress Arya, I assure you my mechanical parts allow me to navigate such dangers with exceptional eeeeeeeeeaaaaaase!"

There was an almighty crash.

"Ow!"

"Master Loki! Oh my, I'm frightfully sorry."

"...my eye...."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya slapped the intercomm on the console. "Ahmrah, you might want to be here for this." She flicked it off with another touch, and took her feet off the co-pilot's chair as the timer clicked down the final minute of hyperspace.

Her employer, a bright eyed kid of barely eighteen, if that, appeared in the doorway. He was sharp, noticing the countdown right away. "I thought you said two weeks? We've only been in hyperspace for eleven days." He plopped into the seat her feet had vacated, and buckled in. She didn't.

"Yeah, well I padded the time, just in case. Luckily it was just the lights that went out two days ago, not life support or the inertial dampers." He paled a bit at the thought of inertial dampers going out while they were in hyperspace, but she kept talking. "So, we're here." Arya gripped the yoke with one hand as the timer stopped clicking, and hyperspace evaporated from around the Chevvette77 freighter. Ahead of them glistened Dathomir, like a green jewel set on a black velvet pillow that had been sprinkled with corusca gems.

She studied the sensors, and shook her head. "I thought Dathomir was pre-hyper - I've got readings on some pretty sophisticated eqiupment in the northern hemisphere*."

Ahmrah shook his head, "Shouldn't bother us, we're heading south. Can you put us down near this mountain?" He dialed a pair of coordinates into the navigational computer.

Arya eyeballed the digital cartograph the system brought up. "Sure, kid. Looks to be on the other side of the planet from our current position." She manuevered the steering rudders with her feet, heading towards the night side of Dathomir. "Something special there to meet us? Ahmrah?"

He was quiet, not quite tense, but intense as he studied the planet below them. Arya stared at him, and her minds eye flared, giving her a picture of the planet that overlaid the one she saw in front of her. It seemed to be a living, breathing entity - full of life and of the living. With a restrained gasp she shook away the vision, the Wing of the Raven slipping into the shadow of the planet.

Twenty minutes later they were in the atmosphere of the jungle planet, setting down in the deeper shadow of a large peak in a ragged range of mountains. The smuggler shook her head slowly, and turned to the kid. "Y'know that the people here are matriarchal, right? Like the Cizerack?"

*occupied by the witches in league with the Sith Order, unbeknownst to our heroes.