Into the Krayt's Den [Grym]

[Madeleia]

Heading up into the main entry of the Auburn Sunrise, Madeleia glanced back to her contact that would be the one ensuring that they passed off this secret cargo to the right people and hopefully help get her and her ship out of Hutt Space without being double crossed. Or worse. Hearing activity in the cargo bay to her left, she led Mick toward it, then motioned to the entry facing them, "Just pick any room beyond the first there," she stated, then continued on into the cargo bay. Her brother supervised the loading droids as they placed not only their supplies and a few spare parts, but the barrels that contained the drugs. Nervous, she tried her best to hide the apprehension that was building inside of her knowing how dangerous this trip was going to be.

"How'd it go," T.J. asked, glancing toward the new addition, then to the ship's captain.

"Fine," she replied distractedly, watching as the four large barrels were put into place, then magnacoupled to the floor plating.

Eyeing her for a long moment, he grinned and patted her on the forearm. "It's going to work out. I have every faith that whatever can go wrong, will, so don't sweat it."

Hazel eyes turned to the mechanic and her copilot. "Thanks for that vote of confidence, there."

Chuckling, he walked from her as the last droid moved from the cargo bay's lowered ramp, then pushed the button to raise it and lock the flooring into the ship. "So, who's the new face?"

"You'll get to meet him shortly, once he's put his things away," she stated, turned and began heading toward the cockpit. Knowing that this mission wasn't going to be an easy one, she felt an uncharacteristic concern for all of them returning alive and being able to talk about it later. Uncle Caton would say that only meant that she wasn't out of her mind after all.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick set the duffel down in the room, opening it to verify its contents, as if at this point it was going to matter if he had forgotten something. The holopic that Mildreth had given him was there at the top which he smirked at before zipping the bag back up and leaving it on the small table. He checked the mirror, his ensuring his hair product was holding his blonde hair slicked back, but for that one stray strand that always seemed to escape. Mick L'ngmyror gave himself a reassuring smile before stepping away and out of the room. He glanced to the left, then right, making sure he had his bearings right before stepping off to where he hoped the cockpit was located.

"Hey hey."

Trying to not be awkward as he announced his presence, unsure who the guy was standing with Madeleia. Putting his right foot forward in a manner of speaking, he extended a hand in greeting.

"Name's Mick. Nice to meet you, friend. Sorry if I interrupted anything."

[Madeleia]

Walking toward the galley, the YT 2400 having it central to the ship's layout, T.J. glanced to the right as their new guest introduced himself, nodding unemotionally. Taking the man's hand, he shook it then let it go. "Interruptions only happen when we screw up, so no worries," he smiled. Continuing on toward the door to Madeleia's room, "My sister didn't call ahead that we were going to have anyone going with us, so you'll have to endure what I stocked in the autochef," the mechanic stated, his hat on backwards and covered up his own straw colored hair, though it's natural tone betrayed by his eyebrows and mottled, thin beard left unshaven for several days.

"So, what do you normally do when not escorting your product," green eyes turned to the equally young man.

[Grym Kandle]

Ah, sister, brother. But they had their own ship. That was pretty nice, all things considered. Mick was lucky if he could get Mildreth out of the house when the sun was out, much less get her beyond the atmosphere. To have their own ship though. The Codger would likely shoot them out of the sky.

"Eh. I'm normally always escorting something, whether I'm the middleman for a deal in town or nearby on Lothal. I've been off world plenty of times but I rarely even visit the planets in the systems we've been to, just meeting in space and making the trade there. I'm surprised we're going down to Nar Haaska actually, but whatever. I'm sure we'll be good."

Mick furrowed his brow, thinking about something for a moment before rejoining the conversation as if he had not skipped a beat.

"But yeah, normally, I'd like to say I play cards, at least that's how I make casual fare. Escorting only happens so often from Lothal, that's for sure."

[Madeleia]

Listening to the newcomer ramble, T.J. nodded. "That's cool and all, but what can you do to help us if anyone jumps us? Know anything about firing a turret weapon? Things like that." He knew that most that had any interest in making money and getting home alive would be skilled at fighting of one kind or another and took in Mick's clothing and any visible weapons on him. "If not, there's a simulator in the turret we got, so make yourself at home when the mood strikes you." Continuing into the main hall, he turned left and soon entered the cockpit as Madeleia was already going through the startup procedure, ready to go apparently. Plopping into the copilot's seat, he fired up the communications suite as well as the sensor computer, ready to get this done himself.

Soon after, they were up and into the hazy sky of Lothal and as it evanesced into the darkness of space, T.J. then began programming the navicomputer. "Going to make several jumps before we get to Nar Haaska."

"Sounds good," Madeleia replied distractedly.

Within moments, they were away as pinpricks of light became a morass of color and allowed Madeleia to switch over to autopilot. Unbuckling herself, she pushed herself up and headed toward the cargo bay.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick was checking the 'vitals' of the cargo he was escorting. To be honest, the manner and approach of the other fellow had put Mick off beat a bit so he figured he'd make himself useful in any other way than the fellow's recommendation. Hadn't even bothered to mention his name. And Mick felt pretty personal about how someone shook his hand. He nursed his off-put ego while holding a data slate that had a diagram of what the sensors on the cargo container should be reading at. The diagram had been drawn by Mildreth in a pink digital marker on a white background and only drew a slight sigh of exasperation out of her brother. He tapped the environmental settings a degree to the right to adjust for space travel and then locked the device.

Bliss. The Codger had explained enough about it. The Codger... Mick had a bad taste in his mouth over the old man anytime his mind had a chance to latch onto the subject. He glanced down to his wrist, pulling the sleeve of his flight jacket further up to the base of his hand anxiously.

[Madeleia]

Noticing Mick in the cargo bay already, Madeleia switched her attention instead to the barrels that were going to raise suspicion during any inspections. "So, that masked to appear like something else, or buried within something else to hide it's scent? I've seen this hidden in plain sight in various ways, so just like to know before we might get boarded," she inquired, glancing to the grandson of their benefactor for this run. Sitting on a crate of spare parts, she set her hands absentmindedly in her lap. She had been able to keep her ship and her ass out of prison this long and hoped to keep that streak alive as long as possible.

"There's plenty of places to stop on the way if we need something else to hide what's inside these." Finally leaning over, she studied the shipping labels on each one and memorized their supposed contents. Having a good cover story was only going to help in the future.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick hastily locked the screen of the datapad lest she notice Mildreth's scrawl as soon as he realized Madeleia was there when she spoke. He turned, patting the cargo container.

"Oh yeah, sure. Six barrels inside. Each barrel has an additional cylinder-like storage unit in it that is surrounded by a material that is supposed to be specially scanned by any Imperial or Alliance crew due to the nature of the contents."

Mick made vague hand motions over it as if trying to help visualize the inside of the container.

"I have the paperwork and credentials for the safe travel of this material out of this sector to Nar Haaska."

He reached into the inside of his flight jacket and produced the lithographic plate of certification.

"Gene-soup. Expensive and delicate stuff. Exposed to the wrong element, even light or slight variations in temperature and the whole stuff is a waste. It requires constant attention, probably check up on it every three hours or so. It's been a solid strategy for moving anything so far."

[Madeleia]

She listened to the plan and how they had buried the drug and hoped that any Sector Rangers weren't going to be in the path of their trip or any other typical specialist that was actively looking for this stuff. Nodding, she believed him as far as the safety of their product, but the old man did mention not being boarded in Hutt Space, so that was going to be the priority apparently.

"Okay, just so I know. Never moved this stuff before," she replied, then pushed herself up and moved toward the cargo bay's entrance and turned right, motioning to the same entrance that he had gone through to grab a room. "The central well here is where the turret is, so get familiar with the gun as often as you can. The simulator program is accessible in the targeting computer." Turning from the cargo bay, she headed into the galley and approached the autochef. Scrolling through the menu she chose a chocolate float as T.J. entered, now engrossed in his datapad.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick could take a hint. Were they comparing notes or something? He hid the slight frustration behind his eyes as he produced the winning smile as she left.

"Thanks..."

He turned back to check the container before rolling his neck and bracing against the container to stretch his back out some. He sighed glancing at the datapad again before tucking it back into his flight jacket's outer pocket. To the turret then, as it seemed to be calling to him for some reason that only the brother and sister seemed to know. He half expected a coordinated trap as he headed to the central well, climbing in. Mick glanced around, just becoming somewhat familiar with it as he'd shot a turret or two in his time but would never have considered himself a gunner of any merit.

The young man found the power switch readily enough to his credit.

[Madeleia]

Removing the float from the autochef, Madeleia scooped the first bite before she noticed that it wasn't chocolate at all, but vanilla. Backing, she glared at T.J. "What's this?"

Blue eyes took in the glass in her hand, then went back to his datapad as he sat down. "Looks like a float to me."

Chuckling with slight frustration. "It would be a chocolate one, but someone forgot that type of ice cream." Sitting down next to him, she set the glass atop the table, sighing.

"Oh, yeah. They didn't have any," he replied distractedly.

"You're such a liar." Sitting back, she raised her legs and plopped them into his lap and began eating and even though it wasn't what she wanted, the taste was still good. Pondering the meeting with the rancher she knew the relationship between him and his two adopted children was strained, but how a child was supposed to relate to their parent wasn't a speciality since she hadn't known her own.

"So," T.J. began after a long silence, "How long you think it'll take him to be able to hit a target?"

"No clue," hazel eyes busied themselves with the float. "He's a great gambler and can handle himself in a fight. Saw that much."

"Hmm," her brother glanced up and grinned. "You like him, huh?"

Her mouth fell open a bit as she returned his gaze. "Wow, really?"

Chuckling, he went back to his task on the datapad.

[Grym Kandle]

The start up prompts were simple enough. Mick pressed the loose strand of blonde hair back against the rest of his gelled scalp before taking a hold of the turret's controls. Like rolling dice. You don't just toss them, you throw them like you meant to and you know that your number's up next. Everyone draws and deals cards at random but not you, you get that, kid? You draw the card you mean to draw, and deal the cards you mean to deal. Mick let go of the handles, pushing his sleeves up his arms to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on his forearms, a single row of numbers on each arm, almost like bar codes. What can you do to help us if someone jumps us? Mick placed his hands back on the handles. Draw the card you mean to draw. His gloves tightened around the handles as the simulator engaged...

The young man climbed out of the central well a bit later, sliding the flight jacket back on that he had taken off halfway through the training. Mick was not sure how long he had been down there and was too hungry at the time to make sense of his chronometer. He made his way to the galley, hopefully able to find something satisfying enough.

Only two other people on the bird and it seemed relatively quiet. Maybe they'd hit the rack already? Maybe this was just how these two lived. Mick could not imagine Mildreth without her holovids blaring from her room at any time of the day. Sometimes he'd take the quiet of this ship over Mildreth's persistent chaos any day.

[Madeleia]

T.J. having gone to sleep already, Madeleia remained in the cockpit just to keep an eye on things as they neared their first jump point and as the countdown began, the smuggler's hazel eyes danced from the hyperdrive controls to the navicomputer and back again. Once the exit was made, she immediately glanced up through the viewport and noticed an empty parsec of space, then she guided the YT 2400 to the next jump point and pulled back the trio of levers, sending them into hyperspace once more. Sighing a relief, she sat back into the high backed chair. Calming herself once more, she pushed herself up and headed from the cockpit, turning right and glanced ahead toward the galley, just beyond the near corner that ended her own suite on the right. Passing the door to her personal quarters, she continued into the galley and noticed their addition.

"Hey," she greeted, moving to the autochef and choosing some water. "Just entered our second jump point, so shouldn't be more than three days now to Nar Haaska." Removing the glass of water, she turned and claimed an empty seat across from him. "How'd you do in the simulator," she inquired then sipped.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick raised his utensil in greeting with a half grin covering a mouthful of food when she arrived. Three days. He should've expected as much. Madeleia sat down in front of him as he finished swallowing before speaking.

"Ah, maybe I just got lucky first time in the seat or the tutorial is just too easy, but I'll get the hang of it with some more practice, I expect. Can't be good at everything."

He smiled before digging into his small meal with another bite. Despite the ravenous appetite, he'd heard her brother mention the ration selection and had only taken what Mick felt he needed to get by for now. He figured he was not imposing but he'd rather go the next three days with minimal grumbling from the only other male on the ship. If that was even possible with this guy.

"So three days. How soon until we hit Hutt Space? That's the real boundary."

He could get them by Imps and Allies with his current set up but once they hit Hutt Space, and if they somehow figured it out, somehow, things could get ugly. Quick.

[Madeleia]

"Two and a half days," she replied, remembering that he had mentioned about their possible dangers when they entered that sector. Leaning in, arms on the table and holding the glass, she eyed the dish that he had chosen and grinned at his comment about lack of total perfection. Egos abound, she mused. "Point of that wasn't to get rid of you, but the fact that I can't angle the shields while flying if we get jumped. T.J. would do it in a pinch, but makes things a bit harder." Especially if the shields took a hard hit and couldn't be adjusted.

Taking another sip she took in the figure before her and now knowing part of his background questions began to arise. "So, the rancher and my boss go way back, I take it?"

[Grym Kandle]

"Hm?"

Mick paused for a moment to finish his other bite of food, and washed it down with some water before continuing.

"Oh. The masked spice head, right? Kandle?..."

She could see him looking up, as if trying to reach back to some memory in the back of his head. It was apparent as he found it and resumed the conversation,

"The way the old man talks about him, dren, even to his face the last time he was around, maybe five years, they go way back. Way, way back. The Codger talks to everyone like they're younger than he is, but there's only a few that he'll be frank and impolite with as if he's known them since they were kids. And Kandle is one of them. Old man never said how they met, but that it was back when Kandle was known as the Reaper. That's what the fossil calls him, the Kid Reaper, always joking about pulled punches and afraid of finishing a fight. The spicer never rises to the bait so I assume he's either used to it or they've already had their tussle. Whatever his trick is, I wish he'd teach me..."

Mick realized he had let slip more than intended and frowned, stabbing his meal a bit forcefully before sticking another piece in his mouth to remind him not to get carried away.

[Madeleia]

Madeleia listened with rapt attention and knew that whatever skeletons were in Grym's closet, there were no doubt a lot of them. The drugs were pushing away something, she mused and took another sip as Mick buried himself in his meal once more, prompting a grin as she was seeing a need to be accepted by the gambler as well. Which wasn't unnatural when you looked up to someone that raised you. Sitting back, she reclined a bit. "Don't sweat it. I was raised by a friend of my folks who only talked about some of the things they did together and I hated that he was always gone, making me raise myself pretty much," she revealed, hazel eyes now fixed to the glass of water. "Didn't find out I had a brother until recently and he's been with me since."

Taking another long drink, she downed it and raised her gaze to him once again. "So, you and your sister.... or half-sister, right? Where's she come into all this?"

[Grym Kandle]

The young man leaned back as well, swallowing his food just as Madeleia finished her comment about having only just met her brother recently. It was weird how some people could randomly have somethings in common amidst an entire galaxy of everything else. She turned the conversation to Mildreth and he grimaced, taking a drink of water to clear this throat before speaking.

"Mildry? Sister by proximity only actually... But still my sister. She's the comms of the operation, making the long distance calls and setting things up. She's got a head for numbers and can think herself through a few ledgers while I race around in circles. But... After spending what seemed like a life time together as brother and sister, Mildreth had a suspicion and tested it out without the old man finding out and ends up, we ain't by blood..."

Madeleia seemed in the sharing mood and it was late enough in the night. He couldn't bring his grey eyes up to meet hers as his mouth quirked to the side before he started speaking again.

"And not with the old codger either. It took the poor girl a bit to come out and tell me as much, but after that, I'm not sure she ever really felt like she was part of anything anymore... I took it personal, maybe too personal, with the old man and him not being forthcoming with any of it. After I confronted him with it, he never did and probably won't bother with explaining himself, saying that none of it matters and we got the hand we've been dealt now so no sense wondering who had the queen in the last round... Same dren..."

Finally he bothered himself enough to bring his eyes up. Tried the smile as best he could and a noncommittal shrug to assure himself more than anyone else.

[Madeleia]

More about the rancher and how they all fit together was now becoming intriguing though she knew nothing more would come of it unless Mick wanted to reveal more. Of what he knew, anyway. "Uncle Caton, as I knew him anyway, finally gets me off of Plagen where I was born and raised, saying it's time for me to learn the ropes of his side business. I was pretty excited, figuring I'd finally be getting away from that life only to find out that it was the same life, just on other worlds," she grinned wryly. "We get to Nar Shaddaa and I wake the next morning stating that the ship's mine and see ya later." Shaking her head, she still hadn't forgiven the old bastard for that as she leaned in again, finishing off her water and then set the glass on the table once more.

"Been plying the lanes since then and figured I'd go back home to see some friends and one of them then introduces me to T.J.," she mentions, hazel eyes glancing toward the doorway behind him which led to the other suites and engineering. "We start talking and figured the only way we were going to get any answers, once I catch up to Caton again, would be together." Sighing, her gaze returned to Mick again. "That and he's a pretty good mechanic and knows his way around ships, so."

[Grym Kandle]

Mick smiled wryly, running a hand through his hair only to undo that same strand once again. He tucked it back in absently.

"So... Always good to have a solid mechanic when you've got your own ship... Pretty nice outfit you've got to start with."

He had been about to ask if she was actively searching the Caton fellow or if she was biding her time for something else in mind but Mick figured sticking to the here and now was better for the time being. They still had two and a half days to get deep into their glasses of water. His smile spread at that thought, making a silent prayer to any good stars out there that she had something harder than water on board.

[Madeleia]

Grinning, she nodded and pushed herself up, turning back to the autochef. Moving to it, she knew that many other things needed to happen before she actively began searching for Caton, but having the contacts in Black Sun could only help with that endeavor. Though as she approached the autochef, she recalled the bounty that was also hanging over her head and the possible reason. Caton had disappeared for more reasons than one and that made her more angry at the one that had raised her. Trust wasn't easy to come by for anyone outside her extremely small circle of three.

Placing the glass back into the autochef's window, she pushed the button for the machine to reclaim it, then turned and glanced to Mick, "Going to wake T.J. for his watch," she warned. "You boys play nice." Passing their guest, she wasn't sure how late he would stay up, but also that T.J. wasn't much for waking after only six hours of sleep either. Madeleia wondered if he got that from their dad or not as she entered the hallway and stopped at the first door on the left which was his room. Tapping the buzzer for his room, she waited for a reply. Tapping it then a few more times, she finally got a sleepy, irritated response.

"What?"

Madeleia grinned. "You're turn for watch. Night."

An audible sigh, "Thanks."

[Grym Kandle]

"Yeah, right, night."

Mick didn't deny himself the parting glance as she walked past him before turning his glass up. It was empty already but tipping it off just seemed to grant some finality with the gesture. He was tired himself. After that pleasant little exchange of humanity, Mick did not honestly feel like a run in with her sour counterpart. He stood, stretching, his fingers brushing against the roof of the galley, before taking the glass and sliding it and the plate into the autochef. He took a frustrated moment to figure out how to return it and hoped he pressed the right one. His luck seemed with him then at least as he watched the machine accept his humble offerings. Food was good enough; he had no complaints there.

Mick turned on his heel to head back towards his room. Two and half days... Leaning against the wall in the corridor, he pressed his hands against his head, pressing his hair down between his laced fingers. Just another run, right? Back home in time for supper, the codger would say.

[Madeleia]

Drifting off to dream, Madeleia felt she hadn't been asleep that long before red lights alarmed her awake, eyes flashing open with a start. Pushing herself up, it took a moment to register just what was going on and the smuggler immediately threw on her clothes, pulling up her boots and grabbed her gunbelt on the way out of her room. Hair askew, she ran to the cockpit as she pulled on the belt, noticing the Imperial Customs frigate now staring at them. "Frak," she exclaimed without thought.

"Yeah," T.J. turned, grinning. "Good morning." Sighing, he turned back to the communications suite as Madeleia claimed her chair. "They pulled us out of hyperspace," he stated with disdain. "I honestly didn't think anyone would be out this far off the main routes." Motioning toward the approaching ship. "But, looks like these guys had nothing better to do. Probably out here having a huge party and we crashed it," he glanced at her. "How you wanna play this, Madie?"

Knowing they now had few options, she shook her head. "Let it play out," hazel eyes glanced back as Mick entered the cockpit. "Hi," she greeted, grinning wryly.

"Heave to and prepare to be boarded," the steady toned, male voice stated over the comm. "Have all forms ready for inspection."

"Copy that," T.J. replied in his typical, happy, sarcastic tone, then turned off the comm suite as he flipped them off.

Rising again, Madeleia grabbed their manifest as well as her and T.J.'s ident cards, then held out her right hand to Mick. "Gonna need your ident card as well." Hoping he had one as the frigate slowly maneuvered over them, eclipsing the distant star.

[Grym Kandle]

Wouldn't be another run unless it involved some snot nosed government trying to stick its fingers in everyone else's cookie jar? Mick ran a hand over one side of his jacket, then the other, finding the pocket on his sleeve and sliding his ident out. His free hand rubbed each eye, pulling one open trying to get himself up and going beyond what the initial rush of adrenaline had done for him.

"At least it's only Imperials. You aren't carrying anything else worth the weight of them bothering with you, right?"

Imps were thorough. Mick gave them that. But they were boring and predictable. Likely from all the tedium and bureaucracy that they dealt with on a regular basis. Mick was sure it just numbed them out to the very bone.

[Madeleia]

Taking Mick's ident card, she continued on into the main hallway which would be the Imperial's entry point as she glanced up and heard the magnetic seals from the docking tube attach itself. Once pressure was established as well as an atmosphere, she touched a small button on the panel to her left, then waited as the iris valve opened and a metal ladder lowered to the plating. Trying her best to keep a pleasant demeanor, she was fighting it hard. Soon, the appearance of the first two Stormtroopers lowering themselves into the ship, then move back to evaluate the rest of the interior while the second watched the trio opposite the ladder as their commander touched onto the floor plating. Handing him the ident cards and manifest, she waited as he moved out of the way for two more troopers.

Evaluating them for a long moment, the officer in deep grey uniform with matching breastplate and helmet verified the ident cards and other forms. Moving now through the ship and out of sight, the quartet of soldiers in white began searching the Auburn Sunrise room to room. "You Madeleia," the officer finally spoke, his steady, baritone voice catching the smuggler off guard.

"I am," she replied, hands clasped across her front.

Glancing over her shoulder, "Mick?"

[Grym Kandle]

Mick stepped forward, the perfect demure deckhand.

"Sir, Mick L'ngmyror, these folks are my charter. I've got..."

He pulled the customs plate from the inside of his jacket,

"I've got this that covers my shipment and says I've got clearance for special scans only or else y'all'll ruin the merchandise. You can check the logs but this ain't my first time making a delivery with this stuff neither. I was..."

He tried to count off his fingers without being obnoxious.

"Seven months back I was moving two crates of the stuff to Coruscant herself!"

[Madeleia]

Taking the clearance from Mick, the officer inspected it closely and then nodded, turning as he moved to gaze down the short corridor toward the cargo bay. "Four barrels marked special materials, cleared already so don't scan them." Serious brown eyes turned back to the trio as the officer's voice seemed skeptical but apparently instead of finding out the hard way, he let it go for now. Handing back the plate to Mick as he approached them again, "If I find out that those barrels contain something other than what you've claimed, there won't be a corner within our space where you can hide," he glanced between them with the warning.

Nodding, Madeleia glanced to Mick, then the officer. "Noted, thanks." Taking their forms back, she handed Mick his ident card and kept the others in her hands.

"Destination," the middle aged officer inquired.

[Grym Kandle]

"Nar Haaska, Sir. Selling this here gene soup to a distributor. You know, they can't refine cloning materials out on the Rim like they do on the Inside but the margins are too-"

"Enough."

Mick stopped, expecting that it was only a matter of time before the officer tired and that would be within about 10 seconds.

"Alrighty. Wellp, any questions then, Sir regarding that cargo, you let me know. I'm-"

"I said enough."

Mick smiled, scratching the back of his head, using the thin vein of anxiety behind the whole charade to reinforce his faked nervousness. Sometimes reinforcement was needed and other times, if oversold, it could invite further suspicion. Sort of like gambling. Next card.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, you're from the Core, right? Commenor system, sounds like."

The officer raised an eyebrow, a flicker of a smile or a grimace playing across his face. Before the officer could ask anything obvious, Mick barreled into it.

"I mean, I've moved and dealt with some chrysopaz crystals before, good people, good business."

The officer stared at him, obviously something was playing back there and Mick was betting against the House with an Imperial but he was laying it on thick enough, right?

"Young man, please stop talking."

Mick held up his hands with no offense, waving off any hostility as best as he could with his gloved hands. Mick took a glance down the hallway; they seemed like they had been hard at it back there for a bit now.

[Madeleia]

Listening to Mick about to get them thrown into the brig, Madeleia watched the officer's expressions and began to think that the gambler's style was instead achieving the opposite. Handing their paperwork to T.J. in the cockpit behind her, she chanced a look toward the cargo bay as she stepped forward, nearing the uniformed and lightly armored Imperial.

"Hey, where you going," he inquired defensively.

"Nowhere," she replied, grinning. "Just hoped they didn't have to move my brother's speeder bike out of the way. It's a rare edition and not finished yet, so."

He glanced back through the galley to the vehicle just inside the cargo bay door. "Oh? What type is it?"

"Nebulon Q," T.J. replied from behind her and Mick. "It's the model Four with the extenders. They only made four thousand of them."

"Huh," the officer's interest seemed genuine. "My cousin used to race on Rendili and always talked about getting the Q, but never could afford it." He straightened, "How did you come by one?"

Madeleia turned to see all three men, her left arm near the ladder as T.J. grinned. "Old man on Dantooine had a garage sale and wanted to clear out some space. Apparently his son bought it years back and never came to get it, so."

"Lucky." Shaking his head, the officer dropped his arms to his sides, sighing as his gaze shot back toward the rest of the ship again. Tapping his comlink, "What's taking so long?" He listened for a long moment, then turned his attention to the crew. "Oh?"

Madeleia's hazel eyes now glanced between the officer and Mick, knowing she had nothing on board that would raise any suspicions.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick shrugged innocently, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up slowly.

If they had opened the containers, they were in for a surprise. All of them.

Gene soup was all the basic organic nutrients required to create and support a cloning process. That being said, opening the containers to look inside would expose anyone to a smell that Mick could only describe as burnt flesh and vomit that had marinated for about a decade. He really hoped they had not, and then at the same time, hoped they had opened the container. It was almost always a for sure thing, especially with Imperials. They just didn't have the stomach for it. Alliance sometimes had the stomach for it and anyone otherwise seemed to get over it, maybe because Nar Shadda had a similar smell. Mick only regretted that the ship's new name would likely become something like Auburn Stain.

And of course they had.

It was apparent as soon as the smell came rolling down the hallway. Mick would have to make it up to Madeleia, he immediately assumed as he gagged, doubled over. At least he was confident that unless they stuck their arms in that goop about elbow deep, they still would not find their actual cargo. Mick's eyes watered and he looked up to the Imperial Officer who was suffering similarly.

"Sir... you... your men... just ruined that... one barrel."

[Madeleia]

The sudden wafting of recirculated air now tainted with the most foul thing she had ever experienced, Madeleia immediately covered her mouth and nose with her shirt, then moved to the spare locker across from her. Throwing the door open, she yanked out two gas masks and tossed one to her brother and pulled the strap over her head. A wash of nausea still came over her with the short breath that she had and hoped now that the feeling went away. Getting sick while wearing this would be beyond pleasant.

Covering his nose and mouth with his hand, the officer scrambled up the ladder, letting his troopers fend for themselves at the moment and rumor had it that the trooper's helmets didn't filter out toxins like this. Tossing a third mask to Mick, she heard the mad scramble from the cargo bay, complaints erupting through the white helmets as the four soldiers now fought for the first place on the ladder, following their commander back into the safety of their ship. Moving into the cockpit, she motioned for T.J. to join her, unsure if Mick needed to close that barrel now or not. Plopping into her chair, she strapped herself in and prepared to dump the atmosphere, then allow the air filtration system to recover and give them something pure to breath -keeping the cockpit closed off from the rest of the ship.

"Might want to grab a seat," she warned the gambler.

"You know," T.J. began. "Had that not been so disgusting, this would've been funny."

[Grym Kandle]

Mick gagged again, picking the rebreather up from the ground. He made a signal to Madeleia that he was headed back to the cargo, not sure if she caught the gesture or not, he could not wait any longer as Mick turned down the hallway. He doubled over halfway there, pretty sure he was going to projectile vomit as he got closer. Lifting the rebreather from his face to prevent splash back did not help either but appearances and comfort often went opposite directions.

The young gambler felt like he had to practically drag himself to the barrel and stood, eyes closed, not wanting to see the gene soup because honestly, the goop looked as bad as it smelled, if that was possible to believe. Those idiots had been really eager, real dedicated. They opened two barrels, not just one. Had to get their point across. Well, that was the price Mick paid for insurance, right?

He closed the lids, feeling the slick tactile sensation of the goop and he almost lost it again. Finally sealing them, he double checked the container settings on the other two and sighed as the rebreather granted him something barely better than the air around him. Mick stumbled back to the cock pit just in time he felt, as it appeared the glare from T.J. might've meant the brother would've already kicked on the vacuum vents if maybe his sister had not insisted on waiting for the straggling passenger.

"Good to go."

[Madeleia]

Waiting, she noticed the frigate soon drift away from them and now given the unspoken clearance to leave, she wasted no time. Glancing back to the gambler as he strapped himself into the chair behind her brother, she closed the cockpit door with a push of a button on the main console before her. Now secured, she dumped the atmosphere in the ship, venting it out through various points along the hull. Keeping an eye on the air toxicity levels, she soon closed the vents and allowed the recirculation system to now refill the rest of the ship which was going to take a little while.

Taking off the mask, she let it hang around her neck as they flew to the next jump point now plotted by the navicomputer. "Be best to remain here in the cockpit for about an hour," she stated. "Atmosphere's going to take a while."

Pinpricks of light now jetting into a morass of swirling color, she let the autopilot take over and turned her chair as did T.J. Hazel eyes glanced to her brother as he grinned.

"Our benefactor fill those barrels with bantha shit or something," he asked, chuckling. "That was frak'in nasty."

[Grym Kandle]

Mick took a deep breath as he pulled his own mask off, his eyes still watering as he tried to shake it off.

"Gene soup. It's biological material for cloning living whatevers. The stuff rates a nine on a scale of ten for most vile substances in the known industrial world. The Codger had an angle in the black market years ago but ended up with a surplus and since then has used it for these purposes..."

Mick braced himself against the bulkhead for a moment, eyes closed. He continued after a moment, one eye still tightly closed.

"Rarely have to deal with the stuff in person like that, one out of four times its because the Imps can't resist opening the dren, like its their birthday present or something. Deeper into Hutt Space though, if they even notice it, they know its a trick. No one near Hutt Space actually has need for that stuff unless they're up to no good. Most people just line a container with it and call it good. We take it another step and submerge the actual container in a typical container of the soup. That little bit of dedication usually seals the deal beyond normal suspicions."

Mick stretched, making sure he kept his hands away from his face, as he had no doubt that they likely still retained some trace elements of the smell.

"Not our first rodeo, eh?"

[Madeleia]

Listening to the interesting ploy to keep the Imperial and Republican customs officials from searching any further into the barrels was interesting, but then the fact that criminals in Hutt Space were on to that trick gave the smuggler other ideas. Watching as Mick kept his distance as well as avoided his hands going near his face, she knew that he had to actually touch that mess. "You going to make it an hour without hitting the refresher?"

T.J. now noticed the same things that she did and motioned to a cabinet below the small desk at his station, "There's wipes in there, somewhere if you want. Just chuck them into the trash reclamator in that narrow door on the wall behind you."

[Grym Kandle]

Wasting no time, Mick turned to the cabinet, trying to be picky with his fingers, not touching anything unnecessarily. He drew out the wipes and began cleaning his hands off, digging into his finger nails where he could see residue of the gene soup, a yellow and red color that reminded him of pus and blood. He tightly closed his eyes, thinking of anything else to get the image out of his mind. He wiped his hands down quickly but the smell did not go away like it was supposed to. Mick scrubbed with more intensity and then caught the scent up his arm. His skin shuddered with revulsion.

"Uh. I don't know if I'm going to make an hour. At least part of me will have to wait but..."

Mick tried to be as far back as possible before he let his flight jacket slip to the ground. He unzipped his jump suit to the waist and the sleeves rolled off his shoulders. He began to wipe up his arms. His arms were covered in tattoos, long lines that continued beneath his undershirt. Numbers and symbols ran along lengths of the lines, almost like some kind of diagram or map. They were stretched and faded, as if they'd been there for some time and had grown with Mick. He had no intention to make a scene of it either, as he quickly wiped his arms down, and then slid his hand up his shirt and wiped down his neck and chest.

[Madeleia]

Watching as their guest began stripping off the top half of his jumpsuit, Madeleia's eyes followed the contours of his muscled arms, then to his abdomen, but once grabbed by the tattoos, she diverted her attention to their meaning. The unique designs grabbing her attention almost immediately, she leaned in a bit as he continued wiping down his shoulders, turning his back toward them in a feigned intention of modesty. Maybe? "Some interesting ink you've got there," she commented absentmindedly. "Think someone wanted you to be a trove of passwords or codes to things that the Rancher may not have bothered to write down?"

"Damn," T.J. added now taking in the display arrayed on the man's torso.

[Grym Kandle]

The young man initially ignored their commentary, lifting his shirt to smell it, recoiling with disgust, then almost gagging again. He quickly stuffed it in the reclamator. He had more in his bag. Mick pulled the flight suit back up and over, loosely zipping it up halfway. He took another wipe to his neck and up behind his ears as he turned to face them.

"Yeah. I used to think they were something cool when I was a kid. They don't mean anything... like that, unfortunately."

He rolled up one sleeve, running a finger along one of the lengths of his arm to the symbols and numbers.

"Product codes. Parceled and itemized for black market organic chop shops. Some of us are luckier than most, I suppose."

[Madeleia]

Listening to his reply with rapt attention, it was T.J. that caught on first as his eyes widened. "Wait.... what?" He motioned toward the tattooed gambler, left hand splayed, palm toward Mick. "Someone was going to use you for replacement parts? That's frak'in disgusting," he stated, blue eyes turning to Madeleia. "You know how much money that would make? Doctors on every world looking for limbs and organs on the black market?"

"You need help," surprised, she grinned with disgust, shaking her head. "So," she continued, now eyeing Mick. "The old man saved you and your half sister from some warehouse of orphans being used like that?"

[Grym Kandle]

"Yeah, supposedly. Honestly, I don't remember anything beyond growing up in that old compound and flying about with the codger for a while here and there."

Mick grinned slightly, glancing at the ground as his memories played back in his head to some better more ignorant times.

"Says he did us a real favor, I've no doubt. But like I said too, he never really dissuaded us from the notion that we were all blood, he, Mildry and me."

There was more to it. Mick always felt like there was more but the old man never bothered to elaborate or fill in the gaps. The codger would go on about them owing him a life debt and just to get on with their lives in general as if there was nothing else to it. Mildry had suggested that Lazy, as she called him, was hiding something, trying to sweep it under the rug and deny that something darker had ever been attached to it. Mick's older memories passed by his eyes and he just couldn't make that leap to that kind of skeptical depth. The man had been the closest family that either of them had besides themselves all while they were kids. It was not like they were livestock, cared for and doted over until the day of slaughter.

"But whatever, the galaxy's got a lot of dark places out there and about, no surprise a few of us were lucky to crawl out of it and into some normalcy, right? I mean, like you guys, how fortuitous that you guys ran into each other like you did, right? That's a high card draw for sure."

[Madeleia]

Madeleia rolled her eyes, "Yeah, been regretting it ever since too."

"Love you too, sis," T.J. shot back.

Chuckling lightly, she reclined once more into her high backed chair, taking in what Mick revealed about the Rancher and wondered now more about the old man and his affiliation with this chop shop for humans. "Being blood, I wonder if he was some type of donor for that place then. Or maybe those sick bastards were grabbing up kids out of hospital's nurseries. Certainly makes you wonder," hazel eyes went from staring at the far console and back to Mick, telling already that he was growing uncomfortable with the discussion's path. But, she wasn't one to let something go when it interested her.

[Grym Kandle]

Mick grinned ruefully, running a hand through his hair, glancing at the both of them before his feet again. If only her dren-frakking brother was not sitting within the same two meter radius. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as his head hung, mulling it over.

"Like I said, Mildry proved good and well the lie of the old man's words. But even she could not find the truth to it all."

He looked up, a grin to try and beat back the haunted notions behind the subject.

"So it came down to a gamble and I couldn't put the cards down. I didn't know the old man played for the house but I figured. He bluffed hard and I tried to call him on it, time and time again, hand after hand. I think I picked up enough of his tells. Then I met enough of his old acquaintances and contacts. The codger was known the Rancher for a good reason. And that's never sat well with me in the end. Ever. Go figure."

[Madeleia]

Shaking her head in disgust, she understood the sentiment well enough. "Our story's not too far from that, really," she glanced to her brother knowing he hadn't been told the whole story behind her own experiences either. "Parents hired as mercs to a crimelord, and from what I've been told by Caton, they were set up and left out in the cold to take the fall for some other asshat in their group. He made off with the money and we became orphans. Never did find out what happened to him or the creds."

"Hopefully waiting on us to call in that debt," T.J. added, anger tinging his voice as he glared. "Can't wait to hear that he's shacked up in some outback with a couple of women. Fat, dumb and happy."

Madeleia had imagined several different scenarios on how she would meet the one or ones responsible. "Actually, I hope he's still in shape and working so that when we do catch up to him, it won't be like shooting marliks in a pond. That would kill all these years of waiting."

Grinning darkly, his blue eyes rose to the transparisteel windows behind her. "Yeah, that would be more fun, I guess."

[Grym Kandle]

Mick debated what 'left out in the cold' translated to but was not in the prying mood himself right then and there. At least not in a possibly silence-inducing point of conversation.

"So are you guys saving money to eventually pave the way to this double crosser or what? Just hoping it eventually happens or is there really a plan?"

The gambling youth could not remember all of the nights that he and Mildry had sat about debating how to go about clearing up the murkiness of their own past and exacting some kind of revenge upon those responsible for the injustices of the galaxy that had been seemingly thrown upon them without much reason beyond a simple supply and demand for organs and tissue to supply some sick niche market. That had been some time ago. Mildry did not move that much anymore. Mick figured she got around but she barely left her domain back at the Ranch. He was sure she had lost some vein of hope in her after seeing how business as usual was outside the confines of the Ranch.

[Madeleia]

"I'm putting away what little I can," she nodded. "My friend Mouse has a large network back on Plagen that's been trying to hunt down leads for us while we get this business going. She's been keeping in touch with me on occasion and once she has something solid then we're going to be heading home and pay this bastard a visit."

"How's she doing by the way," T.J. queried, his smile a signature one for the playboy.

Madeleia chuckled with amusement, "She's fine. Busy as usual and hasn't asked about you at all."

"Wow," his high point quickly melting away. "That doesn't necessarily mean that she's not thinking about me," he glanced to Mick. "Right?"

So, now the ganging up thing, she mused.