Precious Cargo

[Denoel Quane]

Cruising from the lower bowels of Cloud City, the Action VI freighter cut through the heavy, white cloud cover as Denoel and her copilot, Colin, guided the large ship toward open space. Passing the occasional freighter or container ship, the pirates masquerading as contracted cargo haulers hurried to get their first job for the Black Sun done. Brown eyes bounced from the controls and to the wide open blue which soon began to fade, the turbulence of an atmosphere soon relenting to the world's ionosphere.

"Coordinates set," Colin stated, transferring the jump point to her main computer and within moments they were away, tiny pinpricks of light bursting into a morass of bluish white light.

"Three days," she mentioned, switching the controls to autopilot, leaving the ship in the hands of their course to Ord Cantrell. Turning in the chair, she unbuckled herself. "So, go ahead," she stated, hands knitted together in her lap.

Glancing to her initially as if he had no idea what she was talking about, he soon relented and grinned, shaking his head. "You know me too well, woman."

"Strike one."

A comment that gained his full attention as he stood up, moving toward the exit. "How do you know we're not transporting a rigged thermal detonator that's gonna blow the minute we hand it off?"

"I don't."

Turning to face her, now filling the doorway's frame. "And you're okay with that?"

"Yep."

Hands on hips, he eyed her for a long moment. "Sometimes I don't get you."

Pushing herself up, she neared him, "Don't have to, we just have to do the job and get paid. What's simpler than that?" Jabbing him in the stomach with her forefinger, he soon stepped aside and let her leave the cockpit. "You trying to be our moral compass or something? Think I'll have Egil check you out for any newly developed mental issues. Space dementia perhaps."

"I'm fine," Colin defended as they began moving down the rounding stairwell toward the galley's entrance.

"Sure?" Hearing the medic's voice in the galley with Dirk, she smiled to herself as she stepped into the galley. "Egil, you may need to give Colin here an enema."

Turning to them as the pair entered the brighter galley, the medic eyed the copilot. "Okay," he nodded, then rose.

"Wait a second," Colin backed up, hands out. "She's kidding."

"No, won't take but a few minutes. Come on," Egil continued as Baldor chuckled.

Moving to Denoel's side as she poured herself a cup of tea, Colin touched her on the arm. "You know, sometimes they don't know when you're kidding."

Calling from the doorway, "Colin, come on or I'll have Dirk drag you in here. You need a physical anyway. Overdue."

"Had one at the station, yesterday," Colin moved to the refrigeration unit and opened the door.

"Oh? What was the doctor's name?"

"Crystal," Colin replied distractedly.

Baldor laughed, "You mean the exotic dancer that I saw you with? Don't think that's the kind of examination he's talking about."


****


Once the hyperdrive notified the crew that they were just minutes out from their destination, everyone moved to their battle stations not knowing what to expect when they arrived. Stepping into the cockpit, Denoel and Colin both plopped into their highbacked chairs and began buckling themselves in. Going through the manual switchover, Denoel then grabbed the yolk as their view returned to pinpricks of light broken up by the nearby world of Ord Cantrell. Light traffic greeted them as did a Customs frigate.

"Standard greeting for these guys," she relayed to the crew, the com suite open to everyone's suite.

"Hope they're friendly," Dirk's normally quiet, serious voice stated.

[Grym Kandle]

The officer sat forward in his chair aboard the Customs frigate.

"Well? What's the manifest?"

"Nothing, Sir. Well, scanners picked up one thing."

"And?"

The screen suddenly went bright blue, white text trailing across it. The customs agent sighed and shrugged,

"Blue screen, Sir. It'll be a minute before its up and running again."

The officer turned to the other agent,

"What's the auxiliary got?"

"Just turned it on, Sir. Got nothing. Business stated is that they're here to stop in for a possible trans job and then jump out."

The officer frowned, leaning back in his chair, fighting his frustration with the 'blue screen' incident. If they wanted him to do his job, they had better give him the right equipment to do it.

"Alright, pass them along. And get that primary scanner up and running."

"Aye aye, Sir."

On board, Denoel's ship received the all clear from the Customs frigate. A incoming message hit her subspace comms system almost at the same time.

<< PROCEED TO DOCKING BAY 955 AT SATELLITE PORT CANTRELL RHO. MEET LYNLE AT PUB 955 FOR LINK UP.>>

[Denoel Quane]

"Acula, you're cleared to proceed," the frigate's communications officer relayed, his voice crisp and authoritative.

As they got the good news, Denoel felt her comlink buzz and picked it out of the jacket pocket and glanced at the message, giving her the information that she had been waiting for. Nodding to herself, she dropped the white device back into the pocket and continued flying the freighter. "De-Purteen, cantina," she relayed to the crew. "Sounds like it's going to be in the starport itself."

"Short drop off then," Egil stated over the comm.

"Doesn't mean we won't have to go through customs," Colin reminded, blue eyes turning to Denoel. "How we going to explain that box?"

"Already taken care of," she assured, grinning as she had already packed it away knowing that Grym had made sure she understood how fragile it was. Continuing on to the world's surface, the copilot soon read more to the navicomputer's information on their destination.

"Resort hub for Imperial wealthy, says here," Colin mused aloud. "Too bad we're not going to be here a while."

"Still need that shield generator," Amund reminded, hope in his voice.

"We've also been told that we have to hit five ships in Hutt space, which means there's no time for sightseeing," Denoel wished they had more time, but the clock was already ticking. Soon, the Acula set down on the appointed landing pad and everyone got ready to take care of their individual tasks when at port. Rising, Denoel moved from the cockpit and headed to her stateroom, grabbing her black duffel bag full of clothes and personal items, the box hidden within her feminine products. Leaving the room, she headed for the rampway, now open to the cooler, evening air.

[Grym Kandle]

Pub 955 was the most boring address title the Empire could assign to something. The populace, at least the long term residents, had long ago called it the Back Door Bar as it was known for hosting to most of the populace that worked at the resort hub, rarely enjoying the pleasures they sustained. Sergeant Bolor Lynle nursed his usual drink, one of the leads to the resort security team. His cap was tipped back on his head and his padded jacket undone, airing out for the late afternoon before he went back on night shift. He checked his chronometer on the panel built into his right, prosthetic arm. A message flashed across the time, as if someone knew he was looking just then.

<< DENOEL INBOUND. BLACK DUFFEL ><she is="" in="" bound.="" black="" duffel.="">>

</she>Lynle snorted, bringing his glass back up. Bossy messages from someone obviously spying on him. He knew it was too good to be true, the arm, the debts paid. Now he found himself like one of those puppets in the kid's shows, moving to the remote controls of the puppet master. He glanced over his shoulder, not seeing anyone with a black duffel, snorting again before returning to his drink.

[Denoel Quane]

Making her way through the security check, the guards taking their sweet time inspecting nearly everything that came through the scanning station, she finally grabbed her leather bag and shouldered it once again. Intrusive as Imperials usually were, she knew that this delay was inevitable and nodded to Amund and Dirk as the trio parted ways. "See you guys back at the ship in a bit."

"Sure you don't want me to come with you," Dirk asked, his typical cold demeanor seemingly more thawed when in port.

"I'll be fine," she grinned as they walked. "What's the worse that could happen?" A comment that garnered their stares and prompted a smile. "I have you guys on speed dial, so relax and go get our supplies."

Reluctantly, the pair veered toward the left and line of shops and offices to schedule their resupply and hopefully get some other spare parts that had been needed for a while now. Slowing as she neared an information kiosk, Denoel stepped up to the protocol droid standing behind the small desk.

"How may I help you, ma'am," the dutiful greeting as the silver droid's feigned cheerfulness seemed part of their programming.

"Looking for the Pub Nine Fifty-Five."

"Oh, yes," the droid motioned to a holographic layout of the starport, then moved the scene to the far right and near the front of the east wing. "It's located here," it motioned as the fair sized establishment blinked yellow. "Owned, by...."

"Thanks." Walking to her right, she knew more than enough and didn't need the history of the pub or who bought or blackmailed who. She had to make a delivery and the faster this could get done, the better. Meandering through foot traffic, down the long, open concourse, she glanced from shop to restaurant to office and recognized the same rigid organization that seemed to be normal for every port and city ruled by an iron fist. Regardless of how they wanted to paint that picture, she had seen enough to know the truth. But, she was here to make a credit and that was all that was important. Soon, brown eyes found the sign to the pub and though she had high hopes, the interior was a bit disappointing for some place being part of the starport. Sighing, she slowed and scanned for her contact, having only a name.

[Grym Kandle]

Lynle tapped the bar for another drink. How long did he have to sit here waiting for a black duffel bag? He sighed in frustration, glancing over his shoulder again before seeing a woman who was standing there, metaphorically mouth breathing with a black duffel over her shoulder.

"Dren."

He waved off the drink that the bartender was bringing over with a grimace as he swiveled on the stool. He zipped his uniform back up over his slight beer belly, and stood up, stretching his legs. He pulled his hat down a bit, checking to make sure that the Resort Security symbol was still there. He swaggered a bit over to brown eyes with the bag,

"Miss, need help with something?"

[Denoel Quane]

Slowly entering the pub, Denoel kept her eyes and ears open for any sign of this guy and knew right off she was going to torture the name she had been given. Someone loved tongue twisters, she mused. Soon after, a disheveled, overweight man in uniform approached and gave the pirate a moment of pause. "Yeah, looking for a guy named Lyn'lor.... something. Friend wanted me to deliver something to him." Wondering now if this was the contact after all, she hesitated before pushing past him.

[Grym Kandle]

A couple of the regulars turned to glance at the two and Sergeant Lynle made a dour face before he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah? Weird name, never heard of him. What's in the bag?"

He reached out, half pointing to it with mild interest, as if he wanted to inspect it on general suspicion. Had to get her out of here where she might try to say his name again. His name tape on his uniform didn't read anything like whatever she had just tried to say. If anything, he was a little offended.

"If you're here on vacation, you're in the wrong dive, lady. C'mon. Let's take this outside. These people don't need tourists in here bothering their peace for the day."

[Denoel Quane]

Backing a step, the pirate shrugged off his hand, her brow furrowed lightly. His invitation to step out into the hallway once more wasn't exactly what she had expected, but if he wanted trouble she had just arrived. Acquiescing, Denoel retreated back into the lightly busy concourse finally noticing his name on the tag on the jacket's breast pocket. Chiding herself quietly, the brunette kept ahold of the bag over her shoulder until she could verify his identity, though as she read the name and realized she had totally butchered it worse than intended, her demeanor relaxed a bit.

"You have an office or something? Somewhere we could talk?" And hopefully be able to hide the body if he wasn't who she was here to meet.

[Grym Kandle]

Only using half his mouth as if his next words were only meant for her,

"Yeah, yeah. But I'm not walking in there with you running this sideways. So play the part and turn around..."

He pulled his stun gun on her. It was a resort and when serious dren went down, they didn't call the resort security, they called the storm troopers. The stun gun was mostly for show, Lynle used it to scare naked teenagers out of the pool after pool hours were closed. So much louder than likely needed to be,

"Alright, lady. I don't trust those shifty eyes. Gimme' the bag, lets go. To the station."

The few tourists walking by gawked from a distance but as they neared, they tried not to look as if the security guard might rope them into it. The casual citizen feared the Empire just that much that it was not worth testing the bounds of their bureaucracy. Not like Sergeant Lynle even had handcuffs to begin with though.

[Denoel Quane]

Denoel didn't have to act angry as he pulled the facade of her being arrested, though if she was to finish this particular part of the mission she had to play along. Reluctantly handing him the bag, she turned and began walking, though watched the crowd for either Dirk or Amund which she didn't need right now, but if they were to see this perhaps that would work in her favor. Feeling the barrel on the small of her back, she kept it mentally tagged as they moved. Onlookers taking notice as they passed, no doubt wondering what she was being wanted for.

Keeping her hands to her sides, "If you're planning on crossing those that I work for, I hope you have a great exit strategy otherwise it's going to be a short life." In truth, there was nowhere he could run and truly escape the Black Sun who had their fingers in nearly everything across the galaxy.

[Grym Kandle]

"Hey, lady, you got the right to remain silent. We're almost there, dren. Keep your pants on, alright?"

They made it to the resort security office, which was a one office complex built into the side of a welcome center. He unlocked the door, dropping the gun and motioning inside. The inside was about as sad as could be expected but there was a cell for troublemakers in there. Usually only drunks that needed to sleep the night off and pay the small fee, which wasn't officially real, to get out. Once inside, he locked the door behind her, then tossed the duffel on the desk as he walked around to the other side and took a seat. With a sigh, glancing at the bag and then her.

"You Denoel, or is there some other way I should butcher your name too?"

He looked away to activate up his console, the holoscreen coming to life. He started up the OS, but halfway through, as per instructions, held a key down. The screen flashed for a moment and then the console abruptly shut down on its own.

"I'm assuming the package is in there?"

He raised his eyebrows, indicating the bag.

[Denoel Quane]

Walking into the office, she then felt a bit relieved as he turned off the tough guy act. Nodding, she watched as he turned on his computer and given the condition of the office, this was apparently some charity that Grym was doing for this loser. "Yeah," she replied and moved to the desk, reaching for the bag's zipper.

"I don't know what you ordered and I don't want to know," she stated as the bag was opened and she then dug through the mess of clothes that the security team left. Grabbing the box of feminine products, she popped it open and took out the package, then set it on the desk in front of him, then returned her things and closed the duffel bag again. Shouldering it once more, she eyed the local cop and waited for him to sign off on the package before leaving. They had freighters to hit soon and her mind was more focused on that rather than this.

[Grym Kandle]

"Hey, hey! Wait! You can't leave yet. The other fellow has to show up and verify its the real deal. How am I supposed to know?"

Lynle was rather distressed. The deal had to go down explicitly as stated or else his role was something along the lines of forfeit. He was already sweating just thinking about it.

"The message was sent, lady. Just sit down for a second, and wait it out. He'll be here soon!"

[Denoel Quane]

Sighing, she hoped he wasn't stalling, but apparently there wasn't going to be any money changing hands until this happened, so she bided her time and moved to a nearby chair, being able to keep an eye on him and the door. Setting her duffel bag on the floor beside her, she sat back. Impatient, the pirate had been treated like this by her father more than once and though she loved the old man, he could also be a pain in her ass when she was younger. They hadn't spoken now for over four years and he wasn't going to like her choice of careers.

Scanning the walls of his office and the small cell through the door to her left, she smelled a lot of things in the air that she would rather not. "You not able to get any cleaning droids in here once in a while?" Or do you just not care?

[Grym Kandle]

Lynle gave a frown. Of all the things... He sighed in slight frustration before standing, going to the trash can like he was going to do something but movement at the nearly opaque window set into the door caught his attention and he quickly forgot about the trash can. He checked his watch for any messages, shuffled over to his desk again, checking the console for any messages, but the console was unresponsive. He wiped sweat from his forehead with his hat before sitting down at the desk again. Should not the subject matter expert already arrived by now? Caught in traffic perhaps? No way to call and find out though.

Something slowly moved past the window this time. Lynle felt in his gut that he'd seen a large eye pressed to the glass, trying to see in. His hand was white-knuckled against the grip of his stun gun.

"You see that?!"

[Denoel Quane]

Watching him drift around his office like a lost pup, her brow furrowed and then she glanced to the small box that he was about to shoot. Seeing his hand go immediately to his holstered weapon, she straightened up in the chair, her left hand now into her jacket and on the shoulder holstered pistol. "What?" Rising, she slowly moved to the side of his desk, peering at the small container which seemed clouded in some mysterious, green-black mist. Sighing, she relaxed as her hand dropped from the hidden weapon. "That's not funny. I was told to keep that safe and not jostle it around, so..."

At that instant, movement within began shaking the whole container and though only millimeters in distance, she jumped back. "What the hell...?" This thing had been in her duffel the whole time? Brown eyes shot to the officer, "Get your contact here now!" Backing to her chair, she grabbed her duffel bag and prepared to leave, though remained at the chair as she had no intentions on seeing that box opened.

[Grym Kandle]

A knock came at the door and just as abruptly, a Duros stepped in. His skin was mottled and one red eye was a duller grey than the other. He made something of a grimace at the two in the room before stepping further inside and closing the door behind him.

"Lynle, miss."

He locked the door behind him, glancing back at it a few times before approaching the table, the small box obviously his intent. Lynle had relaxed significantly in the initial moment and was apparently relieved that the Duros went right to business. He picked it up gently, turning it slow, bringing it close to his face, nearly sniffing at it. As he made an earnest effort of the inspection, he spoke,

"You know that there are two Trandoshans shambling about out there? Took me long enough to get by them hopefully without them noticing..."

He held the box up, as if trying to see the ceiling through it.

"They did not look friendly. Unless they're friends of either of yours?"

[Denoel Quane]

Nearly jumping out of her skin as the door opened, had the Duros not been recognized for what he was, the poor visitor would've ended up dead. Denoel calmed herself, trying her best to put her heart back down into her chest as he approached the desk and began assessing the box. Though his manner of inspection left her wondering what he had intended, and then he spoke.

Her mouth fell open slightly as his observation left her a bit confused. "All I did was what I was told. He never told me what was in it, just to keep it safe and not drop it." Beyond that, he was on his own and all she wanted now was to get paid and leave.

[Grym Kandle]

Lynle was sweating, a lot. The Duros took his bag from his shoulder and withdrew two cred chips, one was white and the other black. He slid the black one on the desk to Sergeant Lynle and set the other one on the desk in front of the woman. He took the black box then and gently slid it in the bag and closed it, carefully ensuring all clasps were done. Without looking up, the Duros continued to speak.

"Well, one of you has to get out there first. I'm not going anytime soon."

Lynle spluttered, listening to the Duros.

"You can't just stay here! This is my-"

"Fine, volunteered then."

The Duros has a pistol in hand suddenly, aimed at the security guard. Not a stun gun either.

[Denoel Quane]

Noticing the chit, she took it and slipped it into her pocket before anyone could blink, then heard the Duros' proclamation which gave her a moment of pause when she noticed him reach for a weapon and fire as the officer disputed his presence. Fool, she mused and hoped that he hadn't planned on killing them both. Left hand instinctively on her shoulder holstered pistol, she moved toward the door and kept her eyes on the owner of the mysterious box. The shot no doubt having gained some attention and the pirate knew that was her queue to leave. Not arguing with the mysterious alien, she pulled the door open and stepped out to the alarmed eyes of several secretaries and other security personnel.

"May need a medic," she warned, acting now as if she had been traumatized. Running toward the far door, "Hurry! Call them!" Using the distraction, several other officers went for their own weapons and rushed toward the door as Denoel disappeared in the chaos. If he was as good as she suspected, the Duros was already gone anyway.

[Grym Kandle]

The trandoshans, tall, nasty lizard-like humanoids watched the woman leave the office as the officers nearby huddled in to find out what she was talking about. The trandoshans slipped into the background, one tailing her, snarling while the other turned down another alley.

The brunette did not get too much further back to her ship before one of the trandoshans stepped out into her path. It snarled something, its claws clicking together. If it had a weapon, it was still holstered, but it was definitely blocking her path back to her ship. Its intentions were unclear beyond a poorly translated aggression. It wore a barely fitting jumpsuit and on its shoulder was a marking of a skull with a tail that wrapped around it in a circle.

[Denoel Quane]

Running for a short distance only to keep up pretenses, she soon slowed her pace to a casual walk, cutting through the foot traffic back through the main concourse and toward the main entrance and security station. Having no idea of what she was about to run into, Denoel soon got that rude awakening as she stopped. Taking in the weaponless alien, known for their hunting skills and lack of mercy to those that they had been sent after, she paused. Keeping her hand on the strap to the duffel bag, the pirate then glanced around to see several other crew members walking by, avoiding getting involved though taking notice of the doomed female.

Sighing, she returned her full attention to the Trandoshan. "I have no idea what you just said, but I'm guessing you work for the Duro? Nod if you understand Aurebesh.... please."

[Grym Kandle]

The reptile leaned in, nodding, its maw pulling in a leering smile to either side. Its claws continued to clack together.

Passersby and bystanders hurried out of the way behind the woman as another Trandoshan appeared behind her. It's tongue slid up to wipe its eye before it gave a throaty kind of laugh.

[Denoel Quane]

Sighing as she felt the warm breath and presence behind her, Denoel chanced a look over her shoulder to confirm her fears. They weren't eating her, so that meant one of two things: either they were wanting her to wait, or hoped their benefactor would be there to witness the mauling. Either way, she was hoping that a familiar face or two would emerge in the sparse crowd, though being outside now she had a better chance of that happening than anywhere else. Brown eyes turned back to the first, sickly green colored, reptilian face, "Are we expecting the Duros then? I don't have anything else that he was after. He already took the item that I was sent to deliver, so if you two are looking for points to appease the Scorekeeper, she's going to be disappointed, I'm afraid."

Yeah, that's right, these two don't think the way you do, Deni.

[Grym Kandle]

The one standing before her tilted it's head, regarding her with one eye, sniffing at the air. The other started to approach from behind. They both suddenly seemed hesitant but only slightly.

This prey made excuses. Trying to trick them. They did not work for the Duros she mentioned. They had wanted the Duros, their real prize, but he had escaped without a trace. Their other hunt mate had determined as much. So they would settle for the alternative. This woman must know something. The Duros escaping with the package was such a loss that something had to be salvaged in regard to their Scorekeeper.

The one behind her reached for her bag first; the other clawed hand reaching for the back of her neck.

[Denoel Quane]

The yank on her bag prompted a defensive maneuver, horrid looking hunter's be damned. Spinning, she let go of the duffel bag and in one swift motion drew her Morellian .48, firing into the chest of the Trandoshan wishing to rob her. Adrenaline now pumping a mile a minute, crewmen dodged and ducked to cover, droids stopped as glowing eyes now looked their way. Dodging backwards once more as she saw his companion go for his own weapon, she aimed and fired at him as well, aiming center mass. That only seemed to piss both of them off which only made her more desperate to kill at least one of them. Firing as she backpedaled, several at the first, then more to the second as the pirate then noticed security personnel now running out from the starport's main hub, guns drawn. Gunfire continued to erupt in explosions, the shapely brunette being the least likely source of such firepower, but the only times she had drawn this beast was to save her own life. Like now.

How in the hell did she get into this mess?

[Grym Kandle]

The trandoshan that the woman had shot at point blank lay on the ground, struggling to keep its chest together. The other ducked out of the way quick enough, sliding out the cylinder attached to its back and hitting the quick release to open up the compact bowcaster, the trandoshan spared not a moment for its huntmate as the woman backed away firing effective, suppressing fires. The guards were paces behind the trandoshan, also taking cover. The trandoshan chuckled huskily, gripping a concussion grenade, five small lights flashing suddenly. The lizard tossed it behind to where the guards were huddled. A break in the woman's firing was the chance the hunter took to break his own cover and advance forward, firing a fuse lade in the direction of the woman, the bowcaster's heavy rounds blowing a pieces of rockcrete and plaster.

[Denoel Quane]

Once the second dodged behind cover, Denoel glanced around quickly for cover and soon noticed a stack of crates not too far to the right and behind. Sprinting as the grenade went off, keeping the security personnel behind what little cover they could find, two having been wounded and now crying out. Diving behind the crates, the shots now arcing her way, slamming into the tarmac and hangar wall far behind her, she knew now was not the time to freeze up. Pulling out her comlink, she dialed in the crew, the open channel being set aside for emergencies.

"I'm four slots from the ship. Need help," she screamed over the shots now drawing closer.

"What the hell's going on," Colin replied, alarmed.

"Just get your asses out here!" Crawling to the far side of the crates, she glanced around quckly and noticed the Trandoshan advancing on her, bowcaster aimed in her direction and fired another shot, holing the upper crate to the left. Arcing out, she pulled the trigger. CLICK.

"Oh, you have...." Heart now pounding a mile a minute, she dodged backward, hastily reloading the heavy firearm, her hands shaking. Now having a better idea where she was, another shot glanced off of the crate she sat behind, kicking up durasteel bits around her. Seconds felt like hours as she quickly moved toward the opposite side, hoping he would leap around to where she had been, one shot now carefully aimed at the corner in the hopes of a heart or head shot. Calming her breathing as best as she could, heartbeat pounding in her ears, she waited.

[Grym Kandle]

The trandoshan held its wounded arm away from the wall it leaned against, holding the bowcaster up. It grabbed another concussion grenade, breathing heavily, and tossed it over the crate. Taking cover from the near proximity. The grenade bounced once, twice...

[Denoel Quane]

Hearing the pound and roll, she knew exactly what that was and immediately dodged away from the possible explosion, keeping the crates between herself and certain death. A bright flash and concussive wave blew everything away from the deafening roar, sending the brunette rolling and sprawling away from the center and where she had just been. Her ears ringing, she tried her best to regain her senses and then realized her pistol was gone. Frantically, she scanned around only to see the weapon on the near side of where the Trandoshan had ducked behind. Scraped and bleeding, she would worry about the aching muscles later.

Adrenaline kicked in as she pushed herself up and sprinted toward it, diving for the weapon just as a large shadow loomed over her...

[Grym Kandle]

The lizard fired a round off where her head should have been had the prey been crouched but it went far over as she dived in. He sighted the next in round but was spun about sharply as two bolts of energy slammed into him. The guards had finally regained enough ground behind them to get back into. The trandoshan took cover from the woman and from the guards, snarling, firing a few other rounds. Where was that other useless clanner? One dead, and the other missing, the trandoshan debated his fight or flight instincts.

[Denoel Quane]

Her eyes focused on the figure now to her right, his large frame nearly awarded him a bullet, but the hairy body of mottled brown and gold told her more than she needed to know as the Wookiee roared his challenge to his arch enemy. Emboldened by the sudden ally, Denoel rose up over the crates in time with her companion, firing into the head of the Trandoshan just as another shot from a bowcaster hit him in the chest. Brown eyes rose to then see two of the Port Authority guards move up, weapons aimed at the fallen alien hunter.

Sighing, she dropped her weapon arm and without thought, hugged the large, hairy savior. "I could kiss you right now."

A softer chuckle erupted from the Wookiee as it patted her on the back, then moved away from the pirate, rounding the crates and barrels as it approached the hunter. Crouching before it, the Wookiee removed the weapon and then quoted something in his own language.

Leaving the victor alone, the uniformed officers then glanced to Denoel as one of them motioned to her forehead. "Should have that taken care of."

Holstering her pistol, she absentmindedly touched the hairline and felt a warmth that wasn't there normally. Lowering her hand, it was covered in blood and the sight of it made her nauseated, her stomach roiling. Fainting, no one was there to catch her either.