Homeless Again, Naturally

[Latus]

Only on the planet for a few ticks and she had already run off. The assassin seemed so unstable that the youth didn't much care. After all that she had done to him it was no small miracle that he had not broken every bone in her body in revenge. However the point was not to fall to petty things like revenge. Ever since the occurrences on Mustafar, the meeting up with the odd trio, it seemed like they were all in the same boat. Four strange people not truly belonging in this galaxy, trying to stay alive and free. What had been a sizable group, the four of them, had split so suddenly; Victor on Mustafar, Whiskey right when they had landed. More than her sister, however, Whiskey seemed confused; at least the sister knew how to change his bandages. Not that it mattered anymore as his wounds had healed quickly completely removing the need for coverings only days into their trip back to Tattooine.

But now, here they were. Axle and Tango. Two freaks wanting nothing better than a little bit of fresh air. Granted, Axle wanted more than that but his wings remained clipped, literally. An oversight on his "creator's" part was the inability for his feathers to grow back nearly as quickly as he had knitted wounds back together from a crash from orbit. Ironic in a way saddening in another. However, here they both were, still intending to split even further.

Axle still had his ship 'Journey' and, thanks to a little "aggressive bargaining" Tango now had one of her own as well. The good ship, Plunger, was a nice piece if a bit rough around the edges. Now, however, the young man was set to bid both the woman and the ship adieu.

Tango was into the ship's small medical station pulling out the bits that Axle imagined were most useful. As he stepped into the room he stopped and leaned against the door, watching her work. Neither of them were going to see the small freighter again and, in a way, it saddened the young man. He was forced to realize, however, that sentiments were not for those like him and the assassin he was watching; it made the mind think unnecessary things.

I wanted to say thank you, Tango. His voice was crisp and clean reverberating off the metallic walls and hull. I would be dead or worse if you hadn't taken care of me. He wanted to look her in the eyes but, considering the woman he didn't know if she would look or not. Either way his pause lasted a small handful of moments before he turned.

Good-bye.

Not saying another word he made his way to the boarding ramp, lowered it, and tromped out into the dry Tattooine air, slipping on his long jacket as he went.

He knew these suns, their scorching rays welcome but merciless on unprotected skin. The wind was high today but not so much to kick up one of the barren planet's infamous dust storms and choke the settlement in so much silt. In the shade the warmth was bearable, even pleasant as he glanced to the exit to the docking port they had landed in. Oh how he wanted to stretch his wings, fly up and away from that settlement, to be alone in the middle air again. He could get to the Journey in no time flat. But no, not for more time than he hoped to think about. The new feathers were coming in slowly, almost painfully so. He could glide if he needed to but not outright fly.

The Journey will let me fly again. That will have to be enough for now.

Slowly he stepped away from the Plunger, away, out into the blazing suns. Immediately he felt his skin tighten under the onslaught and responded by picking up his pace, slipping from one shady spot to another all in long smooth strides. Moving into a terminal tunnel he had soon entered the spaceport proper and melded with the crowds. He walked slowly, his visage blending into the myriad of different beings, no one caring that there was another tall, thin human among them. Axle guessed, as Whiskey had "caught" him, the alerts would be down for some time yet. That didn't mean he could afford to let his guard down. Nor did he; his stance was rigid, his hands flexed, and his eyes scanned back and forth. His destination was several docking-cells down, he wouldn't let anyone get in the way of his taking to the sky again.

*****************

Fratzin' bloody farkin gorram... In anger, Axle's fist connected with the wall sending stone, plaster, and a little bit of skin flying. Though now raw knuckled he hadn't broken anything but he almost wished that he had. The wanderer had found his ship but that didn't keep his eyes from beginning to water with frustration. There sat the Journey all right, broken strut and chassis... and that was about it. She was stripped bare, sitting on a wing strut and still listing heavily to port, everything practically licked clean of worth. Hell, even the seat padding was gone, the adhesive sealant ripped or cut completely off. Growling in anger he turned and kicked a synth-wood box so hard that his boot went through the side panel. Groaning he with drew his boot, turned and sat down on the same crate, the three remaining sides still able to hold his limited weight. Hopeless thoughts entered his mind as his face pressed into his hands, eyes clamped together in an attempt to keep his emotions from overwhelming him. Taking a deep breath he groaned and sat straight looking at his once operable ship.

What now? Didn't even leave the seats much less the engines... bloody vultures. Gotta try and salvage.

Standing, his heat rose with him and in only a few strides he was kneeling beside the remains of someone he could consider a family member, a loved one. Gritting his teeth he crawled into the bare cockpit. Plopping into the seat he gasped at the hard backing and shifted his seat. Rubbing his hands together he pulled the memories of where he had hidden a few key things in the chassis for those just in case moments. Running his hands along the edges he immediately found something that the scavengers must not have found useful or worth-while; his adjustable gauge omni-wrench. Good start...

The process of stripping the remaining panels and fasteners from the hulk became immensely more practical with his favorite tool and weapon in hand. While many of his hidden caches were still in tact, credit chips, a piece of clothing or two, a stolen time piece, the act of dismantling the Journey made the finds bittersweet. The ship had been his life, his home for all but a few days after he escaped and now to dismantle it... Axle sighed heavily and stood, moving around the back side of his once sturdy ship. Crouching behind the hulk he shifted his third set of appendages, the second joint and tip on his right wing pressing against the fabric of his jacket until, with a protesting zip, the panel gave way, allowing his wing to be slipped gently through the opening. He kept it down, almost touching the rough dirt and ran a hand over it, the feeling ticking the barbs that had not fallen out yet. Grabbing the barb of one of the itchiest barbs he tugged, the half feather falling free. In a single motion he had reached up and jammed it into a limited opening below the cockpit, the white and gray of the half-feather rustling in the gentle breeze. The act done Axle withdrew his wing into his jacket, the shoulder shifting around under the fabric until it was secure. Bowing to the ship he pocketed everything he found before turning and retreating from the docking bay.

Though it wasn't as meaningful as with a full primary it would have to do for now. Only then did the young mind of the man catch up with him and a tear rolled down his dust stained face. Sniffing once he forcibly removed his mind from the sentiment he held for the ship; he had to move on. He immediately began thinking of his next move. He had some credits now so options were certainly available...

Used ship dealer.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Once again Victor was gone…

She wasn’t quite alone this time, but yet again she’d been forced to leave him to keep herself and the others safe. He had, like last time, told her to…and Axle had been a bit more willing than she’d liked. During the times that Tango’s RELIC was…unstable…she blamed herself, like last time, for not trying harder…doing more. They all could have made it, if only she’d done better. When her RELIC was ‘stable’ she simply accepted the fact as a truth. Either way she was content with the knowledge that he was, at least, alive. She knew he could take care of himself…he would be alright. It didn’t make the loss of her partner, a second time, any easier on her though.

When they’d gotten to the desert planet, Tango had already made peace with the idea that Axle would leave for his own ship, but Whiskey leaving had been something she hadn’t quite expected. No, that wasn’t true either…she had suspected it would happen, but she hadn’t wanted it to. It had been made clear, though, that it was what Whiskey desired, so she wasn’t going to stand against her. It left a bit of a hole in her though…something she was starting to understand. When the RELIC malfunctioned, she felt sad about the situation, wondering why things always came down to this feeling, but at least she was starting to learn how to deal with the emotion…learning how to press it down and ignore it. No matter what she wanted, though, she knew that what Victor had said to her on Mustafar was right: everyone deserved the chance to decide what they wanted for themselves.

Maybe that was why she let Whiskey go so easily? No, it wasn’t easy…nothing about it had been easy, but she had allowed Whiskey to leave without a struggle; without an argument. Now here she was, preparing to leave this oddly shaped ship just like the others. Though the RELIC was only partially functioning, she had enough of a mind to go about gathering items she would need. Tools were first, then medical supplies, then any other supplies she found useful, then searching the ship for anything she could sell that she didn’t need and lastly food supplies. Whatever she could carry, she would take. In fact, Axle found her in the middle of this scavenging as she sorted through the medical supplies for what she most needed to replace.

“I wanted to say thank you, Tango. I would be dead or worse if you hadn’t taken care of me.”

Lavender eyes blinked up at his words, one eyebrow raising slightly as she gave him a quizzical look. ”I did not see another choice. As a medic it is my duty to assure the continued well-being of others.” She paused a moment, thinking over her reply. It seemed as if there was more to say, but she wasn’t certain what it might be. It was some sort of odd…emotion…or something. ”I…could not just allow you to suffer. I am not entirely sure why, since logically, it would have proven safer for me to do so than showing you my face, telling you my name and allowing you to live. I just…ask that you do not tell others about me.”

For a moment she found that she…didn’t want him to go.

Why? …I don’t understand. I have no ties to him, why shouldn’t I be fine with his leaving?

“Good-bye”

She blinked at him and watched as he left for the boarding ramp. Keen ears heard it cycle down, then his footsteps down it and into the dry, hot, weather.

She followed.

Pausing at the top of the ramp, she hesitated a moment before pressing the button to cycle it back up and then went back about her business. For two hours she shifted through things, fitting them into her pack and another two that she had found; one that would hold things she found useful, and one of items she could sell for some decent sum of money…or barter with. Finally, with that done, she would leave the ship and head out into the scorching heat. The first man who passed, she stopped, spoke to, then headed to her new destination. The shop was dark and fairly cool on the inside, especially after the blistering noon-time daylight.

---

One pack lighter, and with a decent amount of the planet’s ‘money,’ Tango had not only haggled a good amount, but sold the stolen ship for likely more than it was worth to a bounty hunter who seemed to want to get off planet a bit too badly. He’d paid her in credits, of course, but she wasn’t going to turn down the money. Credits would do her good in the majority of the galaxy and it got rid of a ship that would bring attention onto her. Now she was headed somewhere important…somewhere that she could get a ship that would be less conspicuous and not be listed as stolen…not to mention it would be something she could fly without having to think twice about what she was doing.

Stepping into the main shop, she didn’t waste time in finding a bothan who was more than willing to help her. And so the search began. Naming a price, she was lead to a decent array of ships, some in better condition than others. A few fighters, a light freighter or two, a couple of modified patrol craft, and a military grade scout craft. The fighters are out of the question, she mused, as she looked at the line-up. There is no way I could smuggle anything or transport any one in them should I choose to go either route. So she surveyed the freighters. She was no expert, but she knew enough about what her companions used to understand that the freighters were neither heavily armed enough, nor fast enough, to out-match (or even hold their own against) them.

This brought her to the two modified patrol craft and the scout ship…

[Latus]

Never having considered shopping for spaceships an option before, it was somewhat surprising to the young man just how many used ship dealers there was on that sun-baked dust-ball. Hell, the town in which he stood had two minor ones, both of which he had to investigate for possibilities. Shaking his head he activated the shut down function on his datapad and slipped it back into his jacket. It was also surprising how expensive these damned ships were. He had originally acquired the Journey on his wonderful personality and a few bruised knuckles but here, because he wanted to stay inconspicuous, that option was not available.

His boots scraped on the compacted dust as he strode along the sun drenched avenue avoiding eyes and the twin suns whenever he had the chance. It was in a way reassuring that many people here, spacers and locals alike, did the same. His skin was a shade darker by the time he had reached the first seller on his map, a store run by a bothan that was "reputed" for having an interesting selection of ships. He may not have had the funds to buy one but interesting ships were right up Axle's alley. Slipping into the shadowed doorway he drank in the cool dry air as he momentarily watched as the many sentients came and went. They were window shoppers mostly, trying to catch a deal or a break on a new hard drive synchronizer or electrical spanner for a life support system.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Axle's eyes wandered away from the components and the odd goings on to a hovering droid that had seemingly appeared out of the junk and was now floating before him speaking in metallic basic.

"Are you here for parts? Or would you like to browse our ships?"

Ships. Show me the snubs and light freighters.

"Yes, sir. Follow me."

Not even rotating on its axis the droid floated away from him, hovering a little more than a meter off the floor at any one point. Axle followed but was almost more interested in looking at parts for a ship that he no longer had. Mentally shaking his head he quickened his step to pace the droid as it led from the shaded building and out into a back-lot where ship after ship was parked, each practically dust-covered from inactivity. The young man groaned. He doubted he would find anything of use here.

As the droid led the way past ships of all different makes and models his head inspected each. None of them were like the Plunger, much to his dismay. No hidden catches, no loving care that only a mechanic could give; they were all practically stock with a jury-rigged part here or a busted running light there. Through all of it the droid chortled on in its hollow voice telling him about the ship classes and how "great a deal" he could receive. Before long they reached the end of the lot and took a left into the ships that looked more like mothballed military than something inconspicuous. Shaking his head Axle continued walking, ignoring the droid while looking this way and that.

As they turned a corner in the row Axle's breath caught and he paused in his step. There stood Tango, talking with what looked to be the bothan owner. Acknowledging that he was in no danger from this Green Meadows assassin he swallowed hard and followed the droid that eventually passed directly before her. For some reason his mind couldn't think of any other way out of this. His credit situation was just too low to purchase one of these ships outright and he was out of options. He supposed it was a good thing that he ran into her here... at least they knew each other.

Hello... Miss T. We meet again.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Now, as the bothan went about telling her the perks of the scout craft, Tango just couldn’t see it being something that would suit her potential needs. The engines were decent grade, if a bit old, but the hyperdrive wouldn’t hold a candle to the newer, faster, drives the others would be using. Not only that, but what would a scout ship be used for anyway? It wasn’t as if she was trying to sneak up on anyone and board their ship…perhaps it would be decent for bounty hunting, but when they went aboard it didn’t have any of the few rooms modified to hold prisoners…and to make those modifications herself would take time and funds she didn’t have. The two patrol craft, however, had at least one cell each.

“…90 degree rotating, twin Luxor engines…military grade sensor suite…”

Lavender eyes studied the Vesper’s dark grey and maroon form. The twin medium gatling lasers, the anti-fighter concussion missiles, the twin engines, the…man who she recognized. It was obvious from his glance that he recognized her as well. How could they not, after having only just left each other’s company? The bothan man with her paused in his sales pitch as he noticed her looking at the younger man.

“Hello…Miss T. We meet again.”

Nodding slightly, she blinked at him quietly once before offering a kind enough smile, though it didn’t seem to quite reach her eyes.

”I wasn’t expecting to see you again…certainly not so soon anyway. I was under the impression that you were going back to your own ship. What brings you here?” Truth be told, she was sold on the Vesper, but she was going to make the bothan sweat for it and see if she couldn’t haggle down the price a bit, but with Axle’s arrival her mind found itself focused on something different. An attempt to come up with a reason why the man would be here only turned up a handful of possibilities, none of them particularly positive.

[Latus]

If Tango was surprised by his reappearance, which she had every right to be, she did not show it. His second shoulders itched by the impromptu interaction but he couldn't allow himself to show it here, either; getting her to take him was not the ideal in this situation but he had no other choice. Stars and clouds... Axle hated talking to people, even his previous interaction did not make this easy. As she spoke he did the only thing he could to keep himself from feeling embarrassed, look at the ships they were surrounded by. His eyes hesitated on the one Tango appeared to be looking at, a sturdy if old-looking patrol craft he could only wonder what this bothan was charging for a piece like this.

"What brings you here?”

"Change of plans, I'm afraid. J... my ship was left to rust and it was practically stripped. I saved a few small items, He said, gesturing at his overcoat and the small number of tools at his hip. As well as a small amount of money but I cannot afford any of these ships"

He paused, wringing his hands together as he looked at Tango, looked at the bothan owner, and back to her. The droid, who had finally realized Axle was no longer interested in ships, hovered to his side. Huffing he waved it away and took a deep breath, standing in the awkward silence.

"This is not ideal, I know. However, it seems like you should have enough for a ship. If you give passage to one of the Inner Rim worlds you can leave me there and we would never see each other again."

There, he asked. His trepidations against this were twofold. For one the chance of them being found may be greater than if they were alone but what clenched it was that he would have to spend more time around the assassin.

It certainly was an interesting day; he hoped he would never have to see her again but now here he was practically begging for her help. As he waited for an answer he spoke up again, hoping to seal a deal with her.

"I could also take a look at the engines and running systems, get them running at a higher quality than, I am sure... He gave a casual glance at the bothan, who seemed to step back out of the conversation. As he began again did he leaned in and spoke at a lower volume hoping they two would be the only ones to hear. I'm sure the maintenance quality is not the best.

A twinge on his left wing made him straighten and reach through his jacket to his back, grasping another barb and pulling it free. Rather than bring it out into sight he slipped it into a hidden pocket on the inside of the jacket. Other than that, there was nothing left to do but wait. He hoped she would agree to his proposal but there certainly was nothing stopping her from saying no.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

“Change of plans I’m afraid.”

She folded her arms lightly across her chest, lifting an eyebrow slightly as he explained the situation. Interesting. If only he’d stayed long enough to sell the Plunger with her, he would have had half the profits from it…certainly enough to buy something worth flying. These ships, substandard as they were, were at least of a decent quality and make…half of the proceeds would have knocked the choices down a few notches, but the way he was making it sound she could only guess that he would have only been able to afford a jalopy.

Lavender tinted eyes only barely bothered to take note of the way he shifted and wrung his hands, looking between herself and the bothan. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, but she struggled to understand why. She was just pondering what to say when he broke the silence himself. Her other eyebrow lifted at his words before her face was a steady neutral once more as she considered his request. It was a logical enough request, though he was correct that it was far from ideal. Resting one hand on butt of Victor’s MAP, strapped onto her thigh, Tango considered several bargains she might propose to him…a sort of way for him to ‘pay his ride’ to whatever planet he wished.

Again he beat her to the most logical conclusion…

“I could also take a look at the engines and running systems, get them running at a higher quality than, I am sure…”

Before he even finished his thought she held up a hand to stop him.

”I had reached that same conclusion. While I am skilled in some areas of repair I was never the expert and you seem knowledgeable enough to do the job. Therefore, I will accept that as agreeable compensation for passage to whatever planet you wish.”

Turning back to the bothan, she nodded to him. Taking that as his cue, he restated the price for the Vesper. She hadn’t changed her mind on the price she wanted and wasted no time in pointing out all the flaws she had seen in the ship. Superficial flaws were left out, of course, but as she moved around the ship, her eyes fixing on the rusted struts, the damage to some of the wiring she saw when she opened one of the maintenance panels…ect…she made sure to point out the valid flaws in the ship.

”I could find something more worth my money across town. I hear they have a better selection anyway…”

Snapping the panel closed, she turned away from the ship and gave the bothan owner only a fraction of a glance before her eyes caught on Axle again. ”Come on then, no point in wasting our money here with such poor stock.”

“Wait!”

And she did…the verbal dance pausing a moment with her actions before continuing continuing.

”Yes?”

“I can assure you they don’t have any better stock than myself, Miss.”

She smiled.

”We shall see.”

The bothan eyed the ship a moment before his eyes snapped back to Tango as she started off again.

“Let me prove it to you, then.”

The assassin paused and turned back just slightly, lifting an eyebrow as she changed her mental (and verbal) footing to follow along with her intended plan.

”And just how will you do that? Do you have your competition’s business wired with cameras?”

The owner chuckled (albeit a little forced) at her sarcastic humor…not that she’d intended it to be that exactly.

“Ah…no. I’m just sure that once you feel this ship start up, you’ll change your mind.”

Turning back around fully, she glanced to Axle before nodding slightly and letting the man usher them along inside. Fine, she would let him lead for a while in this little mental dance they were going through. Mildly she wondered if he even realized it. Certainly he had to…right? As they stepped inside, she glanced around, speaking her mind.

”This will take a bit of cleaning…I have to say, I’m unimpressed.”

She might have been had they bothered to do some basic cleaning inside. The ship wasn’t dirty per-se, but it wasn’t clean either…it was missing the basic upkeep (and even had a few bits of sand-related damage here and there) caught her keen eyes. If it hadn’t been for that, she could have said she didn’t mind the inside one bit. Ah well, more leverage for the bothan to chew on as he tried to convince her.

[Latus]

”I had reached that same conclusion..."

Axle was startled by the directness of her reply. While he had partially expected his offer to be turned down his shoulders couldn't help but relax a fraction of an inch at her reply. The itching on his second shoulders seemed to abate as well, hopelessness replaced by a glimmer of hope. Right now everything was one step at a time and this was a step in the right direction to get him off planet. He was even glad he was earning his passage; long stints in space set him to itching more than any amount of interaction with this woman. Acceptance... she not so bad.

Choosing to look away as she returned to speaking with the Bothan he took a few wandering steps in the direction of the ship that Tango was looking at. As his eyes fell on the davits and blemishes that dotted the aging ship an eyebrow quirked and he glanced back to the woman who appeared to be discussing prices with the dealer. The pair talked between themselves for a moment before moving over to get a better look at different things, at access panels and so on.

No account for taste... she has engines, she has light-drive. Good enough. In fact as he continued to look the ship over, his eyes catching on the fading word "Vesper" under her port-side bridge panel, his attitude was shifting more to the accepting side. Not Journey... his heart sank for a moment as he reflected... gotta move on. This'll do. Oh, he had no intent of simply replacing Journey but if he was going to work on a ship it was better if he liked it some.

”Come on then, no point in wasting our money here with such poor stock.”

Wait...

What? That snapped him out of his thoughts, head and eyes following her as she turned to leave. Odd decision to just step away from such a ship... Tango didn't get farther than Axle's shoulder...

"Wait!" Tango returned her attention to the dealerbothan. "I can assure you they don’t have any better stock than myself, Miss.”

In that moment Axle had his attention on the assassin. He barely caught a glimpse of a smile, the normally cold face cracking an honest smirk. Realization dawned on Axle and his eyes widened by a fraction. Breathing out he shifted his wings, shifting his stance to his other foot. Haggling... she like Vesper? Enough to buy... A foolish grin spread across his face. He realized and shook his head gently; this was not his ship. There was no reason to be getting excited, it would only increase the loss later. After a moment he was as neutral as... Whiskey.

He shuddered, a twinge running through his wings again. This time he was forced to reach one hand over his shoulder. He found the pain after a moment and rubbed, barely grimacing as the barb came away in his hand. Stars...

“I’m just sure that once you feel this ship start up, you’ll change your mind.”

Despite his own distraction he was quick to follow Tango, matching her pace and genuinely positive at the offer of seeing the interior of Vesper. As the bothan led the way into the belly of the derelict ship the young man flicked his wrist at the entrance, discarding the half-feather out of notice beneath the hulk of the ship. To Axle the change from the hot desert suns to shadow was a major relief, the air cleaner and sweeter from the lack of dust. A brief cough and blink and the darkness of the holds weren't so oppressive.

For a moment the group stood in the cool of the entry, each of them allowing the heat and dust to roll off in waves. The reprieve only lasted until the bothan decided to lead the way and soon the three of them were deep in the holds. The sensations invoked a multitude of memories within the young man, the smells of metal and plastic and rubber, the feet on metal walkways set his mind to wandering. His mind flooded with images, thoughts of other lives that he could hardly believed only happened a few months prior. Everything seemed so much different now. Even as they walked, however, Axle kept his sharp eyes to wandering in the corridors through which they passed. He couldn't see as well in the shadows but every now and then he picked out something that was out of repair, stripped, or dented. Just like...

”This will take a bit of cleaning…I have to say, I’m unimpressed.”

As Tango spoke they came to a bend in the short corridor, the bothan stepping over a spliced bundle of cables that sat across the walkway. Stooping to look closer Axle scoffed, running his fingers along the spliced conduits.

Cleaning isn't the half of it. Whoever did this patch spliced the primary power shunt into the induction grounding loop; ten, twenty percent power bleed easy. When did you last test the engines?

The bothan, who had made it a few more steps up the corridor paused and turned to look at Axle where he was crouched. The owner's eyes met the young man's an instantly averted, looking over to Tango before clearing his throat.

“A few months ago. Nearly sold her to a twi'lek who tried to pay using a sliced credit chip. Hutts didn't go easy on him for that...”

Evading the comment about the splice the owner turned and stepped away down the corridor once more. Axle, a small smirk on his face stood, nodded to Tango and followed, hoping that such a blatant error would support the woman's bid for a more reasonable price.

Another turn and several narrow stairs later and they arrived on the bridge. The vista of the used lot was impressive and light shone through dust clouded view ports, giving the bridge an amber glow that, strangely enough, highlighted the fairly sharp edges of the control console that seemed to etch a ring around them. A series of black readouts ran in a semicircle around the pair of command seats which were set into the deck each with a control stick directly before the seat. Axle marveled at the sight for, even though he knew a deal about ships and how they worked, a vista as beautiful as this and made even more poignant by the silence was one to be appreciated.

“Give me a moment and she'll be... roaring like new.”

Gingerly the Bothan climbed over the verge of the starboard command chair and slid to a seat in the cracking leather. Slowly and without intimacy he began throwing switches and punching commands on the single lit console. Looking around the bridge Axle smiled as the myriad of lights began to wink into existence like so many multicolor stars. After a moment the lights stopped appearing and he glanced back down to the chair to see the Bothan pressing a single button slowly and repeatedly, waiting a moment before pressing it again. Axle was about to step forward to offer assistance when the Vesper shuddered. A groan rose up from beneath them as the engines turned over once, twice and them ignited. However, the pulse was weak, the units threatening to give out as the owner rocked back and forth in the seat, trying to get it working by physical coercion. With another massive shudder the roar slowly built as the revolutions evened out. Outside silt was flying everywhere, the dusty ports quickly cleaned by the sudden typhoon of engine wash. Smiling Axle nodded at the confident pulse of the engines... no, twin engines that rang beneath them. Glancing at Tango he smiled, a smile that could only be interpretted as:

I like her.

The bothan, who had reclined in the chair after the engines started had finally extracted himself from the pilots seat and was, once again, standing before the Axle and Tango beaming with pride.

“Well? What do you think?”

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Axle’s half confused comment had gone unnoticed, mostly. Tango hadn’t known him long, but in the time she’d been around the man he hadn’t seemed dim-witted, so she trusted he would catch on. Catch on he did…as the grin gave him away. Foolish, she mused to herself, continuing her banter with the bothan. Axle had manage to hide that grin, however, and so things passed smoothly until they entered the ship.

Lavender eyes caught sight of the bundle of cables and she huffed her displeasure, nearly saying something, but Axle’s voice reached her ears before she could even begin. Good. He is sharp. As he paused, she paused, looking back at him evenly. ”I’m not the most trained expert, but I have to agree with him that it’s a poor job done. Any proper dealer would have fixed something such as this, or at least lowered the price on the vessel to compensate for time, energy, and money lost to the buyer while fixing it.” With a fold of her arms across her chest, she shook her head slightly. ”I shouldn’t have spoken prematurely about the cleanliness of the ship, since apparently there were more pressing issues to be concerned with.”

As she allowed Axle to pass by her, she nodded slightly to him for a job well done before following after him through the ship. Here and there were more, less critical, errors…a few panels missing that typically covered wires or switch plates mainly. As they reached the cockpit, she gazed around at the panels with a studious eye. The mechanical beauty of it was lost on her, but she functionality of it was not. From what her sharpened vision could tell, the controls would be simple to become accustom to, nothing seemed extraordinarily out of easy reach, nothing was chipped or cracked or broken…well, this was a good sign.

“Give me a moment and she’ll be…roaring like new.”

I don’t believe new ships should be roaring, bothan…roaring isn’t always a good sign. Tango only sighed slightly with her thoughts, and glanced over at Axle who seemed to be…well what was that look he was giving? It wasn’t just thoughtful, it wasn’t exactly happy, it wasn’t upset in any way…What is it that he’s thinking? That’s a very strange look he has. She’d seen it on people’s faces before, but never had a reason to ask, never had a desire to ask either…until now. She attempted to follow his gaze to see what he might be looking at, but it shifted slowly around the whole cabin, never landing on one thing for long. She frowned slightly.

That frown deepened when she noted the systems slowly sparking to life but no sound from the engines. Looking back to the bothan, she shook her head. This really wouldn’t do…like the ship or not, she needed it to start. There just wasn’t money enough to replace the engines. A twitch of Axle’s muscles and she nearly stopped him from moving to assist. She needn’t have bothered. With a shudder and a groan the Vesper slowly started to come to life once again.

Lavender eyes narrowed slightly as she felt its desire to give out and fall back into dormancy. The Bothan was looking rather fidgety as he rocked in the seat, earning a lift of one brown brow before it settled back down and furrowed slightly. The revolutions of the engines were kicking up again and slowly…very slowly…evening out. Nodding first to herself, then (upon catching Axle’s glance and smile) nodded to her unlikely companion. Yes, she liked the ship too…now to seal the deal.

Finally the bothan had gotten up to face them once more, grinning from ear to ear. “Well? What do you think?”

”I think that it would be a poor choice. You stated you had started the engines a month ago, yet they’re so resistant to starting once more? I can’t afford to take risks on potentially faulty engines. Then there’s the splice job my companion mentioned earlier that would have to be fixed. That’s more time, effort and money lost….all things that could be better spent on things such as work, cleaning her off, and restocking. I have no doubt that she would be a good ship, but at the price you’re asking, you couldn’t get any sane person to buy her because they’d have to put more money into fixing her when they could have just bought something better elsewhere.”

With that said, she nodded to the bothan slightly. ”Thank you for your time, but the deal is simply one we cannot take.” With that she turned once more to go.

For those few moments the bothan blinked at her, stunned, his jaw slacking slightly when she thanked him and started to head off. Problem was, her mental ninjary was working….what if no one would buy it at the price he was asking. He’d had the ship for a while now and while people looked at it, they always passed in the end. The man seemed to like it, at least…maybe he was the key to convincing the woman? “Wait, Miss, sir…one moment, please. Sir, I can tell you like this ship, and it’s true, she needs some work, but I can assure you that you won’t find better. I remember you saying you’d work on her to fix her up…tell your lady friend that these engines are solid.” He’d motion to the controls and readouts so Axle could see, moving aside slightly.

“See for yourself. Of course they had a bit of a difficult startup, but this is a month we’re talking about…the sand and dust in them isn’t easy to clean out and while we do our best, it can choke them sometimes. They’re perfectly good, believe me.”

[Latus]

He had almost not expected the answer Tango had shot the man. Not to read deeper into her actions was foolish, however. If she had not been interested whatsoever in this ship she would not have even bothered looking at the inside at all. Taking a chance on what he thought was her intent, he simple stood, continuing to admire the interior of the bridge/cockpit with a critical eye, seeing if he could spot anything else that was specifically wrong, things he would have to fix if they bought her. His eyes caught on a few more minor things as Tango finally finished her scathing remark.

”Thank you for your time, but the deal is simply one we cannot take.”

Nodding to the bothan as a form of farewell he turned with Tango and was about to step from the platform back into the hallways when, lo and behold, the Bothan piped up to stop them. Subtly, Axle smiled, turning back to look at the man, his face as passive as what he imagined Whiskeys looked like all the time.

How? How does she do it?

“Wait, Miss, sir…one moment, please. Sir, I can tell you like this ship, and it’s true, she needs some work, but I can assure you that you won’t find better. I remember you saying you’d work on her to fix her up…tell your lady friend that these engines are solid.”

Sighing deeply Axle stepped back onto the bridge, leaving Tango in the hall as he gave the bothan a skeptical smirk. He motioned towards the controls and Axle stepped forward, eyes examining the readouts of the variety of different systems. From what he saw the engines seemed to be keeping steady, fuel flows good, connections and power couplings stable. His gaze did see something, though, a waver in the second engine's turbine output. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“See for yourself. Of course they had a bit of a difficult startup, but this is a month we’re talking about…the sand and dust in them isn’t easy to clean out and while we do our best, it can choke them sometimes. They’re perfectly good, believe me.”

Axle shook his head and turned to the bothan.

It isn't as simple as you think, friend. If she didn't like it so much I would turn it down myself over that faulty splice. You have obviously not taken sufficient care of it to warrant a proper price and thats why she is walking away right now.

I will certainly agree that this ship needs work, a lot of it but did you consider that it would be me doing these repairs? Look here!

Axle said, pausing to step down to gesture at the console showing the engine readouts. It only took a moment before the anomaly showed itself again, a brief spike in output followed by a long decrease in overall power.

Probably a faulty power converter. If that popped up in the last month you have more problems with this ship than you are admitting. Standing and adjusting his jacket Axle stepped back onto the platform before nodding to him again.

Want my advice? Either accept her offer, which is more than I'd pay for this heap, or let her take her credits somewhere else. Good day, sir.

Stepping off and away from the cockpit he made his way out into the hall, following Tango. He hoped that his bargaining was not too aggressive as he breathed heavily to keep his pulse from racing as he caught up with Tango. It felt good to be inside a pile of scrap like this again and though it wasn't theirs -yet- it certainly made him feel right at home.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

For a long moment Tango herself wasn’t certain how to feel about the situation. She certainly felt…something…but what? She almost felt as if she was doing something…wrong…by haggling the Bothan down for this piece of space junk. On the other hand, it was just that…a piece of space junk. Well, comparatively speaking it was. The woman was used to piloting the quality crafts supplied by the GM facility, and after that everything else did seem low quality in comparison…especially a heap like this. There was just something about this ship that made her pause long enough to give it serious consideration and use those persuasive skills they’d taught assassins A-Z during their extended training to negotiate the price down to something more reasonable.

…and more in her price range.

As Axle took the lead, talking to the man who was trying so desperately to be rid of the ship, she wondered why it hadn’t been taken before…even with the poor splicing. Was there something else that needed fixing? As she mused over this, she caught bits of what Axle was saying, the Bothan becoming more and more silent. She wasn’t certain if that was a good sign or not. Nodding slightly to her companion (temporary or not), the quiet assassin waited a few moments for the Bothan to make up his mind, her serape covered form shifting as she folded her arms beneath it. It was obvious the man was considering the situation, his ears flicking slightly as he too folded his arms and watched the various readouts quietly.

”Well?”

The dealer looked up at them once more and she could see in his eyes that he knew he was beaten. She’d seen it for quite some time, but he was stubbornly remaining silent. Likely attempting to reason himself out of having to accept the price, she mused.

”None of us have all day, and my patience is growing thin…” It wasn’t a lie. ”You have three, very simple, options. 1) You accept the offer and we take the ship off your hands. 2) You decline the offer and we take our business elsewhere….or 3) You continue to attempt to haggle with us, I ask to test the ship in flight and we see just how many problems I can find in one of my realms of expertise…and believe me, you don’t want that.”

The woman actually managed a smirk at that thought, one hand lifting to show the several daggers and small knives stashed along her belt and the heavy slug pistol strapped to her upper thigh as she pulled some of those unruly curls away from her face. ”Believe me, I’m doing you a favor by not asking to do just that.” As that hand fell again, she’d rest it casually on the grip of Victor’s pistol, the sensation oddly…reassuring. She certainly hadn’t meant it to be a threatening gesture, but the Bothan seemed to take it as one…

“N-no need to be too hasty, Miss. I was just watching the readouts your friend here had pointed out.”

Blinking, lavender eyes flickered over to Axle, suddenly uncertain of what this man was talking about and why he suddenly seemed so on edge. Upon looking back to the man she lifted an eyebrow as she attempted to hide the full extent of her confusion. ”Well then I suggest you make your choice, sir.” Removing her hand from the pistol, she folded her arms once more and looked at him evenly, if not a bit coldly. The relief the man seemed to show had her swiftly putting two and two together…an interesting reaction for such a simple movement. His sigh this time around was a mixture of relief and defeat.

“Alright…come on then and let’s fill out the paperwork. She isn’t doing anyone any good by sitting around here and I hate to see a good ship left to corrode in the sand like this.”

Huffing and muttering to himself in his native tongue, he would half usher, half shoo them out of the Vesper and back toward his office. As they exited Tango allowed the dealer to take the lead, her pace slowing just enough to walk beside Axle. For a long moment she was quiet, attempting to think of how to best say what she wished to say. Finally, when she did speak, her voice was quiet enough for the Bothan stalking along in front of them to not hear her clearly over the few conversations going on around the small lot.

”Your assistance in this is greatly appreciated, Axle…though I am…surprised…to not only see you again, but to have that assistance.”

[Latus]

”Well? None of us have all day, and my patience is growing thin…”

When he finally turned back toward the dealer Axle's expression had turned darker, matching the dusky interior of the cabin and the tone that his “partner” had taken on. He was sick of this runaround and almost questioned the previous inclination of joy he received with this particular ship. If they paid too much there would not be enough for parts for him to get her working at optimal efficiency and they would be going nowhere fast; obviously Axle did not want that to happen. So when Tango finally gave her ultimatum all he could do is lean against the bulkhead and cross his arms, hoping that the dealer would do the right thing. Even understanding some of the intricacies of starship sales and the need to turn a profit did not sweeten his outlook toward the owner.

The movement of Tango's hands to her pistols instantly had him on edge but he managed not to show this visibly, merely hardening his eyes and tightening his muscles. Where he stood the young man shifted his wings against the inside of his jacket while simultaneously placing his free hand on the head of the massive pipe-torgue wrench clipped on his belt. It was certainly not as intimidating as a true weapon but the effect was the same as if he had placed his hand on a short vibrosword.

”Believe me, I’m doing you a favor by not asking to do just that.”

There was nothing more that needed to be said. Tango had laid it on the line and either the credit pinching bothan was going to take the offer after all or it was time to move on. What cards they had at the moment lay on the table and it was certainly a strong hand.

“N-no need to be too hasty, Miss. I was just watching the readouts your friend here had pointed out.”

”Well then I suggest you make your choice, sir.”

When the dealer turned back toward the console Axle's eyes followed, looking for the tell-tale sign of the reading spike that he had observed earlier. Sure enough he saw it, felt it as well as the revolutions of the turbines hitched in a nearly imperceptible instant. Sighing he wondered, once again, what else this heap had wrong with it. Oh well. Half the fun.

“Alright…come on then and let’s fill out the paperwork.”

At the comment Axle merely nodded, the rise of winning this particular barter building gradually within his chest. The bothan, who was not looking particularly thrilled with the development passed the pair by, muttering something that sounded to Axle like some form of curse within the native bothan tongue. Gesturing for Tango to lead he fell in behind the pair of them, eyes scanning over the walls that he would soon call home, if only temporarily. It took him a moment to notice that Tango had held back, walking beside him and looking slightly perplexed. He intentionally paid little mind and continued to inspect the walls.

”Your assistance in this is greatly appreciated, Axle…though I am…surprised…to not only see you again, but to have that assistance.”

Something that benefits you in this situation also benefits me. I need to get off this dust ball of a planet just as much as you do and I figured the most effective way would be to work together. Even if it is simply in bartering; I would not have paid a credit more for this ship.

Axle glanced at her and quirked a spry smile and his voice was just as low as hers. Despite his reservations in dealing with her that little interaction was what he might call fun. Get him working on the engines, he thought, and he could have all the “fun” he could want. As they finally came to the exit of the Vesper he paused at the door, subtly brushing Tango's arm to get her attention.

Take care of the paperwork and I'll take a closer look. We can take off any time, methinks, but if you don't want a catastrophic fuel leak half way I suggest we take a look at some spare and replacement parts.

Axle was only half joking.

As she walked away from him and their new home he had the brief desire to sprint back to the cockpit and take off, leaving Tango in the dust (literally). But, taking a deep breath, he quieted that instinct and instead reached to his belt, withdrawing the meter or so long implement of repair. Slinging it over his shoulder he turned and stepped back into the shadowy holds of the aging ship.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

As they walked, Axle’s words had the lithe assassin nodding, if only just slightly. His smile, however, had her tilting her head at him just slightly. Why in the world was he smiling about a ship that would take so much repair? Also, if they were only working together because each person needed a way off planet, why would he smile at her? It didn’t seem like something to smile at, but perhaps he was simply happy to have a way off Tattooine? She truly couldn’t guess…or at least, she couldn’t guess that it was because he’d had fun with the haggling process. To her it was just a means to an end; certainly it was nothing to smile at.

A light brush to her arm at the door of the Vesper had her tensing subtly before she immediately realized it had been Axle trying to get her attention. Pausing just a step ahead of him, she’d turn and look at him, watching closely through lavender eyes as he spoke. At least this man had some sense. He was no Victor, no Whiskey, or Delta, or Alpha…but he had some decent sense. The only trouble was, would he run? So far he had shown some proclivity for trying to work alone, or outright escape (from what she could gather of the Whiskey/Axle situation)…he’d even tried to run from her before, when they’d first met, and when they’d gotten here he’d left immediately for his own ship. Only now was he willingly trying to work with her, and only because of the ship. Could she truly trust him not to run off with it as she went with the owner?

For a long moment she simply looked at him, regarding him quietly as if measuring him up. Well, that wouldn’t have been too far from the truth, honestly. The Bothan behind her started to say something, but she cut him off by holding up one hand and giving him a stern glance. Looking back to Axle she would nod just slightly. ”Alright, and I agree with the parts…but I would like there to be a ship here for which I need to buy parts to when I return.” Her words were just loud enough for him to hear, but the meaning was clear enough at the end: ‘You had better not run off with this ship before I get back.’ It wasn’t a threat, per say, but she would certainly not be happy about him leaving her behind, RELIC or not, and Tango had no qualms in ‘reclaiming’ her ship from him in ways he wouldn’t like if she had to.

Turning, she’d follow the Bothan owner into the shade and relative cool of the dealership interior. The process of the paperwork was…uncomfortable and tedious. She’d had to do some modifications to one of her forged IDs (every assassin had at least one) in her travels just in case the need ever arose to use it, but for all of her experience and ability, for as confident as she had been that it was done well enough to not raise suspicion from most, for some reason she felt…anxious. Would the Meadows be able to track her somehow with this card? Would the Bothan man realize it had been forged? Would something come up that wasn’t expected? She’d been as careful as she could be but she wasn’t “the expert” from GM. I should get a new one somewhere…one that wasn’t a Green Meadows created one. There may be something on it to track me.

It wasn’t paranoia…it was a precaution.

Her immediate worries were, thankfully, unfounded, and while the paperwork was tedious…the sum for the ship still sizeable…there was little more hurt than her pocketbook and the bothan’s pride. So, with a data chip of codes, schematics, and data on the ship, as well as several flimsies of ownership, Tango took her leave of the man with little more than a ‘thank you’ and headed back to the Vesper, which (she was pleased to see), was still settled exactly where it had been previously. With a nod, she stepped up the ramp and cycled it closed, walking through the ship quietly in search of Axle.

[Latus]

Despite a brief comment that seemed to mimic his own thoughts, Axle's departure from Tango and the Bothan was one that could only be described as extreme relief. He'd never liked the simple folk, the sheep, that were simply content with going about their day to days without aspiring to be anything more than a paycheck on legs. Tango, on the other hand, was someone who intrigued him greatly. Axle wondered if his own luck was increasing, finding someone with potential connections to his own unusual background, his liberation only two years previous. The data he had memorized during his own escape was slowly falling into place, the assassins providing the latest puzzle piece. Turning right from the main egress hatch toward the port engine compartment his stride slowed to accommodate a few more moments of thought. The references he had seen in the documentation were more than fleeting and that these Green Meadow assassins, these altered people, came after them made it a certainty.

Green Meadows and Rock Creek were connected somehow. Maybe they were one and the same, maybe they were... Oh frell. I'm gonna kill that Bothan.

His train of thought was very rudely interrupted as he had pushed open the small hatch to the port side engine compartment on the Vesper; the place was an absolute wreck. Covers to critical systems looked to have been neglectfully left open for some time. Dust and grime covered everything and he could easily see several coolant hoses that had begun to crack in the ultra-dry weather. Bits and pieces of half dismantled systems were strewn everywhere... and he saw why there was a massive power loss in the HUD display.

Half of this gorram trans juncture is missing! We'd be lucky to get half a frellin' parsec...

Huffing in irritation he looks back down the hall he just walked through, wondering if he could get to Tango in time to rescind the offer of purchase. Groaning he stopped himself from doing anything rash, reminding himself that he had, essentially, a free ride out of the Outer Rim. Turning back to the disassembled system he gave a lopsided scowl and, sitting his implement down, pulled off his jacket. Taking a deep breath he extended both wings out and away from his body, the heat radiating from them quickly replaced by the relative cool of the dry interior air. Breathing slowly he stretched and released the muscles, twisting them foreword and back, up and down in the limited space until all the kinks were worked out. Drawing both in loosely against his back and above the special overshirt he nodded, convinced that he was ready to get to work. Picking up the massive torque wrench in one hand he drew a small hydrospanner with the other and stepped up to the juncture housing, kneeling before it.

Get this done then see about those coolant hoses... if not the whole system. Frell...

---

Reassembly of the juncture took relatively little time to complete. All of the parts were there, in fine enough order thankfully, but anything as dismantled as this would take time to put back together again. This hands were covered in engine grease and dust but still he worked on. Sweat beaded on his face and rolled unhindered down his chin before dropping silently onto the floor. Every now and again there would be a clank or a clatter as something slipped from his grasp or fell into place but the young man was deathly silent. He was deep in concentration that would not break until his current project was-

There. Finished. Axle smiled, setting back on his haunches as eyes swam over the different connections before him. Pleased with the simple reassembly he closed the panel and stood, wingtips brushing the ground as he rose to his feet. Leaning on the torque wrench he sighed and looked over the engine room again. As his mind sprang to activity from such deep concentration he nodded ever again, glad that this particular job should fix most of the power problems in this engine... Better check the other one. Sighing he shouldered the wrench again he scratched the back of his head and moved into the gangway on his way to the starboard engine. He disliked this particular type of vehicle; a single compact engine was much easier to work on.

A minor shudder reverberated through his legs but he paid it little mind, so lost in thought was he. Similarly technical thoughts passed through his mind as he came to the main intersection within the ship. As he stepped into it he caught himself before he ran smack into, who else, Tango. He realized the shudder was the main entry as he composed himself from the light surprise and nodded at her. A concern he had noticed surfaced on his psyche and he piped up.

I, uh... found the energy loss in the port engine and repaired it. After the other one is given the once over we should be able to move. I'd spent some time in town here and the shop doesn't have galactic standards for this type of vessel. We'll need to head to a larger settlement for those... and, as I suppose you are the owner you can take us wherever.

Excusing himself he stepped past her and walked quickly up the hall, mind refilling with stabilizer bearing specifics and other technical data.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

With a purpose, she moved through the Vesper, looking for Axle as she unzipped her jacket beneath that well used serape to try and bleed off some heat. She didn’t enjoy this planet and wanted to get off of it. Dry and dusty weren’t conducive to being productive…it only made her feel sluggish and uncomfortable, two things she did not want to be. In an effort to rid herself of more heat, she paused and pulled off her rucksack, settling it against her leg as she lifted the serape from over her head and shoulders. As the canvas drape came off, she immediately felt some relief from the heat that had been building up.

Folding the thing, she felt approaching footsteps through her boots before she heard them. As Axle came into sight from the other passage, she found the surprise on his face to be odd. It wasn’t as if she’d been hiding…quite the opposite, she was standing in the middle of everything in plain sight. As he spoke, she draped the partially folded serape over one shoulder and settled her hands on her hips as she listened intently. Nodding once to him, she allowed him to walk off as she picked up her pack and headed to one of the rooms, opening the door and looking the place over.

Grit, dust, some superficial damage…well…with work will come pay, with pay will come money needed to fix everything, small and large. Moving into the room, she settled her pack on the bed and her serape over it. Pulling off her coat and draping it over all, she turned and went to find Axle once again. With only her beige tank top left to hold in heat, Tango was about as comfortable as she could get on this planet. She certainly seemed to fit the populace, though, with her tanned skin, dark hair and lean form that did it. If someone had slapped some armor on her she might have actually looked mando…put some of the local clothing on her instead and she’d have fit right in…but for now she didn’t need (or have) either. She looked, in simple terms, like a mercenary…gun at her hip, barely visible scars dotting her skin here and there, bristling with knives and with a no-nonsense air about her.

Pausing in the doorway to the second engine room she pulled back her hair and tied it up off her neck and out of her eyes. ”Alright, what do we have left to do before we can get off the ground, what do we need to do to get out of the system, what parts need replacing to do both and where do you suggest we acquire them?”

[Latus]

As the door to the second engine room creaked open Axle exhaled a small sigh of relief as he beheld a much more organized technical access point. While the dust still lingered over every surface there were no half-assembled systems, no part-strewn deck, no obviously damaged or neglected systems in sight. Tossing his jacket over the guard railing that stood a few feet over the true engine access point and setting the torgue wrench against it he began his preliminary inspection. As he proceeded onward, lifting access panels and testing connections, he found that his observations when he entered were much closer to the truth than he realized. It looked as though someone, perhaps the owner, had done some recent work on the systems including the fluid hoses which looked much less worn than those in the other engine.

Stepping down into the engine pit he continued to nod in satisfaction, glad that this particular engine still appeared efficient. So, the shyster was keeping her up... if only barely. As he pressed himself between the banks of metallic systems something caught his eye as he swept the lines of hoses and connecting feeds, the hyperdrive core for this sublight. His pin-point eyes spied the corrosion in the fuse bank from several meters away. Always something. Shaking his head he moved to address the hyperdrive core properly, kneeling down beside the fuse box as his hands slid over the missing access hatch.

Well that's new.

The core looked to be old, very old indeed. While he did know the manufacturer he did not recognize the production model number or if it even ran ascending numerically. Not something good to be unsure of. His fingers traced the model number, as if physical contact would improve his understanding.FT-G_12001... last FT-G seen was 45XXX. This thing, least three generations out of production. Wonder if other o- His thoughts were interrupted by a small sound of rubber on metal and the voice of Tango from above. Stopping he twisted, looked back up at her.

“...what do we have left to do before we can get off the ground, what do we need to do to get out of the system, what parts need replacing to do both and where do you suggest we acquire them?”

My concern about power levels or fuel consumption knitted itself when I put the trans juncture on the other engine back together. Other than a few efficiency things... He said, turning on his heels to look at her more properly. She seems spaceworthy, mechanically, and I saw the fuel gauge was full earlier on the bridge. You could take off right now and we could get as far as the Mid Rim without needing to refuel. Any farther than that and... well.

He stopped, running a finger over the corrosion and wear to a system he knew very little about technically before letting his hand fall, standing to look at her directly. Axle knew he could strip and fit hyperdrives, knew what to look for in terms of wear and tear, but internal corrosion of a FTL drive was something completely new to him aside from heresay. He couldn't fix internal corrosion and had heard older spacers describe the effects and tell horror stories about shattered cores... that was something he knew he couldn't afford.

Tango, if the other side looks as bad as this one, she will need a new hyperdrive. In a bad way, too. I don't know how many light-years she has left but this one will need to come out and soon. This is an outdated military unit, corroding, rusting apart from the inside. I don't like riding on borrowed time and that is what these are.

Ducking back down he crouched his way out of the engine access before stepping back onto the main deck. Stepping over to his jacket and massive torque wrench he retrieved them, slinging the latter over his shoulder before looking at her.

And I doubt we will be able to get a drive like this on Tattooine. Get closer to the core, the chances will go up exponentially on any starsystem with a standing military of any kind. I don't like the risk but it is necessary. It's your choice, Captain.

Sighing he couldn't do more than just stand there, looking helpless. He was good at the mechanical aspects of ships and ship repair but there were some things that even he was unable to fix. His mind returned to the other parts of the ship that needed to be addressed as he waited for something, anything from Tango. Either way, if she talked or not, he would step around her when she finished; there was still a lot that could be done to that ship even when it was active and running.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

The only thing she could really do was watch him and listen as he spoke. It was good, at least, that they could take off and get to the mid-rim but the end of his first comment said that there was obviously more to mention that he hadn’t yet. Likely news she wouldn’t be pleased to hear. Lavender eyes watched evenly as he ran his finger over some obvious damage to one of the twin hyperdrive systems. She may not have been an expert mechanic, but she doubted there was a person in the galaxy (beside some of the youngest children) who wouldn’t understand that how that looked was not good. I’m fairly certain even those without knowledge of hyperspace technology would understand there is something wrong there. Folding her arms across her chest, she lifted a brow at him as he stood and looked back at her fully, her brow furrowing just slightly as he spoke again.

“…I don’t know how many light-years she has left but this one will need to come out, and soon.”

So that was the bad news.

Sighing softly, the liberated assassin only half listened to the rest of Axle’s words as he moved around to gather his coat and wrench. Her thoughts were on more important things. Already she had guessed that this wasn’t something they’d be able to find easily (or cheaply) on this sandy ball of nothingness, so she was swiftly rifling her memory for planets close by that might have something they needed. The trouble with going to someplace that had a standing military was…well, quite honestly it was herself. If Victor could find her through the degrading RELIC signal, than others would be able to as well…if they were anywhere as clever at him, anyway. That put the odds in her favor, but she couldn’t dismiss the possibility, it would have been foolish to do so.

One finger tapped lightly against her arm as she focused on a point on the wall near Axle’s shoulder while she thought. Finally, after a long moment, she nodded, fairly certain of where their destination would be…and if it seemed as if it would be too far, she had a back up. ”Alright. I believe I may have some options for us…one being far more palatable than the other, as well as here in the outer rim. If Morion isn’t too far, we’ll head there. They have a full standing military and are not yet aligned with the Republic. It would be safest to go there for work and parts, but if it is too far we can always go to Naboo. It would be more dangerous for us, but…” Shaking her head a bit, she’d turn and start toward the cockpit.

”I’ll get us into orbit and see what I come up with.”

With that said and done, she made her way through the ship to the fore and settled herself into the pilot’s seat. Bringing up the initial power she took her time in checking the computational systems and readouts as the Vesper came to life around her. Luckily for them both, the consol was quite similar to one of the ship models Green Meadows used, allowing her to get a decent feel for the ship fairly swiftly. Still, there were differences…and work that she knew just by a look that would need to be done. I should have seen it sooner…if I had…still, if we can get this ship operational and better outfitted, it will be a good craft.

With only a single press of the ignition the engines burst to life with a wave of heat and dust…not so much as a cough this time around. Nodding to herself she watched the power readout, searching for the anomaly Axle had pointed out earlier. She’d made a note of what it looked like at the time, but fortunately it didn’t crop up again. Good. Firing the primary lift thrusters, the Vesper slowly lifted from the ground, the engines rotating gently with a motion of her right hand and a lever to angle toward the ground as the struts lifted and locked into the body of the ship. Pushing the vertical thruster output up to 70…then 80…90…then full power, the ship floated smoothly upward to rise above the walls of the dealership. Clipping herself in, Tango flicked the switch to the intercom (once she found it again), and powered up the shields.

”Exiting atmosphere.”

That was Tango-lingo for ‘strap in and hold on.’

Clicking the com off once more, she cycled the power back from the thrusters to the main engines and the ship shot toward the sky with the force their angle exerted against the ground and a gentle pull on the controls. Unexpectedly the adrenaline hit her through the tattered barriers of the RELIC’s control, her heart rate jumping as she shifted the engines back into their normal position. The poor woman didn’t understand what it was that had gripped her so suddenly…it wasn’t exactly fear, and it wasn’t exactly euphoria, but it was certainly strong and pulled a grin onto her face as the sky around them changed from light blue to dark, to black and stars, the turbulence from the air and the light tug against the controls from breaking atmosphere…the millisecond of feeling almost weightless before the artificial gravity kicked in…by the end of it she felt almost giddy.

It was troubling…confusing…new…

Concerned, she set the craft into orbit and sat back trying to make sense of what she’d felt from a medical standpoint. The only thing she could think of was epinephrine…adrenaline…but that certainly didn’t help explain more than the mechanics, effects (which she could feel quite plainly) and any number of possible causes. She “understood”…but she didn’t understand, and to her that was a problem.

[Latus]

Her voice was lower, controlled as Axle stood patiently while she spoke. Of the two options she presented to him he certainly noticed the merit of both though immediately his own opinion turned toward bias against the latter planet. Morion did indeed have a standing military, likely some good work for them and the hyperdrive components that he needed to update both cores on the Vesper. If they could get a better deal he may even be able to squeeze a few hundred extra kilometers per second from the aging engines.

Naboo on the other hand was more definitely a Republic world, one that he had visited in the past with nearly disastrous results. The planetary authorities had intercepted him on his approach to break atmo, telling him to power down the engines and stand down to be boarded. While Axle did nothing of the sort, jumping away on a backup vector he had programmed, he had to spend several weeks in sublight transit closer to the nearest star system, Umgul, when Journey's hyperdrive ran out of fuel. In that regard, Naboo did not bring back and pleasant memories and he shook his head at her when she said something.

Morion, if you can. Its closer and probably has everything I would need for repairs if not upgrades.

Other than that Axle said nothing, nodding when she said that she was going to take them out of atmosphere and get under way. Letting her go first he followed her down the gangway until she broke off toward the bridge before he stepped down the opposite hall toward the other engine. He wanted to see if that hyperdrive had the same corrosion that the first exhibited before moving up toward the flight berths.

---

The engines had kicked in with nothing less than a bone shaking roar as Axle climbed out of the compartment, closing the massive hatch behind him. Taking to his heels he made his way back up the gangway to the primary hall and back toward the crew compartments at a brisk walk. His concerns had indeed been founded indeed as he had found the other hyperdrive also showing significant corrosion to interior components. That, however, did not change a thing. Vesper would fly and he hoped that she would take him away from the sordid dustball with all speed if she could. He was sick of the dust and the grit, the heat and the suns. As he felt the inertial dampers kick in he slipped his wings slightly out from his jacket to balance himself as he finally made the verge of the crew living area. Stepping quickly he strapped himself into one of the padded couches and breathed in relief and joy as the repressed feeling of take-off washed through him, his wings spreading to flop over the padded surface. He had always liked takeoff and though the Vesper didn't have the limited inertial dampers as the Journey did she still gave him a wonderful feeling of freedom. Axle barely heard Tango's voice spring over the intercom as he closed his eyes and leaned back.

”Exiting atmosphere.”

---

Soon the duo were sailing through the void of space, the Vesper's twin engines humming rhythmically beneath them. Axle allowed himself to rest for several minutes after breaching atmo before unbuckling and standing, pulling his wings in comfortably. Snagging the massive torgue wrench from the floowr he placed it over his shoulder and moved toward the bridge, light shoes making little noise on the hard metallic floor. As he crossed the verge, looking at Tango seated in the primary pilot seat he smiled, looking past her to the void and pinpoints of stars beyond.

Love being out here...

Tango. He would wait until she turned around. I am going to go see about righting that power splice in the fore berths, could you bring down power on that section? He, of course, waited until she had done so before turning away toward the section, pausing when he remembered something. Also, feel free to come down and observe since she will be your ship alone before too long.

Not hesitating for an answer to the second comment he turned, knowing that most of the work he still had to do was more in the way of cosmetic or very low percentage increase jobs. That didn't bother him at all, however, for as long as he was doing something with his hands, even in the company of Tango, he was significantly happier.