Another Rainy Night

[Meira]

Turning a knob, she leaned down over the sink as water shot out from the faucet. With both hands, she cupped water and splashed it over her face. She then rubbed those hands against the skin of her cheeks and over her eyes with a light pressure. She'd gotten little sleep over the past several days and it was beginning to wear on her. It wasn't anything like the illness that was beginning to run rampant on Nar Shaddaa, however. Not like whatever had come over Tomasso the other day. It was mostly her own unwillingness to sleep. She'd been having strange dreams lately. She was also just incredibly stoked at her new powers. It was like she had some kind of fire pumping through her now, an energy that she couldn't help but let out. After they'd escaped from that Hutt ambush at the laundromat, Ylva had been obsessed with trying to understand how it all worked. Thel was busy, however, with all the chaos going on. So she'd had to figure things out on her own.

She was starting to make great progress with the physical aspect of the power. She had little finesse, but Ylva could muscle giant objects into the air and move them around. She'd shown this off to Remy and some of the other Jolly Janitors back at their headquarters behind Lidah's casino, to their great amazement. But she'd kept very thight lipped about it beyond her trusted crew. The other part of it, however, she seemed to have no control over at all. The... song, would come to her. Sometimes it would overwhelm her, knocking her to her knees and driving out any other sensations. Sometimes she would go whole days without hearing it. It most often came to her in her sleep, however. It was such a confusing, cacophonous thing. Yet it also seemed to have some strange, complex sense to it... just beyond her reach. There was something about the song that she did not -could not- understand. But she was drawn to it. She needed it.

Ylva turned the water off and dried her face with a towel. Looking in the mirror, she tried to remember the song, but it was like trying to grasp a dream. It just wasn't quite there in her mind. With a sigh, Ylva turned and left the refresher, moving her way along the Lathspell's corridor toward the main cabin area. Hutt space was in turmoil, with some strange invading species now fully in control of the leisure planet Teth. It was hard to understand much more than that, as the stories carried by survivors and such were so wild and often conflicting. Ylva had also been mostly preoccupied with her own issues to pay too close attention to Hutt business. As far as she was concerned, the slugs deserved whatever they were getting. But that didn't mean to common folk deserved to too.

Refugees were flooding out of Hutt space, and with her new mid-sized Freighter, Ylva had seen an opportunity to profit from the Hutts' plight. So the Jolly Giant had joined with a number of other freighter ships in a caravan bound for a refugee settlement on Bothawui. The Jolly Giant, the largest of the freighters in this group, carried the large bulk supplies. Her belly was full of giant crates of non-perishable food rations, the parts to shelters that could be assembled quickly, and other large items. Two of the other ships were provided by some paramilitary group that called itself Legion. Those carried more supplies, as well as a number of refugees bound for the settlements. The last ship, The Lathspell, was laden full of medical supplies. The caravan was met in orbit Jayec's ship and crew, as well as a corvette and two patrol ships which were also provided by Legion.

Ylva had started the journey aboard the Jolly Giant with Remy and several other Jolly Janitors, but had come over to the Lathspell just before the whole company of ships made the jump to lightspeed toward Bothawui. As this was a joint venture, of sorts, it had been agreed that it would be easier for the several heads of operations to be together on one ship. The Jolly Giant, as an Exchange affiliated ship, would not do. Nor would the Legion corvette. Jayec's vessel was too small to house them and his crew, and was itself an Exchange affiliated ship. That left the Lathspell, which belonged to the sole independently affiliated entity among them. Willam had accepted them kindly onto his homely ship and the caravan made their jump to lightspeed shortly after.

Soon, they'd be arriving in Bothawui space, and thus the group would need to convene to discuss the next phase of the trip. With all the chaos surrounding the events on Teth, and the paranoia springing up, Bothawui was hesitant to simply let the caravan arrive too close to the world. They'd demanded that the caravan exit hyperspace some distance away, so as to allow ample time for scanning of the ships to take place and for them to determine that it was safe to allow the ships to land. It was stupid, in Ylva's eyes. No one knew what to scan for, or even what they'd do if the scans picked something up. But she wouldn't get paid if she didn't play the game, so they'd stop far out as instructed and then come into the planet slowly. This policy, however, had drawn the attention of pirates, and there'd been reports of attacks on other supply caravans. That was why Jayec's crew had been brought along, and why they'd accepted the added protection of the paramilitary group.

Arriving at the main cabin first, she moved toward a machine that brewed caf and set it to warming up. While she waited, she glanced around to be sure she was along and then turned her attention toward a mug on the counter. Concentrating, she focused on the mug, trying to lift it with her mind. Her efforts had been turned toward tasks like this of late, as she tried to add more finesse into her newfound power. But the mug didn't even move. She sighed. She hadn't had much opportunity to practice since they'd left on this caravan run, but Ylva felt as if she was losing power. It was like it was slowly fading away. The fire was still there, but it felt far away.

[Blue]

The time following the disastrous events on Edgepoint Station had been... somewhat tense for the captain. But when hours turned to days, Willam had been convinced that whatever affliction had turned the residents of that space station into a mass of angry flesh and that... whatever that had attacked them had not been transferred onto himself. Odd had maintained a careful watch on his vitals and noted that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, besides the obvious increase in blood pressure from the anxiety of waiting to die. Which was really nothing new, considering his occupation. With relief flooding his being, Willam finally rejoined society and lived by way of drinking, eating and enjoying some most agreeable company at the first world that could offer all three. An addition to his armory was also required; that mission had made it clear he needed something capable of a much higher fire rate. As such, the new rifle he had bought with the advance payment of that ill-fated job was currently hanging in his quarters in the company of Odd. The little hoverdroid had been confined to the room the moment their guests were due to arrive. After all, it simply would not do to allow the cantankerous robot free reign to attempt its hand at pick-pocketing on their new passengers. Again. That was just rude. Odd also has a loooong way to go in doing it efficiently and it would be the height of embarrassment for it to get caught with it's clamps on someone elses credits. And so, dangerously out of pocket, Willam had scoured the HoloNet for some work and stumbled upon a relief mission. For people escaping Hutt Space. Where Teth was. If it had not been for Odd pointing out the payment, Willam would have turned his ship around and flown the furthest he could away from Hutt Space with all speed. But as it was, he needed the money. Besides, it's only transporting cargo, and there are going to be plenty of other, far larger ships to do any actual fighting. Surely it won't be that bad? The galaxy OWES me an easy job. Arriving at the designated area, he had been less than pleased to be called upon to house the big wigs from the other organisations involved in the caravan. A couple of mercenary groups of some sort or other, which he probably should have paid more attention to. Alas, his attention had been irrevocably diverted towards the head of Jolly Janitors. His pondering upon the reason for a sanitation company from Nar Shaddaa transporting supplies was swiftly cut short when he took note of Ylva. As such, his announcement that it would be an absolute delight to play host to these powerful people had only been slightly exaggerated. After making sure that anything of value (which, aside from his weapons and what he kept on his person, amounted to depressingly little) was hidden away or bolted down, Willam had met them at the air lock to greet them and assure them not to worry about the chemical smell that still lingered about the ship. He had made sure that decontamination had been immensely thorough. Willam had spent most of his time in the pilot seat afterwards, using his cybernetic eye to watch over his guests for most of that time while the autopilot did most of the work. It was when he noticed that Ylva was alone in the main cabin shortly after they were due to congregate that Willam decided that all due haste was required. Making certain the autopilot was still doing its job and tabbing out of the security feeds, the captain of the Lathspell arrived just in time to see the Zabrak woman sigh while gazing at a cup. Willam allowed himself a second to take her appearance in; just a shade shorter than himself, well muscled, giving off a confidence by instinct even though she appeared to be tired. What's not to like? "Hmm. If I was a mug and you gave me that look, I would have filled myself up for you instantaneously," Willam said, his voice warm as he strode into the room. "However, since this one clearly lacks good taste... here." Reaching out with his left, flesh and blood hand, Willam picked up the mug and held it out to the Zabrak, a slight smile on his lips wrinkling his left eye.

[Ash]

Even while Vincent was suppose to be off and about helping out Legion and the rest of the galaxy, he couldn't stop doing work of any kind. Even while aboard the neutral ship Lathspell, he still had a series of pads he would work from, going through reports and spreadsheets for Legion, both the company and the greater space around Daalang, Kenekes, and a few other planets. It was unusual to see the leader of a group like Legion, even if it wasn't a galactic size entity such as the Republic, Empire, or even the Hutts, to be out gallivanting around the galaxy, but it was all hands on deck.

And that included Vince. He wasn't a warrior, he was a manager, more or less, building up Legion from nothing and still watching it grow and shift. Its people happiness and morale has never been higher, even in these troubling times, and they were pulling together with unseen enthusiasm.

Well, even if there are these... Archeri alien creatures are getting closer and closer... well we need to do all we can to pull together and get through this.

Vince put down the pad he was reading over, its numbers of outgoing bacta resources throughout the galaxy. Laural was doing well with others of his inner circle of running the basics of Legion, and he was glad he had people who could take over when he was away on important business. This form of business happens to be a simple escort mission.

"Of course, its suppose to be a simple escort mission. Its only simple until first contact with an enemy, then it all becomes a shit show."

Vince mumbled to himself, looking out the nearby window from the bunk he was sitting in, watching the lights from hyperspace fly by and he sighed. He missed being around his office and his people. Even Victoria, his ever dutiful bodyguard, was across space in the near yet far corvette they took over here. Unable to do more work, he locked out the pad and set it on his bunk, getting to his feet. There was a soft tink of metal on metal as his armor shifted around as he stood, but otherwise it was fairly quiet as he left the area he was in.

Heading down the hall, he came on the main cabin, where Willam and Ylva were conversing. He didn't know what they were talking about.

Willem was a good enough looking man, going on middle age with hair starting to become grey. With his cybernetics, he looked like a classic, holovid smuggler captain. Someone who Vince would hire. He could always use more people.

His dark eyes next skipped to Ylva, assessing her once again. A Zabrak female, with decent size horns and built like a fighter. Personally, he would call her handsome over pretty or beautiful, and honestly he would like her to be around if there was a fight. He would bet she would rip him apart in a fight.

He kept his face neutral and emotionless as he walked the last few paces towards them, standing far enough away from them to make sure there was no discomfort, and safety on everyone's part. He didn't quite trust anyone yet, and he was sure the feeling was mutual.

"Captain. Ylva. I hope everyone is well. Is our timeline for hitting Bothawui still unchanged?"

His eyes flicked back up to Captain Willem, his eyes and face still a blank pokerface. He assumed that they were on track with Willam coming out of his pilots chair, but he was still curious. Nothing wrong with a good series of questions. A twinkle of curiosity showed in his dark eyes as he looked at Willam.

[CaptainBonkers]

Jayec wasn't entirely sure what the hell was going on in the Galaxy recently nor was he entirely sure how to feel about it. It seemed that lately things had been going crazy everywhere across the Hutt Space. A part of him disliked the chaos, how it went on to ruin the lives of people that could do little to fight it, owing to their Aruetii culture that made them reliant on others for protection. On the other hand, chaos bred opportunity for mercenaries like him. When folks couldn't defend themselves, they were fairly willing to pay others good credits to mercenaries like Jayec to get rid of the things threatening their sense of security. That meant plenty of easy gigs like this were available and right now he had use for one. He had recently gotten a new bunch of kids from back home to fill vacancies in the ranks and the newbies needed some easy jobs where they could try their feet at real combat without Jayec having to constantly watch them so they wouldn't get themselves killed. Or worse, someone else. 

It wasn’t always easy running the Clan Veth Mandalorian College but the fact that his own clan regarded him well enough to send their young to him to get some additional training after having completed their training back home was an honor. There were regularly more Veth kids looking to join up than there were actual vacancies in Jayec’s outfit but the turnover rate was fairly high, too. Most of the kids stayed onboard for six to twelve months, after which they headed out on their own with a letter of recommendation from him. From what he had heard, very few of them remained without a well paying gig for a long.

The only downside Jayec could think of about the current arrangement was that it was more common for the new recruits to call him uncle rather than chief or something else. He blamed Jayna for that. His niece seemed to delight in ensuring that the newbies took to mimicking her. Sure, they might have had a good reason to look up to her, and she had definitely earned the right to call Jayec whatever she liked, but it was still an annoyance to get ‘elek, ba’vodu’ as a reply when you expected ‘alor’ or ‘alor’ad’.

This job, while seemingly simple, had a slightly odd component, though one that was hardly an unwelcome one. The presence of the Jolly Janitors was a bit surprising, seeing how shipping cargo wasn’t part of their regular activities. However, since the Janitors being here meant that Wolfie would also be participating, Jayec wasn’t about to complain. He had been a little out of loop lately to the goings on with folks on Nar Shaddaa, so getting a chance to catch up with someone from there was more than welcome. There was probably going to be more than enough time to chat during the job. Or after it, if things for some reason got heated.

Scaring off some pirates didn’t sound like a job that would end up being tricky. Most of those shitminglers turned tail and ran as as soon as they met any stiff resistance. Hell, very few of them would even attack ships with passable armaments, which the ships on this gig had a plenty, what with those Legion people also protecting the shipment convoy. Any pirates thinking of attacking the lot of them needed either numbers so superior that they could tank the casualties or to be so off their meds that that they thought their shitty DIY privateer ships could take a target like this. Things ought to be fine unless those ‘Archeri’ things that he had been hearing about showed up. That was the only scenario in which things might get really interesting, since they might actually pack enough of a bunch to realistically threaten the convoy and its escorts.

Anyway, it was time to get to the others. Jayec let out one final grunt and reached for the toilet paper. After he was done with it, he flushed, pulled up his pants and attached the various armor pieces in need of reattachment after being taken off, picked up his helmet from the sink and exited the loo.

The others had already gathered up. There was Ylva, looking great as usual. Well, maybe not as great as usual; she seemed a little frazzled, maybe. A hint of heavy eyelids and posture that wasn’t quite as alert as usual, like she hadn’t slept too well during the previous night or was slightly hungover. Knowing Ylva both scenarios were entirely plausible. The others present Jayec only knew what little he had been told by the folks footing the bill, which was to say not much. William Scathe, the owner of the ship they were currently on, and Vincent Krenth, a member of the Legion brass.

The Lathspell’s captain was a fairly regular looking fellow with bits and pieces of himself missing in action. Jayec had fairly quickly filed the fellow under ‘smuggler comma small-time’ in his mind and so far had not seen anything that might drastically shake his assumption. Of course, he hadn’t spotted that much evidence for it either apart from one seam that looked like it might have been a concealed hatch. Then again, considering that this ship model was a regular favorite of smugglers, the bloke might have just bought a used ship and gotten a one that had belonged to a smuggler before.

Krenth, the Legion fellow, was a different kind of fish and a bit harder to label. On the other hand, he was some higher up in a big corp, which usually meant that they were just a suit that the board sent along to direct things. However, at the man did not seem at uncomfortable in his equipment which suggested that he wasn’t just some suit with no combat experience.

“Gentlemen, Wolfie.” he said and nodded to each as he settled to leaning against the wall.

[Meira]

"Hmm. If I was a mug and you gave me that look..."

The voice had startled her slightly. But the only indication to that effect was that Ylva turned her head somewhat quickly as the man spoke and then approached. She appraised the ship's captain as he neared. The obvious things to look at would have been the cybernetic arm, or the bit that had replaced his right eye. And she did look at these things, briefly. But Ylva's eyes did not linger on them long. She was one much more fond of legs, butt, and chest when it came to the male body. Willam was, in that department, a bit on the lean side for Ylva's taste. She was just about at a heat with him, and possibly close to him in weight as well. What he lacked in brute muscle, however, he made up for in charm.

"Just what I need," she mused as she accepted the now filled cup of caf, "another man full of himself." She delivered the last with a broad grin and a quick, knowing wink, to let him know she was only mostly teasing.

This time, Ylva heard the footsteps of another approaching the main cabin and was able to turn her head in time to see The other stranger in this mission approaching. Vincent was, apparently, pretty important in his organization. One of the top brass types. She knew little of him, apart from that. She was fairly certain she outweighed him though, and she was taller than him as well. Were he not in his armor, Ylva was certain she could toss the man around a bit. Not really her type, though there was always something to be said about being able to manhandle someone. At Vincent's question, Ylva's eyes turned back to the roguish captain at her side as she lifted her cup to sip the still steaming hot caf. Ears catching a faint sound, Ylva lowered her cup and held up a hand.

"Hold up there, Cap." she said, turning her eyes toward the corridor where she could now more distinctly hear the tell-tale sounds of Jayec's approach. "We might as well do a full brief and only have to say it once."

A moment later, the Mandalorian's imposing figure darkened the doorway. Ylva felt a good number of her own muscles relaxing at her friend's presence. With everything going on lately, the Blind Eye crew had found themselves scattered to the winds. It was a comfort to have a familiar face nearby again. If nothing else, Ylva knew he'd have her back no matter what crazy shit went down.

Taking a large gulp of her caf, Ylva set her cup down and turned her face toward Willam. She gave the man an I'll go first, if that's alright look. It wasn't much of a question. This was his ship, sure, but the supplies... and people being hauled to Bothawui all came from Nar Shaddaa. As far as Ylva was concerned, Willam and Legion were hired help. They had some authority and say in things, but someone had to be the leader. Ylva also had a good deal of experience with managing men. Not people. Men. She was the natural choice for de facto leadership.

"We'll be exiting hyperspace soon." she said, moving toward the small holotable near the center of the room. She fished a data chip from the inside pocket of the small black vest that she wore and inserted it into the table's port. The projector flickered to life and an image of Bothawui appeared. The display then ran through a series of animations. Dots appeared near the planet, indicating the arrival of their caravan.

"When we arrive, the local authorities want to do some scans. Not sure what the hell they think they're scanning for but, if we want to get paid we gotta play along." More dots appeared, a different shade to indicated they were the locals. "Then, we can offload. The Jolly Giant and the Legion ships will be required to stay in orbit. There will be shuttles coming to pick everything up. Cap, you will be allowed to land at the site they've set up for the refugee camp settlements."

Ylva pointed as a section on the planet outlined itself. All else disappeared and that section of the planet zoomed in a few times. It stopped on a low resolution, crude outline map of a large camp-like complex. At the very edge, just outside what appeared to be a perimeter wall, a large circle flashed to indicate the landing pad.

"We'll offload the medical supplies and get paid. When we're all back up here, we can fuck off back to our own ships and leave." the holoprojection flicked off as it's animation ended. "Questions?"

[Blue]

It was not difficult to notice the appraising gaze Ylva ran across him and, completely unabashed, Willam returned it with one of his own. Up close and with his attention undivided, he found that she was every bit as pleasing to the eye as her holoprojected image suggested. At her words, his smile grew into a wide grin and he laughed warmly, placing a hand over his heart. "Such a delightfully sharp tongue! I can only hope that I get the opportunity to experience it employed extensively before our association comes to a close... Though matched with that quick wit, there could be a real danger I might fall in love." Though the latter part of his words were obviously meant as an exaggeration, Willam found himself pondering on how he might be able to prolong his association with Ylva at least to the point of sharing a drink. His thoughts were disturbed, however, as the sound of feet on metal heralded an end to their private conversation. The captain gave the Zabrak woman a wistful sigh and a light shrug. "Alas, business before pleasure, as ever," he uttered regretfully, turning to see who it was that had joined them. The fellow who entered looked human (and not an unattractive one) for the most part, though that really did not count for much in a galaxy as large and varied as their own. More importantly, he looked to Willam like the type of man who spent most of his time behind a desk, signing documents that sent thousands of people to their deaths in some distant war-zone before going off to have a nice cup of tea, or else in some high-society ballroom rubbing elbows with planetary governor types and commenting dryly on the weather. Possibly both. He was at least dressed in something more practical than a suit, so it seemed he possessed some combat sense. The spacer was about to reply to the man, who he vaguely recalled being named Vincent... Kirith? Kathern?... No, Krenth. Definitely Krenth. But Ylva halted him just as he opened his mouth, the sound of someone in heavier armour approaching. The last of their company entered the room, a man taller even than Willam himself and with the look of a grizzled mercenary. Mandalorian if I had to hazard a guess, judging from the armour and bearing. He had met (and fought) more than one or two over his ignoble career to earn that passing knowledge. He took note of the Zabrak's subtle unwinding as the larger man joined them. They know each other... perhaps through business, or socially? She certainly seems more at ease now than she was a few moments ago... Interesting... Three mercenary leaders, on his small vessel. All in all, I'm fairly certain my ship is currently flying overcapacity on ego alone... and it's already dangerously high with just me and Odd aboard. All so gathered, Ylva proceeded to shoot him a look for consent that clearly brooked no real questioning. Willam easily guessed her direction of thought, the corner of his lips quirking up into a crooked smile as he bowed her towards the others with a slight flourish of hands. The Zabrak was obviously used to being in charge, and the captain had no intention of disabusing her of that position in the meantime. He watched and listened as Ylva began the briefing, his cybernetic eye whirring whisperingly as it focused upon the image punched up on the holoprojector. When she mentioned the scans the authorities had demanded them to go through he felt an unpleasant tingling in his right arm, flexing the mechanical fingers of his hand instinctively. After what I heard was going on in Hutt Space, after seeing those... things... I'd be nervous too. Willam hid his thoughts easily, running his fingers through the hairs of his neat beard. An eyebrow twitched upwards and a quiet 'hmm' escaped him as he leaned back on the counter behind him. "Perhaps they've had trouble with smugglers bringing in things that they shouldn't. Awful people, smugglers, every last one of them. Considering the inevitable scans, I can only hope that you are all as honest as I am", the captain said. Though his speech lacked any inflection to suggest insincerity, there was a split-second shadow of a wink playing about his eye. When asked if there were any questions, Willam restrained himself from pursuing the real query in his mind for Ylva and instead asked "What kind of welcoming committee are we expecting landside, if any? Some hands to offload the cargo to, any local authorities hanging around? Or will we be left to our own devices?"

[CaptainBonkers]

The plan hadn't changed from the briefing Jayec had received upon accepting this contract. Fly in, keep watch while the cargo was being unloaded and bugger off after getting paid. As sweet and simple as they came. Honestly, considering how simple the gig ultimately was, Jayec was somewhat surprised that the people footing the bills had sprung for a platoon of Mandalorian mercenaries, not that he was complaining. Easy money was easy money, after all. Maybe they were just worried enough over all the shit that was going on in the Hutt space and felt that extra protection was necessary, no matter the cost. 

Having to be scanned was something of a surprise, but not one he was worried over; while Jayec definitely had few warrants out for his arrest and a number of bounties on his head, all of them were on unaligned and independent planets or issued by folks outside of the law the Mandalorian had managed to piss off over the years. His record inside Republic space was clean. Well, clean-ish. He did have a number of misdemeanors on his record, mostly involving copious amounts of alcohol, as well as a number of assault and batteries, but nothing that would ultimately see him in trouble with the law. Jayec had always taken care to have the proper licenses while working in Republic space. Sure, keeping them in order might have been a bit of a hassle, but they gave you a lot of leeway when dealing with the authorities. You weren't beating the everloving shit out of a citizen; you were reining in a criminal you had legally arrested in your capacity as a bounty hunter.

There was one question Jayec did have over the current plan. Ylva had mentioned that the Jolly Giant and the Legion ships would have to remain in orbit, but had not mentioned Bes'galaar. The old bird was definitely small enough to set down on the planet and his entire crew was on it and as good as they were with the ship, Mandalorians were made for fighting in person, not via weapons systems of a ship. "Does the landing site have room for Bes'galaar or does she have to look for some other spot to land?"  

[Ash]

Vince turned his head when he heard someone approaching, only to see the fourth person of their misfit team. He nodded his head to the man and looked to Meira, who spoke up around them. Seemed like she would end up being the one in charge, and he really wasn't up to argue with it. He was along for extra support in all forms. She rattled off the plan of how things would go, and to him, it seemed solid enough.

"Seems strait forward enough."

He didn't really have much else to say. If there was enemy contact, then any plan they had would go out the window. It would be better to have a rough outline and plan from there then change and update accordingly. He ignored the other two men as they spoke up, the captain especially as his comments suggesting he wasn't as honest as he made himself out to be. Smuggler through and through. His second questions was more to the point of what someone should ask.

The Mandalorian seemed more concerned for his ship being around them than anything else.

"Personally, I think it would be a better idea for your ship to stay in space with my own ships. If there does happen to be a fight then we can adjust."

Unsaid, it woulnd't be wise to have too much of one group down there for this. Didn't need too much fighters around who probably wound't help move a box. Finally, he looked back to the captain.

"Captain, its my guess that anything that could be remotely thought of as normal interactions for freight is gone. These... bugs probably will cause security to be extra high."

So expect extra forces on the ground around us, just in case. Extra scans. All the fun stuff. At least that what Legion is doing. Why woulnd't anyone else.

[Meira]

"With all the shit going down in Hutt space right now, it's a wonder that Bothawui is letting anyone in at all. The scans are meant for that sickness but it's all bullshit. No one knows what's going on. They just know people are dying. It's enough to make anyone paranoid." Ylva said as she pocketed her data chip once again.

"As for on planet, Bothawui forces are keeping their distance. They're mostly stationed at the perimeter of the camp area. The shuttles they're sending up will be piloted by droids. Our people will have to load them. When we land, the refugees will be unloading." She turned to Jayec. "Bes'galaar won't have space to land with us, but it can fly cover for us all. It's the only ship they'll let any closer than orbit besides this one.

"The big thing here," she said, looking at all three men, "is raids. There have been some already and they are expecting more. Bothawui isn't willing to provide any more support in orbit. That's why you're here." Ylva motioned with her chin toward Vincent. "If we can avoid any shit up here, the rest should be gravy."

With all the questions answered, Ylva gave a quick nod and stepped back over to the counter, retrieving her cup of caf. It had cooled enough for her to take a long swig. She was exhausted and she hoped the stimulating effect of the caf would kick in soon. Knowing her luck though, it'd just give her the jitters. That was the last thing she needed now, to feel tired and twitchy. Suppressing a sigh of frustration, Ylva glanced at her chrono. Once they arrived, it would be better. The Jolly Giant would be closer and she'd...

"Hey, Cap." Ylva said, settling her eyes on the man and stopping that line of thought before it took her too far down that particular rabbit hole. "Wanna show me your cockpit?"

---

After serving as a pleasant distraction, Ylva had left Willam to perform his duties as ship captain while she returned to the small cabin space she'd been given when she arrived aboard. There she dawned her favorite leather jacket and strapped a couple of blaster pistols to her thighs. With Vincent and Jayec providing all the muscle for this job, she didn't see any reason to overburden herself. She was adjusting the tightness of one strap when she felt the ship shudder slightly as it dropped from hyperspace. Instantly, an alarm began to blare throughout the ship. The ship then lurched and Ylva had to put an arm out, grabbing at the wall to keep her balance. Turning, she quickly made her way back toward the cockpit to see what the hell was going on.

They were under attack, that's what the hell was going on. From what Ylva could see through the viewport as Willam maneuvered them around various streaks of laser fire, there was a ragtag group of ships between them and the planet. None of them seemed larger than the Jolly Giant, but a couple of them spewed smaller shapes from their holds. Fighters.

"Shit." Ylva swore, then looked around. "Where the hell are Jayec and Vincent?"

[Blue]

Willam absorbed the answers their de-facto Zabrak leader provided. The unsettling sensation he was feeling was not put at ease, though why would it be? For this thing to go off without any issues, everything would have to go smoothly and without any unpleasant surprises, and his life had been filled with nothing but the opposite of both of those. His mind was swiftly taken off that unhappy track when Ylva joined him at the counter once more, checked her watch and then brazenly asked him to show her to the cockpit. An eyebrow quirked upwards once more, but the small smile that accompanied it would no doubt hint that the idea was a welcome one. "Oh, I don't think anybody in their right mind would dream of denying such a request from you," Willam said, his voice lowering a shade as he lead her forwards. She may be quite blunt, but sometimes subtly can be rather overrated... besides, I could certainly use the distraction... It may not have been the first time such an event occurred in this cockpit, but at least I wasn't trying to navigate an asteroid field at the same time... again, Willam thought to himself as he prepared to drop out of hyperspace. The adrenaline high had been truly something at the time, but the risk to his poor ship had ensured that he would be in no hurry to re-enact such a high-risk romp. Ylva had gone back to her cabin to prepare and Willam was getting ready to take the ship off autopilot the moment they hit realspace, just in case things went wrong immediately. I'm probably just being paranoid but- Things went wrong immediately. Willam was forced to instantly start taking evasive maneuvers the second they emerged to avoid the Lathspell becoming void-blown space dust, the ship's alarm starting to blare away half a heartbeat later. He did not even have time to curse his luck; Ylva quickly joined him once again, snapping out a question as the spacer jerked the vessel from side to side. Can't have my company witness me panicking, that'd just be embarrassing. "I'm on it," he replied calmly, hiding his raising alarm with a lifetime of practice as a metal finger flicked out to hit a button on the dash without his eyes leaving the viewport and sensor equipment. The ship's intercom came to life with a soft 'ding' and the captain began cheerfully updating his other passengers. "This is your captain speaking. We have hit some minor turbulence as a result of incoming fire. If you'd care to watch the light show, please feel free to join myself and the delightful Ylva in the cockpit. Otherwise, sit down, strap up, and... Pray? Beg? Brood? Whatever it is you chaps do when your safety is completely out of your hands. That is all." Announcement over, Willam turned the intercom off and tapped his ear to speak into his personal commlink. "Odd, get on stand-by in case we get hit and we need some patchwork doing. Though judging by the distracted or abysmal aiming of our foes, I wouldn't hold your breath... No, Odd, I- Yes, I'm aware you don't breathe, it was a metaphor! Don't hold your metaphorical breath in your metaphorical lungs- Just be ready to help out when something inevitably goes sideways like it always bloody does..." Willam ignored the rude outburst of Binary on the other end of the comm and got back to focusing on keeping all their hides intact. Even while he had been talking, the captain seemed more than capable of ducking a weaving between enemy shots. Though he would never outright proclaim it (bragging, after all, being the refuge of the incompetent and insecure), talking, flying, and shooting were three of the four things he excelled in. Not that he would have to brag in this case; it was like he was playing with the bristling amount of laser fire that was flung in their direction, comfortably dancing around the powerful bolts of energy that were more than capable of wiping the light freighter out of existence. "Well, Ylva, this is your show. Try to go around the big space battle, or punch through it? If you have a preference, now's the time to share with me," Willam casually asked the Zabrak, sending the Lathspell into a spin that avoided a barrage of fire by mere meters.

[Ash]

Vincent retired quickly after the briefing was over, going back to his quiet little spot away from everyone else to continue his work away from work. It helped him relax and keep his mind from wandering more than it already did. Spreadsheets and planning were best compared to this bloody bug war. Or so he thought.

It felt like he was only working for a few minutes before he felt the unique drop from hyperspace, and then everything getting sent whirling around.

"Well that's never good."

Vince spoke under his breath, probably speaking out what everyone else thought at this time. He trusted all his ships to do what they could, and he had to work here. He gathered his helmet and stuck his rifle on his back before he held Willam come over the intercom with some sarcastic words.

Cocky smuggler to the last. Kinda reminds me of Bit.

Keeping the rest of his thoughts to himself, he ran up to the cockpit, bracing himself against the doorway for a moment before he grabbed an extra chair and strapped himself in.

"So, are we shooting back at... whatever is shooting at us? And where's comms?"

He needed to get his corvettes screening the freighters approach, if they weren't already. And he hated being in the dark. He wasn't a solder, and he worked best in the rear.

[CaptainBonkers]

Circling around above the landing area, huh? He could work with that, but it did not mean Jayec was exactly pleased with the task the authorities planetside had consigned Bes'galaar to. Sure, flying around the area beat staying in the orbit but it was still a waste if you asked him. If any fighting took part on ground his vode would have to jump out of the ship to take part in the fight, leaving them unnecessarily exposed for few seconds. Longer still if there was no good cover in the vicinity. But if the clients didn't want to use his crew efficiently, it was their problem. Jayec was still going to bill them for the whole show plus for the extra fuel his ship would be burning through while flying around and waiting. Engines and repulsors did not run on gratitude, after all.

"Roger that. I'll relay the information to Kenna." I'm sure she'll be absolutely thrilled, he added in the privacy of his mind. Jayec's second wasn't one keep her mouth shut when she received instructions or orders she didn't like, at least when the air wasn't filled with blasterfire and explosions. However, before he had a chance to depart, Ylva issued her less than subtle invitation to the captain of the ship.

The T-visor of his helmet betrayed no expression but beneath it the line of his mouth narrowed. The invitation itself was quintessentially Ylva; frank, straight to the point and bordering on blunt. However, it was also unprofessional. They were on a job here, not on some party boat. For one, if they were, the food would be better and he would be plastered by now. Sure, they had some time to kill, but that did not mean they were off the clock here. Hooking up with your temporary co-workers probably wasn’t what their clients had in mind when they had hired them.

Well, ultimately it was none of his business, though. Ylva was a grown woman and could decide for herself what or who she did. It was merely a little strange that she had chosen to do something like this on a job. Jayec had always thought her more professional than this.

As he departed for the section of the ship with his stuff, Jayec couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was something off about Ylva’s behavior. First the frazzled appearance and then this. Was she stressed or something? He would maybe have to ask her about it later, but first inform Kenna about the clients’ wishes.

---

After relaying the info from the briefing to his crew, Jayec had settled next to a storage crate, over which he had spread some of his equipment for cleaning and maintenance. There was always pieces of equipment that could benefit from some additional care and Jayec found the process relaxing and even somewhat meditative. He was pulled out of his thoughts when the familiar jerk of hyperspace exit shook the ship, soon followed by more sudden movements. Evasive maneuvers? His suspicions were confirmed few moments later when the ship’s captain’s voice blared over the comms informing the other passengers about the situation.

Jayec couldn’t say he was exactly pleased about this turn of events. He should have holoprojected into this damn dingy and stayed on Bes’galaar with his crew. But here he was and there was no changing that. At least he knew that his comrades were in good hands between Kenna’s leadership and Farla’s piloting. He set his comm to the ship’s channel and replied.

“Understood. Unless you have a turret or a weapons system in need of manning, I’ll stay here. I’m guessing the cockpit is already cozy enough without me and my armor squeezing in there. Besides, I still need to finish maintenance on my gun and my helmet could use re-calibration.” his current location was also closer to the airlock. In case shit went down pear shaped and sideways, all he would have to do was to seal up his suit, lather on some thermo gel and space himself. Hopefully the Bes’galaar would get to him before the emergency oxygen in his suit ran out.

[Meira]

At a different time, the full value of Willam's snarky shipwide announcement could have been appreciated. With a number of hostile ships trying to tear them and their caravan apart, Ylva was only able to manage a half smile. Not long after Willam's announcement, Vincent appeared in the cockpit and sat himself down. His first question wasn't really one that she could answer at that moment. She was sure the ships had some sort of guns. But the second question.

"Behind you." she barked. She'd been leaning up against that station not long ago...

Jayec's voice came over the comms. He was staying put. Well, that made sense. There wouldn't be any more room to move around in the cockpit if he decided to join them.

"We're sitting ducks up here." Ylva said in response to Willam. There's not much we can do but get to the planet. The Legion ships should be the next ones to drop in. This is their job. Let them handle it." She said the last while turning her head toward Vincent, her eyes conveying the gravity of her statement.

At that moment, the ship's proximity alerts started to ping as the rest of the convoy arrived in real space. Immediately, the comms station blazed to life as transmissions between ships came through. Ylva took a step away form the station to give Vincent the room he needed to get his corvettes organized. She stepped over and slapped the shipwide comm. "Jayec, we'll need Bes'galaar to escort us down to the planet. Can you reach them?"

Trusting her friend to get shit done, Ylva didn't wait for a response. "Just keep us alive long enough to get sorted." she said to Willam and then rushed back to her bunk where she'd left her datapad with a direct link to the Jolly Giant. The link didn't work while in hyperspace, which hadn't been a problem unless this exact scenario occurred. She should have known better. Stumbling to her bunk, Ylva found it under a blanket and quickly keyed it on. Already, there were several text messages. Some had be sent during the hyperspace jumps. Simple status updates meant for her to read once they'd arrived in system. The last of these, however, was sent mere seconds ago.

WHAT THE FUCK!?

As she read the message, the datapad pinged with a video call. She connected and Remy's face filled the screen. His eyes, now rimmed with the faintest violet line, were wide and worried. He immediately dove into an unintelligible mess of words, sobs, and stifled squeaks of panic. This was odd, as Remy had always been one of the more levelheaded of her men. But then, with recent events, everything was different. And Ylva had to admit that seeing him while not feeling that new connection they shared was indeed disturbing. How quickly life could change...

"SHUT UP, REMY!" Ylva hissed. The authority, now returned to her voice, did its work. Remy stumbled to a halt, his eyes staring at her through the datapad. "Prep the shuttle. Get everything you can into it. Do you understand me?" Remy nodded, perhaps not trusting his own voice now. "We're going to get this ship through to you. Jayec's crew will protect us as we get down to the planet. Don't forget why we're here."

"Yes, ma'am." he said, then quickly added. "Just get back t-" but Ylva was already disconnecting. She pocketed the datapad and made her way back up to the cockpit.

From what she could see, their convoy was much more organized for battle now, and some of the Legion ships were already engaged with the pirates. "Get us over to the Jolly Giant." Ylva said, dropping herself down into the co-pilot's chair. She had no experience flying ships, but she didn't want to stand anymore. "We'll meet up with Bes'galaar and my shuttle and make a run for the surface. Once the pirates are cleared out, we can get the rest of the supplies down. But if shit goes sideways, at least we'll have delivered something."

[Blue]

Willam had entered a sort of zen like state as he spun and dodged through the void, all the focus of the many enemy fighters currently on him and his poor freighter. He had hoped that his sensors were just confused by the sudden activity right after dropping out of hyperspace, that it was not just them against a small fleet of pirates. But here they were, alone, dancing through the stars as death was continually spat at them. But Willam knew his ship, what she could do, what she could take. The only way it could get worse is if the rest of their caravan failed to arrive at all, and he had no control over that. All he could do was fly, and fly is what he damn well would do. The Legion man, Vincent, joined the two of them shortly after the announcement and made inquires. "Simply waiting for an opportune moment," he said briefly in response, his attention still focused on keeping them all alive. He never got the chance to respond to Vincent's second question; Ylva beat him to it with a short bark of direction. A shadow of a smile flickered across his features before being schooled back into neutrality. He heard their larger friend acknowledge and decline the offer to join them in the cockpit, and restrained from shrugging as he continued to weave through space. The captain inclined his head slightly to Ylva's words just as the rest of their group of mercenaries finally decided to join them in the fray. Willam instantly took advantage of the opening and blasted a pair of fighters as they turned to target the sudden appearance of bigger fish. The precise fire from his dorsal and port side lasers cannons turned them both into floating wrecks. He had little time to celebrate his slightly increased chances of survival, as Ylva gave him a command before rushing back into the ship. "Oh, now that's an order I can get behind," Willam called after her, his eyes still fixed on his sensors and view-port as he began complying to her words with a will. It was getting far easier to evade the incoming fire now that the rest of their more heavily armed and armoured allies had decided to show up. While he was not about to get huffy about not being the number one target anymore, in the back of his mind Willam could not help but start pondering if it might be time to make some changes to his vessel. She's a tough and fast old girl, but I think it's long overdue for me buy her something nice... perhaps an upgraded hyperdrive, or more powerful sublight engines? Couldn't hurt to improve her weapon systems a little... After a short while zipping about, getting closer to the caravan's bigger ships and occasionally destroying a fighter that got too nosy, Ylva returned, plonked herself down into the co-pilot's seat, and gave him some more specific directions. The moment he had identified the Jolly Giant he began his approach with a wordless nod, all of his focus on getting them there in one piece. Mostly. He could not claim to know Ylva well, but the tiredness he had seen in her before had not seemed to have shifted since she had come aboard. While he would normally have had no qualms in taking all of the credit for her continued depleted energy, the tingling in his arm told him that something more was at play here. Still, Willam was not fool enough to ask her outright. He did not know her well, true, but he was quite sure he had taken her measure fairly well in their time together on the Lathspell. He had no doubt such a stupid idea of simply asking "Are you okay?" would result in a severe tongue lashing... and not the fun kind- Quickly diverting his train of thought to more important matters, Willam brought them in close to the Jolly Giant, staying in motion so as to avoid becoming an easy target. "I hope your friends are punctual," Willam uttered to the cockpit in general as he sent another fighter spinning off into the void with a blast of laser cannon fire. "I would be very much put out if my ship got destroyed waiting for them with my arse hanging out. Hopefully we can avoid that!" A pause. "Also dying. Let's avoid dying as well, while we're at it."

[CaptainBonkers]

"Jayec, we'll need Bes'galaar to escort us down to the planet. Can you reach them?"

"If they're out of hyperspace I should be able to, though if they are, they're probably already watching our ass. Probably just haven't caught up with us yet." the inertia dampeners and artificial gravity not quite keeping up with the hectic maneuvers the Lathspell was pulling made cleaning his blaster's barrel a bit tricky, but he'd attempted and completed far more demanding operations in worse conditions. The occasional tremor or sudden jerk was nothing he couldn't adjust to. "Unless of course they've finally gotten fed up with my shit and decided to stage a mutiny." he added jokingly.

I took a few tries to get through to Bes'galaar, but after pinging Kenna a few times Jayec managed to get through to his second in command. The connection wasn't the best possible but it was stable and clear enough to communicate.

"You out of hyperspace yet?" he inquired bluntly. There was little need for more roundabout communication.

"We are. I'm guessing you're calling because this shitshow?" Kenna’s voice was calm but tinged by irritation. She wasn’t a fan of space combat, mostly because you couldn’t really punch ships. She had tried once and the results had been deeply disappointing for everyone involved.

"Yup. And Ylva wants us to push through to the planet."

Kenna remained silent for a full few seconds before replying. “Of fucking course she wants to push through.” she paused and sighed. “Well, we’re being paid for this shit, might as well do our job. I’ll tell Farla to floor it. We should catch up with you in a sec.”


“Roger that. I’ll tell the others. Over and out.”

---

The Bes’galaar was a ship that defied definition. Less kind tongues would have called it a mongrel of a ship while more polite folks had called it a ‘privateer’ ship, whatever that was supposed to mean. It had began its life some hundred years or so as a Mandalorian transport ship but had been put through enough repairs and modifications to inspire a philosophical conundrum or two. These days little of the original ship remained as everything from the engines to the mess sink had been replaced over the decades as new pieces had been added to keep up with the changing times and needs of its owners. Most of the new additions had been new weapons systems and now the Bes’galaar boasted an assortment of weapons that could make captain of a small frigate inquire his first office if there were any reinforcements nearby they could call in, just in case.

Now the old bird fired up its engines and charged after the Lathspell, soon catching up with the freighter and settling into matching speed next to it. The Bes’galaar was a multipurpose ship but if there was one thing it unambiguously excelled at when it came to matchups against other ships it was obliterating hostile fighters. Its many blaster cannons and missile launchers were for their up keep and shredding through the fighters trying to assault the freighter the ship’s Alor currently was one. Hopefully that would be enough to ensure it made it through without a turning into a ball of burning metal.

[Meira]

The paste went on with a pleasant, cooling sensation. A slight tingle was the indicator that the ingredients were working. At least, that’s what the clerk who had sold the concoction to him had said. Rejuvenate the skin and whatnot. Balso sipped his tea and the hot liquid provided a pleasing contrast to the cool mask on his face. The Dug gave a contented sigh and settled back further into his chair. This was the life.

”CAPTAIN!” a voice called out as the door to Balso’s cabin slid open.

Balso jumped in surprise, but only managed to spill a small drop of his tea as he did so. With a growl, he rounded on the man who had interrupted him, his snarls possibly lessened by the periwinkle paste that covered all but his eyes.

“What is it, Napes?”

”That caravan has arrived!” the man said, unsure if he should gawk at his captain’s face, or avert his gaze. What resulted was an awkward dance of his eyes flitting back and forth between the two options.

“Right on time. What are you bothering me for? You have your orders.”

”This group is fighting back more than the last, sir. They have military escorts.”

“I see. Well, evasive maneuvers and -for fuck sake Napes have you never seen a cleansing mask?- target their larger ships first.” Napes nodded and rushed back through the doorway. “DISABLE THEIR ENGINES! DON’T DESTROY THEM.” Balso added, shouting after the man as he turned to wash the paste from his face before following the man to the bridge.

---

“Yes ma’am.” Remy said. “Just get back to…” the connection cut off, “...us.” There might have been a time when such abrupt treatment had hurt Remy’s feelings. That time was long past. He’d been with Ylva for several years now and knew that she was not one for displaying sentimentality. With the recent development, there was even less need for such things. They all knew, fully and completely, how much their boss actually cared for them. And she knew their loyalty more than ever, and she’d already been extremely confident in that fact. So while the quick, no-nonsense treatment didn’t offend Remy’s sentimentality, it did worry him now. It was amazing how quickly a person could adapt to a new reality.

Channeling his inner boss bitch, Remy went to work. While he did not technically need to bark out his orders to the rest of the crew, their distance from home meant a somewhat weakened effect and so Remy covered all his bases and spoke his orders out loud. Anton, and Frederique were are eager as he was to be reunited with Madame Wolf, and so sprang into action. They began issuing orders to several of the utility droids that has been purchased for menial ship tasks to begin loading specific crates into the shuttle that had been squeezed into the cargo hold. Most of the crates on the Jolly Giant’s manifest were general supplies and gear for the refugee camps. But Remy made sure they loaded the crates designated as essential supplies into the shuttle. Those were the ones that needed to be brought to the planet. If they lost everything else, even the ship, getting these crates to the surface would mean the trip was a success. Though Remy shuddered at the thought of not being able to return home, he knew that theirs was a vital mission, and that all would be reunited soon enough either way.

Remy was finishing the final startup sequence for the shuttle as the others loaded in the last crate. As soon as Remy felt that they were all inside and the doors sealed, Remy unceremoniously started the engines and blasted out of the cargo hold. A thrill down his spine let him know that Ylva was nearby again. Searching, he spotted the ship she’d gone off to before the caravan jumped to hyperspace closing in, followed by the one flown by Jayec’s crew. With a grin plastered on his face, Remy turned his attention toward his task of piloting the mostly defenseless shuttle toward the planet.

---

“There they are.” Ylva said, a flush of blood and energy hitting her as they approached the Jolly Giant. Her skin, previously almost waxy and wan, felt more vibrant. More alive. She sat straighter in her chair, leaning forward slightly as she watched the shuttle intently. “Vincent.” she barked. “Have your ships cover us. You protect that ship, you hear me?” she turned her head toward Vincent, arm outstretched and pointing toward the shuttle. “And us.” she added.

What the shuttle -the Jolly Junior- lacked in weapons and heavy defenses, it made up for in maneuverability. What’s more, it was piloted by Remy who was perhaps the most eccentric pilot Ylva had ever known. It dipped and weaved and spun as it danced away from the Jolly Giant. Part of Ylva worried for the larger ship, sitting helpless. It was a big, fat target for those pirates. But everything she cared about was on that shuttle. Her eyes followed it like some kind of protective mother watching her child run ahead of her.

---

”Their defenses are too strong!”

“Missiles are not getting through their shields.”

“Another small ship is making for the planet.”

These updates were being shouted from every direction around Balso as he lingered over a display. These corvettes escorting the caravan had not been expected. They were apparently learning. He keyed up the information they’d been able to glean about the smaller ships. One shuttle, one light freighter, and one heavily modified… mercenary ship? Balso rubbed his chin in thought. If the escort ships were so effective, why were these people risking a run past their forces? Why not simply wait out the battle and head toward the planet when the coast was clear?

“There must be something very valuable on one of those ships.” Balso muttered to himself, then straightened up to address his crew. “Continue volleys, but do not advance on the escort ships. Keep them at a distance.” he said, then keyed up the display to show the smaller ships. “See if you can track their trajectory. Send it to my fighter. And notify my wingmen. We’re going after them.”

[Blue]

The larger ships were, thankfully, doing a fantastic job of pulling the attention away from the Lathspell. After their arrival, the pirates' focus was drastically shifted away from the small fry and onto the much more threatening vessels, leaving Willam free to move barring the occasional fighter attempting to intercept them. All in all, they were not waiting around for too long; the shuttle from the Jolly Giant joined them relatively swiftly and began it's descent towards the planet, alongside a ship bristling with all kinds of weaponry. As the spacer captain fell into formation with these other ships, Willam took note of the sudden change in Ylva. Though hardly drastic, the way that she inexplicably shrugged off a good portion of the lethargy that had apparently been plaguing her since the start of this little venture upon the sight of her shuttle caused him a moderate amount of alarm. It reminded him in no small way of a strung out junkie gaining a burst of animation upon the promise of a free fix. It's probably nothing. Just relief on seeing the shuttle. His gut and aching arm told him otherwise. Still, he shoved the concern onto the back burner for the meantime with nary a raised eyebrow and followed the shuttle in on a trajectory towards the planet. The pilot was either more nervous than Willam was about incoming fire, drunk, or quite inexperienced in the art of flying, as the small vessel was veering all over the place even when there was little to dodge. They also appeared quite focused on getting down there, and the captain intercepted and blasted one or two fighters himself that had their attentions drawn onto the overtly weaving shuttle. Just as the Lathspell was about to break into the planet's atmosphere, the sensors in the dash beeped a couple of times before going quiet again, the heat of entry clouding whatever it was the ship had just started picking up. Definitely need to upgrade my sensor array... Though likely a result of some debris from the space battle behind them, Willam was nothing if not resigned to having odds stacked against him and touched the side of his bulky optical prosthetic. The sight in his right eye went black for fraction of a second before the ship's sensor logs began scroll by. The captain did not even try to hide the grimace on his face or the annoyed grunt that resulted in his findings. Something had seemed to have peeled away from the conflict above and had started following them at a respectable distance. It had been small readings, at least, but it was still cold comfort. Without turning to his fellows in the cockpit, Willam spoke as he picked up speed for a moment. "Got an issue. Picked up some readings just before we hit atmo; looks like we may have a few uninvited hangers-on trailing behind us. Smaller ships, probably fighters. Assuming our heavily armed friend out there can't occupy them all for a good chunk of time, it could make unloading the cargo problematic," Willam announced, the slight emphasis on the word 'problematic' indicating his real view on how being potentially strafed with turbolaser fire while lugging boxes off the ship sat with him. A pleasant few moments aside, this trip has pretty much solidified my desire to never take seemingly simple jobs from the HoloNet again... "They're still a good distance behind us, but if we land we'll be stuck out in the open. Unless we kick the cargo out as we fly by, they will catch up with us. Maybe they'll land and try to take things off our hands manually, maybe they'll just blast us on the ground and shift through the wreckage for salvage. Either way, we need to deal with them somehow and I am open to suggestions."

[CaptainBonkers]

Jayec slid in the final piece back on its place and was rewarded by the immensely satisfying sound of a piece snapping on its place. He pulled trigger once with the main power source inactivated to test the trigger's sensitivity and nodded approvingly. Just about right. 

"Here's a crazy suggestion, but have you considered murder? Pull a Crazy Aivan and take the fight to them. With Bes'galaar covering our tail we ought to be able to chew through a coupla of fighters with no issue."

His helmet could have still used a re-calibration but Jayec was getting the distinct feeling that they were about to get into a fight he could actually participate in. Either by making it to the ground or by getting hauled into some command ship spewing these fighters forth.

"Oh, and captain, just in case you were considering a tactical retreat into hyperspace, I ain't abandoning my vode under any circumstances and don't have any qualms about commandeering this ship if I have to." he added casually without any particular menace in his voice. He was stating a fact, nothing more. Not that he was assuming that the likely-smuggler owning this ship was considering fleeing, but in his experience smugglers weren't too keen on staying in fight if escape was even remotely plausible option. Hopefully having to fight a fully armed and armored mandalorian in the tight confines of a ship was enough of a deterrence to make escaping a undesirable option.

[Ash]

Vincent froze up for a moment, his fingers shuttering as he focused in on the communication panel. He wasn't meant for places like this, but rather in the rear. Why did he head out here? He shook his head and then went to work with comms.

It took him a few moments but he got into the Legion communication channel, which was locked behind several safes. He typed in his access code and read off a line that popped onto the screen before his eyes.

"I have the shiniest meat bicycle!"

He said it a little louder than he wanted, but his nerves were running high. He shook his head then fully linked in.

"Legion, this is thrown. All ships, we need forward and rear guards. Keep wide to cover sides. All freighters tighten up and limit exposed areas where the enemy can get in. Adapt as you will."

Everything was going well and he zoned out as he got data coming in, and he adapted and gave orders. Info would come in from other of his ships and with the combined data from everyone, coordinating was easy. His computer-like brain didn't hurt either.

He was pulled out when Ylva spoke up about an incoming shuttle that needed protection. He nodded.

"Target B-3 needs escort and protection. Send one ship then fallow us down to provide support. Everyone else clean up and overwatch. Relay information back to me."

[Meira]

Ylva's eyes were glued to the Jolly Junior whenever it was in view. When it wasn't, her eyes were unfocused, distant, and her head would turn slightly. Almost as if she were listening for it. The moment it came back into view her eyes would snap into focus again, tracking the ship as it maneuvered through the chaos of the ambush and pushed ever closer to the planet. The sound of Vincent coordinating his ships, of Willam piloting and chattering away his nerves, even Jayec's sharp tones were just a buzz of static in her mind as she stretched and strained toward that shuttle. As they passed by the line of pirate ships, the chaos faded behind them.

It was like coming up out of deep water and gulping in a lungful of air. Ylva's whole torso heaved as she breathed her relief. Ahead in the shuttle, the three Jolly Janitors did the same. She smiled as she felt them welcoming her back. She never wanted to leave them again. Their number had been reduced greatly, though Ylva knew that the ones they'd lost would be reunited with them in the great chorus soon enough. The spire was closer every day. They'd been lucky that few of their number had been discordant. It pained her greatly, but only a small handful of the Jolly Janitors would be lost forever.

"...the wreckage for salvage. Either way, we need to deal with them somehow and I am open to suggestions."

Ylva was dragged from her thoughts at Willam's voice. She turned her violet eyes toward him, confusion wrinkling her brow. It was obvious she'd missed something he'd said. As her mouth moved to form her question, Jayec spoke, his voice carrying that biting tone of authority that she usually admired.

"NO!" Ylva barked, the word jumping from her mouth before she'd even thought to speak. There was a brief, heavy silence as her mind finished processing, and then she continued. "No. That shuttle has no defenses. Leave the fighters to Bes'Galaar and the Legion ship. We land and secure that cargo, do you understand?" Ylva's voice carried a note that warned Willam that any misunderstanding would be met with fists.

---

"Hold on, boys. This is gonna be fast and dirty."

Remy pulled back on the throttle almost to the point of stalling the shuttle as he came in to the landing zone outside of the camp. They'd come in hot, of course, and the quick break was necessary to keep them from plowing right into the landing pad. Luckily, what the shuttle lacked in weaponry and shields, it made up for in maneuverability. So, while some of the supports groaned, the Jolly Junior performed what Remy demanded of it and slowed enough to set down, if a bit roughly.

"Get it going!" he shouted back toward the others as he cycled through the post landing checks. He set the engines into a standby mode that would allow them to be ready to lift off again at a moment's notice. He got the feeling that they would need that option. A rip of static on the comms jarred him just as he was about to move back and help the others with the crates.

...incoming. Please advise."

Stomping back over to the controls, Remy keyed the comms. "This is shuttle Jolly Junior, say again."

"This is Ground Control. Shuttle, you've got ten ships inbound on your tail. Are they friendlies? Please advise."

"Ten?" Remy asked, confused. Taking a breath and closing his eyes, he waited a moment then keyed the comms again. "Be advised. We have three friendlies inbound. I repeat, three friendlies. The others are pirates."

"Understood. Support craft are on their way. ETA five minutes."

"Copy. Vital cargo being unloaded now. More will arrive once the situation in orbit is handled."

"Copy that. Ground Control out."

---

"Full power to thrusters." Balso said through his comms. "We've got some catching up to do."

A number of responses chimed back through the comms as the six other ships confirmed and followed their orders. Three of those ships were straight dog fighters; sleek, fast, and packing a hell of a lot of firepower. The other two were more like his ship, formidable enough but with slightly more space for cargo. Looking over his displays, Balso figured that they wouldn't catch the other ships before landing, certainly not the smaller shuttle. He expected the other three ships they were chasing would put up a fight. That was fine. but that shuttle wouldn't be able to do anything against them. That was his prize. Let his fighters take on the other ships.

"Xhong. You're with me." Balso said to the pilot of one of the other roomier ships. "We will set down and commandeer whatever that shuttle has. The rest of you, keep the other ships busy." Affirmative responses sounded back to him as they punched through into the atmosphere.
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