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Post by Sinina Riso on Nov 30, 2016 20:08:46 GMT -8
I didn't mean Naboo is rough... I mean I can handle myself. Sure I'm no Jedi. I'm no Pirate. I'm not a Sith lord. Doesn't mean i am helpless.
*She was glad to hear that she could get her things, she should also tell them she would be gone a while..She kinda left without telling them.. She bites her lip, that will be an awkward chat. She shakes her head a bit, they will get over it. She looks at him curiously, where were they going now.. He wasn't so keen on filling her in at the start of things..
She had kept quiet through his exchange for the most part, she didn't know enough about what he was selling to be of much use in negotiating anything about it. Though it did seem to be like a normal banter on price and quality like anything else would be. She would try to learn as much from it as she could. She bites her lip softly, and when things fell to shooting she was not much surprised. Mostly because she could already sense his false motives. With Jashins quick enough actions alot of their trouble was solved it seemed. She lept, flipping in the air to land just infront of the mercenary, she slashes downward at the mans weapon as she lands.*
I would appreciate if you showed restraint in shooting him again. You will aslo give me your helmet.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 30, 2016 20:29:48 GMT -8
Jashin was flat on his back, gritting his teeth. "Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid." He grated out under his breath. Checking himself over, he saw the large carbon score across his heart - and he belatedly realized that if he had forgone the armored cuirass not three hours before, he'd likely be dead. The other hit was another story, punching through his left shoulder, it had pretty much turned his deltoids to slag. Even now, his left arm hung limp and useless at his side, his blaster having fallen to the floor. Rolling to a kneeling position, then picking himself up off the ground - scooping up the blaster with his right hand as he stood - he made his way over to Sinina.
She looked...well Jashin had to admit she looked rather stunning. A dark gray echani woman with a sword of light, could you really beat that? Jashin would have taken a second to admire the sight, but he had business on the brain. Maybe later, he'd ponder on those images. But now...
I would appreciate if you showed restraint in shooting him again. You will aslo give me your helmet. She said, more like proclaimed to the man. Heh, she really was a princess, even if she insisted she wasn't one. The merc, stumbling backward, his weapon cut in half, practically spluttered in indignation. Y-you're a Jedi! Jashin coming up then, shrugged with his good shoulder. "She's a Jedi, I'm a pirate, and you're dead." In that exact moment, Jashin right hand swung up, the barrel of his blaster hitting the bounty hunter's chin - a flash of red, the scream of a blaster, the smell of acrid smoke: the hunter's helmet flew up into the air, before landing on the ground with a clang, the hunter's now headless body falling over, smoking. Jashin hadn't even let the body fall to the ground before he was walking away, already pondering business once more. "...Damn it. He only wired half. That puts us at forty at the port, twenty-five here, for sixty-five total." Irritated, Jashin picked up the man's body, slinging it into the back of the speeder truck. Retrieving the crate of explosives, his weapons, and then the two deactivated droids, he threw them into the back as well. "Check the helmet comp, if it isn't fried. Look up what I was worth bounty wise."
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Post by Sinina Riso on Dec 1, 2016 4:25:43 GMT -8
Not a Jedi.. If I was... I could possibly feel bad about this..
*She responded to the hunter quite flatly. She heard the shots behind her from Jashin, and before the helmet could hit the ground, she grabbed it from the air, emptying it, and walked back to Jashin. She deactivated the red blade of her saber, the red glow about her and the hunter disappearing. She looked at his shoulder, bit her lip, and dug through a pouch on the utility belt she'd revealed built into the shorter version of the dress. She hands him a bacta patch for his shoulder as she slips the helmet onto her head, an odd site with the dress.
She started to fiddle with the helmet, quickly catching on to who this hunter had his set. She began looking up what Jashin was asking, she was surprised when she found out what it was, and passed along the information to him. She when finished pulled the helmet off her head, holding it under her arm as she stood there looking at him again.*
25... plus you still have the goods you were trying to get ride of...
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Post by Deleted on Dec 1, 2016 11:51:15 GMT -8
"Karking T-visor wearing bucket-head karking son of a motherless -" The cursing started up, increasing and decreasing with volume as Jashin paced in a wide circle. He accepted the bacta patch without thanks, his eyes scanning the berths as she applied it. It stung like a bantha kick but it would speed up the healing process - the wound, though, was the least o his problems. It would take at leasy eighty thousand to get the Sable back up and running, forget hyperspace worthy. Which meant, of course, that he would have to find another buyer. "Alright, new plan. We wait in the truck for my shoulder to regenerate. Shouldn't take too long - Firrerreo healing factor plus bacta means...maybe an hour? After that, we repost the advert, and see who bites." Retreating back to the truck, checking on the back occupants to make sure all three were still dead - hey, he'd seen odder things in his time - he sat in the driver's seat and leaned back, closing his eyes. "Wake me up in an hour, sweetheart. And...thanks. I'm a little rusty on the draw."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An hour passed, far too briefly for Jashin's taste. He had pleasant dreams, dreams of gray skinned woman to be exact. But, as he heard her voice and felt her touch, he rushed back to reality, jerking awake with a start. "Kark! I'm awake, I'm awake." Checking his shoulder, he saw the damage had been healed, and, moving the joint experimentally, winced only slightly. It was sore as a gundark, but it was healed. Shaking his head, taking out his datapad, he reposted the advert for weapons and explosives. As he waited for a reply, he rechecked his weapons, recharging his blaster, checking his sword. Really just passing the time. When the datapad beeped, finally, he responded to it quickly, nodding at what he saw. "Yeah...yeah this should be better. Smuggler this time. Probably won't pull any kark. They're a might hair more trustworthy than Hunters at least. Maybe. Depends on the smuggler."
Climbing out of the speeder truck, closing and then leaning on the door - weapons crate and rifles and such at his feet, Jashin crossed his arms, blaster in hand like last time.
"Alright, this time...keep the sabers out and in plain view, 'k sweetheart? Let's uh, be a little preemptive this time." In all honesty, Jashin's near death experience had been a little...jarring. He knew, of course, that Zordo the Hutt had to have Hunters on his tail. But Jashin had always figured he'd be good enough to avoid or kill them. But the Mandalorian lookalike had come close, real close, and it dawned on Jashin how long it had been - how long it had been since he had worked as an Assassin, trained, and even thought like a killer. The old Jashin would have leapt into action, wearing armor and all manner of killing arsenal, just like Sinina had. But now...
Was he going soft? Was this life as a criminal, as opposed to the hard and regimented life of a Carta assassin, making him weak? Jashin shook his head at that, focussing on the job at hand. This was something to contemplate later. Hesitation, even the barest of it, would get him killed. He could relax once they were out of the Spaceport.
And so they waited.
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Post by Sinina Riso on Dec 1, 2016 17:12:34 GMT -8
Sure, I guess so.
*She frowns as he said to wake him up in an hour. She was an alarm clock now? What was she supposed to do in the mean time. She shook her head, biting her tongue to keep from outbursting at him. She rested her own eyes as she meditated for an hour. Then when the time had past she opened her eyes and reached across to rouse him*
Maybe I was wrong.. you do curse more then I do..
*She rolled her eyes as she picked up the bucce again. She turned the helmet over, and tinkered away at the inside of it. She kept tinkering as he looked for who he wanted to meet with next. When he spoke again, she set down the helmet and climbed out. She walks around the side of the truck, she leaned against it, making sure her saber was visible, she was eager for this to be overwith. She looks up at him as she crossed her arms across her chest.*
So, this one should go over smoothly then?
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Post by Deleted on Dec 1, 2016 17:34:02 GMT -8
"Of course I curse more than you. I'm not a princess."
Jashin readjusted his weapon belt, fidgeting with his left arm. Kark, it was sore. Maybe he was getting too old for - nope. Nope. Not even going to explore that line of thought. Hell, twenty-six cycles was plenty young. Young enough for all kinds of things. Killing, definitely. Being an assassin...probably. Pirating definitely. His eyes looked over at Sinina. Marriage? Kids? All the rest that entailed? "Bwahahahah! Uh, sorry. Yeah, sure, this one should go smoother." The laughter bubbled up out of nowhere, half maniacal, half...something else: that indefinable quality that was Jashin. Yeah, right. Kids. Marriage. He couldn't even get over his species' xenophobia, let alone, well, THAT. What then motivated him to keep glancing at the woman?
"I, uh...ahem." Whoo. Great start. Smooth there slick. Agent double oh seven? More like agent double oh whaaat. "Uh. Hrm. Look, I'm sorry I'm brusque with you sometimes. Before I got here, all I had for company was a very passive aggressive Jedi Master. Makes you a little, uh, socially stunted. And considering I'm not the most socially, uh, dependable to begin with...yeah. So, just, uh, kark, don't take things I say personally, ok?"
Insert awkward pause in three, two, one...
"..."
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Dec 1, 2016 19:59:14 GMT -8
“Oh,” said Jemima, whirling around to look at the woman who spoke. The young doctor’s hand had gone over her heart before hastily bringing it back down with a blush. “Sorry, I thought...well, she’s...she’s, I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She just became catatonic.” She glanced down, and noticed that the girl was finally looking...at her. But she didn’t seem any more responsive beyond that. Even the stare of her eyes was blank. It unnerved her, but her concern for the young girl overrode anything else. “She started screaming, and she was...I don’t know how I know, but I’m quite certain she was in a lot of pain.” She stroked the girls red hair, combing it gently, “More than most humans can take.” The girl’s eyes were definitely looking at her. She was aware, alert, probably hearing everything, but unable to speak for some reason. Scanning her over with her eyes, the brunette caught sight of the girl’s fingers trying to move. It was a stroke of some sort! But she was already recovering. That was some serious healing potency. What was it with Adrien’s crew and fast-healing folk? Not that she was really complaining, mind. If they all healed like this, she’d have far less to worry about.
But Anzhelina didn’t, thought Jemima bitterly. Just like the first crew she started out with, the one that took her away from Coruscant. She imagined it would be a grand adventure, filled with fun and jolly. She watched them die, and even as quick as the launched escape pod was, it didn’t remove the screams in her head. Somehow, she could hear the voices of her friends as they were murdered or worse. She was certain it was only her imagination, but was certain she felt their pain as surely as if she herself had been hurt. Her medical training told her it was all psychological. Survivor’s guilt, that was what the doctors at the RDMC called it.
She still wasn’t sure how she alone escaped out of everyone. Blinking, she brought herself back to the present, back to matters and someone whom she could tend to. She stroked the girl’s head affectionately, with a look of grim determination on her face, “You’re going to be all right,” said Jemima, “I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”
I feel her hand running through me hair, it's a gentle touch, and it feels nice. And she says something strange. I'm not human, am I? More than most humans can take? That is very curious. Then she tells me that she will keep me from harm. I try to smile reassuringly at her, and appreciatively. I like her. She's nice. Struggling for all I'm worth, I manage to raise my chest up a little, and I manage to tilt my head and move my lips. But whatever I tried to say, which is mostly "Thank you.", I end up making a really lame gurgling sound. After two rounds of that, I stop trying. But it's progress! I'm recovering, pretty fast. Now, as long as I don't need to get to a toilet in the next five minutes... |
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Post by Sinina Riso on Dec 1, 2016 20:23:22 GMT -8
uhuh.. Sure. That's it. Princess...
*Sithspit. She muttered. If she were a princess she wouldn't be following the crew around. She'd be in some palace being pampered all day. The center of attention to maids, servants, anyone. She shakes her head. The thought of it, only made her think of how Te'oma was clearly the fan favourite of their mother. It made her so angry. Just once and a while she wanted to be noticed. To feel important. She watched as he fidgeted his arm. She sighs as she stood up and walked to him.*
Not fully up to snuff yet? Good. I am getting a little eager to get my stuff..
*She admitted. She had chance to clean clothes and repair them. But having more then what she wore would be nice. She was broken from her thoughts of change of attire and that, by him speaking again, he stuttered...that was weird. Different. An apology? From a pirate? And an explanation? What was going on. Who was this man and where was Jashin.*
Well...Uh.. That's unexpected.. I.. i don't even know what to say.. That just may be the nicest thing I've heard you say... and you only cursed once.. I'm impressed. I was raised in high circles here on Naboo... I probably have enough social etiquette for two or three people. I am sure I can find it somewhere to not hold it against you forever. If I have to..
*She walked closer as she spoke, hands still crossed over her chest, she stopped in front of him, looking up at him curious as to where this sudden nice streak had popped from. She scans his face seriously and throws him a coy smile as she said she wouldn't hold it against him. She tilted her head to the side as she watched his face for reactions to what she said, trying to read what it said about his thoughts. She wasn't trying to draw it out with the force, she always thought that was rude.*
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Post by Deleted on Dec 1, 2016 21:21:27 GMT -8
"That just may be the nicest thing I've heard you say"
"Don't get used to it." Jashin was quick to retort, his eyes snapping away from her and scanning the berths. Admittedly, though, he was finding it harder and harder to focus on the job. Inevitably, they came back to regard Sinina, then flicked back up to scan the berths. Sinina, berths, Sinina, berths, Sinina, Sinina. His eyes stopped searching, and he looked at her, golden eyes wide - he blinked, first one set of eyelids, then his second horizontal set. He flashed a smile - showing a little more tooth than necessary, considered flirtatious or masculine on Firrerre - his developed canines with their sharp points clearly visible.
"And you only cursed once.. I'm impressed. I was raised in high circles here on Naboo... I probably have enough social etiquette for two or three people."
"I can refrain from cursing. As well as 'acquire the high-born presumptions of my rightful station, as heir to the Court and one of noble station aught.'" He said, assuming the highborn Imperial accent of nobility. Gagging a little afterward, he shrugged unapologetically. "I just...choose not to." Jashin shrugged. He separated from his father and the Court of Serenno with no qualms or second thought. That life, the life of nobility...that wasn't him. No matter what anyone said.
"I am sure I can find it somewhere to not hold it against you forever."
Jashin eyed the woman as she moved to stand in front of him, her eyes seeking his own. Her coy smile put him on guard, though, and instinctively he screened his thoughts, projecting desired emotions. Consciously he had to fight to lower those guards; the downside of rigorous and unforgiving mental training. Nothing in her words or tone indicated she was manipulating him...there was nothing to be concerned about. But, he was concerned. Perhaps on a subconscious level, but still, concerned. Would he not be able to move past this? What, without voicing the words into the air? "Sinina." Jashin licked his lips, struggling to find words for the complex issue that he only really become aware of that morning. "...Let's stop the games. I know, and you know, and you should know that I know that you know. You know?" Jashin's eyes flicked upwards, as if counting, before flicking back down to hers. "That is to say...I'm not exactly the settle down type. I get into...a lot of trouble. That, and Firrerreo aren't exactly known for tolerance and compassion. Or gentle mating practices. There's a reason we have sharp teeth and regenerative ability. And I...I get into a lot of trouble." Jashin cleared his throat, looking across the berths. Besides a single security officer who looked them over before proceeding on his patrol, nothing seemed amiss. "So you should know, no matter how human or Echani I appear...that I am an animal. It's in my genes. I growl. I snarl. I bite. And if you get too close...well, I might just bite you. I mean that metaphorically...and literally."
And, in that instant, Jashin snarled - a true and real bestial growl, a primitive sound from deep in Jashin's throat better suited to some wild thing in the underbrush than a "civilized" sentient. With it he bared his teeth, his face turning into a rictus of primal animal rage, and, menacingly, he snapped his jaws, his teeth coming together with a decisive *snap!* that could sheer through flesh and muscle. For, Firrerreo were beautiful, many agreed: but theres was a wild beauty, a feral beauty. And, if anything, they were as dangerous and cold as they were attractive. This, was something Sinina needed to learn - and Jashin highly preferred she learned it now than later.
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Post by Sinina Riso on Dec 2, 2016 4:33:04 GMT -8
I never said you couldn't do those things. Just that you hadn't shown them yet. Its easy to tell that you hide parts of yourself. I don't need the force to tell me that. Who said anything about settling down?
*Sin smiles, she was right, she had thought she'd caught him looking, she stands tall as she could, likely still shorter then he was. She didn't know why she kept looking, she could only think her interest stemmed from her time with the Sisters, Rancors, their distaste towards most men. She turned her head to scan behind them as well, keeping her force senses attuned to sense for the approach of others. She wasn't a very large person, she wasn't intimidating in appearance..*
Just because you call me Princess, doesn't mean that all I am is a helpless little girl. My mother was Matriarch of the Nightsisters. If at 5 years old I wasn't scared of fully grown Rancors, you aren't going to either. Animals can be tamed. Just try me.
*She taunted, even with all his shows of what he was, she didn't back down, she didn't get scared, instead her posture shifted from that of her Nubian upbringing, her posture broadcasting more of a defiance, she would seem more dominant then complacent. Her smile changed from coy, it looked like it itself hide secrets.*
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Preacher
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Post by Preacher on Dec 2, 2016 8:14:47 GMT -8
Silas watched as the freed slaves were cared for by the local gendarmes and medical personnel. They looked like scared, lost sheep, uncertain, some outright fearful. But there was also the occasional glimmer of individuality and hope, which was the spark he had so yearned to see. The civilians were mostly disembarked, and the Preacher looked around to see Ms. Ryzer engrossed in conversation with a local authority, and the pilot, Weston, likewise busied. Neassa was being seen to by a medevac EMT -- none too happily, and Silas caught her eye for a moment, but did not intrude, though he found he wanted badly to speak with her, be near her.
Shrugging this off and burying it deep, he donned his coat and hat, patting the Law in his satchel to verify its presence and moved off, into the spaceport, buttoning his jacket against the wind. They had touched down in a ramshackle area of ill repute, which seemed befitting their Captain's lifestyle and image, and Silas had grown accustomed to receiving sidelong glances from passerby due to his allegiances and choice of travelling companions. They were a strange assortment, but as far as the offworlder could tell, no more so than any other group of sentients he had encountered. He passed by several derelict vessels, stripped of usable equipment or graffitied and burned out, and more than a few active ships of varying types, all unknown and varying degrees of interesting / ugly / wondrous to the Preacher, before coming upon a repulsortruck, and two sentients deep in conversation. In the bed of the truck, lying atop an oiled cloth, stood several weapons. A merchant. Perhaps he would have the items the Preacher sought.
Silas could not help but notice the two androids, and armored man-of-arms crumpled a half dozen paces off, but tried his best to pay it no mind. Approaching, he spoke, to nobody in particular, since he couldn't be sure from attire nor posture who was 'in charge.'
Good day. Perhaps you can help me with something I am looking to purchase...
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2016 9:01:05 GMT -8
"Just because you call me Princess, doesn't mean that all I am is a helpless little girl. My mother was Matriarch of the Nightsisters. If at 5 years old I wasn't scared of fully grown Rancors, you aren't going to either. Animals can be tamed. Just try me."
The man, Silas, approached, but by the time he arrived Jashin was already unfocussed from the mission, intent on Sinina. Holding up a finger to the man, indicating for him to wait, he didn't break eye contact with Sinina. "Fine. You aren't afraid. But Firrerreo can't be tamed sweetheart. Our entire planet got wiped out by the empire over that fact. The fact that no matter how outgunned, how outmatched, Firrerreo won't concede superiority, or even equality, to any other race in the universe. So, can you bear being with me, knowing that no matter how much I may want to - I simply can't get over generations of cultural xenophobic doctrine? That I could never see you, or anyone else for that matter, as an equal? You need to think long and hard on that. Because, sweetheart, I dunno if I can change that. I dunno if I want to change that. Because as bad as that cultural belief is...it's what makes me Firrerreo. It, and the survivors, are all that's left of my race."
Turning to Silas then, Jashin dipped an uncharacteristic half-bow. Silas opened with manners, so Jashin would reply in kind. "Sorry about that. Some, uh, interpersonal business. Now, I'm just going to open up with his - don't take it as any kind of threat, for it isn't - but I've already had to slag a Bounty hunter over my haul, and I don't mind doing the same to you. Jashin waved a hand disarmingly. "But, you know, if you're a reasonable sort, just looking for an honest transaction - as honest as an underworld arms transaction can be - then you've come to the right place. Ten thermal dets, ten frag grenades, ten cryo grenades, two proton charges, one kilo plasticene thermite. Forty thousand. One repulsor truck, five thousand. One 9118 heavy carbine, one adventurer slugthrower rifle, one model 434 death hammer - modded - all five thousand."
Jashin gestured to each in turn, before arriving at the deactivated droids and dead merc.
"Er, and you can have the droids and the mercs armor - Stalker Armor - for an extra grand. The three are easily worth more than that."
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Preacher
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Post by Preacher on Dec 2, 2016 9:36:23 GMT -8
Silas followed the merchant's index finger as he pointed out the various killing machines - all items he had never seen before, though some were vaguely familiar as the type of weapon favoured by most spacefarers. The grens and dets -- he had witnessed their use when the slaves had been freed. And some of the items, the thermite and the proton charges, he had no idea what they would do. But he imagined it was not any good. Still, he nodded appropriately when shown each item. Even the (slightly used) armor lying on the ground received an appreciative nod.
Impressive. Most impressive. pause No, what I am seeking is soft metal. unbuttoning his jacket, Preacher tucks the right side behind his back, revealing his sidearm and his saber hilt, removing the sidearm with his off-hand to show the merchant the weapon. I cast my own projectiles, as I have not found this particular caliber since leaving home. I have this for payment -- removing the small bill fold of scrip paper money -- however I have yet to find a merchant willing to accept it in trade. Perhaps I can trade another item if you have what I seek? As for this he casts a hand over the weapons arrayed before him I should ask the freighter crew I am ravelling with. They might well be interested in such fine weaponry.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2016 10:17:20 GMT -8
Jashin nodded slowly, listening to the man. And raising his hands disarmingly, approached to look at the man's weapon. Jashin was relatively good at reading people, given his kinetic communication training from his time as an assassin - and he didn't get the sense that the man killed unless he had to. Drawing close, peering at the weapon, gesturing for the man to turn it over so Jashin could look at it - even going so far as to reach out and tap it with a finger, Jashin eventually leaned backward. "Four shots, and of high caliber - closest I've ever seen is .48 Enforcer rounds, and those are rare as they come. What is the frame made of, Beskar? Impervium? Have to be somethin' study indeed to withstand a kick like that." Jashin just shook his head, stepping several paces back. "I can't help you too much. If raw metal is what you're looking for, feasibly you could buy the truck here, and melt down the metals for casting. These frag grenades here have inner cores of detonite powder, hefty stuff, but in the right ratios would serve as propellant for a slug. I'd recommend you know what you're doing if you attempt to mess with it, though." Jashin raised his hands again. "But you probably do, casting your own bullets and such. Beyond that, I dunno how much help I can be of to you slug wise."
Jashin contemplated the man's paper money, before shrugging. "I'll accept your paper scrip, eight thousand credit equivalent, if you find my suggestion amicable. It's not much good here on Naboo, but I can get it validated at a currency exchange when I leave this world. As for the rest, talk to your crew. I'm more than willing to trade for credits or an equivalent exchange."
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Post by Sinina Riso on Dec 2, 2016 16:41:19 GMT -8
I---
*Was all she got in edgewise. She heard the man's voice behind them. How. How had she let herself become that distracted that she hadn't even felt his approach. She cursed herself. She knew better. She knew much better. She listened to his words very closely. Then he turned away, she wanted to respond. Which she had all sorts of words to say. And until this buyer left, they would play on repeat in her mind, by the time he would leave, she'd of had thousands of different conversations with Jashin in her head. So many they jumbled together. Why did she even care anyways. If he was that xenophobic. Heck. Why did he even talk to her. She shakes her head. Maybe all of this was just a waste of time even. She growled softly, she wanted to get it out of her system alot, she even caught herself thinking she would like this buyer to try something...just so she would have an outlet for the anger he caused.=
She turned to face the man, her sabers on display. Her silver eyes seemed almost blank revealing nothing of what was going through her mind. She crossed her arms again on her chest. She was far from the muscle one would expect. But she would do whatever was necessary. She continued to be silent, each movement the man made, she was sure to mirror.*
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Post by Deleted on Dec 3, 2016 21:38:26 GMT -8
It was just then, overhearing the conversation between Jashin and Silas the Preacher, that a shady looking smuggler - with a Twi'lek co-pilot attendant? Maybe simply a inamorata? - regardless, both stopped to listen in on Jashin's explanation of the goods. The smuggler, a swarthy looking human with grease stains on his flight vest, half stumbled and half bumbled his way into the conversation. "You gots explosives? How muchs?" Jashin, tiring of the whole arms trader thing - I mean really, a pirate doesn't haggle or hawk wares. He takes what he wants, and then tells people how much they're going to pay for it. Being, well, a NEW pirate, he couldn't afford that luxury. He could, however, settle and cut his losses.
"...You know what? Kark it. Kark it up the ass. This is taking too long. You interested in my wares big guy? You can have all of it: truck, droids, explosives, all of it, for twenty grand." Jashin said, turning to the smuggler, and giving a wink and an appreciative nod to the man's Rutian Twi'lek cohort. The Twi'lek just rolled her eyes at Jashin's small flirtation, and the swarthy human, though annoyed for a second, noticed very well with his practiced eye that the combined value of the items were well over twenty grand. "Whats the catches?" The smuggler asked suspiciously. Jashin, trying not to laugh, just gestured - first to Preacher, then to the dead Hunter in the back of the truck. "What, besides the fact my only buyer doesn't even have galactic credits, or the Bounty Hunter who has already tried to kill me? I think I'll cut my losses, thank you very much. So what'll it be?"
The smuggler, still suspicious, eyed first Jashin, then Sinina. It was then that he saw her sabers. The wily smuggler knew, then, that if this was simply some kind of scam, that the two of them probably could have simply taken any credits he had. There were easier ways, in other words, to make a credit. "Dealses." Said the smuggler. Reaching into his vest, the human took out several high valuation credit chips, holding them out to Jashin. Jashin, snatching the credits up, quickly deposited them in his jacket - loathe for anyone to see the exchange for fear of yet another attack. "And a pleasure doing business. Now if you'll excuse me...later taters." And with that, Jashin spun on his heel and walked off - bidding Sinina to follow. No doubt the smuggler would be eager to sell the assorted goods for a profit - why, he'd probably even want to do business with the Preacher, or any other individual for that matter. After all, buying it for half the value, if he even sold it at three quarters its value he'd turn a tidy profit.
"Let's get the hell out of here. I don't need more karking Hunters." Jashin would utter to Sinina. The two would no doubt focus on the mission - getting out of the space port back into Theed proper (by way of transit shuttles) before relaxing their guard and resuming their conversation. In the interim, Jashin would forward credits to various repair shops, select equipment, and prepare for the iminent repairs the Sable needed.
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Post by Sinina Riso on Dec 4, 2016 19:07:26 GMT -8
*Sin stayed quiet, she didn't want to interfere with his dealings unless they got violent. She kept to herself for the duration, watching quietly. She even noticed them look at her sabers. She thought the buisness was over, and then Jashin ushered her onward as he said they should get out of there. She follows along with him, making sure to grab the one hunters helm on their way out, she didn't want to part with it. She would wait for them to get away from prying ears. But Jashin would be in for an earful at some point.*
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Shaden Vekarr
Member
The only destination that matters is Point B. It's that simple.
Posts: 2
Affiliation: Freelance
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Shaden Vekarr on Dec 4, 2016 20:50:36 GMT -8
While the descent was fairly smooth, it was far from impossible to see that there was an excitement in Tyria's eyes as the ship made it's way towards the spaceport. The occasional gasp and sigh were enough to express that she was, in fact, awe struck by the spectacle before her eyes. Shaden had always thought the city of Theed a beauty in the disturbed mess of the galaxy, however his daughter had been a saving grace from the spiral that that notion could form. It wasn't until the ship entered the hangar that her glee faded and he was inclined to speak. "I'll never get used to how much you hate spaceports." He breathed and flipped a few switches until the ship began to complete it's docking sequence.
Turning to look at her father, her eyes taking a duller shade than the one she'd had during their descent, Tyria chuckled and gave a soft sigh. "You've known me all my life, consider me shocked." She retorted, her tone mocking but with a hint of dry humor as she pushed herself up from her seat and stepped behind her father's chair. "It's not that I don't like them," she mused as she leaned against the headrest of his chair and gazed in a disinterested fashion out the viewport. "They're crowded and give me the creeps."
With a small sigh, Shaden processed what she'd said and imagined in her head all the various types they had come across in the past. One didn't cross paths with as many smugglers and criminals as she had and simply walk away with a bad taste in their mouth. Within that same instant, as he tilted his head up to glance at the console above him, the ship came to a small but minutely jostling halt as it's landing gear touched down against the hangar floor. "Kid, this is Theed. You're as likely to come across a bantha dressed like a Mirilan than cross a crime syndicate." That said, he let out a small chuckle and rose to put the ship in lock down.
"If this is your way of convincing me to go with you to the market so you can find yourself a buyer, than you're worse than Naomi when she's trying to convince me to dress in one of her so called get-ups." Tyria muttered to herself as he stood up, pushing herself away from the chair so she could move into the cockpit door and begin the small but frustrating trek towards the docking ramp. While she was figured it would be better to change into something more proper for a city like Theed, she was content to make everyone else accept her for who she was: Dressed as a typical spacer but with a feminine edge. Which was more than could be said about Naomi.
"Tell Naomi we're headed out. She's got ten minutes and then we're leaving and won't be back for at least a few hours." Shaden echoed to Tyria as she took a step backward and went through the motions of finding her way towards the older woman's cabin. Frankly she rather hated the woman and her ability to keep her father wrapped around her little finger, but there was a sad reality in that she couldn't quite convince him to let her go. The woman had simply dug in too deep. "Naomi!" She shouted as she rapped the back of her fist against the metallic door until there was the sound of clutter inside. "And we're on a clock so don't even think about telling me to give you five minutes. We've-"
"Keep talking and you'll make me take five minutes longer." Came the woman's voice as she banged the door back at Tyria and the girl took a step back with a contorted look of disgust on her face. Only moments later the door slid open with a fast hiss to reveal the haughtily dressed brunette, an annoyed expression on her face. "He's in the cockpit still, isn't he?" She asked but received no response from Tyria, something she seemed apt to expect as she gave a soft sigh and pushed past her in the direction the girl had come.
"You're welcome," Tyria mused as she watched Naomi disappear around the corner, waiting for just a few moments before muttering her own retort. "Kriffing she-bantha." It felt incredible every time she was able to release her tensions through the use of words she was often restricted from using, and for but a moment she continued to amuse herself with the thoughts she could suffice. Until she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and spun with a gasp to see Joron standing behind her. "Fracking hell Joron! How do you DO that!?" She practically shrieked as she struggled to compose herself.
"It's time to go." He breathed in his typically gruff and curt manner before taking a step past her and, just as quickly and silently as he'd appeared, disappeared around the corner into the bowels of the ship once again.
"Kriffing Mandalorian..." She breathed, taking in deep gulps of air as she forced her composure in what little time she knew she had to be prepared for their disembarking to Theed. "Doesn't he know not to sneak up on someone like that?" She muttered and exhaled a breath with a finality to her attempt to compose herself. "Why can't he talk to me like a normal person?"
"Because he likes you." Came Kavis' voice as she finished speaking causing the girl to jump and practically shriek once more.
"WHAT THE KRIFFING FRACK KAVIS!?" She exclaimed once more as she spun to face him and lifted a hand before restraining herself from slapping him across the face. It wasn't that she couldn't reach, it was that she knew there was no point in hitting him when he was clearly trying to cheer her up. That, and she was struggling against odds to hide the minor blush that had taken over her complexion.
"Relax, I'm only joking. He always does that... To everyone." He mused as he hefted the rifle up a bit against his shoulder. There was one thing that one had to know about Kavis that could never be rightfully forgotten. And that was his love for his rifles: Notably his Verpine Shatter Rifle. Something he knew his niece still couldn't piece together. The Verpine spoke his own language yet Kavis had managed to acquire himself a rifle.
"If one more person jumps me like that, I won't be leaving my cabin ever again." She announced abruptly as she pushed past her uncle and made her way to where she knew her father, Naomi and Joron would be waiting, the sound of Kavis' voice following her down the hall though she cared not what he had to say. The sooner they were off the hunk of junk her father called a ship, the better.
And much to her pleasant surprise it hadn't taken them long to disembark and make their way towards what was considered Theed's Spaceport's customs. Much to Kavis' chagrin however, as he sat with a noticeable sulk while quietly polishing his rifle under the watchful eyes of the volunteer security force.
"Alright you two, this is a simple recon run. We go in and find ourselves a client or two and we get back. Nothing fancy." Shaden knew better than to linger too long with as valuable and illegal a shipment as they were carrying, but he also had two women to accommodate for. This was not going to be easy.
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Preacher
Member
One step closer.
Posts: 318
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Preacher on Dec 5, 2016 11:20:11 GMT -8
Silas watched as ships came and went. It was a different sort of landscape to what he was used to on Kilia... but it was peaceful in a different way, and exhilarating, all at the same time. He knew they had landed in an area that was -- for this planet -- considered low-class, but he didn't care. At this moment, there was nobody doing harm that he could see, and so he was relatively at ease. His thoughts turned to the crew of Adrien Draykon's crew. The thought about each of them as he walked. Draykon himself, he had spent little time talking with, though much time observing. He knew the Captain in a very intimate way, having been joined to him mentally for a number of hours while Draykon was incapacitated. He wanted very much to spend more time hearing the man's thoughts and getting a better idea of how his drive and determination, and loyalty shaped his personality. He found the man terribly difficult to read, and chalked that up mostly to his own lack of experience with the wider 'verse.
The pilot, Trent Weston. Thus far, the man had rubbed Silas the wrong way. Suffice it to say their relationship would take some work. Silas was willing to put in the effort, but there was something about Weston that nagged at him, and he had yet to put his finger to it. The first officer, Erly Ryzer, tried hard, worked hard, and fought for her reputation among the crew. That was to be respected. Silas would wait to see if she was capable to lead by example. Their medic was capable, and skilled in the arts of healing in a way that was alien to the Preacher. Doctors were a witchcraft on Kilia IV, and mostly to be avoided, but he had seen first-hand her skills. She had earned her trade and her place amongst Draykon's people, and Silas was almost constantly amazed by her feats of wizardry.
The rest of them... the catatonic girl -- Meony, and both Neassa and himself, were not strictly crew members, as he saw it. Catching a ride? Working to earn room, board & passage? Prospects? He didn't know where he stood. Except that he knew given his options, he'd stand at Neassa's side. She was the best warrior among them, and a presence off the field as well. He was drawn to her, and wanted to know more of her.
Then there was Isabelle. The one he had spoken to in the med lab. That one had been put forth as a potential addition to the crew. Of this, he was certain: it would go badly. He wasn't able to be clearer on that point, only that somehow, it would not go as planned. That caused him concern. But not enough to say anything against the woman. His Inner Strength only granted him the barest glimmer of images from the future, and this was -- as yet -- unclear.
He had arrived back at their hangar, and most of the slaves had disembarked. There was still a small local ground crew tending to the vessel, and one or two official-looking individuals milling about, talking to Ms. Ryzer. Silas hung back, awaiting the next move.
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Adrien Draykon
Retired High Councilor 
The Smuggler King
Posts: 720
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Adrien Draykon on Dec 9, 2016 23:21:25 GMT -8
The trip from Kessel had been a rough one for Adrien. His head felt clouded and jumbled as he sat in the silence of his cabin and poured himself another glass of Dorian Quill. Adrien turned to a drawer on his desk and pulled out a picture then sat back in his chair and just stared at it as he took a sip of his drink. And alone with his thoughts and whiskey the captain of the Midnight Shadow began to lose himself. The memories of a simpler time served only to empty his glass and drive him further into a stupor. What will Tobias say? How to I explain this to everyone? He thought to himself as he refilled his glass and began again... What was I thinking? Why did I pull her from Nystao where she was safe? He thought as he finished yet another glass of Dorian Quill, the bottle becoming noticeably lighter each time he picks it up to reload. I promise... The words echo in his head over and over again. "Liar." He mumbles. You did this Adrien Draykon, you did this. You put her where she it, this is your fault, she's gone because of you! He finishes off his glass and starts to pour another only to find that the bottle is empty and he sits in contemplated silence completely lost. His eyes filled with tears he looks at the picture one more time and then slams the bottle on the desk, holding it there tightly for a moment before he raises it and slams it again, and again, and again, until the thick glass finally shatter in his hand and he throws the fragments across the room. No one is safe around me, everyone I love dies, I can't protect anyone. One by one I'll lead them all to their deaths. Without another thought he draws his DC-15s sidearm and stares at it, then to the picture once again staring at it as he opened his mouth and put the barrel in then closed his eyes. His finger began to slowly squeeze the trigger, his eyes still filled with tears as he remembered some cherished moments with his best friend. And he was ready to go and spare everyone left on the ship a similar fate. But then he heard a knock at the door and he quickly withdrew the gun at the sound of Erly's voice. "Captain? I'm gonna talk to the port officials, and see that the refugees are looked after, okay? I'll get the ship refueled and restocked." He breathed heavily at the thought of what he was just about to do and stared at the gun again, noticing for the first time that his hand was cut wide open from the broken bottle. He laid the blaster on the desk and turned the picture down then looked around the room as though he were completely lost. He took several minutes to compose himself before he staggered to his feet and stumbled over to his closet, first pulling out an old shirt and ripping a piece off to wrap around the cut to stop the bleeding while he changed his clothes. He was still dirty from the fight on Kessel but at the very least he wouldn't have holes in his clothes anymore. Once he had changed his shirt and pants, which look a longer than normal amount of time due to his intoxicated state, he grabbed his coat and put it on then put unwrapped his hand and put on a pair of leather gloves to hide his wound. He wiped his face off and then walked to the door and leaned against it for a moment letting only his forehead touch the cold metal as he gathered himself. And after a minute he stood up straight, unlocked the door and it swooshed open. He staggered slightly as he stepped out but he did his best to keep straight despite his current state. He walked down the hall to the common area and then down the ramp, squinting his eyes at the sun and holding his hand up to shield the light. He looked around to see where his people were and how the authorities were handling the slaves, which he was impressed with but he also felt the need to bolt. He saw Trent and Erly talking about something that appeared to be serious so he decided to just let them hash out whatever it was they were discussing, then he saw Neassa being treated for her injuries and didn't want to mingle with the locals, but then he saw Silas who happened to be alone and he wanted to talk to anyway. Keeping up appearances he strode confidently toward the man, careful not to expose his inebriated state. "Preacher." He greeted the man then paused. "Fill me in." |
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