Open Space and Hyperspace

He was silent, lost in thought, going through stances and disciplines. He was just finishing up the last of them in fact, when the human woman, Liya, from earlier walked up...


Finishing his exercises, Dante turned towards Liya, and raised an eyebrow slightly in surprise; though, it was more quizzical in nature than anything amounting to shock.

"Apologies Liya. Though if you evolved separately from the human race, what race are you?

He dismissed her anger - in fact, had she inquired, she would have realized that anger, disdain, and arrogance pretty much reigned supreme on his planet. Firrerreo stuck to their clans, and then their species, and not much else; a general callousness and lack of regard or manners to others outside of ones clan was pretty much expected. Inwardly, he examined her a little more closely. She certainly seemed to be a standard human woman...the notable exception being the corners of her eyes. Though, Dante didn't know what that meant. Despite his large medical knowledge, there WERE some obscure species that he hadn't dealt with. Epicanthix were among them. He supposed the eyes could be a racial trait...though, as he thought about it, there were plenty of near human species that had differing internal structure. For all he knew, she had three hearts.

"Also...are we nearing our destination? There are things to do...people to kill...other errands of importance."

"Epicanthix...I'll remember that."

He would. It payed to know the species traits of those you were working with. Besides the fact, he seemed to be the closest to the ships doctor...if she got shot, he didn't need her dying on him because he didn't know of some alien organ or whatever. No doubt he could access a medical database once they landed and familiarize himself. She didn't seem that different from a human though...didn't smell that different either. For a moment, he evaluated how he felt about her. Should he lump her in with humans? No...that would be like lumping in other near humans...to be sure, they looked similar - hell, even Firrerreo had humanoid characteristics - but they had all been pretty much equally persecuted during the reign of the empire. She was different from the rest of the crew.

Visibly, Dante seemed to relax substantially, a small quirk of the mouth revealing a...grimace? Smile? A half pained and half genuine expression, it looked unsuited to his face.

At the mention of the transponder, Dante outrighted frowned at the news. It wouldn't due to get caught before they even landed. Hell, who knew what the remnant would do to them. If the codes didn't work...and if Dante survived...he was going to shove a wrench down that weakly human's windpipe. Silently, he listened as she outlined her plan, and Dante nodded slowly. Listening, he began assembly his weapons back on his person, adjusting straps and double checking brackets to make sure his gear was in place. Putting the goggles back on his head, he shook his head slowly at her words.

"A casino...security will be tight. We'll need weapons, which will be incredibly hard to get inside. Unless we smuggle or bribe them in somehow. I'll play the part, in fact, I can get most of the casino's attention on me, I'd wager - nonviolently, I'll add. I can be subtle when the situation calls for it."

Dante listened, nodding his head every now and then at her words. She smiled mischeviously at her plans...and then got the smile under wraps mere moments later. She was taking her role as de facto leader seriously it seemed...perhaps too seriously. She didn't strike him as someone unable to lead...which meant it felt uncomfortable to her...that much had been obvious from some of her behavior on the bridge anyway. Storing that away, he nodded at her plans for weapons, smiling slightly himself.

"Stealing weapons from guards would probably be relatively trivial...building weapons as well...using the same loophole as the syndicate could tip someone off though...perhaps we should err on the side of caution. I leave that decision up to the rest of you though. Recon would be MOST appreciated...counter intelligence was my forte after all...if our getaway needs to be masked, I can lend a hand. If the need arises."

He was silent at the mention of the human Jedi, and casually readjusted a strap on a holster.

"I'm sure the Jedi will do fine. With you."

Downright subtle for a firrerreo, and practically head bashing for anyone else; Dante returned Liya's casual insinuation with a rather blunt answer of his own. Finishing with the strap at his side, Dante cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking distinctly...uncomfortable.

"...Look...you're doing a good job. As leader I mean. But stop...tensing up. We walk on the same road...but that road sometimes takes detours for some of us. I've been alive a hundred and three years...you're a child to me, and while I must seem ancient to you, I'm barely in my prime yet. But there's one thing I know even in my youth...very, very well. People die, mistakes happen. And rarely, very, very rarely, is that the fault of their leader. Rather...that's just life. Life sucks. And then you die."

Turning, Dante walked over to the cargo bay door, and leaned against a support beam next to the door control.

"...Lets land already. It's time to kill."

The Darklord slipped out of his trance and brought his mind back to the here and now, His large bulbous Eye opened, His fang filled maw crooked a grin, He stood to his clawed feet and glided to the door to exit.

With no hurry at all the giant from Byss walked back to the command bridge of his Tector-Class Star Destroyer, With his clawed hands folded behind him, He entered the room and spoke.

Normal growling tones. "Pzob Admiral Keiths".

Bacca signaled for a Stein of Pzobian Coffee and a Smokible. He sat in his command chair

With the command given, the word is sent along over encrypted comm's to the two Victory II-Class Star Destroyers.
A Short few clicks of the chronometer later the attack group moves off at full sub-light speed. Innon'Ruuk drank his coffee and smoked his smoke.

The quiet, almost reclusive doctor was harder to locate, but I soon found Daniel in a quiet corner of the ship, engrossed in his studies. Books, papers, maps, pens, a datapad, and four or five empty caf cups were scattered in the vicinity. I knocked on a bulkhead and coughed politely, but his attention was elsewhere, and if he heard me at all, he was too deep into his research to give an immediate response. Shrugging my shoulders, I left him at his makeshift desk and slipped away quietly. Our conversation could wait.

Moments later, back on the bridge of the Red Cred, I made another careful check the navicomputer's route map and status before settling into the pilot's seat once more. I stared thoughtfully at the controls of the Loronar. There was nothing productive for me to do until the hyperdrive disengaged in a few moments. I tried to remember the last time I had piloted a craft this large --- it had to have been well over a year, and it wasn't something I had done on any regular basis at all since leaving Panatha and her military behind. Until now, I had been limited to the Bronze Star and other freighters of her class. But you never really forgot how to operate those bigger ships, either. Or at least, I never did. I was pretty comfortable with the Red Cred after my experiences in recent weeks. The last unknown was how she would handle in atmo on Bespin.

Outside, the blue swirls of hyperspace continued to speed past, providing a dim grey-brown light by which to see inside the cockpit, but my mind was wandering farther into the past and farther away from the craft on which we rode. In a way it was ironic that the crew's travels had brought me back to Bespin once again. Once upon a time, the gas giant had been the outer edge of my world, the farthest I normally traveled from the Pacanth Reach. Now, it was the closest I dared to get to my homeworld, and I had only consented to come because I needed information I could not get anywhere else. Bespin was the farthest outpost of the Bounty Hunters' League of the Pacanth Reach.

The League's bounty broker on Bespin had been one of my father's closest friends, and he had been rather fond of me, back when I was a teenager learning my way around the business. I hadn't seen Crusher since before Father's death, but I knew where to find him, and I knew he would help me, no matter how messy my current standing with the League was. He was honor-bound, just as I was, not to prevent the collection of Fel's bounty. But nothing said we couldn't interfere once he was transferred out of the hunter's custody, and the chances were that the transaction had been made (and recorded) by now. The only risk was if Crusher had been forcibly removed from his post. It seemed implausible --- I had once seen him kill an armed man with his bare hands in under five seconds --- but there was no way to know for sure. I would have to go knock, and see who answered.

My gaze stared out through the transparisteel into the distance, focusing on nothing at all. I remembered the first time I visited Bespin, and sitting in Crusher's kitchen, taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells. There was the starchy smell of pasta boiling, mixed with the sweet and spicy aromas of nine different sauces in five different colors simmering on the great stove that filled one entire wall of the kitchen. One of the three cooks hovered near the vats of bubbling liquids at all times, while the other two moved away to dice tomatoes, or shred cheese, or scoop enormous portions into shining white bowls, or shove trays of bread into the oven. All three rotated perfectly among the prep stations like clockwork, following some unseen schedule, and after a few minutes, that schedule brought a piping hot bowl and a spotless silver spoon into my hands. The food had been terrific, but the biggest lesson that day was the value of paying attention to the smallest details, all the way down to an herb leaf, or a finger smudge.

But you couldn't be so focused on the small things that you let the larger ones trip you up, either. That had been a harder lesson for me to learn, and one with which I still struggled, although I rarely admitted it. Instead, I tried to have both at the same time. One of the end results was my reluctance to lead a team. My natural instinct was to micromanage every member of the team, and to try to control every variable, but my past experiences had proven that this was impossible. I didn't have the capacity for that level of control, and so people around me wound up dead. Repeatedly. It was enough to make one grow a shell, and try to hide inside it. But my shell had failed. Fel and his crew had pried me out of it, and now I had to adapt. And that started with landing this ship in one piece, without running into anyone or anything, or getting shot down.

Coming full circle in my thoughts, back to the task that literally lay in front of me, I leaned forward expectantly, and three seconds later, the navicomputer alarm sounded, and the mottled blues and browns of hyperspace suddenly resolved themselves into distinct starlines, then individual points of light hanging in space. And, rushing towards us like a hydrocardon in a tunneling magnascope, was the Bespin system, with the orange ball of gas known as Bespin looming largest and closest. I immediately pulled back hard on the controls, sharply braking our speed as we closed the last thousand miles to the planet.

{ Continued on Bespin ... }

*Gavin raised an eyebrow as he he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.* "You think so?" *He dropped his head as a small smile came to his face. Such a challenge. It had been quite a while since he got to let loose in situation. He had been at the battle over Kuat, though he never encountered any enemies in his location. Setting the autopilot, he stood to his feet before quickly turning and making his way out of the cockpit.* "This way, then."

*He lead her down the halls until they came to one of the cargo areas. It was the biggest spot on the ship and would give them plenty of room to move. He walked into the room a bit, rolling his shoulders, cracking his neck and fingers. Stopping in the center, he didn't turn to her but spoke, his voice growing quieter and colder.*

"Show me what you got, princess."

*He took a deep breath after words, centering himself and taking in his limited surroundings. He gave a smirk as she questioned his statement and felt her lunge. His right leg slide out to his side, fully stretched and allowed him to slip close to the ground where he leaned forward, hands bracing his form. In her lunge, he planned to let her pass right over.*

"Why I do believe I did. Would you prefer cupcake?" *His smirked widened, aiming to edge her on.*