Episode 1: An Unlikely Alliance [Active]

[Lexielai]

TALOS STATION

​

The Talos System (Click Me!)
​

You watch the looming, decrepit structure pull in closer with bated breath. Here it was. Talos Station. It was a massive construct, built seamlessly into the cavities of a large asteroid. Its jagged and rough edges seem almost menacing as you gaze through the viewport. Orange light illuminated the inky darkness of space around it, dimly revealing the little ports, windows, and crevices within the enormous station. As you pull closer you can see that the old durasteel has corroded and been tainted by orange patches of rust across the surface. Huge chunks of sparking, open machinery and circuitry are left open to the darkness, the metal around them crudely twisted as if torn apart. 


Soon you pull inside, your ship jolting as you make contact with the hanger platform. You step out and are immediately hit by the stench. The hanger bay opens immediately into the infamous black markets of Talos Station, where you see hundreds of ramshackle little stands set up with a slew of goods strewn across ripped, dirty cloths or oil-stained, rusty booths. But the smell...oh does it reek in here. The scent of aliens and hazardous fluids hits you like a speedertruck, nearly knocking you back with the sheer force of your reflexive recoil. 


A few locals laugh upon seeing your reaction. "Haha, newcomers!" they laughed among themselves, barely sparing you a glance before returning to their chat. The rest of the inhabitants seemed to care even less. Droids and aliens of all shapes, sizes, and colors wandered these corroding, damp floors, so many of which you had never seen before. You can barely distinguish their faces as they seem to zip by, your eyes becoming lost in the sea of the crowd. 


You take a few moments to compose yourself, and recall your purpose here. You now step forward, easily slipping into the horde of gangsters, pirates, and crooks, your will set on achieving your goal. 


Your move, traveler. 

 

[Daimao]

KROD
​

"You stupid lizard, you don't get it, do you?" Exclaimed a small blue hologram of a human male, projected from the data pad held in the clawed hand of a large Trandoshan wearing a dark orange flight suit.


"No," the Trandoshan hissed. "I don't think I do."


"This is a double-cross, Krod," the hologram laughed. "Haldir and I were just using you, so you could do all the heavy lifting." The hologram smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. "We took your ship, and once Haldir finishes, we-" The hologram paused for a moment as if listening to someone else, before smiling sinisterly. "Correction, now that Haldir's finished, your accounts have been emptied and your creds are ours."


"Jaxic, you kriffing ssslime!" Krod roared. "I'm going to kill you two for thisss!" The hologram of Jaxic laughed at this.


"I doubt it Krod. Have fun trying to find a way off that piece of shit station. Ta ta," Jaxic's hologram waved at Krod, before disappearing with a beep. Krod drew his scaled lips back in a snarl as he gripped the data pad tighter, cracking the casing. Whipping around he threw the data pad at a wall, shattering it, before storming off in the direction of Talos Station's hangar bays. A few residents of Talos Station unknowingly made the mistake of standing in the large Trandoshan's path, and were flung out of the way by the furious bounty hunter. 


"Mother of Kwath!" Krod growled to himself. "Damn that kriffing ssson of bantha! I'll find that damn ssstang and rip hisss armsss off before I ssspace the bassstard." Krod continued to unleash a seemingly never-ending stream of curses under his breath as he made his way to the hangars, where he could hopefully find a pilot who would get him off this station, free of charge.

 

[BainOfBridges]

HK-51
​

A pair of orange photo receptors briefly track the the large green scaled alien as he furiously barges his way through hallways and occupants of said hallways aside. There are a few cries of protest that HK picks up from victims who were cast asunder, but all seem to know wiser than to chase down a Trandoshan in a tantrum if they value the worth of having all of their limbs attached to their body. HK-51 stands alert, though his upper chassis seems to be ever so slightly slumped as if mimicking a casual nature to his stance. Either that, or sheer boredom. HK's processor whirs internally as it quickly translates the sound of Huttese rings out over the station's intercom. A perk of having protocol droid protocols, HK supposes. However it is revealed to simply be an advertisement for the station's cantina much to HK's disappointment. Half price on a special shipment of Novanian grog. At last something old enough to be stored in HK's databanks. If it hand't changed over the course of the last three thousand years then it would likely have cost the station half its income for the next few months to import it. Wait a minute... disappointment? What was HK exactly hoping for then?


"Stand somewhere else clanker." Comes a slurred string of basic as the droid finds himself barred to the side by the idly swinging arm of a large and stocky Zabrak. The droid twists his head to look at the stubby crown of horns adorned atop the bald, tattooed head of the alien. Ah, a solution. HK knows what he would -love- to do now.
 


"Thinly veiled threat: Would you like that arm removed?" HK states, only to receive a snort of amusement from the man who lumbers off again. It's doubtful that he'd garner any sort of threat from what appears to be an out of date protocol droid. The HK unit takes a single step back closer to the bay doors to the hangar currently housing the Traveller and his new masters. Kriffing restraining bolt. If it were not for that cursed thing he might be able to add proof to his threat. If HK could have brought his weapon as he had requested and been denied by his new masters, it might also make things significantly less annoying as well.
 


"Exasperated query: Must we really venture out into this hive of activity? Correction. Must -I- have to venture out with you master? All these meatbags are rather annoying." HK twists his upper half around, peering back toward the Traveller's distant form in the dingy hangar that seems to be on the verge of falling apart. HK certainly hopes one of the crew might be on their way to liberate him from this dull duty. Even serving as a protocol droid might be better than this. Furthermore, it would mean HK is not talking to himself. He is a Hunter Killer droid! We are designed to be better than that.

 

[Epiphany]

Nyis Veli-An-Dach
​

"Here's your port, Ms. Dach."


The Chiss glances over her shoulder at the ship's first officer.  Orange Favorite had made the trip in a matter of weeks, an excellent pace for an Outer Rim destination.  Cy Boltil had been her primary point of contact with the ship's crew and he looked almost disappointed to see her leave.  Nyis smiles.  Make friends and avoid burning bridges you don't have to.  Useful in business and apparently useful when booking transport billions of miles away.  


She collects her shoulder bag containing a few meager possessions she'd escaped Kothlis with and gently touches the first officer's shoulder.  "A swift, efficient voyage, Mr. Boltil.  As promised."


"Ma'am, are you-" he pauses, swallows once, and finally says "This isn't the safest port.  Talos Station has a reputation.  I don't go anywhere on it without another member of the crew."  Unspoken in his eyes is his swift assessment that a beautiful, well dressed woman is a prize compared to him.


"I'm armed.  And I'm meeting someone.  I'll be fine, Mr. Boltil, once my business is sorted.  Please, give my compliments to your crew and your captain.  Perhaps we'll do business again in the future."


Nyis finally makes her exit from Orange Favorite and immediately wrinkles her nose.  The smell, far more than the sight, warns her of what kind of place this is.  But it's one more familiar to the well-dressed Chiss woman than appearances would suggest.  Despite her clean, charcoal dress and confident step, Nyis grew up in conditions just as terrible.  The sight of the vendor stalls filled with questionable merchandise just reminds her of the stands in her commune back on Kothlis.  She doesn't shrink back from the sight or betray any surprise.  When a few of the locals grin her way, her eyes flick dismissively over them before she steps by.  She's not one of them but neither is she prey.  


The hanger deck is where she's to meet the shadowy contact she'd arranged with Ybella Systems.  The chipset plans tucked away below her décolletage were her ticket off a station like this to some paradise world, possibly a colony or even back to her own people.  Wherever they were.  The Chiss were virtually unknown to the greater galactic community and her parents had been reluctant to tell her where she came from, assuming they even knew.  Her origin was a question money could solve.  All she had to do was meet her contact, once they identified themselves with the passphrase 'Ill met by starlight'.  


An angry Trandoshan approaching gets exactly what a member of his species and size should get; a wide, wide berth.  


"Right.  Where's my contact then?"

 

[Lexielai]

Atticus Sol


Atticus blinked blearily. His head pounded with a headache, and he felt weird. Like he was floating. The captain shook his head, trying to clear up his vision somehow.


“Whoah,” he said. Aliens stepped across the familiar, shitty floors of Talos Station, passing along the merchants shouting about their shitty wares to the shitty aliens on this shitty trade port. Something about it all seemed off. Like he was taller than usual.


Atticus tried to move his arms, but found himself unable. “Huh?” he asked himself, looking up. “Who the fuck tied me up?”


Indeed, as the captain disheartedly discovered, his arms were bound together tightly by the wrists, as were his feet dangling a couple feet of the ground. Atticus struggled, trying to break free to no avail, and started shouting at a couple of passersby. “Hey! Let me out of there!” he said loudly. “This isn’t funny! I’m going to call my lawyer.”


They dismissed him without a second glance, some snorting at the absurd sight. “Come on,” Atticus complained. “I had a crappy night, alright? I got a huge hangover, my feet hurt, and I’m really thirsty right now. Where’s the humanity here?”


A nearby Durosian traveler looked at him condescendingly. “I mean, uh...well, that does seem kinda racist now that I think about it,” Atticus hurriedly retracted, “but, like, seriously. Help out a poor soul.”


His eyes caught the form of Nyis passing her, his eyes widening upon examining her form. Atticus wiggled about a bit, straightening up and sticking his chest with confidence. Or, well, as best he could while hanging up in the air.


“Hey there, beautiful,” he said smoothly. “Could you do me a favor and cut me down? I’ll make it worth your while…”



His words drifted. “Ah, come on now, what do you want? I don’t have any money but I’ll give you a ride out of this shithole. Just let me out of there!” Atticus started struggling furiously again, looking strangely like a hooked fish flopping around.

DM BOX
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@Epiphany @Daimao Nyis and Krod, you both see a dangling man shouting at you. He has a rugged and exasperated look about him, and his face is also stained by soot and a nasty black eye.

 


@Epiphany Nyis, your contact said he would be meeting you nearby. You're not sure who he is, but with your excellent perception, you notice a man waiting in a nearby alley with a tense look about him. He frequently glances at the holo-watch on his wrist, huffing as if he's ready to leave at any moment.

 


@Daimao Krod, with your excellent medical experiences, you easily see all the signs of a bar brawl as your eyes glance over the man. He lost. 





Violet Lightfinder


Violet shrugged. “I don’t like it either, HK-er, sir, er, captain,” she said. Violet wasn't quite used to droids being authoritative figures, but Atticus said she needed to be respectful so she was. The young girl’s face twisted in disgust as an a small alien tried to sell her a bowl of worm soup. “Erm...no thank you.”


She crinkled her nose. “Is the whole galaxy like this?” she asked the protocol droid, unaware of its true nature. “If so I think I’d rather just stay on the ship.”


The exotic-looking, violet-haired woman sighed. In the three months since she’d left, she was no closer to finding a Jedi Master than when she departed Maenna. She’d asked around a lot, but nobody knew of any real ones. Violet had gotten really excited when a man once told her that he indeed knew of a Jedi Master, and would show her inside his ship. He ended up being a phony and tried to do some sort of weird hug with her, but she wasn’t really interested. Her mission was much more important.


“Oh, maybe that’s why the Master didn’t have one of the others do it,” she mused to herself, unconsciously stepping around a few questionable-looking puddles. Violet nodded to herself, smiling. It was because only she could accomplish this mission. A proud feeling rose up in her chest; it felt nice.


Not paying attention to her surroundings, Violet then suddenly snapped back to reality as she walked into a wall. “Ow!” she said, surprised, while taking a second glance. Suddenly the white “wall” looked a lot more human-like.



“Watch where you’re going, girl,” the helmeted armor said, its masculine voice warped by the characteristic sound of a voice projector. Bewildered, Violet quickly turned to HK. “Whoah! What kind of droid is that?”

DM BOX
​

 


@BainOfBridges @SkyGinge @Volfy @Newson You are all members of the Traveler. Just yesterday a drunken Atticus stumbled into the ship with an old, rusty protocol droid walking behind him, identifying itself as HK-51. Atticus informed you that it was his new best friend and a member of the crew "so you better -hic- treat it with respect!" You haven't seen him since. About an hour ago Violet and HK-51 set off to find him. 


@BainOfBridges Currently the meatbag girl you are traveling with has just bumped into a Stormtrooper, whose hand is just starting to reach for his blaster. 

 

[Daimao]

KROD
​

Krod's reptilian eyes drifted over a nearby human male. He was tied up and dangling from the ceiling, yelling and flopping about quite comically. Krod subconsciously analyzed the man's wounds. A black eye, as well as other, smaller bruises and a few scrapes. Although Krod could not smell the man from where he was, he assumed he smelled of alcohol. Looked like the man was involved a bar room brawl. And, judging by the man's predicament, he lost said brawl.


Krod would never have given the man a second thought, if he had not heard the human's desperate shouting over the din of the station. The man was shouting about free transportation off of the station if someone cut him loose. Just what Krod was looking for. Ceasing his string of profanities and turning on his heels, Krod walked over to the dangling man. 


"You offered transssportation off the ssstation, yesss?" Krod asked the man while unsheathing his vibroblade. He had been right, the man did smell of alcohol. "For free?" The short, bladed weapon in Krod's three fingered hand started humming softly as it began to vibrate. Without waiting for the human's response to either question, Krod reached up and sliced through the man's bindings effortlessly. Deactivating the vibroblade and re-sheathing it, Krod looked down at the human he had freed. 


"Ssshouldersss may be sssore from hanging for long time. Ssshould not be any major damage. Any pain presssent will fade," Krod hissed absently. "I releasssed you. Now you will take me to your ssship and get me off thisss ssstation, yesss?" 


@Lexielai

 

[BainOfBridges]

HK-51
​

"Correction: That is an Imperial Stormtrooper. Current law enforcement of the galaxy. Our apologies." Comes HK's voice from over Violet's shoulder, his statement directed both toward Violet herself and the stormtrooper in turn. He does his best to sound sincere.

A small part of HK's processor thanks the white armored man for injecting some loose strain of interest into the droid's day so far. If only the man would draw his blaster, oh if only. Surely the restraining bolt wouldn't stop his assassination protocols if it was in efforts to fulfill his standard protocols of the protection of his master and by extension the meatbag friends of his master. He has already calculated 11 different lethal countermeasures, 23 if seizing the plastoid covered meatbag's weapon is involved. HK still knows little of the empire, much to his annoyance. But from what little he had been able to learn whilst stuck in a mechanic shop or in Kerago's halls he'd deduced that the stormtroopers armor was rather weak. Made for mass production, not for surviving his protocols. But alas, his primary objectives come first. And perhaps this agent of the empire can assist them.
 


"Query: Do you know the direction to which we might find the Cantina? We are looking for my master, who is likely nursing a hangover."


HK has hopes for Master Sol. Certainly a meatbag whose consumption of alcohol makes him rather unreliable as a master, thank the maker he is not required to ingest liquid substance in order for his parts to maintain peak functional capacity. But certainly a master whom may remove his restraining bolt with enough kind words and tedious service as a protocol droid. So it is rather prudent that he is found soon in HK's priorities.

@Lexielai

 

[Epiphany]

Nyis Veli-An-Dach
​

As the Chiss' red eyes track the passing Trandoshan, she turns in time to spot the rugged, handsome human...hanging upside down.  Despite herself and her grim situation, Nyis couldn't help but smirk at the spectacle of the man.  Especially when he had the testicular fortitude to worry about his first impression on her when he was still bound and upside down.  The dark woman comes to a stop before the hanging man as he begins to struggle.  


"Hey there yourself, handsome," she says back, by way of a reply.  Just then, Nyis spotted her probable contact.  "I have a bit of business to conduct but if you're still hanging around when I'm done, we can talk terms."  


Then the angry Trandoshan pulled up next to her, changing the dynamic completely.  Nyis took a step or two to the right, well out of arm's reach of the much taller, stronger and generally more ill-tempered alien.  Seeing the two doing business reminded her of the need to complete her own.  Without another word, the Chiss woman stepped to the mouth of the alley.  Her eyes search out the locale, looking for signs of an ambush.  She'd taken precautions with the chipset data, of course, enough to encourage this man's corporation to play fair.  But that didn't mean he or they wouldn't leave her as badly off as that hanging man if she showed an inch of weakness or unpreparedness.  


She stops right in front of the man with the holowatch, one hand resting on her blaster.  The burden's on him to say 'Ill met by starlight' if he's genuinely her contact.  A space between her shoulder blades itched suddenly as she realized how exposed she was.  Nyis was all alone here.  ...Maybe cutting down that man would have been the smart thing to do.  Even a temporary alliance would mitigate risk.  No help for it now, though.

 

[Newson]

Rig Lhinkha
​

It's been a little less than a week since Rig joined up with the Traveler. He's spent most of the time tinkering with things around the ship, fixing things when he could. But turns out, there's more than one junk head on this ship. He hasn't really formally met any of the other crew members. They met with a handshake, greeting gesture, anything and a simple "hello." Rig has remained in the cargo bay for awhile now. He's skipped out on some sleep and basic nourishment because he's been working on a faulty power conduit. The conduit is probably the reason the light in the cargo hold flickers, and even goes out sometimes.


He picks up a welder tool, and he starts welding some wires together. He hopes once he fixes a few wires, melding the plastic and metal together, the light's energy source will be fixed, and the light will work properly once again. He welded one wire together, and the light flickered on, and did not falter. He smirked as he successfully fixed the problem. He closed up the circuit box and looked up to the light. The light shone bright, brighter than ever, or was it getting brighter? Soon after that, the light burned out and the glass casing shattered. Little bits of glass fell all into the cargo hold. Rig dropped his head.


"Good job, Rig," he said to himself. He moved to the pile of broken glass and kicked most of it into a manageable pile. He surely didn't want to clean up all the broken glass, so he just left it there. He smirked and chuckled a bit.


"Good thinking, maybe someone will find it," he laughed. Then the realization of someone hearing the glass break, and him talking to himself, came to mind. He looked around to make sure he was alone in the cargo hold. He opened the door to the armory, which was quite empty of weaponry. He guessed Atticus is running low on ordinance. Rig moved to the doorway of the cargo hold and peered out of it. He saw no one approaching through the hallway, but he did see the light on in the main corridor. Those lights are usually on so he wasn't surprised, but he thought investigating was in his best interest right now. He walked down the hallway, the loose metal  plates of the hallway floor clanked and clashed under his boots. Hopefully no one was asleep, or he would be given them a rude awakening. He approached the doorway of the hallway to the cargo hold. He peered left into the escape pod. It looked relatively unused, as he assumed. He moved past it, and he moved into the main corridor.


He highly expected to see someone there.


(@Volfy , @SkyGinge : I get the impression that you two are on the ship with me. I talked about an interaction with Mahlah, but Ashenaa can interact if she feels so inclinded.)

 

[Lexielai]

Nyis' Contact

The man didn’t jump, but his eyes rested warily on Nyis as she approached. “Two comets, Ill met by starlight, stand,” he recited cautiously.


Her contact’s hand rested on a hidden blaster hidden underneath his arm, but he seemed to relax more as he recognized her features. “Now for business,” he spoke. Although only dimly lit by the nearby surroundings, his weathered, unrefined features and dirty mechanic’s garb looked indistinguishable from the rest of the scum on this station. If you didn’t know better you would’ve assumed he was a nobody.


“You already know my name, and I yours, but…” he gave her his hand, “for formalities sake, I will introduce myself. I am Cassian Andor. My client will be very grateful for this information. As per agreement, the credits will be transferred to your…”


Cassian’s eyes widened. A sudden itch at the back of Nyis’ throat gave her a very, very bad feeling for just a moment, warning of impending danger before the words could even leave Cassian’s mouth.


Thirty meters behind her, perched upon a small building, an Imperial sniper pulled the trigger, and Cassian returned fire. 




Atticus Sol


Atticus nodded as the Trandoshan offered to cut him down, finally, though not without a price. “Yeah, yeah. Deal’s a deal, lizard guy,” he said flippantly. His wrists looked rather raw as he rubbed them. “Thanks for the tip,” he said while rolling his sore shoulders. “You a doctor or something?”


The human looked up at Krod curiously. Atticus himself was decently tall for a human, but the lizard easily eclipsed him in physical stature. He started wondering if this guy liked to bathe in sunlight like some of the other reptiles he’d seen on his travels. Then Atticus started thinking about that time he met a Krayt dragon—which involved a bit of pants shitting, though he wasn’t going to ever admit it—and started running far away from those thoughts.
 


Instead his eyes wandered over to Nyis’ retreating form, first up, and then slowly down. “Nice,” he said to himself. Then Atticus remembered there was a dangerous-looking Trandoshan right next to him.


“You don’t happen to eat people, do you? I hear things about you guys,” Atticus asked because he just had to know. “Oh, and I’m Atticus by the way. Captain of the Traveler, at your service...uh...lizard...godzilla...person.”


Suddenly characteristic red beams of plasma shot out from both behind and in front of them in near-sync, followed by the high-pitched scream of blaster fire, and Atticus then found "Lex" in his hand before he realized he even pulled it out. "What was that?"




Violet "Vi" Lightfinder


The Stormtrooper’s armored face stared blankly at the droid and her companion, but he still held his blaster threateningly. “Shut it, tin can,” he said. “You’re likely I don’t blast you scum right now.”


Suddenly something seemed to catch the Stormtrooper’s attention. He turned away, his hand reaching up to touch some sort of earpiece on his helmet. “This is TK-6149, responding. Roger. Moving to apprehend,” he said, forgetting to turn off his voice projectors in the heat of the moment. Turning back towards Violet and HK, he issued one last command before running off somewhere unknown: “Stay here.”


Violet looked to HK for answers. “What was that?” she questioned. The not-droid law enforcement had run off after talking to itself, and she still had trouble understanding how there was a person inside the plastoid plates. Why would someone ever want to be stuck inside that?


Suddenly she had a sinking feeling in her stomach, and a sense that something was going wrong. The distant sounds of blaster fire suddenly reached her ears. “I hope Atticus isn’t in trouble...HK, we have to check it out,” she said worriedly. Immediately Violet started running after the Stormtrooper, turning briefly to motion for HK to follow, and then sped around the corner with surprising speed for a meatbag.

DM BOX
​

 
​

@Epiphany Nyis' excellent Perception and Force Sensitivity kick in as an Imperial Sniper fires his shot at her neck. She has just enough time to react to it.


@Daimao Krod, although you did not notice him before, you see the sniper perched above you now. Dressed in the uniform of an Imperial Scout Trooper, his hands rest on the handle of a long blaster rifle as he trades fire with a dark figure in the alleyway.


@BainOfBridges The Stormtrooper has run off, apparently receiving orders of some sort that demanded greater attention. Your meatbag companion has run off after him, presumably towards the firefight your excellent Perception (and audio processors) register approximately one-hundred meters away. 


@Volfy @SkyGinge @Newson Although you don't hear the blaster fire inside the confines of the ship, you do hear the loud shuffles of armored Stormtrooper boots running across the hanger bay. One look outside reveals an Imperial Lambda-class shuttle that was not there before...

 

[BainOfBridges]

HK-51
​

HK's eyes would narrow toward the stormtrooper in annoyance. Well, if he had eyes instead of photoreceptors that is. Oh how he wants to kill this meatbag. But common sense and the restraining bolt sates his desire for violence or sarcastic quips. It is probably a good thing then that the confrontation of sniper fire ringing off in the distance interjects the confrontation and forces the stormtrooper away. It also triggered the deep wired assassination protocols within HK and he quickly registers the sounds of the different blasters being fired. His databanks on specific models of blaster is hideously outdated, but the droid can make out the distinctly different sounds. A sniper rifle sounding off and blaster.
 


"Analysis: A firefight has broken out. My audio processors indicate small arms fire is being traded one hundred metres in the direction the stormtrooper designation TK-6149. Thank the maker! Something to do!"
 


The female meatbag sets off in pursuit of the stormtrooper. HK doesn't particularly fancy her chances in a full out firefight by herself, but then he is summoned to follow. That does improve her odds of survival. Significantly. They weren't very high beforehand.
 


"Master Vi, I calculate there being a 45.8% probability of Master Atticus being the subject of brutal violence from his fellow meatbags. Would you give me permission to engage in protective service if necessary?"

 

[Epiphany]

Nyis Veli-An-Dach
​

"Ill met indeed," Nyis replies.  She visibly relaxes, though her hand doesn't drift from where it rests on her blaster.  Her other hand, though, rests on her shoulder bag before she brushes it slightly behind her to make room for the handshake.  Her grip is firm and cordial as she considers the man.  He didn't look like a corporate contact.  But then corporations played smart and looking corporate in a place like this was inviting trouble.  If she couldn't get off this station in the next hour, her first purchase would have to be a change of clothes.  This man had the right idea.


"Nyis Veli-An-Dach, of course.  A pleasure to meet you."  Her Galactic Basic is cultured, with the crisp diction favored by the wealthy and those often working for the Empire.  "And I'm glad for your client.  Gladder, once I've confirmed-what?"  


Cassian's eyes aren't her first warning.  That itch between her shoulder blades and at the back of her throat is.  That's the only reason the Chiss woman manages to duck out of the way of the first shot.  She lands on her rear, rather uncermoniously, and a bit painfully.  Fumbling for her holster, Nyis manages at last to get her blaster out and returns fire with Cassian though all four of her shots likely go wide of the sniper.  


Then she scrambles to her feet and bolts out of the alley.  There's no cover there and for all she knows, Cassian might have sold her out.


She makes it a dozen steps...before she runs into TK-6149.  Literally.  A collision that knocks her right off her feet and back onto her just bruised behind.  


At which point her blaster flies out of her hand, spins across the floor and bumps into Krod's foot.  


@Lexielai @Daimao

 

[SkyGinge]

Mahlah Rebus
​

Mahlah was uncomfortable.


This fact in itself was hardly a surprise; after all, father had always said she didn't know how to unwind (a trait she suspected was genetic). Yet the present situation had her entirely on edge, and she perched tensely on the edge of her bunk like a bird poised for flight. She'd only been on the ship for a handful of days, and adjusting to the chaotic lifestyle was trauma enough for her nervous disposition. Yet now, against all the odds, she found herself willing for these ship staples, the cacophany of laughter and drunken joy as their captain made company with the rest of the crew. Now all that remained was the odd mechanical gurgle from the ship's stomach. Otherwise the ship was left in torturous silence. And, in the silence, she was prone to think.


Her indoctrination into this motley crew had been an experience like no other, but she was rather proud of herself, in a wry, solemn kind of way. Perhaps, in a twisted way, father would have been too, once he'd gotten past the whole my-dear-daughter-joining-a-likely-criminal-craft-how-dare-she-milarky. After all, the Mahlah of nine months ago wouldn't have left the port motel, wouldn't have even approached the shady back-alleys where what she wanted resided. She certainly wouldn't have had the gaul to march right up to a dubious Corellian transport craft and hold a stiff-upper-lip to its drunken, vagabond captain. And she certainly wouldn't have had the guts to lie directly to his face.


Atticus was exactly the kind of gentleman mother and father would have kept her well away from, and whilst it she knew it to be rude to make such a sweeping character judgement based on such little exposure to his presence, she was convinced her was a fool. Which was good, as that meant she'd fit right in. 


"Sorry to bother you, but, well... I was wondering if you were looking for additional crew-members?" Looking back now, Mahlah blushed at those obvious signs of nervousness, or at least skittishness. Language had never allied itself with her, like it had with his father. Atticus had given her a look she'd not received before, and she'd felt her eyes wandering in embarrassment. Thankfully, her trusty goggles had masked most signs of discomfort, and she'd held her posture stout and proud. In her mind's eye, she knew she resembled her father in his element - she hastily brushed aside these thoughts. 


Atticus had asked her two cutting questions: what was she offering, and why. She'd smiled apart from herself - she'd prepared well. "I'm well acquainted with the mechanics of engines, and I used to work in communications before, well, I 'went rogue'." She'd flashed a convincing grin. "The pay was naff, and it was the labour equivalent to watching snow melt, not to mention the pay was rather unprofitable. I suppose in some ways, I'm in it for the fun, Mr Sol." That particular part was easy, because it held an element of truth. The following, however, was more difficult. "That and... I'm rather afraid the ghost of the man I killed last night has contacts within the empire who I'd like to escape from. I trust you're capable of providing refuge in return for my talents." For a moment, she'd though he'd see right through her. But then he'd laughed, said something derogatory about her sex, and welcomed her aboard. Her deception, for now, had worked.


The trouble now was maintaining this facade. By very nature Mahlah was far from the hardened, non-chalent ruffian she was masquerading as. She had no idea how to use a blaster, let alone how to kill a man using one! In fact, the thought of murder made her want to heave. And yet, even the success of her deception made her hate herself. After all, it was a trait she shared with her father. No - it was easier not to think. And perhaps, in escaping those silences, with their tendency to gnaw at her mind, becoming this fake persona became instinctual, a far easier alternative than facing the truth.


Mahlah sighed to herself, and returned to her book. She was the only person in the cabin at present, and in this rare moment of solitude had taken the liberty of removing her goggles. Her emerald eyes shone brightly as they scanned the text, as if making the most of their uncommon exposure. The book was a history book, the sort of scholarly chronicle her education had well familiarised her with, along with psychologically conditioning her to boredom upon opening. Yet now Mahlah read with unusual purpose, as if searching for something in particular, as if rushing to take in as much as possible. The book's title remained obscured.


Clank! Clank! Clank!


The heavy march of armored boots gave Mahlah a minor panic attack, and in a moment's illogical paranoia, she thought they'd found her. Instinctually, her hand flew to her goggles and in a she had re-adorned herself with them. She imagined the stormtroopers knocking on the door, then shooting it down, laying lasery-waste to her new-found home. She imagined with such clarity that she almost convinced herself it was real. But no - snap out of it, you silly - they were going past the ship. Still, that was a nerve-fryingly large imperial arsenal, and she was positive that they hadn't been in the hanger before. This place is prone to all sorts of mischief, so it's not really surprising, I suppose, for them to show up on mass, and for them to have something to shut down in the first place. Still, she couldn't help but worry that her new captain, and the source of her refuge, was also the source of this trouble. 


Roused by nervous curiousity, Mahlah slid off of the bunk and, very carefully, one eye on the door, hid the book back underneath. The last thing she wanted was people finding out what she was reading, and learning that dreadful secret too. She slid back into her pilot's jacket and made to leave the room. 


As the cabin door slid shut behind her, she discovered she was not alone in the corridor, and faced with one of her alien crewmates.


"Hello," she offered up, uneasily. 

Character Log
​

Mahlah Rebus has been a member of the crew since their last landing mere days earlier. She has lied to Atticus and to all who have bothered to pry into her character, claiming to be a fugitive by the name of Mahlah Zerius, on the run from rather vague pursuit after she killed a man. This is all a lie, but so far she has maintained this facade.


@Newson @Volfy @Proxploxtops and anyone else still on the ship, come interact!

 

[Daimao]

KROD
​

"Usssed to be," Krod said in response to the human, Atticus's first question about him being a doctor. To Atticus's second question, Krod gave a fang filled grin. "No, I don't eat humans. Anymore," he joked. Suddenly blaster fire split the air around them, and Krod instantly grabbed his rifle. Looking around, his superior eyesight soon locked onto the Imperial sniper. Krod didn't know who the sniper was shooting at, but he did know that when Stormtroopers started a firefight, no one was safe.


"Damn bucketheadsss," Krod growled. Bringing the scope of his rifle up to his right eye, Krod lined up a shot on the trooper's head. As he started to pull the trigger, something bumped into his foot, causing him to look away from the scope as he fired at the sniper. After all, it was better to line up a shot and look away as you fire than to keep looking through the scope if something bumps into your foot. Especially since the object could be a grenade. 


To Krod's relief, the object that had hit his foot was not a grenade, but was, in fact, a blaster pistol. As he looked for the blaster's owner, Krod's eyes locked onto a Chiss woman who had run into a stormtrooper and was laying on the ground. Bringing his hunting rifle to bear, Krod fired a shot at the trooper's chest.


@Lexielai @Epiphany

 

[Volfy]

Ashenaa Saar
​

[SIZE= 12px]Intereacted with Rig( @Newson) Mahlah( @SkyGinge)[/SIZE]
​

[SIZE= 12px]Mentioned: Atticus( @Lexielai)[/SIZE]
​

Ashenaa sat in the lounge on board the Traveler, her eyes fixed on the data pad before her. 'AEA-500 prospecting craft, HWK-1000 light freighter,  YT-1250 freighter'  She scrolled through a list of ships, her eyes scanning the model, date of arrival and departure, plus anything else noted down in the neat columns on her screen. 'YT-1760 transport,  YV-664 light freighter' Ash’s eyes quickly focused on the ‘YV’, but upon seeing its model number, moved past. None of them were what she was looking for. Giving a slight sigh, she continued to inspect the list, reading on for several more minutes before she tossed the pad to her side, rubbing her forehead in frustration. Ash had been trying to stave off the grim reality she sat in, but it was gnawing at her steadily, grinding down her normally wry, yet pleasant personality. What really ate at her was the inability to do anything about it. Not a single hint, bar some vague rumors about Talos Station, and that was it. 


She had only recently ‘joined’ the bizarre crew of the Traveler, having managed to get a lift with them to Talos. Atticus was a sort, that was for sure. Yet, he could be a lot worse, as could the rest of the crew. They reminded her of the pick and mix assortment of individuals she’d met on the Mel many years ago now. All of them had their own little quirks, but hey, didn’t everyone? So far Ash had kept to herself mostly. Not her usual behavior, but these weren’t usual times. Her plan had been to find what information she could and then catch a ship to wherever it lead her. That had just fallen apart however, with her having found nothing of value on the forsaken rock calling itself  Talos Station. Her first steps had been to investigate around some cantinas, ask some subtle questions, inquire into anything interesting. It had directed her to acquiring a docking list for the last month. With a few credits in the right hands, she’d gotten a copy of the brief inspection document, detailing the basic information of the ships which had stopped on the station recently. Yet, it had been useless. Only one ship had been the same model as the Mel, and that had left over a thirty-four days ago, a time when she’d still had her ship. It left her with a dead end, and little hope for finding anything else. And now, she was here. In the Outer Rim, with limited options for transport, but more importantly, no direction. 



Ashenaa retrieved her pad, making a move towards the bunks before pausing, picking up on the rhythmic thuds emanating from outside the ship. Blinking, she turned her head, listening closely. It was a little unsettling if it was what she thought it was. With quick steps, she moved out of the lounge and into the main corridor where she was greeted by the sight of two of the crew. A male Nautolan, Rig, was his name? As well as a quiet human girl. Ash glanced at the them, “Do you hear that?” she queried, a look of mild puzzlement on her face as she addressed the two. Honestly she didn’t know if  Atticus, or any of his crew crew had done something to earn them the ire of the Empire, but packs of stormtroopers didn’t show up for no reason, and it had her worried.

 

[Lexielai]

Atticus
​

“What the fuck!” Atticus shouted as the body of the Imperial Krod shot fell over the side of the building and onto the floor with a thump. Smoke erupted from the hole in the bastard’s helmet. Atticus nudged him with a foot, just to make sure he was dead, and turned back to Krod.


“Blast, why the hell did you have to do that? Now the Imperials are going to be after our asses too,” Atticus said, feeling a lot more irked now. He wasn’t a fan of the Empire, but he didn’t want them shooting at him either.


That’s when he noticed the hot blue woman from before, now fumbling on the ground and staring down the barrel of the Stormtrooper’s blaster. Krod fired first, his massive blaster’s bolt shooting past the buckethead’s eyes as he missed the target. Atticus didn’t.

​

He quickly walked over and helped her up. “I don’t know what kind of naughty shit you did to piss them off,” Atticus said, “but it looks like they ain't happy with us either.” He didn’t look at the fallen soldier with a fresh hole in his chest; his blaster, Lex, easily burned through the plastoid plating, struck the squishy body underneath, and passed through the other side to dissipate into some wall, scorched black by the powerful streak of plasma.  


The captain motioned to Krod just as another pair of Stormtroopers spun around the corner, weapons at the ready. “It’s the rebels, blast them!”


In a mere moment the street lit up into a lightshow of lasers. Atticus quickly motioned to Krod as he grabbed Nyis’ hand to pull her along. “Come on you big lizard, let’s get out of here,” he yelled over the noise as more Stormtroopers arrived, joining in on the firefight. Several of the pirates and smugglers already started trading fire with the Imperial troops, lending to the chaos that covered their escape.


They needed cover. Now. Atticus, hoping to get the hell out of the line of fire, immediately ran towards and around the corner TK-6149 emerged from with Nyis in tow, grunting as a shot grazed his shoulder. His jacket sizzled and flesh burned from the passing wound. Then a familiar face with distinctive violet hair appeared in view, accompanied by some sort of rusty protocol droid that he really felt like he should recognize.


Atticus briefly stopped, letting go of Nyis’ hand. “Vi? What in the blazes are you doing here? And who’s the orange lamppost?”

Violet
​

“Protective services…?” Violet questioned, still moving alongside the droid. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but it sounded like it would be a good thing. Probably. She agreed, though uncertainly, “Okay…?”


Violet wasn’t sure what to make of her companion. He, she always thought of it as a he, spoke so strangely. She supposed it was to be expected that they talked differently, since they weren’t people. Violet kind of wondered if all droids here spoke like this; the droids back home usually communicated in little beeps and boops that she struggled to understand.


The sounds of battle grew louder. They were getting close. Violet spun on her heel to twist around the corner, but stopped in her tracks as she recognized Atticus’ approaching figure.


“Violet? What in the blazes are you doing here? And who’s the orange lamppost?” he asked. Behind him was a really pretty blue woman with red eyes and some sort of scary lizard alien she’d never seen before.


Violet briefly turned to HK, almost as if asking for consent, before answering. “We heard the sounds and the white droi-person running over here, so we followed to check on you.”



Atticus looked a mix of amused and annoyed. “Right,” he said quickly. Suddenly a stray blaster shot flew by his ear and the captain ducked. His eyes turned to Violet’s. “Nevermind! Let’s catch up later. Run!”

DM BOX
​

@Epiphany Nyis, you're not very familiar with a blaster. Not to mention the difficulty of trying to aim while moving or under the pressure of return fire. As you try to shoot the sniper your shots go wide, flying wildly and scorching the buildings surrounding the Imperial while you flee. However, as you bump into the armed Stormtrooper TK-6149 and see his blaster pointed into your eyes, a sudden precise shot blows the soldier onto his back. You're not sure if it was Atticus or Krod who landed the killing blow since they were both behind you. 


@Daimao Krod, you catch the sniper by surprise. Occupied as he is by Cassian, he fails to notice you until your rifle blows a hole through his skull. He immediately collapses and falls off the side of the building. However, because you are not skilled in Ranged Combat, you fail to make the critical shot on TK-6149. Luckily the human, Atticus, seems to be more skilled than he looks. 


@BainOfBridges The meatbag has given you permission to exercise protective services. As you approach your master, Atticus, with the violet meatbag, you detect the rich sounds of battle right behind him. Unfortunately he seems to have given you the order to retreat. 


@Epiphany @Daimao @BainOfBridges The short skirmish has suddenly escalated as more Stormtroopers arrive, met by the pirates and scum who don't seem happy with the soldiers shooting up the place. Under the cover of the ensuing chaos, Atticus urges you to escape before you're caught in the crossfire.  

 

[Jabroni]

Dex Qorbin
​

Two Rodians, a kloo hornist and a fanfar player blew their instruments in a dimly-lit corner of the room. The one with the kloo horn tried to muster up a spicy solo. He was failing. Miserably. In annoying fashion, they continued on to the audience of no one in particular. The cantina was a sea of wobbly, half dazed denizens. Should any poor soul happen to be listening, he or she was clearly under the influence.


Dex helped himself to a pint of murky blue Ossberry ale. Its foul taste peeved him almost as much as this struggling band. Still, at this point in his travels he had become accustomed to low-quality bar service across the Outer Rim. "Oh how I do miss a good swish a' piss," he began singing. "To keep my spirits high and my teeth mellow yellowww." A froth of inky saliva spluttered along the edges of his mouth. He spent the last three days carrying on like some drunken fighter pilot. What was he waiting for? He ought to have left this dastardly rock by now with a bag full of credit chips.


"Shut up and deal already," a fat Sullustan interjected. He sat across the table with jowls betraying no hints, no obvious tells. Dex wasn't going to get anything out of him that way. Luckily, he still had a few handy "tricks" up his sleeve. He shuffled the cards for an extended rotation and cut the deck repeatedly. During each cut, he peeked at the bottom card as it followed sequence. The Sullustan failed to catch his sleight of hand.


"Hah! Four satellites! Beat that, you mangy little swamp dog," the Sullustan yelped excitedly. Those big, black eyes gleamed at one of the game's premium hands, and a few compatriots jeered along with their frog-mouthed friend. They exchanged pats on the back like they just built a bridge or something. Granted, a thousand credits was a thousand credits. You could buy a whole shipment of piss water with that.


"Hate to ruin the moment boys," Dex said as he sprawled out a full planetary system. "And with Corellia I think that's pretty high." Without further adieu, he gathered up all the chips and tucked them inside his satchel. He took another look at the group as he made his leave. They all were all fuming and speechless. And then suddenly...


"The human cheated!" blurted one of the viewers, a frightening Barabel standing well over six feet. "Look at his handz! He dealz from the bottom!" Ah, for crying out loud. The trick only worked one-on-one, not against a group of space thugs (who obviously were used to this). That was Dex's cue to get the hell out of dodge. He bolted for the entrance followed by his angry pursuers as they spilled into a packed corridor. The sight and sound of blaster tracers carried from wall to wall, causing a great deal of pandemonium.


Dex ran between bystanders, jumped over crates and suitcases and attempted to create obstacles by knocking over objects in his path. Damnit, Dex. You really got yourself into some shit this time.

 

[Newson]

Rig Lhinkha
​

 
​

The sight of a timid woman came into his sights. The first thing to stand out was the strange helmet on her head. He wasn't sure if it was a helmet, visor, or fashion statement. But from what he knows about her, it's most likely some sort of helmet with a visor. Her well-kept manner and clothing was very contrasting to his dirty and messy garb, covered in stains. He almost felt inferior to her, but he kept his head high. He had to make a good first impression. That's when she spoke.


"Hello," she muttered uneasily. Rig thinks her name as Mahlah, a human of course. She was obviously nervous, but she also had an feeling of confidence around her. He noticed she may have been nervous, but she was also feeling a variety of different emotions. Her energy was different than anyone else. Rig was definitely intrigued in what she had in store.


"Um, hey. I don't think we've met. I'm Rig, your local Nautolan," Rig proclaimed with a slight smirk. He wanted to come off as casual, but well-kept. He had to have a certain air around him, so he could give a good first impression. Rig was lost in the moment, he was thinking up all the scenarios that could happen, and thinking up proper responses to anything. The scenarios were endless, and he had the perfect plan to all of them, well, most of them. The chances of her attacking him were slim, as he did not have a reaction to a sudden attack.

That's when another crew member emerged from one of the rooms. It was another alien, it was some relief on Rig's behalf. She was a Togruta female, not a half bad looking one. Some of the Togruta females he's met before haven't been so, pleasing to look at. He thinks he remembers being named Ashenaa, or something along the lines. Alongside Rig, she was showing off her midriff, so he felt another connection to her. She was wearing a sleek black outfit, a flight jacket with black pants and a tool belt. She must've been a junk-head as well. Unless the tool belt was for her aesthetic, this woman was highly interesting to Rig. Then again, everyone is.


"Um, hey there. I'm Rig-" Rig attempted to introduce himself, but the marching of boots cut him off, alongside Ashenaa cutting him off.


"Did you hear that?" she queried. He nodded in agreement.



"Definitely," he responded. He quickly moved to one of the windows overlooking the hangar bay. That's when he saw something so horrifying to him. Almost a sea of Imperial Stormtroopers. They found him, or are trying to find him. The thought of them being here for something else was outweighed by the thought of Rig's safety at danger.


"Blast! Imperials," Rig swore. He turned to the cabin once again, and looked to his fellow shipmates. "Lay low, maybe they won't come in here," he muttered. Today was not going to be the day he got caught by the Empire. Not today.


(Interaction: Mahlah (@SkyGinge) and Ashenaa (@Volfy) )

 

[SkyGinge]

Mahlah Rebus
​

She knew it was wrong, she knew it was bad. She knew it was going to get her in all sorts of trouble. But deep down, she knew what she felt - a certain disliking of non-humans.


There were reasons, as ever, but there were no excuses, she told herself. From the confines of her sheltered upbringing, Mahlah had barely ever met anybody who wasn't human. She'd passed them on the streets a few times when out with mother and her family, but they'd always been hurried away from the shoddy little shacks they kept, as if their otherworldly lives might contaminate hers. There were a few Chiss in father's line of work, but she'd never much been a fan of them as they looked rather scary. However, it was more than just mere ignorance. People were just about ok to cope with, but how could she know what to expect from something (or rather, someone, she corrected internally) entirely unfamiliar? It felt like trying to negotiate with a cat, something frighteningly unfamiliar who, whilst seeming reasonable enough, left her with the sneaking suspicion they were just in it for the milk.


At least this one... no, at least he (baby steps, Mahlah) opened up conversation with a relatively unassuming introduction, and he even handily introduced his species so that she wouldn't have to embarrass herself over it. Compared to his dirty mechanics wear, she found herself feeling somewhat overdressed in her well-kept garb. But - ooh - mechanical wear - that meant they had something in common, something she could talk about with him! Yet his skin was green, and his eyes completely black. And, for some reason, he'd decided on fashion which would needlessly show off his abs (she tried not to stare) - instinctively, she found herself forming a judgement which she privately rebuked herself for.


Before she could offer up a response, another one appeared - she was outnumbered. This one had orange flesh and some weird hair-flesh-tentacle things. Thank goodness they couldn't see her eyes - she guiltily wondered if they would betray her feelings. Rig attempted to introduce himself again and was cut off - Mahlah couldn't help but offer up a sympathetic smile - that could've likely been me.


It seemed they'd all been stirred by the troops outside. The company of two unfamiliars, no matter their species, was a slight comfort to her - no doubt they'd be better in arms than her should things go downhill. She laid low as Rig confirmed what their ears had already warned them off, and she nodded at his sentiment. Although she was also scared by the prospect, she knew it was unlikely - after all, what business would an army of stormtroopers have with a quiet, basically empty transport ship?


"It's probably not us," she said, "That they're after, I mean. There's no reason for it, really, not that I can think of. No." She paused, pouted contemplatively. "The captain, though. I think he's probably quite good really at getting himself in trouble. All the alcohol, and whatnot. I hope he's ok."


@Volfy @Newson

 

[BainOfBridges]

HK-51
​

"Jubilant commentary: Excellent decision master Vi! Now- if you could just procure me a-" is all that HK manages to get out in response before he and Violet both run into a human, chiss and a trandoshian. Sounds like the start of a bad joke. HK's photoreceptors focus away from the pair as they exchange words to examine the two new meatbags. Ah yes, a trandoshian! He would make an excellent addition to HK's kill-list if he were to act against his new master. HK is certain that if their scorekeeper deity were in fact a reality that he with his hunter killer protocols would be seen as a messiah. And the blue alien... he does not have any imagery records of such a species in his databanks. But judging by the appearance of this woman, she may be of the Chiss race. A rare sight indeed in both this and his own times, though pieces of their weaponry could once be found on the black market in his days. 


It is strange, HK notes; that master atticus does not recognize him. Though HK realizes this may likely be one of the effects of atticus' alcohol intake. Perhaps with careful wording he may be able to get himself freed from service!
 


"Run!" Comes atticus' command. Never mind.

"Frustrated retort: But we just got here!"
 


Assuming that the group before HK does this rather smart act of getting well away from the blaster bolts being shot left right and center, HK would twist and reluctantly follow. He yearns for battle and a blaster pistol. He could still hit a few of the stormtroopers from here, four at least! Their white composite armor makes for easy spotting amidst the band of rogues and bandits. But alas, they are on the retreat. Sarcastic comments will have to do instead.
 


"Analysis: Greetings new meatbags. Your respective skins are indicating signs of extreme pneumonia and eczema. I would recommend seeing a medical droid."


@Lexielai @Daimao @Epiphany

 

[Volfy]

Ashenaa Saar
​

[SIZE= 12px]Intereacted with Rig( @Newson) Mahlah( @SkyGinge)[/SIZE]
​

[SIZE= 12px]Mentioned: Atticus (@Lexielai)[/SIZE]
​

Ashenaa kept her head titled slightly, listing to the rhythmic sound beating outside. She couldn't tell if they were moving away, or converging on the Traveler. The response from her two impromptu companions was somewhat distant to her ears. Her mind was already thinking of a plan, should the stormtroopers be intend on boarding the ship. Fighting wasn't an option, if they wanted to live. Perhaps the human girl was right, maybe they weren't here for Atticus's ship. The man himself though, or one of his crew members perhaps, she wasn't so sure.
​

 
​

Ash turned her gaze to the girl once more, quickly taking in what details she could. She was slight of frame with dark hair, the helmet..thing, she wore covered most of her face, preventing Ashenaa from gauging her reaction much, beyond her fairly timid tone. The human didn't seem the type to be on this sort of ship, with her comparably neat, formal clothing. Contrasted by Ash and Rig's rather basic flight gear. She had an air about her as well, one which wasn't common on smuggler vessels. Moving over to where Rig stood, Ashenaa took in the sight of the hanger bay. A mass of armored troopers stomped past, a Lambda class ship was stationed not far away, several troopers standing near it. 
​

 
​

It didn't appear they were after the ship, but Ashenaa still glanced at Rig, now summing him up as well. She still didn't know any of the crew, and didn't trust them for a second. Blind faith in the good will of others was a naive, and childish stance which you couldn't afford to take if you wanted to live long in these parts. So Ashenaa turned her eyes back to the troopers, watching them march by. "I don't think their interested in us..." She spoke aloud, not really speaking to either Rig or the human.
​

 
​

 Turning away, Ash looked back at both of them. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Probably." with a dismiss wave she continued. "You don't last long a captain if you aren't good at just getting away with shit by the skin of your teeth." The thumping of Imperial boots had lessened slightly, confirming it wasn't anyone on board they were interested in. For now.
​

 
​

"Still. I don't like that they've shown up. As much as they brighten up the place." Ashenaa offered a light smile at the two. "Either of you know when the others are getting back? I'm not sure we should hang around here any longer then we have to."
​

 

[Epiphany]

Nyis Veli-An-Dach
​

Interacted with Atticus (@Lexielai), Krod (@Daimao), HK-51 @BainOfBridges
​

The Chiss' wine-red eyes are open wide as the Stormtrooper she'd run into drops dead of blaster fire.  Her breath is shallow and fast and beads of sweat break out across her forehead.  She'd negotiated deals with hostile clients, bent VPS and senior executives to a schedule they didn't want and survived dozens of political backstabbing efforts by her Bothan colleagues.  But this?  Gunfire?  


Then the rugged human she'd found so amusing moments earlier is in front of her, hand extended.   “I don’t know what kind of naughty shit you did to piss them off,” the man said, “but it looks like they ain't happy with us either.” 


"I don't know," she replies.  "I just arrived.  What are the bloody Imperials doing here anyway?"


At which point the stormtroopers showed up and started firing.  Nyis snatches up her blaster, gets as far as thinking about returning fire, and then stumbles as the human grabs her hand and pulls her out of the way.  Everywhere around her, people start firing back on the Imperials.  The stormtroopers, for their part, didn't seem terribly worried about hitting bystanders either.  This was shaping up to be a slaughter.  The violet haired human and her droid companion barely drew a blink from the Chiss woman.  Clearly they knew each other.  All of these people.  Except perhaps for the Trandoshan who might be as confused as she is, if she could read his facial expressions which she couldn't.  


"Whoever saved my life, thank you," she says at last, catching her breath.  And then everyone was running again.  With a sigh, the blue-skinned woman with red eyes runs with them, silently grateful for her 30 minutes of cardio scheduled into her daily routine.  


"Analysis: Greetings new meatbags. Your respective skins are indicating signs of extreme pneumonia and eczema. I would recommend seeing a medical droid."


"Right," she replies back to the droid.  "I'll...get right on that."

 

[Newson]

Rig Lhinkha
​

The two of his companions offered their own take on what the Stormtroopers were here for. Both of them assumed they weren't here for us. The fear was still on Rig's mind, but he was more at ease with the assistance of his crew mates. He believed they may be here for some other reason, but the feeling of Stormtroopers being on the same station as him was very uneasy. He turned around to look back at the two of them, and found Ashenaa rather close to him. She must've been peering out the same window as he was; it startled him nonetheless.


Ashenaa offered words of assurance, promising to Mahlah that Atticus would be fine. Mahlah seemed very concerned for the well-being of their captain. Rig would be lost without him, but he's not that concerned for him. Rig had the conclusion that Atticus could easily handle himself. Especially since Violet and that new HK unit robot were out there with him, he probably could easily survive.


Ashenaa then brought up that she was also uneasy about the Stormtroopers, then mentioned not hanging around the ship, and asked if we knew when the others would be coming back. Did she want to leave the safety of the ship? For the possibility of finding our crew?


"I'm not a big fan of the idea of leaving the ship. We're pretty safe in here from what I can gather," Rig mentioned. He wasn't going to just leave the ship for a wild hunt. "I think they'll be back soon. For now, we simply relax, and hope that those bucket-heads don't bother us," he offered with a smile. Both him and Ashenaa were trying to lighten the mood for poor Mahlah, who seemed easily distraught.


(Interactions: Ashenaa (@Volfy) and Mahlah (@SkyGinge) )

 

[Jabroni]

Dex Qorbin
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​

"Get him!" yelled the black-eyed poker player. There were four of them - each one appearing eager to rip Dex's head off. He knew he couldn't face these guys with scarcely a blaster (especially factoring in his lousy aim). Even if he managed to strike the most threatening of the bunch, the massive Barabel, would he fall or simply shrug off the pain? The latter seemed far more likely given the circumstances. No, he decided. To draw would be to die.
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Size was still on his side, though. Size and experience when it came to playing cat and mouse, and his small stature plainly demanded he should play the mouse in this scenario. The only question now was, "Where do mice hide in a place like this?" While weaving through traffic, he found his answer. On the far side of the corridor stood an alley where a stormtrooper had fallen. It looked like a rifle took a nasty bite out of the buckethead's chest. He paid the body a tentative glance before refocusing on the alley. A chase through there could spill out into a dozen passageways. It could also lead to a dead end, but there was no time to fret about that. He had to act.
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  "That's my money!" the Sullustan cried to the tune of cursing. Dex made a bee line for the opening, ducking through the undercarriage of some bow-legged creature in the process. He was still ahead of his pursuers. However, they were gaining on him at a steady clip. Perhaps equally concerning proved his already winded breath; wiz kids weren't known for their cardio nor their gymnastic abilities. I should've been a striker for the Boar-Wolves, he mused. Then he could run circles around Talos Station for hours.
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Half a misstep nearly ended in Dex busting his ass against a cargo tug carousel as it crossed the opposite end of the alley. Frogster and the gang weren't so lucky. The burly Barbel was the first to go down amid a clattering thud. Cargo modules slid off as the olive reptile bowled over, hissing in anguish. "Ratzzz!"
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Dex jerked his neck around to see how much the herd had thinned. To his surprise, they all lay tumbled in a neat pile. Also surprising was the apparent insurrection unfolding before him: red tracers flying, people running to and fro, and yet another dead stormtrooper. He wouldn't normally jog toward a dead body but the shuttle port was in that direction.
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@Lexielai @Daimao @Epiphany @BainOfBridges
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(( Dex would be running your way from about 50 yards. Probably. ))
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[Daimao]

KROD
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Keeping his head as low as he could, which was actually not very low, Krod followed Atticus and the blue woman as they fled from the escalating firefight. A stormtrooper made the mistake of stepping in front of Krod in an attempt to stop the Trandoshan, only to be lifted up and tossed to the side. Looking over his shoulder, he saw pure chaos unfolding behind them. Stormtroopers were gunning the station's scum, and said scum was returning the favor.


Looking forwards again, Krod saw a purple haired human female and a rust covered droid approach them. Judging by Atticus' dialogue with them, they were part of his crew.


"Analysis: Greetings new meatbags. Your respective skins are indicating signs of extreme pneumonia and eczema. I would recommend seeing a medical droid." Krod grimaced at the droid's words.


"Either that wasss attempt at joke, or your medical databanksss are incorrect," he hissed in reply, before turning to the blue woman. "You might want to keep tighter grip on that in the future," he says, nodding his head at her blaster pistol, before returning to the task of following Atticus.


@Lexielai @Epiphany @BainOfBridges