Felucia's Open Orbit

*There was another person requesting permission to land already?*
Crud.
*Culex paused his game to analyze the incoming craft, an X-wing for that matter, and its request. After processing the request, he returned contact with the ship, along with a flight plan.*
:: Deliverance 1, you are clear for landing. Enjoy your stay and welcome back. Er, just welcome. I think. I dunno if you've been here. ... have fun anyway. ::
*And now, back to the game...*

*The YT-2400 freighter Starpulse, appearing on the edges of the Felucia system, slid into inbound system traffic with all the stealth of a thief in the night. Its shields, engines and life-support remained powered on, but just about everything else on board that might require power went dark. To all civilian traffic outside of visual range, the ship was a ghostly blip on their scanners- maybe a piece of debris from an old wreck or a malfunction on their scanners. The pilot of the craft, a human by the name of Amiel, maneuvered out of incoming ships' paths with the skill of an interceptor pilot, letting the Force guide her path.*

*The ship kept at its path and course for two days in the system, slow and steady, Amiel changing piloting shifts with her R4 unit to check on the Starpulse's cargo or resting herself. She always one eye on the ship's scanners, though.*

*On the third day, Amiel was buckled into the pilot seat while the planet Felucia came into view. The wilderness below and the Jedi Base on the surface were only minutes away. Her Master's careful instructions, bordering upon paranoia, had paid off.*

"Open the com channel to system control, R4." As the droid whistled its response, the Padawan wrinkled her nose. Something... something was definitely off. She had to wonder if her passenger was giving off more of the strange smells his kind was prone to, and that was the source of the unease.

Search your feelings, padawan...

Amiel took a deep breath (and fastened a rebreather to her face just in case it was the passenger) and called on the Force to guide her thoughts.

Malevolence. And Intent.

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Out in the void, among the incoming and outgoing ships of freight from Felucia, two small ship signatures suddenly flared to life. Shields raised and weapons powered on, they began screaming toward the Starpulse at intercept speed, shielded by the freighters.

-----------------------------------

R4 whistled at Amiel, announcing the com channel was now open to Felucia.

::Felucia Control, this is Padawan Amiel at the helm of the freighter Starpulse. I am inbound with sensitive cargo and require a landing vector and fighter escort if one is available- SITHSPIT!::

A pair of torpedoes flared to life to the port side of the Starpulse. The padawan jerked the freighter in an emergency maneuver to evade, firing thrusters to full power. The torpedoes, fired at extreme range already, began to track toward the freighter's new course. Their origin, a pair of Skipray Blastboats on the ship's sensors, were invisible against the blackness of space.

Likely a hull paint job, Amiel thought. Bounty hunters or spec ops. Professionals either way.

"R4, take over controls. Evasion protocols- and power up the guns, ASAP!"

*The torpedoes from the Blastboats screamed through the black of space, R4 whining in shrill binary as the freighter took on a precise evasive maneuver. Spinning sideways, the vessel slid between a pair of heavy cargo ships inbound to Felucia. The captains on those ships must've been paying attention to their sensors, because their shields raised almost as soon as the torpedo volley was launched. One impacted to the rear of a heavy cargo ship, likely waking up all hands but otherwise she was in good shape. But the other torpedo wouldn't be dispersed by R4's maneuver.*

*The Gunboats meanwhile began to open fire with their forward lasers, their turrets rotating a full 180 to cover their engines, spraying laser fire back toward the approaching X-Wing fighter craft. The two black-hulled ships moved in concert, their pilots coordinated and with absolute confidence in their ships and each other.*

*Amiel was sliding into the gun pit for the Starpulse as Khas reached out to her mind and the lasers started flying. For a Padawan, she was mostly calm and collected- a little surprised that her Master's caution hadn't completely paid off. Khas's own torpedoes screamed closer to the heavy gunboats, tracking in through the counter laser fire, until the ships broke hard, separating and leading the charges toward the much larger freighters passing by. The explosives detonated against the sturdier ships as the two attackers returned to their original positions, firing madly at the Starpulse as it sped toward atmosphere.*

I need to leave the traffic zone, Amiel thought. But for all I know, there could be a whole squadron of them in this system.

*The fact that these pirates were here and waiting didn't bode well. Her mission was clandestine. As far as everyone from the Senate to the System Control crews on Coruscant was concerned, the Starpulse was on its way to Yavin IV. So someone had talked,*

<<Khas, this is Padawan Amiel Taythin.>> *The guns swiveled round and Amiel began to poor laser fire at her pursuers while R4 continued ducking and weaving through freighter traffic. The fire and counterfire mixed between the ships, impacting shields as the three craft made slight maneuvers around each others' weapons.* <<I've got a droid at the helm and me on the guns. Sooner or later these ships will figure out his evasion patterns. What are our options?>>

<<Calm as a cat, Khas.>> The padawan intoned, pouring fire back at the ships as best she could. The black painted hulls of the ships confounded her visual aiming abilities, and relying on the Force to guide her weapons fire was matched by the skill of the pilots opposing her. The two were well trained, ducking and weaving to avoid laser blasts by a hair's length. Their counterfire was steadily peppering away at the Starpulse's shields. "R4, put the rear shields on double strength."

The droid beeped an affirmative, continuing his computerized evasion patterns- patterns the enemy was quickly wising up on.

Unfortunately, the freighters that were providing a corridor to the Starpulse were taking notice of the dogfight and were rapidly beginning to split off. Soon there would be no cover to lead additional torpedoes into.

The blastboats' transponders picked up on Dural's transmission, their transponders buzzing with military efficiency to translate the speech. The ships kept their silence, maneuvering between the two craft, closing in on the heavy freighter until they lined up a shot...

<<Dural. Leave.>>

The lead gunboat fired off another torpedo as the last heavy freighter broke off its landing trajectory to head back into space. Amiel pulled back in her seat, reflexively trying to put more space between herself and the torpedo on her scanner.

300 meters. 200 meters. 100 meters.

"R4, launch escape pod!"

Even in space, far above the actual surface, one could feel Felucia's surface simply teeming with life.

Sir, the pilot said over the intercom, broadcasting directly into the passenger cabin, we've come out of hyperspace over Felucia.  Who do you want us to hail?

The ships crew had been kind enough - or scared enough - to leave their passenger to his own devices for the duration of the journey.  Regardless, the broken-horned Zabrak preferred the solitude to whatever company a band of smugglers could provide.  He was sure that the captain and his mates felt much the same about a Jedi booking passage to some backwater world known less for sunny beaches and beautiful women than it was for terrifying wildlife and flesh-eating diseases.  Fortunately, a few drinks, a few credits, and subtle pushes with the Force into the captain's decision-making matrix smoothed everything over, and now the quiet journey was at its end.

Without a word, Rutil Iorek opened the door from his cabin and made the short walk to the cockpit of the old freighter.  As the door slid open, the ship's first mate was about to yell in protest, only to be stopped by a stony glare that many a youngling - and even Padawan - had come to know over the long years.  Wordlessly, he motioned for the first mate to vacate his seat behind the pilot, and the Cathar man - moving almost as though in a trance - stood up and walked out of the ship's bridge altogether.  With a few flips and a few button presses, a secure broadcast was made to the Jedi Base on Felucia.

"This is Rutil Iorek," the Zabrak said into the microphone to whatever station commander might be listening, "and we need to talk."

The Zabrak motioned for the pilot to keep his current course, almost daring the ships in orbit to fire at them.

"My companions need fuel and a place to recover for the night," Rutil replied, "and as of right now, I have an appointment with Master Calmcacil, top priority."

The Zabrak Jedi didn't wait for acknowledgment.  If Gol wanted to argue, then Rutil would be all too happy to do that.  But as it stood, he knew that the Jedi would be all too willing to help out one of their own, especially if the company he kept were also in need of minor assistance.  Besides, Rutil was counting on his reputation to help speed matters along; he was not known for either being on a Jedi world or for asking to speak to a top-ranking Jedi, that he was doing both could only mean it had royally hit the fan.

"Terrific, thanks."

Without another word, Rutil closed the channel and let the pilot take them down.