Making Their Mark [Xel]

[Denoel Quane]

There had been moments when his description of how the Cizerack would've made her horny as hell, but it seemed that the life she led now curbed that desire quite a bit. Especially when there were now so many dangers out there looking to put her out of business. Permanently. More details on the Tenloss group also added more details to what she wanted to know about Cloud City's underbelly. Just when things were starting to look up, she mused. "Sounds like a party," she replied sarcastically, a wry grin on her face. "Grym's scary enough, so have to respect his way of keeping Tenloss on the payroll without them becoming a problem. At least for now anyway. With what I've seen of the business thus far, have to say that Black Sun's quite organized and I like that."

The playing field had now grown quite a bit and there was still a lot to learn.

[Xel-Naga]

"I have only seen a very small picture of Black Sun." He held up his hand and pinched his fingers close together. "Grym makes the third Vigo I've worked for, and I've been all over the galaxy from Coruscant to Ord Mantell, Carshoulis Cluster to Bespin. There is so much more to Black Sun than I could ever see as an Enforcer. We are the biggest organized crime family in the galaxy, and we grow bigger every single day. This cold war standoff between the Alliance and the Empire generates more profit than gunrunning during the war ever did. Everyone wants something from the other side.

And then there's Corellia. That's a whole new golden egg. The Resistance, or Rebels, whatever you want to call them, need weapons, and we are more than willing to supply them. For a cost, of course. I wish I could get in on that action. Bet it's a real show watching those assholes fight each other. Plenty of opportunity for looting and fighting. You could do whatever you want and blame it on the rebels. It's open season. That's... hot."

[Denoel Quane]

Denoel chuckled and knew now where some of the equipment and other cargo they were seizing may end up. "We're not smugglers, but that does sound profitable. Though like I mentioned earlier, I'm not looking of cutting out Grym right now. Just have to start researching ships transporting weapons and get a plan put together. Though I know at least one of the ships on our list today has a large shipment of weapons onboard." There may even be something within that cargo that she or the crew could use, she mused. "Grym said we could claim something from each of these ships, so if we happen to find something useful for the ship, I'm not going to complain. Of course, I know that's not on your list, so don't be afraid to grab something that strikes you."

She had a feeling that he still had some more toys in that large crate that he had brought with him that they hadn't seen yet, so no telling what he might be interested in.

[Xel-Naga]

"Yeah, maybe we'll get lucky and one of those ships will have a hold full of booze, spice, and whores. That's a ship I wouldn't mind knockin' off." He rubbed his hands together and then stood up, stretching his body a bit before heading for the door. "I'll be in the hold. Gotta stuff a few holes. Get the armor back to a hundred percent before we hit the next ship, and take a nap. If you need me you know where to find me." By the time he finished talking he was out of eyesight disappearing into the bowels of the ship.

His armor had taken a light beating in that engagement, mostly because he was drunk with power and letting himself take hits. Now there were a few nice scorch marks and a few deep cuts that needed to be reinforced and mended before he could use it again. Otherwise those points were a weakness that could be exploited intentionally or accidentally, and he would rather not lose hull integrity. Once that happened he'd probably have to scrap his suit until he could get it to a real mechanic. In the meantime he would do what he could with the engineer on board to make sure it was ready for a fight by the time the next target rolled around.

[Denoel Quane]

Chuckling, she shook her head and then watched Xel as he left the small bridge. He was starting to become predictable, she mused and turned her attention back to the navicomputer, ensuring that they were still on course to the next ambush point which wouldn't take them long to arrive at. Turning off the overhead lights, allowing the multicolored buttons and monitors on the horseshoe shaped console to create another mood setting, Denoel leaned back into the chair and kept a watch until relieved. Also, while there she caught a quick power nap.

Lids opened some time later as Colin was staring at her from his chair. "What," she asked, stretching.

"Ship's been taken while you were asleep," he told her, though his tone wasn't as concerned as it probably should have been. "Done everything I could to keep them from raping you, so this is our last strongpoint. I have my gun, but only half charged eclip in it, so after I'm gone you're on your own," he sighed. "Been fun."

Glancing toward the closed bridge door, she noted the red light on the panel to it's left wasn't lit like it should have been. "Well, sorry to hear that. Figured they'd find us sooner or later," brown eyes returned to him. "Sad to hear that your new boyfriend didn't make it to the bridge with you, might've been able to give him a goodbye kiss."

"Just wasn't time," he shrugged. "My loss."

Eyeing him longlingly, she sighed. "I could have, but since we're about to die, just no time. Guess you're just going to have to suck it up and die with some dignity. Go out in a blaze of glory, that's what dad would've told you."

His eyes widened a bit at the offer. "Well..... we still have a few minutes, I'm sure. These pirates didn't look like they had their shit together." Leaning forward, he smiled.

Denoel followed suit, leaning on the navicomputer, parting her full lips slightly and as he neared, she slapped him, then fell back again. "Yeah, right."

Hand to the wounded cheek, he smiled. "Damn, you're cold. Fated man with a dying wish and you go and smack him. Meany."

"Bite me."

"Yeah, that was the idea."

"Not in your wildest, buddy." Pushing herself up, she moved toward the bridge's sole entry point and pushed the button to open the door. "I'm going to grab something real quick, be back."

"Alright. Got just short of a half hour and it's game time again."

"Let everyone know." Descending the stair, she made her way into the galley and approached the autochef, punching in a cup of caf and a pastry.

"Alright ladies," Colin's voice came over the intercom. "Half hour before the next hit, so Dirk, whatever you're doing in the refresher, get it over with and get your shit together. That is all."

[Xel-Naga]

The voice came over the intercom, and Xel started awake, his eyes opening, his body tensed, and his hand searching for a weapon. It took a moment for his brain to catch up and remember where he was. By that time he was sitting up with the heavy DeathHammer in his hand, his gray eyes scanning for targets. Wiping the sleep from his face, he stood up. A few stretches relieved the discomfort in his body from sleeping on the ground. With every twist and stretch his body suit struggled to contain his muscular figure. The fabric stretched, and thinned, and showed every muscle curve.

He noticed the Engineer watching him with a disgusted look on his face. "Take a picture bro, it'll last longer." He said as he grabbed his crotch and shook it a bit to get his point across. Laughing to himself, Xel grabbed his half empty cup of cold caf and downed it. In the middle of the hold waited his armor, carefully tethered to the rack above to keep it from falling over and killing someone. He hated the body suit as much as people hated looking at him in it, but it was a necessity to keep from getting pinched inside the suit. He got stuck inside it once when his pants got caught in a seem, and there is no room to reach in there and cut yourself free. He had to pull until the fabric finally tore free. Not a fun situation to be in when you've already been inside the suit for hours at a time and need to piss real bad.

Climbing back up the suit he slipped his wide frame in through the head and torso hole and dropped down carefully. No sense in falling too hard and smashing the family jewels on the leg part. The crewmen helped seal him back in. One by one each piece went on; each one stealing away the light bit by bit until he was left in darkness. The suit powered back up. All systems were green. Damage detection was still reading a few weak points, but most of them had been fixed up or patched over with metal plates. Hardly out of place on his patchwork armor. Instead of waiting in the hallway he wedged himself in a corner of the bay and waited for the next attack. His suit was pressurized and had enough oxygen supply to handle the vacuum.

The beast was hungry.

[Denoel Quane]

Knowing they were up against stiffer odds this time, Denoel tensed as they waited, the Saliso's entry into the quiet sector of space should be any minute if their information was correct. Even though she trusted the Black Sun contact on all this, things could have changed and if that were to happen Grym would be without an avenue for ransom. Biting her nails as the Acula sat in the darkness, both within and without, Colin's incessant tapping on the console with his fingertips was becoming annoying.

"Could you stop that," she finally whispered, agitated.

"Sorry," the copilot replied and the rhythmic noise ceased. "Hate this waiting."

"Don't we all." Having already deployed two of Amund's droids, brown eyes constantly danced from the sensors to the outside through the cockpit's large window. Sighing, she knew her own impatience wasn't going to help matters, or get the Saliso to show up any faster. After what seemed like hours, the pulse in the hyperlane announced a ship and the droids went to work, bursting an intense circle of ion particles which not only brought the Action IV out of hyperspace, but ionized it's power source and engines. Firing up the sublights, Denoel sped the Acula toward their prey, now tumbling and rolling across their path. Amund would have to make two more droids, but they at least did their job, she mused.

"Game time," Colin announced over the intercom.

Speeding through the emptiness of space, the Action VI raced to it's prize no doubt now on alert and Denoel could already picture the Weequay and Gamorreans grabbing weapons and preparing to repel boarders. She assumed the droideka would be closer to the Hutt. "LFI giving us anything yet," the captain asked.

"Uh...," Colin glanced over to his right. "Yeah, everybody's home it seems. Five Rodian and Twi'lek crew, Weequay and Gamorreans all in attendance as well as a Hutt." He grinned as his eyes turned to the Saliso now approaching quickly, as Denoel began matching it's roll to line up the access tubeway to their own. "Have to give that infomerchant a big, wet sloppy kiss when we see him again."

Shaking her head, still trying to concentrate on the task at hand, Denoel grinned. "You really need a girlfriend."

Soon, they linked with the large freighter and Colin jumped up and headed for the cockpit's exit. "Think maybe this Hutt's got someone?"

Laughing, she shook her head as the link was made and the magnetic couplers all went green. "You need serious help." Jumping up herself, she grabbed her pistols and raced for the stair as Dirk and the rest of the group began their breach.

[Xel-Naga]

The docking procedure went smoother this time. Experience would make masters of them all. Stomping across the umbilical, data spike in hand, Xel was ready. The spike worked better this time, and the door immediately swooshed open and allowed him direct access into the hail of bullet. Instead of sitting like a duck eating lasers he rushed inside, the door closing behind him to protect the umbilical as his armor was showered in red light. He didn't even wait to spin up his rotary cannon. There was a big Gamorrean standing not far from the door, and he ran straight at him with all the speed and grace of a maglev train.

Dropping as low as his armor would allow him he drove his shoulder into the Gamorrean and pinned him against the cargo crate at his back. Gore splashed over his armor. Pushing off the crate he whipped about, swinging the barrel of his cannon around to clip a Rodian in torso and send him sprawling to the floor only to have his legs stomped on as he tried to get back up. The whirl of his cannon's spinning barrel filled the air, drowning out the hail of blaster fire. "Get some!" He yelled through his external comm as the repeater weapon began spitting return fire, once again cleaving through bodies. One by one the ship defenders were annihilated or ran for cover. Their defense was scattered. No sign of the Droidekas.

His weapon stopped spinning. The link to his HUD indicated it was overheating and locked. Oh fuck. Dropping what was now a very expensive, and heavy, paper weight, Xel piloted the armor behind the cover of a cargo crate and looked about. Spotting a dead Weequay he grabbed the dropped Vibro-axe. It was a common weapon among their kind. It was a long handle and a large axe head. More a polearm than an axe. The activation plate was hard to finger with his big hands, but he managed, and then came steaming out from behind his cover. A rodian was cleanly cut in half by the weapon, even as his bug eyes bulged and his finger continued to pull the trigger like his blaster could save him. Whipping around, he threw the weapon and pierced another guard.

That was when his armor integrity klaxon sounded off. He was very near a breach. There was too many combatants. Ducking back down, he ran a full diagnostic scan. Eyeing his fallen cannon, he knew it would be cool enough to fire again soon, but not yet.

"Careful entering the ship. We have heavy resistance. The door is clear. I killed a bunch of them but there are a still a few left. Haven't seen the droids yet. My armor is pretty beat up."

[Denoel Quane]

Running to the fight, Denoel could hear the distinctive staccato of Xel's weapons as well as the sporadic fire from a variety of blaster rifles. Knowing her crew were working together, she hoped that the defenders weren't as experienced as she feared they might be. Through the umbilical, she soon noticed the victims of the initial assault from the beast in power armor, the Gamorrean's lifeless corpse left against a near wall where he'd been dumped. Just beyond more Rodians and Weequay were found, some draining from a host of dark holes in their bodies, others whose wounds lightly smoked.

Dirk's voice soon cut in, "Damnit, Amund's down. Egil, get him out of here!"

"How bad," Denoel immediately queried as she moved toward the sound of battle.

"Shoulder and upper chest," Egil informed, his distracted tone frustrated of being interrupted as he did his best to save their engineer. "Heading back to the Acula now."

Approaching, brown eyes noticed Amund's concerned face as two darkened spots in his lighter grey body armor smoked, his left arm limp. Slowing her pace, adrenaline now pumped as she became angry. "Hurry him to the medbay and stay with him."

Nodding, Egil continued rushing his first patient from the freighter, giving Denoel the chance to continue rushing down the main hallway until a darkened doorway to her left suddenly disgorged a rushing Twi'lek male, a vibroblade in his hand. Cutting Denoel across her left bicep, she recoiled and aimed both pistols at him, firing with the right as her left hand lost it's strength and dropped that pistol. Firing two more times into the attacker's chest, she continued backing and watched him drop to his knees, then fall forward, dropping his shortsword. Glancing at her wound, blood began streaming in a wide swath down her arm.

"F***"

Keeping her eyes now between the doorway and corridor beyond, she ripped the medpac stored in her left thigh pocket and began treating the wound.

"Dee," Colin's voice cut in through the comlink. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, keep pushing to the guest room," she switched her focus as the pirate applied a gel to disinfect and accelerate the healing process. "Xel, can you fight outside that armor? May need another gunner for those droids. Two out of commission at the moment and I'll be there shortly."

[Xel-Naga]

It was a conundrum. Inside the armor he was a slow behemoth, but without it he was more agile. There were risks on both ends. Stay in the armor and slowly get whittled down by not being able to take advantage of cover, or get close and personal on his own. Droidekas were nothing to laugh at. Even as outdated military equipment they came equipped with shield generators standard. That was a tough order to fill.

"I'll see what I can do. Please tell me you brought ion grenades?"

Pulling his arm free of the control housing, he felt around inside the cramp space until he located the Oh Shit button, and pressed it. Every alarm and light went off inside his HUD. WARNING WARNING EMERGENCY JETTISON WARNING WARNING, flashed across the screen. Closing his eyes, tensing hard, he tried to make himself small, pulling his arms to his chest and tucking his head, but that was close as he could get inside this tin can. The suit stood up, placed it's leg wide apart, and then the entire upper body detonated and flew off in all directions, creating a shrapnel storm that sent the defenders scattering. It left half a man standing inside shaking the ringing out of his ears.

Reaching down by his crotch he pulled out the DeathHammer heavy blaster pistol from it's emergency hideout and pulled himself out of the smoking metal legs. He immediately cut to the side, moving around the cargo at a half-crouch. The defenders were still trying to figure out what just happened, wondering what kind of explosive had just gone off, and if they should be worried about a hull breach. It gave Xel the opportunity to sneak up behind a particularly ugly from behind looking Rodian and blow a soup bowl size hole through his upper torso. This caught the attention of the rest of the defenders, but not before Xel downed another and clipped the shoulder of a third before the return fire sent him diving for cover.

He was feeling very vulnerable in his skin tight pilot suit. Something hit the top of the crate he was hiding behind and bounced to the deck in front of him. It was a cylinder with a flashing light. "Shit!" He screamed as he got up and began running, ducking under laser fire as he made for the next closer crate, diving over the top as the incendiary grenade went off, bathing the surrounding deck in flames. He felt the heat and the fire on his skin. The flash of pain that made him grit his teeth before the nerves suddenly went dark. He cleared the top of the crate and landed on top of one of the dead defenders.

Xel's suit was a mess, melted and burned off in several places. Swearing loudly he rolled off the top of the dead goon and sat against the crate. He went to kick the goon in a fit of anger but stopped halfway when he noticed something. "Fuck 'em." he grabbed what was clearly a fragment grenade, primed it, held it for two seconds, and then threw it over the top of the crate while yelling "Grab your boots!" toward his teammates. Ducking back down he stuck a finger in each ear as the grenade went off within the defenders and sent them scattering. Unlike the flames the shrapnel of the frag grenade was impossible to outrun. Screams of pain soon followed the deafening explosion. They were likely all alive still, but in no condition to fight back after having their bodies torn apart.

Nice.

[Denoel Quane]

Wrapping her arm, Denoel continued listening to the chatter of voices calling out defenders and yelling obscenities which meant they were at least still alive. The important part of the conversation, as it was. Now ready to move again, Denoel replaced the remainder of the medpac into her pant's pocket and continued moving, now that her second pistol was stuffed in her belt. Hating being handicapped like this, she took it a bit slower as the cargo bay to her right was the scene of carnage. Passing the empty room that the Twi'lek had charged from, she noticed movement in the galley ahead. Being adjacent to the room's doorway, she slowed her pace and angled her approach to her own left, slicing the pie as she had been taught. Her pistol up, the noise of activity at the counter drew her on until she soon noticed the Human male frantically at work.

Slowing her pace, she wasn't sure of what she was watching as the man in dark leather jacket, black pants and fingerless gloves made himself a sandwich. Some people had strange rituals during combat and perhaps he was making his own last meal, she mused. Once he had capped the piece of art with another piece of bread, he grinned to himself, then turned to her.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm not hungry," Denoel stated, pistol aimed at his chest.

"It's not for you," his smooth voice reminded her a bit of Colin in a way. "Figured I'd need it once this fight was over."

Brow furrowed lightly, she then realized that a Human wasn't registered when Colin did his LFI check, so where did this guy come from all of a sudden. "What makes you think you're going to get that chance?"

He grinned lightly and shrugged as his left hand disappeared behind him which prompted her to fire immediately. Dodging, the blaster bolt scraped across his chest, burning his jacket. Following his movement with the gun, she continued firing as she moved toward the door and to the right, tracking him as the surprisingly agile, lightly bearded man dove behind a booth. A distant explosion from the cargo bay and continued shouting of the combatants let Denoel know she still wasn't alone as she moved into the galley's doorway. Crouching outside the doorway, she continued to aim at the corner of the booth, using the near wall as cover.

Then it happened, a grenade arced over the padded couch toward her and the moment she noticed it, Denoel backed recoiled and pressed the door's button to close it. Spinning around to the corner, she heard the door close just as the lone occupant cursed her in ways that she hadn't heard in a long time. A long moment of silence and then the horrendous explosion, being so as she was that close and thanked the wall and door for their presence. Sighing, she lowered her head and waited a long moment before opening it again. Standing, she turned and hoped that he hadn't survived that as she pushed the button. Smoke billowed out and she kept low, pistol aimed into the foggy room until it soon thinned enough to see her victim laying on the floor halfway between his hiding place and the doorway where he must've attempted to get to the grenade and door before it went off.

Oops.

"Galley clear."

[Xel-Naga]

Slowly pushing himself back on his feet, Xel gritted his teeth as the pain began to register. What was left of his skintight pilot suit barely maintained his dignity now. The flames had melted the material to his skin in some places and burned it away completely in most. The revealed flesh was crusty and black with burns, and his feet were already bleeding as each step cracked the burns. That pain did not stop him. He was moving, even if at a slow walk. Blaster in hand, at his side, he moved around his cover, peering through the smoke and flames. There were cries of pain and the sound of shuffling.

Moving directly toward where the defenders had been he found the blackened ring where his grenade detonated. Around it was littered the last of the crew. They were bleeding heavily, clearly dazed, and feebly attempting to crawl to safety. Xel was not about to let them do that. Stepping up behind the first he pressed the blaster against the back of his head and fired. The heavy blaster left a smoking ruin where his face had been. Letting that body drop to the ground he moved on to the next. This one got the reverse treatment. After flipping him over and swatting his hands out of the way, Xel shoved the barrel of his blaster as far into his mouth as he could, and over the sound of him choking on the hot metal, he pulled the trigger.

"Only one more left, and you're gonna get it." He cooed as he stalked toward the last. All sense of caution to the wind. The twilek tried to crawl faster but it was no good. Xel grabbed his bloodied leg and tugged him back before rolling him over and grabbing his chin with his hand. "You know, for having some of the prettiest females in the entire galaxy, you fuckers sure are ugly." The twilek tried to fight back, but that only got him punched in the face so hard it knocked his head back into the floor and left him more dazed. A quick search of his torn and blooded clothing revealed a knife. Taking on lektu at a time, Xel began sawing through the orange flesh while ignoring the screams of agony from his victim. One after other until only two bloody stumped remained. He left him like that, standing up and tossing the severed appendages back at him. Sometimes it was more harming to let them live. Death was too easy.

And judging by the severe blood loss pooling on to the deckplates, he wasn't long for this world regardless.

"Docking bay clear. I'm... I'm gonna need a new pair of pants." He mumbled into his comm as he stumbled back toward his armor suit. A whirling sound could be heard. It was faint. Metallic. Droidekas. "I think the party poopers are here." His pace quickened as he moved toward the smoldering armor. It was useless to him now, but the rotary cannon was cooled down now. Picking up the heavy weapon, he slung it over the top of a crate, aimed it toward the opposite side of the ship, and let the barrel spin up.

The first Droideka was immediately cut in half as it rolled, unshielded, into the bay. The heavy fire of the cannon was too much for it to withstand. The second one, coming in from the other side, came to a stop, it's shiny energy shield springing into place at the same time it's blaster arms folded into position. The cannon belched fire at it, causing the shields to ripple. It fired back, sending Xel diving for cover as his crate was blaster out of place and the cannon knocked from his hands. He felt fingers break, but that hardly stopped him from army crawling away like his life depended on it.

Because it did.

[Denoel Quane]

Moving from the galley, Denoel heard Xel's warning and she immediately called for the team. "Dirk, you got the DEMP gun?"

"Yeah, on it." Panting, the ex-mercenary rushed from the nearby doorway, leaving the others to now tend to the Hutt captive and she moved to trail him as he carried the heavy weapon to the cargo bay. Knowing the droideka would make quick work of their Black Sun ally if they didn't hurry, she kept her pistol at the ready though knew it would do her no good against a shielded war droid. Adrenaline pumped as they moved and soon the gangly looking droid's back was seen, still tracing Xel's near half-naked body through the cargo bay as he dodged from one crate to the next. Aiming center mass, Dirk let out a breath and fired. The pulse of ion rings slammed into the back of the droid, shutting down it's shield first and then ionized the droid itself. Blue lightning danced around it's rust colored body as it convulsed and then dropped to the ground with a resounding metal on metal crash.

"Xel, you alright," Denoel called out as Dirk then rose and moved to return to the rest of the group as they now sedated their prize.

[Xel-Naga]

From behind the smoking remains a crate rose a single hand, pointing upward, thumb up. The hand limply fell back out of sight. Cursing and grumbling could be heard on the other side for several minutes before Xel finally popped back up into sight, on his knees, leaning against the torn crate. A cut on his head had left blood dripping down his face. The rest of his body was as worse for wear. Cuts and burns dotted his body all over, and there was more than a few foreign bodies embedded in the surface of his skin. His eyes were unfocused and glazed.

"I could really use a drink, and a doctor."

[Denoel Quane]

Relaxing a bit, Denoel straightened as Dirk and Baldor left them alone. "Egil, man down in the cargo bay. Shot up pretty bad," her voice sounding concerned as she moved toward the discarded armor suit knowing they were going to have to figure out a way to get this back aboard the Acula.

"On my way," the team medic relayed.

Brown eyes turned to the large mass of muscle, bleeding and beaten. "Won't be a minute, though you may have to hold on for the drink." She needed one too. "Amund, when you're able to move, we need to get Xel's armor back to the ship and maybe these droideka, if you think you can repair and reprogram them."

A grunt sounded in the common frequency they used as the engineer was apparently pushing himself up. "Yeah.... good idea. See what I can put together for his armor," he sighed. "The frame's not mobile, but maybe one of the droids here can tow it back."

Nodding, she moved then through the mass of crates and bodies to the bald mercenary, taking out her own medpac and set it on the dull grey box behind him. Crouching, she began working on the more serious wounds knowing Egil was going to have his hands full with everyone today. "Relax, we'll get you looked after," the pirate grinned lightly as she began working. "Think we're all going to need a vacation after this run," the captain stated, her own left arm in a sling.

[Xel-Naga]

"I've heard Vaynai is nice this time of year." He said as he stared at the empty wall, his eyes unfocused. Something dawn on him and his eyes narrowed back into focus. "I have. Some combat stims. In my bag. That'll get. Everyone back on. Their feet. Maybe not the best. Idea. They are strong stims. Designed for regular users like me. It might keep you up. For days. It's not so bad. If you have something. To do with those days. I like pop a few. And go. Carousing. You know, really tear up the night. You ever shot up booster blue? Aww yeah. It makes everything better."

The reaction time enhancing effects of booster blue almost made it feel like time was slowing down for the user. That meant that all sensations lasted that much longer. It made good food last longer, drinks taste better, and make your senses all tingly and receptive. It was great, even if it made you sicker than a rotting bantha the next day. It was all worth it. Especially if you were already on battle stims. Those would help offset the side effects and keep you up for days of straight partying. Then you slept for twenty four hours and everything by the time you woke up everything was out of your system and you could go back to reality. It was the best way to spend a weekend off work.

It was what he really wished was doing instead of being torn on the floor of a cargo hold.

"We should get out of here before anyone comes back to check on this ship."

[Denoel Quane]

Applying pain killers to the wounds as well as disinfectant, Denoel half listened to the otherwise delirious mercenary and knew that his life was much more interesting than she had imagined. As Egil ran up, she backed and let him take over, though remained within the small destroyed area of toppled cargo containers and debris. "They never got any SOS's out, so we've got a day before she was supposed to arrive. But, yeah," brown eyes scanned the cargo area, "We do need to get things rolling."

"He'll be ready to move here in a minute," the medic relayed as he feverishly worked to keep Xel alive. "Going to be my guest in the medbay for a bit as well," he grinned.

"Lucky you," Denoel glanced to Xel and smiled. "At least he's got the best bedside manner of anyone else aboard."

"Only bedside manner," Egil countered.

"Well," Denoel sighed as she pushed herself up and moved toward the wrecked armor suit. "I'll leave you to it. Need to do a quick look around before we let the droids take this ship and our guest to Grym."

[Xel-Naga]

"'bout time you got here, Doc. Could you prescribe me. One alcohol, please." The different functions of his body were forming minds of their own as the network known as a body began to fall apart. Already he could feel his mind falling away, or floating away. He wasn't sure. His mouth was operating on it's own now, happy to be free from that oppressive mind, and conscience his buzzkill friend. His body was badly injured and going into a numb, sleep-like state. It was only vaguely aware of the medic's treatment. Wounds were wiped down, cuts glued shut, and any grievous wound was filled with medifoam and patched over like a hole in the wall.

Finally the medic moved under his arm and lifted him on to his uncoordinated feet. The mind watched from afar as it's body was half carried, half dragged toward the airlock. Back on board the Acula the body was taken to the medbay, and the entire time the mouth ran it's own race. It argued with the medic's diagnosis, he begged for alcohol and sexual favors, and threatened physical violence, all before chuckling like he had heard a joke from an old friend. At last the Black Sun Enforcer fell asleep, with the help of a hypo injected into the large man's neck.

[Denoel Quane]

Two hours later.

Denoel walked into the cockpit, feeling as good as was to be expected and noticed Colin at the navicomputer, kneeling. "Well, your chance for a girlfriend just left us."

"Yeah, don't remind me."

Moving past him, she sat gingerly into her pilot's seat and gazed at the area he was looking at on the starchart. "Going to need a day or two for everyone to heal up again."

Nodding, the copilot pointed to a selected world. "Randon looks good, only a day away from us and on a major trade route. Not far from the next target, so."

"Good idea. Let's get out of here."

As Colin set the coordinates, Denoel engaged the sublights and moved the Acula from the scene of their most recent hit. Having baffles on the ship, their route would be a bit harder to track and she knew there was going to be a bounty hunter or five tasked with finding the Hutt's daughter within a few days. Getting away from here as fast as possible was going to be their saving grace. Glancing to Colin, she noticed him still kneeling before the navicomputer. "Why don't you sit down?"

"I'm fine," he deflected.

Scanning his body, she knew that they had all been wounded in some manner, but hadn't heard what happened to him yet and was starting to get an idea. Smiling, "You get shot in the ass?"

Glancing to her, his brow furrowed defensively. "No, just more comfortable this way."

"Liar," she chuckled. "It's fine, I can fly there. Get some rest once we're away."

Rising slowly, he sighed. "I said, I'm fine." Turning, he limped to the bank of computers on the cockpit's wall behind his chair and tapped three switches and waited, then turned to her. "Ready to go. Plotted a couple misjumps as well."

"Okay," she turned and flew the frieghter to the assigned jump point, then pulled on the levers and they were away. Her left arm still in a sling, she pushed herself up with her right and moved toward the entrance. "I'm going to get a shower, then a stiff drink."

"Sounds good."

[Xel-Naga]

Light invaded the empty darkness, pulling his consciousness from it's sleep. With a start and a loud intake of breath, the sleeping giant rose in his bed. His gray eyes searched the room. There was a craze in them. They looked for enemies and weapons, and found neither. The brain caught up with the body, and memories fell in like a blanket of snow. The ship. The raids. His armor; destroyed. Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he tried to relax. His body was patched up; cuts stitched and bacta applied. A tank treatment would be preferred, but a ship like this did not have that sort of medical capabilities. A change of clothes had been left in the room.

Swinging his legs off the bed he tested his feet on the cold floor. Pain was beginning to flare up all over his body as movement aggravated his injuries. He paid it no mind. He pulled free the IV from his arm and the sensor patches from all over his body. The clothing was slowly pulled over a bruise and battered body. It was almost enough to make him feel useless, but he soldiered on. Warmly dressed in cargo pants and a wooly long sleeve shirt he left the medbay and limped out into the corridor beyond. He had a singular destination in mind, and made his way to the common space he had visited when he first came on board.

There were other crewman already gathered there, including the Captain. He gave her a nod and began hobbling around. Reaching behind the caf machine he pulled a silver flask out as if by magic from where he had hid it earlier. Leaning against the counter, he slowly twisted the cap off and lifted it to his lips; taking a long pull of the sweet Corellian Whiskey. When he came back up for breath he looked across at the captain and raised his flask is a toasting fashion.