Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246 
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Aug 20, 2015 21:26:37 GMT -8
She'd caught on to his idea about halfway down the hallway, but just how he was going to execute it, she didn't realize until she was sprawled at the foot of Grimo's dais, fallen rifle clattering beside her.
Grimo looked none too happy at the scene in front of him, although the fiery Malora laying prostrate before him was quite pleasing. A tiny part of him found his prize gladiator's new defiance admirable. What good is a dog that doesn't bite back once in a while? It showed strength. But the pup had gone too far, and there were too many witnesses to let his insolence slide. Defiance was one thing. Lack of respect was another matter entirely, and the man reeked of it. Stubby arms flailing, Grimo roared at Wade in Huttese, angry rivers of slime trailing from the corners of his wide mouth.
The Quarren translated in fairly decent Basic for his species, although neither she nor Wade probably needed it. "The Great Lord Grimo finds your attitude insulting, Champion, and will remind you that you are only here because of his good graces…"
Malora chanced a glance at Wade through the curtain of hair that had fallen over her face. She had to marvel at his nerve, standing there unconcerned, surrounded by too many weapons pointed at his head, talking to Grimo like he owned the place. Then again, when you're as good as Wade was at dispatching enemies, she supposed she wouldn't be worried, either.
Grimo yelled. Quarren droned on. "…Should you outlive your usefulness or disrespect the Lord Grimo again, you will be dealt with like the other worthless bags of flesh currently under his control, and your freedom here will be rescinded. This is your only warning."
The rifle was close. All the focus was on Wade at the moment. Inch by inch, Mal slid her hand towards it…
"But disrespect of your gracious Lord is not and will not be tolerated! As such, you, pit-fighter, will serve your punishment in the lower levels, and your Champion title is hereby stripped from you.."
She had it. Drag it slowly, slowly…just a little farther to the trigger…Yes! Got it.
"…As for the bitch, your prize will be confiscated and recycled for the other fighters or matched in the Pit against others for Lord Grimo's amusement—"
Malora swung the rifle up, worked the trigger, and the Quarren's head exploded like…well, like an exploding Quarren head. "Like fuckin' hell I will!" The rifle was already coming around to the guards surrounding Wade, and she'd picked off two before one of them grew a brain and trained his weapon on her. She rolled, the stupid slave-girl outfit catching on anything and everything as she knocked into a few bystanders like a bowling ball, sending them toppling over, grabbing others in their fright. The rest of the court that didn't have a weapon stampeded for the door.
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Wade on Aug 21, 2015 19:26:06 GMT -8
The first kick sent the rifle spinning away from its intended target, spraying a line of blasterfire across the court that managed to catch two of the guards, then Wade drew his leg back and drove it into the man's jaw, dropping him like a sack of... uh, space potatoes. He kept moving even as the man dropped, snatching the rifle out of his hands and turning it against his fellows. The one who had survived the first wild barrage fell to a bolt in his forehead that his armor did nothing to protect him from, and Wade's next target received a burst to the chest that simply burned through his clearly inadequate protection. He dropped to a knee as he spun, rifle searching for more targets that failed to present themselves when he realized that Malora had already eliminated the remainder. He returned to his feet and lowered the rifle in one smooth motion, firing a single bolt into the head of the guard he had knocked unconscious.
"Now then. I've got a couple things to say." He stepped over the quarren's body as he approached the dais, dropping the rifle on top of the corpse. "First off, you really should have just answered the question." He planted one foot on the dais and leaned closer, ignoring the stench of the hutt's breath as he planted an elbow on his knee. "Secondly, you don't get to dictate who or what I am." Reaching out with his free hand, he slapped the control that would slide the dais to the far end of the room where the hutt could overlook the arena and watch the fights he prized so much. It gave a low groan and the sound of machinery straining could be heard, then it finally began moving forward as Wade climbed onto it. "Third, she's not my prize, or anyone's bitch."
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Aug 21, 2015 23:21:58 GMT -8
"Yeah. What he said." Malora rested the rifle on one shoulder and moved to stand in front of the slowly moving dais, walking backwards as it came towards her, and fixed the Hutt with a dark smirk. "Gotta hand it to you, Grimo, when I walked in here, I hadn't the slightest clue how I was gonna get in, find Connors, and live to tell the tale, so I guess I owe you a 'thank-you' for walkin' me right through his door," she drawled, nodding at Wade.
Grimo, too furious for words and deciding that now constituted as a 'last resort' situation, curled his ugly tail around the hidden hold-out pistol he kept hidden under his fat folds and pulled it free, reaching for it with surprising swiftness.
Malora was there first, smacking it out of the air with the rifle. She'd been around Hutts long enough to know they usually kept a weapon somewhere, just in case. Mal waggled a finger at Grimo. "And now, I've got my friend, and you've got nothing left. Or, you won't, when we're done with you." She turned her back to him, facing the low metal railing that separated the edge of the room with the open air and long drop into the pit on the other side. It wasn't high enough to be a safety-railing. She'd heard Grimo sometimes liked to have annoying guests pushed off the edge, and anything too high would be a problem for that. No, this was a last safety measure in case of machine malfunction to keep the Hutt's platform from sliding off into the arena. She ran her gaze down the metal 'railways' the dais rolled down, following them to the low grate. It was old, and surprisingly shabby. Maintenance hadn't been anywhere near it in ages. Usually, Hutts were paranoid about details like this, but they were also known to grow overconfident and lazy over time, especially when they went unchallenged for as long as Grimo had.
"See, Big G, if you had just played nice with me earlier when I asked to tour your barracks, this might not be happening right now." Malora raised the rifle, hammering on the railing with the gunstock, once, twice, three times. The old metal shuddered, squealing as the bolts bent. "But you didn't play nice. You took my stuff, trussed me up, and made like you owned me, made me a thing to be passed around, like any old bottle of ale at the table." Another hit. Almost loose enough. Malora kicked at it, and the railing came free, clattering over the side. It hit the sand below with a distant thud. She turned her head a little, face tilted up, gaze cold as Hoth, and looked at the Hutt from the corner of her eyes. "And I'm not much for being a thing."
The dais crawled closer. Malora strode towards it, raised the rifle once more, shot out the platform control panel, stepped out of the way, and smashed it with the gunstock for good measure as it inched past. "Hey, Wade," she said loudly, rifle once again resting on her shoulder as she leaned on one hip. "Doesn't His Rotund Excellency keep a rancor around here?…I think it's dinner time."
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Wade on Aug 22, 2015 5:48:45 GMT -8
"Two, actually! Well, one now." Wade hopped off the dais next to Malora and tapped the controls to open the animal cages below. "The other one choked on something it ate." More or less. With the control box smashed and no resistance from the railing, the slab of duracrete the Hutt sat on simply continued on its way when it reached the edge, the Hutt's eyes going wide(er) with fear as it began to inch over the precipice. When it reached the halfway point and began to tip, the gears that drove it came loose, leaving Grimo balancing precariously on the edge. "Oops. Looks like you got stuck there, buddy. Let me give you a hand with that." He said as he moved around behind the hutt, then gripped the back edge and heaved. Even with half the weight already over, Grimo and his dais were heavy. Especially since the slug kept trying to back away from the edge.
"Little help here?" Mal dropped the rifle and joined him a moment later, and the dais finally tipped the rest of the way over and sent Grimo plummeting to the arena floor below as his remaining rancor and other assorted creatures all peered out of their open enclosures at him. There was a crash as he hit the ground, followed by some kind of hideous hutt swear word. Or maybe it was just the sound they make right before they die. "Well, that was immensely satisfying." He stepped up to the edge and looked over to find Grimo's tail trapped beneath the slab as he tried to crawl away from the approaching monsters, to no avail. "So where to next?" He said as he turned back to Malora.
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Aug 22, 2015 11:19:43 GMT -8
"Wait…" She held up a hand, signaling for Wade to shush, and peered over the edge to watch the scene unfold. Only when the Hutt, bellowing in rage and pain, had disappeared under the pile of pit animals did Malora look away, face a little brighter, list of enemies a little lighter. "Next? Next we get my shit back," she said firmly, pacing towards the pile of dead guards. The smuggler bent, rifling through their pockets for useful goodies. A couple cred-chits, assortment of blades, one datapad, a working comms, and lots of lint. "I'm not running around Myrkr with beads in my hair and my ass hanging out," she grumbled, kicking aside the now-dirty slave girl skirt. "I want my jacket, I want my blaster, and I never thought I'd say this, but GOD do I want my bra." The black bustier looked fantastic, but it was just a cheap imitation. No boning, no real leather, and the edges were rough and sticking her somethin' terrible.
Malora cocked her head at Wade, eyebrows raised in questioning. "Any ideas where they stashed my stuff?"
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Wade on Aug 22, 2015 18:33:30 GMT -8
"Oh, I don't know." He watched her gathering up whatever supplies she could find on the bodies, the swell of her bosom nearly spilling out of the bodice as she bent down and the supple curves of her waist and hips nearly made his mouth go dry, and he suddenly wondered how the hell the guy she'd known before had managed not to see her this way. Force she's sexy. "I kinda like the look of this outfit." He smirked and half expected her to throw something at him, but instead she asked him where they would have stashed her gear.
"My guess would be the storage vault near the armory, but I've got another stop to make first. Won't take long." After stooping to scoop up a rifle out of the hands of one of the guards she'd already gone over, he checked the charge and headed for the small reinforced door at the back of the room, shooting out the camera before he got there then pulling the entire power pack assembly free of the rifle. "Learned this trick from one of the other inmates." Tangling a couple of the wires together, he created a feedback loop in the cell and hung the assembly on the door's key panel, then pulled Mal around the corner just before the entire thing exploded, taking out a fair-sized chunk of wall and the entire latch assembly with it. "See, that's the thing about reinforced doors. They never remember there's a wall right next to it."
Kicking the door in, he burst into the room to find a pair of guards armed and waiting, weapons hoisted to skewer whoever entered in a hail of blasterfire. Naturally, he ducked. The streaks of plasma erupted above him as he moved, snatching up a chunk of wall and hurling it at the face of the furthest guard, where it crushed his nose and shattered to bits. He was on the other guard before he could re-orient to target him, forcing the rifle up and spraying the ceiling as he drove an unyielding fist into the poor weequay's jaw. A kick to his comrade's face settled the matter as they both dropped to the floor unconscious.
"Almost done!" He called out to Malora as he located the master control for the holding cells and deactivated every single door, releasing the less-pleased fighters back into the world to exact their vengeance on a system that had cheated them of their freedom. "There we go. Should give us enough of a distraction to slip out unnoticed. Storage vault's that way." He raised a finger and pointed in the direction of a larger exit on the wall opposite the main entrance.
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Aug 22, 2015 20:03:55 GMT -8
"Huh." She sent Wade an approving expression as she surveyed his work. "Nice. Wouldn't have thought of that myself." Mal added a roguish grin, wheeled around, and headed in the direction Wade was pointing.
It wasn't far to the storage vault. After prying open a few lockers, Malora gathered her things, set them lovingly down on the bench in the middle of the room, and sorted through them to make sure everything was there. So far, so good. Full charge on her DL-44, comms was functioning, no new holes in her precious leather jacket. The smuggler tossed a glance over her shoulder at Wade, eying his bare torso with absolutely nothing other than pure, friendly concern. Yep. Nothing else but that. "You, uh… got a shirt or anything? Weapons? Shoes? Space gets cold, and I have no idea what kind of gear I have for you back on The Unfair Advantage."
She thought about kicking him out while she changed, because it was Wade Connors and this just felt weird, but honestly, the slave outfit didn't cover much. He'd seen most of the goodies already, and they were very short on time. Now was not the moment to get all modest. "That's our ship, by the way. The Unfair Advantage." She turned away from him, wiggling her panties up her hips and under the skirt before literally tearing the damn thing off, throwing it on the floor with no small amount of disgust. Reaching up, she began extraction of the sparkling beads laced through her hair. They dropped out of her dark locks like falling stars, hitting the floor with a musical plink. "I keep forgetting you don't remember all this stuff. And there's Wrench, too, he's waiting for us. He's Fel's badass Astromech. Lost his memory, too, actually. You two should be besties." After about two minutes fiddling with the bodice, hoping she could just ignore the knotted ties in back and peel the thing off, Malora huffed in irritation as her fourth attempt at wriggling out of it failed. Huffing, she swiped her knife from the pile. "And then there's…oh, no wait, that's it. I left Oz and Mack on Nar Shaddaa," she remembered. Reaching back, she screwed up her face in concentration and tried working the blade through the ties, but it was an odd angle, and she couldn't quite get it. "They're not really part of the crew. Mack used to be, but he died. Or so we thought. It was awkward when he showed up again. Poor guy didn't really fit in anymore. We'd all been through too much without him, too many dead friends, too many horrors. Oz we picked up later, absolute genius, tech master, probably never been kissed. Cute little guy." Saw, saw, saw. Nothing was happening. "Oh what the kriff! C'mon!! I am not wearing this shit out of here…"
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
Posts: 169
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Wade on Aug 22, 2015 21:18:47 GMT -8
"I suppose you could always go topless. All the best gladiators are doing it." He'd moved behind her as he spoke and pulled the knife from her fingers as he slipped his other hand inside the back of the bustier to get a decent grip on it and pull the laces away from her skin. A single swipe of the blade separated the lacing from itself and allowed the garment to fall away with not a single mark left behind on her pale, silky flesh. Wade had always been good with knives. Or so he assumed at any rate...
"So that front kick you hit me with back there." He slipped over to the door as she dressed, making no particular effort to avoid watching her, and slipped his head outside for a moment to check for trouble. He didn't find any so closed the door again and glanced back in her direction. "Implants or stims?"
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Aug 24, 2015 22:23:49 GMT -8
She paused mid bra clipping, frowning. "Yyyyeah, uh…neither, actually." It wasn't something she wanted to think about, not only because she didn't have time to really THINK about it, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she wouldn't like the answer when she found it. Malora fastened her bra, wiggled into her pants, and slid her shirt over her head. "No stims, no implants, no modifications, just plain old Malora muscle, I guess." She tossed a winning smuggler smile over her shoulder at Wade, trying to put the thought from her mind. It creeped her out, thinking back on it, and she needed a clear head for the next leg of their trip. She could figure it out back on the ship. "Or maybe it really was the fruit. Either way, it doesn't happen much." The trouble-maker fastened her belt low over her hips. "Well, doesn't happen at ALL, really. Anyway."
Flipping her dark hair over one side of her head, Malora jammed her feet into her boots, put all the right knives in all the right places, and picked up her precious leather jacket. "Ooo, I've missed you, sexy." She shook it out, gave it an approving once-over, kissed the collar, and shrugged it on. "Alright, Gladiator." She slung her pack (sans explosives, which they'd removed) over one shoulder, gave her DL-44 a fancy twirl and dropped it in her holster. "Let's mosey. Ready to go home?"
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
Posts: 169
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Wade on Aug 25, 2015 19:48:37 GMT -8
"Heh. Whatever you say, princess." He knew damn well that was a lot more than "plain old Malora muscle". He'd been hit too many times not to recognize the presence of augmenting factors, and that kick had been anything but normal. He rummaged through a couple of the other lockers as she finished up getting dressed and came up with a shirt that he pulled on as she dropped her blaster into the holster. When she asked him about going home, he shrugged. "Don't have a home. Or at least not one I can remember. One place is just as good as the next." Then he checked outside again before opening the door and stepping back, gesturing to the hall outside with his left hand. "After you."
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Electrix
The First Order
Posts: 146 
Affiliation: The First Order
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Post by Electrix on Aug 27, 2015 9:41:10 GMT -8
Electrix's troops began to set up a FOB. This would be the point of contact for the Empire to began collecting the bounties of Mrykr...
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Aug 29, 2015 20:07:01 GMT -8
"Heh. Whatever you say, princess." He knew damn well that was a lot more than "plain old Malora muscle". He'd been hit too many times not to recognize the presence of augmenting factors, and that kick had been anything but normal. He rummaged through a couple of the other lockers as she finished up getting dressed and came up with a shirt that he pulled on as she dropped her blaster into the holster. When she asked him about going home, he shrugged. "Don't have a home. Or at least not one I can remember. One place is just as good as the next." Then he checked outside again before opening the door and stepping back, gesturing to the hall outside with his left hand. "After you." She'd paused in the doorway, half in half out, and looked over her shoulder to fix Wade with an understanding expression. There was a tiny, enlightened smile at the corner of her lips, blue eyes present but far away at the same time. "Home was just a word, a place to park your ass when you got tired. Couldn't for the life of me understand why people talked about it like it was this great thing to have. To me, it was just wherever I was at the moment, nothin' permanent, nothin' special." The smile grew. "But then I met Fel, and…I finally realized what 'home' was." Malora watched him for a moment before clapping a hand on his arm, once, twice. "It's not a place. It's a person. Well, group of persons. Fel. Wrench and Scrappy. Stealer. Liya. Even Logan. That's home, Connors. It was yours, too, once. You'll see." She plucked her comms from her rucksack and set off down the hall with the confident stride of someone who has a champion ninja gladiator watching their back. At least, she hoped he was watching. The guy was so quiet she had to keep looking over her shoulder to make sure he was still there. After a little creative dodging and nowhere near the amount of head-cracking they'd have done had Wade not let the 'hounds' loose to distract the guards, the pair arrived outside Grimo's palace, still breathing. It was all dark skies and pouring rain, very end-of-the-'verse like, and Malora was soaked before she made it seven feet from the entrance, but that was okay. What wasn't okay was the slave collar sealed around her neck. They hadn't been able to get to the control room before their great escape, and while it was probably harmless now, it was still there, and now there was no conceivable way to remove it. "Kriff." Pulling a trapped strand of drenched hair from the slave-collar for the eighty-ninth time, Malora stomped through the mud, comms in hand, brows pulled together in irritation. "Great! That's just great, a slave-collar necklace, just what I always wanted…" She scanned the blurry horizon with a scowl, eyes squinted against the rain. The speeder bike garage wasn't far. If they could make it there, nab a few bikes… Malora punched in her code and raised the comms to her lips. Wrench! You there, buddy? I found our stray nerf. Finally. Ran into a little trouble, but we'll be headed your way soon. Warm 'er up, will ya? I wanna hit atmo within the hour. Looks like it'll be a clean break, I don't think the authorities care about what happens down here, and if there's anyone following us, well, all Connors has to do is blink and things die, so. Should be okay. |
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor 
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Aug 31, 2015 16:07:18 GMT -8
All was silent for a few moments (honestly long enough for Malora to begin worrying) before the astromech droid replied.
(counterpart,) you were not seeking nerf. You sought Wade Connors. R2-P47 has misunderstood the nature of your endeavor. I estimate the ship will be fully prepped for takeoff in six-point-nine minutes. Should I make ready a small pen or stasis field for the livestock?
Awaiting reply, Wrench looked about the navacomp compartment at the wrist-thick spool of wiring that he had started refurbishing. He was satisfied that his communication was accurate. Takeoff would certainly be achievable in under seven minutes.
Hyperdrive? Well -- (counterpart) had not inquired about hyperdrive. And in Wrench's modified version of normal operating parameters, omitting that information was within acceptable limits.
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
Posts: 169
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Post by Wade on Aug 31, 2015 19:30:08 GMT -8
"I kinda like the necklace." Wade glanced around as they stepped outside into the downpour, then took a moment to simply stand and appreciate the feeling. He raised his face toward the angry sky as Malora engaged her comm, reveling in the feel of the drops as they assaulted his skin. It felt good after the filth of that place, like a cleansing shower to clean off the dirt after you had to trek through a bog. Figuratively speaking, at least. When wrench sent his return message, Wade spun to look at Malora and raised an eyebrow. "Livestock? I'm guessing he doesn't get metaphors."
"Come on." He jerked his head in the direction of the speeder garage, then set off towards it. A part of him wanted to take to the trees and follow her that way, it had been a long time since he'd been out in the open where he could just run, but separating now would be a bad idea. If the guards got the riot under control and managed to mount a pursuit, he wasn't confident in his ability to fend them all off. There was a reason he hadn't fed Grimo to his pets before now, and he knew the slug's death wouldn't be the end of this particular criminal influence on the planet. He didn't know a great deal about the hutt's organization, but one thing he did know was that Grimo was not the top of the food chain. "If we're going to be taking a speeder, you're driving. Last time I tried to pilot something it ended up in the scrap yard. Because I crashed it there."
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Oct 10, 2015 19:20:51 GMT -8
She tried to keep a straight face, she really did, but the mental image of Wade the Nerf in a livestock pen was a little too much, and after the stress of the past few hours, it felt good to chuckle. The grin spread over her face with gusto. Leave it to factory-settings Wrench to be accidentally hilarious. Malora muted her comms and doubled over for a moment, trying to choke down the giggles, waving a hand and nodding at Wade's words as he headed for the garage.
Oh, Wrench. Never change.
With some effort, Mal controlled herself and flicked the comms channel back on, trying to sound professional. "Yeah, uh… sorry, that's a negative on the stasis pen. Was using figurative speech. Metaphors. Don't worry, dude. You'll get the hang of it eventually. So, no actual nerfs, just Wade, although if he gets annoying, I might take you up on that suggestion." She paused, shaking water off the comms and wiping drenched hair out of her eyes. Never once in her time with Fel had she ever spoken to R2-P47 like he was a droid, or addressed him as anything other than 'Wrench'. She talked to him like she talked to the rest of her friends, same tones, same jokes, and quirky Wrench had always understood her. Mal knew she should probably change her communication habits with him, for now, if simply for safety's sake, but she just…couldn't. It felt unnatural. Wrench was still Wrench, even if he couldn't remember it, and until she knew there was no way to reverse his condition, she was gonna keep on goin' how she was goin' and hope her attitude jogged his memory.
Still, she sometimes felt a little like a fail babysitter who had no idea how to handle her charge. When it came to Wrench, Fel's shoes were way too large for her to fill the right way. Didn't mean she wouldn't keep trying, though. "If we don't hit a tree or drown in this rainstorm, we should be at the landing ramp in about twenty. Not sure where we're goin' yet once we reach space, but I'll let you know."
Comm off, Malora trudged through the soggy mess of ground as Wade disappeared into the garage, and followed him inside. The rain splattering against the roof sent a fuzzy roaring echo through the vast room like patchy white noise, but she managed to pick up his words with a little straining. "Yeah? So we can scratch 'getaway driver' off your long list of Things I Can Do Really Kriffin' Well, then. No problem. I can drive."
She perused the bikes with a sharp eye, looking for booby traps. The type of folk Grimo's establishment attracted tended to trust no one, especially with their heavily modified rides. Sure enough, most of the swoops hid more than a few deadly surprises for the unsuspecting thief. She crouched, inspecting a complicated trigger under the seat of one that she could probably disarm, if she had an hour. "Damn cagey spacers..." It took her another four minutes to find one that, as far as she could tell, was not going to explode in her face, and after a very thorough look-see, Malora slapped the side of the dirty vehicle. "This one'll do." It was old but sturdy, less crazy modifications than the others, clearly not cared about as much. The fit would be tight, since it looked like it sat about one and a half people very uncomfortably, but a quick inspection told her it would get them where they needed to go. Straddling the seat, Mal leaned forward, fingers prying the top off the ignition. From there, it was easy to hotwire, and the bike rumbled to life under her. She pulled it around, pausing in front of the sheet of water pouring down in front of the garage door.
"Let's mosey, Connors, c'mon." The smuggler looked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised in expectation, and scooted as far forward as she could on the thin seat. She had to bend a little forward to reach the handlebars anyway. "Well? Get on. Unless you'd rather walk."
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
Posts: 169
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Wade on Oct 11, 2015 16:23:15 GMT -8
"I'm also a terrible cook." He said as he climbed onto the seat behind her, or rather with her, and settled in against her back. His arms slipped around her waist as she gunned the repulsor engines and he barely had a hold of her before they roared out of the garage and took a long looping turn toward wherever she had parked her ship. Ever since he could remember, which wasn't very long, he'd wanted to know more about who he'd been, but at the same time been terrified of what that might be. Every time he'd had a flashback, it was associated with pain and trauma, feelings and images of suffering and death. He'd hoped that was only because of his surroundings, and now this woman had seemingly confirmed that there had been more to him than the monster he caught in glimpses. Except her interpretation of him seemed completely at odds with the bits and pieces he remembered.
Then again, there was still that issue of control. Anyone who kept themselves on that short a leash had to have a gorram good reason for it. He leaned forward further, pressing his chest against her back and resting his chin on her shoulder, balancing easily on the bike as she banked around a cluster of trees. When they finally reached the ship and she pulled the speeder into the hold and shut it down, he leaned back again, pulling her with him and holding her a bit longer than was strictly necessary. He couldn't say why, but she felt good against him. Far better than any other woman he'd had at the arena. Like there was more to it than simply lust and passion and adrenaline. He let her go finally and slid off the speeder, casting his gaze around the hold of the small ship. None of it looked familiar to him. "What was I hiding? Back when you knew me. Nobody gets that uptight without a dark side they're trying to hide.
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Nov 16, 2015 5:52:20 GMT -8
Wrench trundled through the dark hulk of the Unfair Advantage (though nowhere in the ships' database is it referred to as such -- he has found six previous entries with regards to serial numbers, registry changes and identifiers, but never has the ship officially been registered as the 'Unfair Advantage.' The droid makes a mental note to begin reviewing terran colloquialism to establish the parameters of the phrase. Until such time, he would internally refer to the ship as the 'M.S.S. Ural, GN38401' -- the last officially registered moniker and serial the vessel had known.) Knowing that counterpart Karanamalora_01 and the man Wadeconnors_090 were approaching, he set about activating systems they might enjoy, such as heat, light, and other minor internal systems, such as the 'fresher and galley, which had been previously deactivated for energy savings. All the while, he dragged behind himself a harness of wiring and connectors that was 'in progress.'
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Karana Malora
The Unfair Advantage
I don't believe in a no-win scenario.
Posts: 246
Affiliation: The Fel Crew (Unfair Advantage)
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Karana Malora on Nov 18, 2015 19:13:07 GMT -8
He couldn't say why, but she felt good against him. Far better than any other woman he'd had at the arena. Like there was more to it than simply lust and passion and adrenaline. He let her go finally and slid off the speeder, casting his gaze around the hold of the small ship. None of it looked familiar to him. "What was I hiding? Back when you knew me. Nobody gets that uptight without a dark side they're trying to hide. Speeder parked, Malora pushed her driving goggles up on her forehead and stomped mud off her boots, shaking water from her limbs like a wet dog. "You never talked about your past. Like, ever. Not to me, at least." She paused in front of him, frowning, hands on her hips as she scanned his face while she thought back. "Asked you about it a few times, actually, but you'd get this…look on your face, clam up on me, so I quit asking after a while. The one time you actually looked like you were fixin' to spill, the Jekk attacked and you died. Or…yeah. We thought you died. But, clearly…" Malora ran her gaze down his front and swept a hand in the air, gesturing at his current very-much-alive status. "…not dead. Just no longer a caterpillar." Maybe if she screwed up her eyes enough, he'd look more like old Connors. She squinted up at him, testing her theory. "Nnnnope. Still a gladiator. Guess I'll get used to it, eventually. Anyway, yeah." She clapped him on the side of the arm and smiled wide. "No idea why you had a stick up your ass in the past, but I like sans stick Wadeypie 2.0 much better. I'll tell you somethin', though. When there was a fight, if combat came calling, you were the first one in the bloody chaos, and your kill tally was always highest. That pure white knight mask would fall right off your face sometimes, and you'd enter this…'zone'. You liked it, and you were good at it, and you liked that you were good at it." She studied him for a moment. "If you want, we can dig later, see what we find on your older version, but let's get in the air first. C'mon. Wrench!" The smuggler brought the landing ramp up and motioned for him to follow her, clomping past him into the UA, mind buzzing with everything from possible hyperspace routes to 'I want food right now'. They'd made good time, despite the rain, and had pulled in a bit earlier than the twenty minutes she'd given Wrench on the comm. "We're home!"
Speaking of comms, hers had been lighting up like a Life Day Tree for the past ten minutes, but she could hear R2 rollers in the hallway in front of her. Messages could wait. As the Astromech rounded the corner toting his spider-web of electronic wiring, Mal hurried forward with a grin. "Man, am I glad to see you." She waited until he was in front of her before couching at his level and gently planting her rain-wet hands on either side of his wide dome. She paused there for a moment, just looking at Wrench, trying not to think about Fel, failing miserably. For some reason, a memory flew up from the dust in her mind and played across her vision.
The Dar'Yaim, a few months into riding shotgun with Fel. It was just the three of them, at that point. Fel was in the cockpit, (because where else would Galdaart Fel ever want to be?) hadn't left it for hours, pouring over charts. She'd brought him a bowl of lukewarm instant noodles, definitely no one's favorite, but they hadn't had a job in weeks and their supplies were running low. She remembered his face, a little blank and a lotta uncertainty, like someone had just handed the battle-scarred pilot a box of makeup and a bra with no explanation. He squinted up at her from his chair. Mal watched him fumble mentally for a moment before crossing her arms, raising an eyebrow and adding a smirk. "What? No one's ever brought you crappy food before?"
Fel blinked, looking the tiniest bit embarrassed at his own response, the side of his mouth twitching up to mirror hers. Sometimes, her sarcastic quips were a little too fast for him to play with…or maybe it was because they were coming from her. But today, he caught the ball. "Wrench brings me half moldy energy bars every once in a blue."
"Yeah? Bet those are good."
"Can't quite tell after the first few bites. Easier if you don't chew much."
She laughed. He looked pleased with that. They watched each other for a moment or two, both somehow very comfortable yet uncomfortable in each other's presence, both very aware of it. Fel looked at his bowl, wound a few curly strands around a chopstick, and took a bite. He took his time with it. Mal watched. "Mmm," he nodded, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Best damn crappy food I've had in days."
Mal leaned on one hip in the doorway, smile widening. "Yeah?"
"Beats those bars, definitely."
"I'll let Wrench know he can hang up his chef hat, then." She paused, standing straight and raking her hair back from her face. "Speaking of bad food, we're gettin' low again. It's ramen and watery caf for the next week, and then we're scrapin' the shelves."
Fel gestured to the main comms and then at the charts scattered over the nav computer. "Been working on that. Rounded us up a few job options, nothing fancy, but it's a payday and we need it. Was gonna run them by you once I get the info sorted. Shouldn't be too long, now."
"Roger that." Mal yawned a little, hooking a thumb over her shoulder. "I'll leave you to it, Cap'n. Gonna crash for a bit, if I have time?"
In truth, he could've laid it all out right then and there, details be damned. Fel nodded. "Go for it, partner. I'll comm you when I've got it worked out."
She smiled tightly, gave him a mock salute, and started to turn away. "So…" She paused in the doorway again, angled herself back towards her Captain, and cocked her head. Her wintry blue eyes were clear, inquisitive, and her sideways half-smile was warm. "…you good up here, then?"
Fel leaned back a little, bowl resting in his lap, gently tapping his fingers against its sides. He looked up at her, at the little smudge of dirt on her chin and the freckles across her cheeks, the way her hair fell untamed around her shoulders, that quirky little twitch at the corner of her lips, her empty holster at her hip. He looked at the scuffs on her boots, the worn black leather hugging every curve, the sass that never quite left her posture no matter how she was standing. He breathed her scent, familiar now, sharp, sweet, cool. He traced the lines of her face quickly, lingered just a bit at her lips. He found her eyes, held them for a moment, caught a rare glimpse of the colorful fire, the iron will, the resilient survivor behind that curtain of devil-may-care swagger that she so often drew over herself.
He had Wrench, the Dar'Yaim, a little money, a lotta sky, and fuel to burn. He had freedom, and he had her. And he wondered… how could he not be good?
He was looking too long. "Yeah." Fel gave a short, acknowledging nod, smiled a little, dropped his eyes quickly, and ate his noodles with a quiet contentment he rarely felt. "I'm good."
Mal tapped the door jamb with her fingers. Either she'd completely missed the uncharacteristically long, meaningful gaze, or she had the good grace to pretend. Probably the former. " 'kay." She spun on her heels and left.
Fel set his bowl to balance, and then bent back over his datapad, listening to her heavy footsteps. Remembering he'd forgotten to actually thank her for the chow, his attention darted for the cockpit door. "Oh… hey, 'Rana?" he called out.
"You're welcome, Cap'n," she called back, a smile in her voice, waving a hand as she disappeared around the corner. She'd spend the next twenty minutes wolfing down her food and following Wrench around as he worked, asking him too many questions about whatever system he was trying to improve or talking about the latest sensor package upgrades she'd run across on the black market. Eventually, she'd find her way to the bunk and a two hour nap, wake up to Fel's voice over the comm, and make her way to the cockpit to find out what their next adventure would be…
Malora blinked, clearing the 'far away 'nd long ago' from her 'here and now' with some effort. (Suddenly, she wanted noodles.) She'd split from her friends for one reason: to find Wade Connors. From there, they'd rebuild the team, regroup, and tackle their end-game: Find Galdaart Fel. Finding out Fel was missing had left Malora in a sort of no-nonsense, focused 'smuggler business' mode, ready to grab the 'verse by the throat and squeeze until she got what she needed, but with the first leg of her job done and Connors back in the game (sort of), she could finally relax a little. Well…maybe. Depends what was waiting for her in her messages. "Thanks for watching the ship for me," she smiled, following Wrench's photoreceptor with her eyes as it swiveled a little. Mal nodded at the net of wiring trailing behind him. "Whatchu been workin' on? Oh! Wait, introductions." She rose, pointing back and forth between Wade and Wrench. "Wrench, this is Wade Connors. Dunno if you remember him or not, which is kind of hilarious because he doesn't remember you, either. He got a shave and a haircut, so he looks a little different. He's part of our crew, though, and that means we've gotta watch his back like you and I watch each other's. Yeah? And…
Wade, this is my counterpart, Wrench. Best damn R2 in the galaxy, and he makes a hell of a co-pilot." |
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Wade
The Unfair Advantage
Posts: 169
Traffic Light: Red
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Post by Wade on Nov 24, 2015 20:00:25 GMT -8
"Beats me, pal." Speeder parked, Malora pushed her driving goggles up on her forehead and stomped mud off her boots, shaking water from her limbs like a wet dog. "You never talked about your past. Like, ever. Not to me, at least." She paused in front of him, frowning, hands on her hips as she scanned his face while she thought back. "Asked you about it a few times, actually, but you'd get this…look on your face, clam up on me, so I quit asking after a while. The one time you actually looked like you were fixin' to spill, the Jekk attacked and you died. Or…yeah. We thought you died. But, clearly…" Malora ran her gaze down his front and swept a hand in the air, gesturing at his current very-much-alive status. "…not dead. Just no longer a caterpillar." Maybe if she screwed up her eyes enough, he'd look more like old Connors. She squinted up at him, testing her theory. "Nnnnope. Still a gladiator. Guess I'll get used to it, eventually. Anyway, yeah." She clapped him on the side of the arm and smiled wide. "No idea why you had a stick up your ass in the past, but I like sans stick Wadeypie 2.0 much better. I'll tell you somethin', though. When there was a fight, if combat came calling, you were the first one in the bloody chaos, and your kill tally was always highest. That pure white knight mask would fall right off your face sometimes, and you'd enter this…'zone'. You liked it, and you were good at it, and you liked that you were good at it." She studied him for a moment. "If you want, we can dig later, see what we find on your older version, but let's get in the air first. C'mon. Wrench!" The smuggler brought the landing ramp up and motioned for him to follow her, clomping past him into the UA, mind buzzing with everything from possible hyperspace routes to 'I want food right now'. They'd made good time, despite the rain, and had pulled in a bit earlier than the twenty minutes she'd given Wrench on the comm. "We're home!"
Speaking of comms, hers had been lighting up like a Life Day Tree for the past ten minutes, but she could hear R2 rollers in the hallway in front of her. Messages could wait. As the Astromech rounded the corner toting his spider-web of electronic wiring, Mal hurried forward with a grin. "Man, am I glad to see you." She waited until he was in front of her before couching at his level and gently planting her rain-wet hands on either side of his wide dome. She paused there for a moment, just looking at Wrench, trying not to think about Fel, failing miserably. For some reason, a memory flew up from the dust in her mind and played across her vision.
Malora blinked, clearing the 'far away 'nd long ago' from her 'here and now' with some effort. (Suddenly, she wanted noodles.) She'd split from her friends for one reason: to find Wade Connors. From there, they'd rebuild the team, regroup, and tackle their end-game: Find Galdaart Fel. Finding out Fel was missing had left Malora in a sort of no-nonsense, focused 'smuggler business' mode, ready to grab the 'verse by the throat and squeeze until she got what she needed, but with the first leg of her job done and Connors back in the game (sort of), she could finally relax a little. Well…maybe. Depends what was waiting for her in her messages. "Thanks for watching the ship for me," she smiled, following Wrench's photoreceptor with her eyes as it swiveled a little. Mal nodded at the net of wiring trailing behind him. "Whatchu been workin' on? Oh! Wait, introductions." She rose, pointing back and forth between Wade and Wrench. "Wrench, this is Wade Connors. Dunno if you remember him or not, which is kind of hilarious because he doesn't remember you, either. He got a shave and a haircut, so he looks a little different. He's part of our crew, though, and that means we've gotta watch his back like you and I watch each other's. Yeah? And…
Wade, this is my counterpart, Wrench. Best damn R2 in the galaxy, and he makes a hell of a co-pilot." "Pleasure." Wade offered the little droid a genuine smile of greeting as introductions were made, but his eyes barely halted in their examination of his surroundings. From what he'd been told, this place had been his home, once upon a time. He'd hoped that exposure to something familiar would spark some kind of recognition, but so far this ship meant nothing more to him than a way off this planet. It took two steps to cross the small cockpit and drop into the nearest available chair, and Wade directed his gaze out the rain-soaked canopy as Mal finished her introductions. "Looks like you've got a couple messages." He indicated a light flashing on and off on the pilot's console as she took her seat. "Could be something important." He leaned back in the chair, crossed his arms, and planted his feet up on the nav console. "Where we heading next?" |
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Nov 25, 2015 5:23:00 GMT -8
Wrench committed this form, this Wade, to his memory. His voice, his physical form, and began a running tally of physical manifestations and traits, so to better read the individual's reactions. The astromech mentioned offhandedly that he had prepared a second berth in the crew quarters, the third, lower cabin on Port side, furthest from the bridge -- incidentally Wade's former cabin (though it's likely Wrench has no real memory of this, nor the gladiator.) Their path took them in the direction of the bridge, and so the small droid followed, dragging its bundle of wiring behind. There was discussion on the flight deck, so the droid did not venture any opinion or interject with a status report. If one was needed, it would be asked for, and instead remained in the avionics antechamber behind the flight deck, diligently reassembling the hyperdrive...
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