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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Jul 7, 2010 17:31:10 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Jul 7, 2010 17:31:10 GMT -5
Trying not to let his hopes up too much at the surprise he was feeling, the opportunity that might lay hidden in his trousers, Trevil tuned out the others while he investigated further. It wasn't hard, since they all seemed to be focused on themselves and their situation and had seemed to forgotten about him for the moment. All the better; if they spied the optimistic look on his furry face, thinking he had a plan, only to be disappointed... Well, he knew it must have crossed one or two of their minds about the deal gone wrong, the deal he had set up. The Bothan didn't need any more reason for them to be aggrieved at him.
Quietly he pulled his head up off his knees and both paws began patting around his pant leg where he had felt the lump just before. He had completely forgotten about the hidden zippered compartment that the trousers had come with. With all his planet-hopping the last couple years, odd jobs here and there, with a bit of sabacc in between, Trevil had rather slyly (and expensively) gotten a pair of custom pants made for his Bothan body. They had pockets everywhere, some even that were hidden. And he had just felt something in one of them, something rectangular in shape.
Of course, though, this was one of the ones that had something sewed in after being put in, and the only way to open the compartment was to cut it open. In the very direst of circumstances Trevil knew that if anything ever happened to him, he would want some sort of safety net or loophole to aid in his escape. Even if his tools and datapad and blaster (if he was wearing one) were taken from him, he still had an Idiot's Array hidden away in his pants. And with nothing with him except the clothes on his back and the secreted away coin purse, Trevil didn't really have anything with with to open up his pants except his dull claws.
Having gotten used to at a young age to tuning out all extra noise while he was working in his room on his computers, he was pretty oblivious to most of what was going on in the cell around him. He missed when Lash woke up and the consequences of that and Palas being so close to him. He had no idea what Doc and Kess were up to, let along that strange... bug thing and the near-human who seemed to be the spokesbeing for the cell before he and his group had gotten shoved in there.
But he couldn't miss Lash's yell about his boot. It was almost as loud as Palas's high-pitched screaming and yelling from earlier. He made a note to himself then to get his hearing checked out if he ever got out of this place. And still yet distracted on how to get his pants cut open, hoping what he felt in there was his auxiliary in-case-of-emergencies datapad, he caught the conversation between Lash and the strange man.
Unfortunately, though, the outburst from the human pilot had also seemed to snap Palas out of her breakdown and turn her focus onto the Bothan. Even though he knew the accusation would be coming, from her or someone else from the Jewel, it still hurt. He had only been doing what she had asked. He had merely been finding the closest buyer to where the base was so that the Twi'lek captain could offload her spice in the quickest way possible. The Bothan didn't know the Aqualish personally at all. But still... he had set up the deal. It was understandable for her to be feeling this way. Even despite the fact that he had been captured along with her and the rest of the crew should have knocked out any hard feelings. He might be a wanted man and a bank robber, but he wouldn't consciously betray anyone.
Trevil sighed as he tried to compose himself, and to let Palas cool down a bit before he answered her. But whatever he said, he knew it would be a long road to repair whatever relationship he might have had with the Twi'lek. He raised his purple eyes to her, his fur flattening down in submission. "Nothing. Nothing." Trevil sighed and shrugged, another gesture learned from the extended company of humans. "Bona's not my friend. I don't even know him. I don't know what happened. You have to believe me." He stopped then, not knowing what else to say without digging himself a bigger hole.
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Otterling
Still Dutch's Minion
1,557 posts
0 likes
"Like a monkey on the sun, it was just to hot to live."
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last online Dec 25, 2012 18:03:09 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 9, 2010 12:33:52 GMT -5
Post by Otterling on Jul 9, 2010 12:33:52 GMT -5
Doc leaned back against the wall and rolled his head to stare down at where Palas was still screeching in tones that went far outside the normal human range of hearing. His leg and head were throbbing in a steady tempo that met somewhere in the middle of his back and he sucked in a long slow breath as he tried to force the pain away. Of course, that would have been infinitely easier without the constant distraction of his mighty captain flailing about nearby but he did what he could anyway. They would need all the help they could get to escape and Doc hated nothing more than feeling useless. He would not be the old man that slowed them down, not if he could help it, but a sudden muscle spasm in his upper left hip reminded him that he might not have a choice. His leg was still mis-firing, its servos making a whir-click noise in complaint every time he tried to move it. The chip that interpreted his brain’s electrical signals into commands to make the prosthetic limb move was obviously fried as any attempts to get his knee to bend were only half successful. A fact that put the normally surly man into an even more downright dour mood. This was seriously the last thing he needed.
He listened halfheartedly as the man who introduced himself as Tsu spoke up. At least that sort of explained the whole “tsu-witch” comment, though, had Doc’s brain not been trying to claw its way out of his ears, he might have wondered about the “witch” part. As it was he simply lolled his head over to stare at the man still holding a bit of toilet plumbing in his hands.
“I plan on crackin' some heads when we do. Once I find my weapons. And my Droid – Force, is she still going?”
Doc let his head roll back to the other side to look down at where Palas was apparently caught somewhere between an epileptic fit and a desperate attempt to summon space bats through the use of high-pitched squeals of terror. “Yup,” he said with a note of irritation, “This may take a while…”As he stared at Palas, the thought ran through Doc’s head that he could just knock her out again…no one would blame him, right? And it would at least stop the screaming, which, by that point, had reached a lovely crescendo that his headache was echoing. He cared deeply for the girl, a fact he’d never admit, but at that precise moment, his desire for a moment of quiet was starting to outweigh his need to protect her. Fortunately, he didn’t need to follow through as his thoughts were interrupted by a low groan coming from the form buried under the thrashing twi’lek. Doc chuckled under his breath as the pilot sat up right into the fist of the terrified woman. Oh how we wished he had a holocam at that point. Moments like those were the kind he wanted to keep for posterity…and then link into the ship’s main viewports and play on repeat for all to watch. He was pretty sure he would never get tired of seeing Palas hit Lash over and over.
As usual, Lash was a little slow on the uptake and Doc didn’t even bother to answer the barrage of silly questions the young man put forth. He figured the grogginess of being unconscious would wear off soon enough and then Lash would realize where they were and what was going on, not, mind you, that he figured the pilot would be much help regardless. He was amused none the less when Lash finally noticed his missing boot and the creature gnawing on it. Tsu’s comment on the beast kicking in a Bothan’s chest was not missed and Doc quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Really?” he said in a low growl, “well, we DO have a Bothan here if we want to put on a repeat performance.” The Kiffar shot a look of pure annoyance at Yunas, who seemed to be blissfully unaware of the fact that his death was already being plotted.
Doc’s attention was once again pulled toward Palas as the screaming stopped at last. Her voice, when she found it again, had taken on an angry tone and she snapped accusingly at Yunas. In truth, she was simply voicing what they were all feeling. Had the Bothan betrayed them and then found himself betrayed too? The way his fur flattened down was an immediate sign of submission as far as Doc could tell. He’d worked with Bothans in the past and had come to recognize at least some of the body language they used. If Yunas had indeed been in on the whole thing, he was doing a pretty good acting job to cover it. Still, Doc wasn’t willing to be so forgiving, or trusting for that matter, until he was no longer in a world of pain and trapped in a tiny cell.
He turned his eyes back to the man beside him and jerked his head toward the door, a fact he immediately regretted as his throbbing head reminded him what a poor idea it was. “You’ve been in here longer than us,” he grumbled. “Any plan yet for getting out? Guard schedules? Frequency of prisoner transport? Meal times? We need something we can use to get that door open and a plan for getting on the other side once it does.” Years of fighting in a rebellion and being forced to make due with almost nothing had taught Doc how to start thinking on his feet right away once things got bad. As much as he wanted to string Yunas up and skin him alive, it was more important to get out of that cell first. The brutal murder of his shipmate could be plotted out more carefully later.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Jul 9, 2010 21:45:38 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 9, 2010 21:45:38 GMT -5
It was hard to place the odd sound.
Perhaps some animal dying.
Or maybe a bird's squawk.
The noise cresuendoed again. Definitely some animal dying.
The most astonishing thing about the noise, however, is that as it grew louder, and therefore nearer, one could make out that the howl was made of streams of actual words.
These words, as a matter of fact, were a mingled mangle of Basic exclamations and Huttese curses.
"Schutta!" Came the scream. "Don't you--"
"Shut up!" Growled one of the guards. "Or I'll knock you into dream-land."
"Please! Do!" growled the voice. "I would much rather be unconscious, than to stare at your face any longer."
A chuckle followed by a grunt -- a second guard getting his just desserts.
A group of figures rounded the corner, finally revealing the source of that very strange noise. A female Gungan. Truth is stranger than fiction.
"This is outrageous! No way to treat a business owner!" Another stream of curses. It appeared that the Gungan was stun-cuffed, walking forward only reluctantly and earning more than one shove from the guard. "You people wanted your parcel! I brought your parcel! I was given explicit instructions not to open it, I DID NOT OPEN IT. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE KRIFF IT IS. I am a decent person! A DECENT PERSON! Any idiot would look at the seal, and know it had not been broken!" She paused to say a few very nasty things about the guards' collective mothers.
"But what do you people do? YOU SHOOT THE KRIFFING MESSENGER. I told your boss, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE SHVITH IS IN THAT THING. There is no reason to detain me! NO REASON!"
The guards, three in all, bore weary expressions, which implied that the Gungan had been at this for some time. Another stream of huttese curses flew from between her teeth, and the second guard laughed again -- this time, he dodged the first's consequential thwap. At first glance, it seemed that only four had entered the hall -- but a closer glance would reveal five. Bounding care-free behind the three guards, at a respectful distance, was a big-eyed Gizka. They had tried to detail the small amphibian, but failed miserably. Once they'd realized the only thing they were going to get from the slippery Gizka was a bit of humiliation, they let him be -- hopefully, the master's Kath hounds would get to him. As it turned out, he conveniently followed his master, and didn't cause any trouble, so they let him be.
The prisoner was halted in front of a cell, and the first guard went to deactivate her stun cuffs. Sure, this frog could curse up a storm, but what threat did she really pose? They'd taken her staff away, so why bother stunning her, had been their reasoning. After having met her fury, they were beginning to regret that choice. Even so, what harm could she do?
They were about to find out. As soon as the stun-cuffs were off, she grabbed the wrists of the man behind her, and used him as an anchor point, pushing back against him to snap her feet up to her chest.
Glem possessed little upper-body strength, which is why she was often over-looked. However, her legs were a different story. Gungan legs were built for swimming, leaping, and best of all -- kicking. And that is exactly what she did to the second guard. Both feet lashed out, hitting him square in the chest. The man reeled backwards, breath knocked out of him. The first guard, similarly surprised by Glem's sudden action, didn't gain his wits fast enough to stop her from pushing forward. Feet on the ground, hands free, she turned to sprint--
And then her feet weren't on the ground anymore. The third guard, much larger, much stronger than the other two, seemed to have been biding his time, letting the other two get kicked around by some weak-boned female.
He'd grabbed her around the base of the neck and lifted her in the air. Glem did not take kindly to such treatment. She began to kick and scrabble and scratch. The dark green sheen on her thick, sharp nails was not for show -- it contained a mild poison, an irritant. Her nails dug into the guard's arms, but they seemed to perturb him little more than a rat's scratches bothered a steadfast child. He'd feel it later, though, Glem thought with satisfaction. Those scratches would sting up a storm.
But for now, all her scrabbling and scratching did nothing to get her free, and the victory was basically null. The two guards recovered, though they looked quite embarrassed, and leveled their stun-blasters at the whirring energy field.
The shield went down, Glem was tossed unceremoniously in, the Gizka leaped hastily behind her, and the shield went up.
That was that.
There'd be no escaping now, not for quite some time.
Glem was cursing again even before she was on her feet, yelling a hundred and one obscenities. To her ire, the energy field seemed to muffle sound, as her words echoed around the cell, but were ignored by the offended guards. They began to walk away.
Glem pushed herself to the corner of the cell closest to them, and continued screaming, pounding her fist against the wall, as doing so to the energy field would be just plain stupid. When the guards disappeared from view, she turned her fury to the wall, pounding her fists against it.
Captivity.
Glem absolutely could not let that word make it through her skull, so she turned her fear to fury, and continued pounding the wall.
Finally, she ran out of words.
Now, this was the point at which the protagonist is expected to slide down the wall, fury dissolving to the tears, in a moment of sympathetic vulnerability.
First of all, Glem did not consider herself any protagonist. Second of all, if she actually accepted the reality of where she was, she'd be doing a lot more than crying. So it was settled.
One last curse. One last fist to the wall, where it stayed. Glem stared at the stone. Sighed. Crossed her arms.
She turned to observe the cell. Stone walls. One latrine, one sink. One roommate.
One Gizka. Greek was his name, and he was smart for a Gizka, but that wasn't really saying much. He hadn't really figured the energy field for any sort of obstacle, and after having observed the room's lack of food, he thought exploration was in order.
Glem watched as the Gizka hopped casually towards the energy field, and then through it.
That's what Greek had expected, anyway. As soon as his nose touched the field, his body lurched backwards, a few sparks flying as the Gizka's limbs splayed everywhere. He ended up on his back, a good four feet from the energy field, all four of his limbs awkwardly splayed, making the two small forelimbs, a mutation that separated him from your average Gizka, clearly visible.
A few wisps of black smoke floated up from his nose.
Glem chuckled. She was unconcerned. Having been owner of the little Gizka for several years now, she was always surprised by his audacity and his indestructibility. She was pretty sure he could survive a nuclear fallout.
"Oh Greek, look at us," she peered around the cell again. "Livin' in the lap of luxury. No refuse in the corners, no dirt floors. This one even has overhead lights and a latrine. Well aren't we flattered, going to such lengths for our accommodations." She eyed the blue man. "Though, I might file a complaint about the roommate."
Glem's words might seem simply sarcastic, simply an odd wit. On the outside, that's all they were. But if one knew of Glem's story, they gained much more significance. They told just how desperately she was trying to avoid the memory.
All slaves had sob stories. All slaves hated their memories. All slaves thought they lived in Hell.
Glem had.
The rank stench of refuse had only ever been clear of her nose when she was presented to the master, to be flaunted and abused. The master had been a Force-user. He had thrown her and shoved her in a way her eyes could not see, her ears could not hear, her skin could not feel. That sort of abuse did terrible things to the mind. She had lived in filth and grime, her whole world contained within rusted iron bars. It's where she'd learned to swear, learned to fight, learned to hate herself. It's where she'd been broken.
Glem did not fear captivity. She feared being broken again. So she turned that fear to fury, to protect herself from it. (The other perk of that being that when she was scared, her accent came back; when she was angry, she spoke perfect basic.)
She desired no pity. She'd made something of herself since then. She had a business. She was a courier, one of the best, in her opinion. She had credits, property to her name, and she'd taken care of, provided for her pet, the Gizka, for years now.
But what if one person, one client could take all of that away from her? Glem could try to live in denial. For a time, she could hide the fear with snide comments, and occupy herself by being generally offended to the world. But how long would it last?
Someone who truly knew Glem would have seen it now. Seen that tint of fear behind her Violet eyes, and understood the defensive set of her shoulders, the restless tic of her knee. But Glem had no friends. She was all alone.
She told herself she liked it that way. She lied.
For the first time since her client had revealed his intentions to lock her up, she was silent. Silent and still. It afforded one a better look at her.
Humanoid, of course, as all Gungans were -- and an Otolla, which made her body dense and lean. Her lilac skin moved like wet paper, but despite appearances, was hardly fragile. It still retained a vaguely moist look. Her palms, the underside of her chin, and the tips of her haillu were a subtly contrasting orange. She wore a sleeve-less blouse and a pair of ratty canvas pants, cut-off at the knee. These were not hers. Oh no they were not. Her pants were covered in pockets, filled with a thousand useful things! She'd refused to empty those pockets. Didn't they know how much work it had taken her to organize everything?! So they ended up taking her pants, and scrounged up the decency to give her the remnant of an old uniform. Her garb obscured some, but not all, of her tattoos.
Dark purple, and with an inky sheen, the Tattoos were something Glem hated. Loathed. Guiltily loved. Her master had given them to her. Every day, she was reminded of who she had been. Who she was. Something in her mind would always consider herself a slave.
They were beautiful, though -- the swirling patterns that arced and twirled, and curved back upon themselves, lines of varying thickness, feminine and elegant. The back of her calves, her lower arms, and the back of her haillu all wore the purple ink.
Her build was certainly feminine, certainly shapely enough. There was an aquatic elegance to her construction. Some humanoids found an exotic beauty in her face. At the very least, she wasn't ugly, as most stereotypes liked to accuse her species of being.
She walked towards her roommate with an assessing sort of posture. Her movements weren't jerky or jumpy, as the stereotype again suggested -- rather, they were quick. Decisive. Slick.
She sized him up, in such a way that what she was doing was obvious. Black hair, icy blue skin. Golden eyes. Not as much color as a Gungan, but more than a human. Satisfactory. Glem figured by the way he set himself that he'd been around the block a few times, and then some. Overall, she was satisfied by two things. One, he was -- at the very least -- not as bad looking as the cell. Two, he seemed to be intelligent enough to catch a clue, and leave her alone when she wanted to be left kriffin' alone.
By this time, Greek had recovered from his learning experience, and had hopped over to nuzzle, sniff, and prod the gold-eyed man.
"Don't worry," Glem said, in a voice slightly hoarse from -- but much more pleasant than -- her previous yelling. "He doesn't bite through bone." Actually, Greek wouldn't bite anything unless he thought it was food. Maybe she'd get lucky and he'd mistake this guy's fingers for dinner. Speaking of which...
"This place have room service? I'm starving." Her sarcasm made it clear that the question was far from sincere. The sentiment of her hunger, however, was not.
Considering that they might be detained for a very long time, Glem developed a contingency plan. It was flawless.
Eat the blue guy before he ate her Gizka.
Simple as that.
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.:Falcon:.
Lvl. 38 Gum Bandit
486 posts
0 likes
*Insert catchy title here*
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last online Dec 31, 2015 10:49:17 GMT -5
Knight
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Jul 21, 2010 22:52:28 GMT -5
Post by .:Falcon:. on Jul 21, 2010 22:52:28 GMT -5
Throughout the myriad dramas being played out in the cell around- or rather, in front of- her, Kess had remained a statue. On some limited level, the high-pitched keening of somehong very loud reached her ears, but it wasn't enough to warrant her attention. Scrunched as far as possible into the corner, nothing but the hiss of slightly quickened breath indicated she was still alive. She had learned to be still, to be invisible, and she was good at it.
What finally pulled her halfway out of her semi-unconcious state was Lash's voice. Lash. Quite possibly the first person to actually be nice to her just because he could, not because she was there or because she belonged to so-and-so. Her eyes dragged from the wall opposite her, to Palas, who was sitting on the floor, to the Bothan, then finally to Lash.
Was he missing a shoe?
Kess's eyes widened justslightly at that, but then the atmosphere in the cell changed yet again. Now Palas was yelling. Kess flinched and shifted away from the Twi'lek. The woman was yelling at the Bothan, it appeared. Kess looked away, up at Doc then back at Lash. Her mind was still only half-there. The rest was floating off somewhere in a better place, far from bars and guards and captivity...in the stars, the beautiful stars...
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Jenno
Still glorious, but no longer your leader.
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last online Nov 5, 2019 10:09:22 GMT -5
Master
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Jul 25, 2010 10:57:18 GMT -5
Post by Jenno on Jul 25, 2010 10:57:18 GMT -5
Their cell was brimming with life now that the prisoners were all conscious, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. There was a lot of confusion and uncertainty emanating from the expressions and words uttered by the occupants of the small room. Lash was doing his best to contribute with his outburst towards the giant bug and his snack-sized shoe. The other stranger in the room spoke to him after his response, recalling an anecdote involving the bug that was currently munching on his boot and how the creature had apparently kicked in someone’s chest.
Looking at the long-haired stranger as the man told his tale, Lash paused in thought for a moment, turned to face the large creature who seemed to be oblivious to the people around them as it chewed on its treasure. “Huh,” Lash uttered in the light of this story and he paused again, slowly moving his gaze from the bug to his boot-less foot and then back. “On second thoughts, it looks like he’s enjoying it more than I ever did. Wouldn’t want to upset him now would we?” He tried to smile a little bit, though it was a bit weak and didn’t hide the true reasoning behind his sudden change of heart regarding his boot. The image of getting kicked by a giant bug was not very appealing to the skinny little pilot, nor was it a mental image he thought he would ever experience. This trip to Taris was not going well for him so far.
It seemed like the confusion from his recent return to conscious was beginning to dissipate, allowing Lash’s cowardly, survival-instinctive nature to return to him. There were very few things he would risk his life for, most of them only if he was drunk, and a boot was certainly not on the list. Tearing his gaze away from the large creature, the pilot took a few uneven steps closer to the stranger and Doc, who seemed to be friendly with one another. Well, to Lash it seemed friendly since he hadn’t heard the Doc shoot a barrage of insults at this Tsubasa yet.
“Oh, escape plans, my favourite” he said as he came to a halt, catching the last of the Doc’s words. Of course, with such plans came a fairly large risk, to combat such an obvious threat Lash would make sure to do as little as possible and to make sure he used any trigger-happy people as a shield. He just needed to get to a ship and he’d be fine, then he could make his escape, even if it meant leaving the others behind in the dust. After all, he supposed this was it now, wasn’t it? The spice would be gone, out of their hands and Greegar would find out, he had his ways. The space-slug would likely still harbour ill-feeling towards him, Palas and the Jewel of the ‘want them dead’ variety. Wouldn’t it be best to make a run? After all, it’s not like Jewel was going anywhere at an inspirational rate, it’s not like it really could given the state it was in.
He wasn’t sure, the feelings were there telling him to use the people present to break out of the cell, find a ship and make a break on his own. But there was something about the Jewel, despite all of the issues that had been in the way recently with the spice incident, he actually quite enjoyed it. Apart from the beatings Palas gave him, those he could do without. He would have to decide soon, but first of all they still needed to get out of their cage, if it was even possible for this raggedy group of rejects.
Now in a closer proximity to both Doc and Tsubasa, Lash could see the old man struggling with his mechanical leg and the occasional bursts of pain which made his body and face twitch. He remained quiet about it but Lash just about managed to pick up on some of the involuntary movements. The thought never really crossed his mind about how he’d kicked up such a fuss about losing a shoe when the Doc had said nothing about the robotic leg that was no longer functioning properly. Instead, of course, he chose to be his normal self. “You know old man, as much as I love you, I’m not going to be carrying you when it comes time to escape. Assuming we can even get out of this place to begin with.” He looked around the cell briefly, not holding much confidence. They’d barely escaped past situations and he doubted the addition of some long-haired stranger and shoe-obsessed bug would really make much of a difference to their chances.
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Silas
Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken
742 posts
10 likes
Lord of the Morning, I have come for you!
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last online Jun 24, 2023 23:32:54 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jul 26, 2010 2:45:20 GMT -5
Post by Silas on Jul 26, 2010 2:45:20 GMT -5
What was that? Ronan thought to himself as a noise came to his ears. It got louder, and curiously it got louder; to the point wherein he could make out words. What he had thought to be some kind of the deranged cries of a distressed animal was just that.
Off in the distance came a creature, he could just barely make out what it was. However, he could hear the creature’s curses and wails as it was pulled through the hall quite forcibly. Despite his initial thought of some weak, unable creature who was throwing a rather large fit, this thing which looked much like a half frog, half man abomination drug its feet the entire way to the cell.
The Ferroan had never seen such a creature before, and he couldn’t say that he was enlightened by the experience either; in fact he thought it might have been suitable if he had never lived this experience. With a shake of his head he could only look in slight admiration for the effort, and slight annoyance at the sound the creature made. It was obviously amphibious, and the amount of leg strength which it possessed seemed to just amplify that, but he’d only just begun roaming the galaxy, and this thing was certainly not something he’d seen before.
Some grotesque, hideous form of a language emitted from his mouth quite crudely. It shouted about many things with quite a colourful vocabulary, but Ronan caught onto something rather quickly; he didn’t open the package. Whether the bounty hunter had wanted to know about that information or not, it wasn’t really his issue right now, for the creature had already shouted it so that anyone in the whole cell might hear them. Some of the things which might have passed off for words sounded like a slurred mess of a speech therapist’s worst nightmare.
However, no matter if he’d wanted to ignore the creature or not; there was simply not the option to pretend it wasn’t there. Its screams probably couldn’t be cut off by cortosis. It was angry, and when it came to just seconds before it might be thrown in there with him; the damn thing attacked once more. It flailed about with quite the vigour, but it was soon thrown in like a heap of trash. Perhaps it was a coincidence, but Ronan thought the adjective might fit quite well.
After her, followed what he found more curious then the creature before it. A small four legged creature that bounded behind the taller one like a pup. It was very small, and as it hopped around he knew it could be no more than just a companion pet; it would provide no protection.
Ronan all but ignored the continued screams of this odd alien which had found itself in a corner, beating the wall quite furiously. Still remaining silent, he simply sighed. It was a waste of energy, and time. Not like they had any other ways to use it, but still, the Ferroan was quite content on sitting, brooding, and waiting for his time to escape. It would come soon, everyone made mistakes, and when these guards did the bounty hunter would be the first to exploit it. Next time, though, he would not be worried about killing them; the moment they let him he would kill any that got in his way. Too many had just flitted right past him, and the chances had slipped through his fingers. Now he had little hope of getting out soon, but still he clung to it, for it was all he had at the moment.
Finally the wails stopped, and the creature slowed down for a second. Soon there were much more discernable words which came from her, “Oh Greek, look at us."
Sarcasm was thick in its voice, which he could not tack a gender to, but it did reveal one thing to him. Greek, either it was talking to itself, Ronan, or the little creature which had just recovered from a face full of the energy field in front of him. Obviously it wasn’t talking to itself; it might be crazy, but he doubted it was that crazy. If it was talking about Ronan, he would probably strangle it for coming up with such a hideous name for him. So, he could only hope that it was talking about the little creature. Greek did fit him; much more than it did the Ferroan, so he would assume for right now that this was the thing’s name.
Now it got up, and turned around so that the man could get a good look at her. He too stood up and he decided it was surely a woman. While some men of different species might look more femininely than others, this one definitely seemed like a female. Hopefully it wouldn’t take offense if he was wrong. However, while he sized her up, she sized him up in a much more noticeable manner. It wasn’t subtle; she just seemed to asses him.
Seconds later the littler thing noticed him, and began to hop towards Ronan. Once this thing he was now calling Greek came close enough he knelt down, and tried to pet it. However, it just sniffed his hand, and became uninterested in that particular part of the man. With a sigh he stood back up, and let it go about sniffing.
"He doesn't bite through bone," The woman assured him, as the little creature poked around. It certainly did seem hungry, and he’d have to be sure to feed it if he ever got any food. So far he liked it far better than the other. It was quiet, at least.
With a small chuckle he simply ignored the woman, and her sarcasm. While it was a little funny, he would give her props for taking this better than he thought she would from the first little tantrum she threw. Ronan still wouldn’t forgive her for that god-awful noise she made when she first came, though. The man just couldn’t bring himself to it. Not yet, at least.
“I’m not too afraid of it, however I’m kind of confused as to what it is... what you are.” He muttered softly as he walked a little closer towards the shield, making sure not to step on the little thing.
Upon her mention of food, he was brought back to just how hungry he really was, and wished desperately that they might send something to eat before too long. Surely they wouldn’t let them starve. If they did, the woman was going first, that was for sure. She would probably taste like fish anyway, and he thought you could eat those raw, so he wouldn’t even need to cook it. Greek might be a little upset, however.
“They might feed you some table scraps once they’re done,” He responded to her, behind him as he looked out. Slowly his eyes roved around the cell with a bit of curiosity. Maybe, just maybe she could help him escape with that little idea. Eventually food had to be served, and he just wondered how much they would secure them when this happened. There would be few times to escape, but when he did, they had to be ready for it. As much as he might not like it, he’d have to get her help; he sincerely doubted he could do it on his own.
With a slight pause he looked out towards a guard way in the distance as he sized him up, and thought about a good way to get his weapon. Soon he would be prey to the man, and he’d have to play the prisoner for a while as Ronan took his turn as warden. A shadow of a smile crossed his face as he thought of this, of being home once more.
Slowly his head turned around to face the woman, “How much do you want out of here?”
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 28, 2010 14:57:17 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 28, 2010 14:57:17 GMT -5
"Ah, smart man," Tsu said with a wry smirk and an amused twinkle in his eyes when Lash came to the conclusion that it might not be in his best interests to try to get the boot back from Ruck. "I mean just look at those two," he went on, gesturing toward the giant roach and his newfound friend, "they make such a good couple. I'd hate to see them split apart." Then he looked back to Lash, still grinning, the two long strands of hair that hung down either side of his face and over his chest swaying gently from the motion. "Just like I'd hate to see what his foot could do to your chest. Or the mess that might come after that."
Of course, there were more things going on in the little prison than talks of Lash and his lost boot. Tsu knew this group was together, of course, but there seemed to be some ill-will that a number of them harbored towards a Bonthan. Doc's line about Ruck kicking his chest in was a big enough clue to that, as was Palas' not-so-subtle accusation of... betrayal or something. He didn't know the situation; as such, he decided it would be wise to avoid that particular topic of conversation altogether.
Instead, he turned his attention to Doc's question. Tsu was glad to know he wasn't the only one that was thinking about the subject that came up.
Escape.
"I haven't been here too much longer than you, honestly," he said, casually dropping the faucet that Ruck broke. He leaned back against the wall and sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "And I've been out for most of it. But, from what I can tell," he dropped his voice down to near whisper and motioned for Doc and Lash to come in closer, "those three guards outside our cell are the ones that stay in here with us. Every now and then a few more will come in to check up on things, or one will switch out with another, but I haven't been in here long enough to get a feel for any particular schedule.
"But getting past them won't be hard, even if they have a few more friends with them once we get out." Tsu snorted and a small grin that could only be called malicious touched his face. "Hell, I could handle them myself if need be; the extra numbers that you guys bring should be more than enough to deal with them.
"It's the getting out that might be the hard part. Other than when they came in to let you lot in and to make Ruck that offer, they haven't opened the containment field. And after Ruck kicked in the aforementioned Bonthan's chest, I don't think they plan on doing it again anytime soon. So, if either of you or any of your partners have an idea, now would be the time."
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Meira
She don't mess around
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Jul 29, 2010 19:17:50 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jul 29, 2010 19:17:50 GMT -5
Palas furrowed her brow suspiciously at the Bothan as he offered his response. The words tugged at the part of her brain that still harbored some trust in him. Maybe he was innocent. And even if he wasn't, could the fact that he himself had been betrayed be enough to allow him some small bit of forgiveness? No. Palas couldn't trust Yunas anymore... at least not until he'd proven himself somehow. She wasn't exactly sure what his penance would be, but if Yunas wanted back into Palas' good graces, he'd have to earn it.
She offered little more than a snort in response to the Bothan's plea for understanding. She then resorted to refusing to look at him. This of course left few options of where to look in the cell, especially if she wanted to avoid looking at the... Her eyes found Kess, huddled in a corner.
Palas' heart sank as she looked at the girl. What had she gotten Kess into? She might have been a slave on Tatooine, but this couldn't be any better. She'd only been under Palas' care for a short time, but in that time her life had been threatened twice, and now she was likely to be put right back into slavery... and at the hands of drug dealers. That was definitely worse than a junk dealer.
Standing, and being sure not to move in a way that would take her any closer to the bug, Palas crossed over toward Kess and kneeled down in front of her. For a moment, Palas didn't know what to say or do. She resorted to placing her hands on Kess' shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.
I'm so sorry, Kess. I don't know what I've done to you. But I promise, I will do everything I can to get you out of here. You hear me?
Palas rotated and sat down next to Kess so that her back was leaning against the wall. She let her head lean back too. Her lekku still throbbed slightly from when they'd been pulled in the cantina. She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could hear Doc and Lash speaking with the stranger about escape. Good. She thought, resolving to join their talks in a moment when her head wasn't pounding quite as hard.
Outside the cell, there was a commotion. Shrill cries and a couple of curses. Apparently another prisoner was being brought in. Palas looked around the cell, wondering just how another being was going to fit in with them. But it seemed that, whoever it was, they were destined for another cell. Palas wondered just how many enemies this crime boss had accumulated lately that he could afford to lock so many up. Whatever the case, it was time to figure something out.
Palas pushed herself up off the floor. It was time to work, plan, whatever. She stepped over to where Doc and Lash had huddled with the stranger and cleared her throat.
Pala'shak. She said, sticking out her hand for the man to shake. She'd heard him mention that he could handle the guards himself. Even if he was just boasting, numbers did seem like they would be on their side. She was more concerned with what would happen IF they got out and IF they got past the guards here. There would be more. And this building was unfamiliar. It could be a death trap if they didn't know where they were going. Do you know this place at all? I don't want to be busting out if we just end up getting lost in a maze.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
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the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Aug 18, 2010 2:17:09 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Aug 18, 2010 2:17:09 GMT -5
(((Sorry! Didn't realize it was my turn again.)))
Trevil almost sighed in relief when all the response he got from Palas was a snort and then her turned back. But he remained quiet, keeping his fur matted down in a submissive posture. No need to show his feelings right now. Just because she had decided not to press the issue with him right now didn't mean she wouldn't later. He just had to be satisfied with the respite he had at the moment. Glad that she and the others seemed to be focused on other things at the moment.
He turned back to his trousers, again trying to figure out a way to get them open to reach the datapad, snippets of conversation reaching his brown furred ears. Lash had joined Doc and the strange man, and he heard the word 'escape' more than once. Well, so they were all thinking the same thing, it seemed. Only no one appeared to have any concrete plans as of yet. Perhaps if he could get his datapad out in time, he would be able to help. And perhaps just vindicate himself in the process.
Ignoring the speculation of how to get out of the cell for the moment, and trying not to look in the way of the giant bug... thing, Trevil the Bothan turned his entire intelligence on his decided task at hand. No knife, obviously. The guards wouldn't have allowed them any weapons. Hell, they had even taken his other, more obvious datapad which wasn't much of a weapon. He was just thankful that he had disguised his backup one enough, as well as he had disguised his money pouch full of the credits he had won back on Tatooine. Maybe those credits would come in handy as well, though he would be hard-pressed to part with them.
Laying his head in his hand, he sighed then. Amusedly thinking that his parents would stare at him, acting so much like a human and so less that as a Bothan. If one ignored his short stature, equine-like face and furry brown body, he basically was a human. Except in Bothan form. His violet eyes glazed over a bit as he stared at his hand, which was more like a paw than a real hand. It went blurry as he racked his brain for some way, some item or utensil to rip open his pants to the secret compartment. He had long since tossed the idea of asking someone else in the cell. If he had no weapons, neither did they. Plus, he was too proud to ask if someone could please rip open his trousers for him. It was embarrassing.
By now he vaguely noticed in the back part of his brain that Palas had joined the little escape planning committee. And then his eyes focused back on his hand as he removed it from his head. Earlier he had dismissed them as not sharp enough. Though dulled by misuse from fiddling with electronic equipment, playing sabacc and his various odd jobs over the past couple of years, he did have claws, small ones. Perhaps if he could... Well, it was worth a try. What other choice did he have? With a glance at the others, satisfied they were keeping busy among themselves, he raised his largest finger and starting scratching at the leg of his pants, hoping that his pants weren't very well made.
Careful not to damage the datapad itself, he worked feverishly, hoping to open enough of a gap to slide it out, or to get a claw in to better rip it out. Trevil bent over and used both his hands to work at his trousers. Finally he heard a wonderful sound, a small screech as he finally got through the threads and opened up a hole near the datapad's pocket. Digging a finger into the opening, he pulled and the fabric gave way, widening the gap. Success! His ears perked up, and his fur rustled in his excitement. A sudden thought came to him, and he turned his back to the entrance to the cell, wary that the guards might come walking by and catch him with his prize.
The datapad came out, and he now had a gaping hole in his trousers on his left thigh. He tapped away on it, to make sure it actually worked. It flicked on immediately. The device didn't have as much information on it as his main one did, but it did have a good share of his hacking software and wireless access to the Holonet. As well as a couple games for boredom alleviation. Most of all, it was a possible way out of this cell, and out of Palas's vornskyr house.
First things first, though. Trevil knew he wasn't much of a planner, and even though he had come up with a possible savior, he didn't know in the least how exactly it would be helpful in escaping. And so he would have to join the others and face Palas. With a grunt and a groan, he slowly stood up, panting a bit with the exertion and feeling the painful bruises garnered from sitting where he was. After a moment's pause, he gathered himself and walked slowly to where Palas and Doc were talking with the human-looking being whose cell they had come to occupy. Clearing his throat he spoke up, "Sorry to interrupt, but maybe I could help?" The Bothan held up his datapad, careful to keep his fur flattened, but letting a little hope to settle into his ears and eyes.
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Otterling
Still Dutch's Minion
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"Like a monkey on the sun, it was just to hot to live."
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last online Dec 25, 2012 18:03:09 GMT -5
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Sept 11, 2010 23:59:59 GMT -5
Post by Otterling on Sept 11, 2010 23:59:59 GMT -5
((OOC: Holy crappola am I late on this. I'm so sorry!! Sometimes you guys might have to poke me if I miss my turn. I didn't even know it was my go. O__O))
If Doc’s mood had been dour before, it sank to something closer to homicidal at Lash’s carelessly tossed out comment. “Well I love you too, Lash” he growled sarcastically, “but until you make me an honest man and walk me down the aisle, you are not ^$&*&%^# carrying me. And if you even think about trying, I swear to you I will develop sudden bladder control issues.” Doc meant it too. He was NOT above urinating on his teammate since wetting oneself in his opinion was a sight better than the humiliation of being carted around like a sack of potatoes. He shot a warning glance at the young pilot and shuffled a precautionary step farther away from him in case the lunatic actually considered taking said suicidal course of action.
Once satisfied that Lash had indeed only been joking, Doc turned his attention back to their newfound friend. The man was a strange one, of that there was no doubt, but Doc had been in some pretty odd situations before this and he’d been around long enough not to let appearances or first impressions mar his opinion of someone too much. Tsu seemed intelligent enough considering the company that the Jewel usually picked up so at least the kiffar could be grateful for that small favor. He listened intently to Tsu’s information and rubbed one calloused hand over the thick growth of stubble on his face. “I think I might have an idea for that but it'll be uglier than Lash's panties,” he said quietly, his eyes flicking between Palas and Kess. Palas, he decided, would be better equipped mentally to handle what he had planned but Kess would make the more tempting bait for the guards. Either way, he’d need to talk it over with the others before any final plan could be set into action.
Doc watched as Palas slipped up from her position on the floor and made her way to the young slave girl’s side. Kess’s mind was going to be a mess if they didn’t get her out of there soon and as he watched the girl turn wide, terrified eyes on their captain, Doc knew he couldn’t use Kess for his plans. He doubted she’d ever recover if she didn’t feel she could trust them and her mind wasn’t in a place that would allow her to truly understand what was going on. NO, he thought bitterly to himself, I will NOT start collecting these pathetic souls like lost puppies. That’s how my heart got broken before. Hard luck cases and sad eyes. Not again. He turned resolutely from the sight of Palas and Kess sitting side by side. Some small part of him, the frail and long since shriveled part that had become a doctor in the first place, cried out to protect them both but Doc was having none of it. He had a hard enough time dealing with his unwilling affections for Palas, he’d be damned if he was going to wind up chasing after anyone else. He’d wiped quite enough snotty noses and done enough taking care of people, thank you very much, and he wasn’t about to start giving a damn about them now. At least…that what he was adamantly telling himself.
His thoughts were interrupted by the animalistic screeching of something out in the hallway. Doc turned his head toward the shimmering door of their cell and watched with interest as a strange alien creature and what appeared to be its pet were hauled past them and apparently tossed into the cell next door. At least they weren’t going to have to deal with the addition of more people in their tiny holding area for the moment. If they tried to shove anyone else in there, Doc was beginning to worry he’d be sitting in someone’s lap before long. Doc turned from the door in time to see Palas making her way over to their small huddle. It was a relief to see her up and moving about again, acting like the captain she was instead of the terrified young woman who had awoken to the giant space bug. Doc shot her a gruff but well intentioned nod as she approached. It was his subtle way of letting her know he approved of her coming back to her senses since he would never come right out and just say it. Palas was the only one of the crew who he couldn’t pretend he didn’t care about. He’d never let anyone else know that, especially not Palas herself if he could hide it, but he had to admit it at least to his own soul. It pained him to think of her hurting or being in danger.
Doc mulled over his plan a few more times as he watched the group make their introductions to one another but before he could even voice it, Yunas was standing and moving in their direction. The medic narrowed his eyes at the bothan as he approached. Either this guy was a complete moron or he REALLY wanted to commit suicide, Doc thought. He was surprised when the furry creature brought forth a datapad though and his shock was evident on the grizzled old face. Where had…? Doc’s paranoid nature reared its head at the sight of this sudden change in fortunes. How had the bothan managed to get in with this datapad? Why hadn’t it been taken like everything else? Or was this just some trap to lead them into even more trouble? Had Yunas led them into this and let himself be ‘captured’ just so he could then play hero and lead them trustingly out in and right into a bigger trap? What kind of idiot did the bothan really think he was? Doc’s mistrust was written as clear as day over his face as Yunas presented his offering up. “How convenient,” he snarled, “so did they let you keep that or can I expect to find a whole electronics warehouse up there the next time I do a prostate exam on you?”
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.:Falcon:.
Lvl. 38 Gum Bandit
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*Insert catchy title here*
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last online Dec 31, 2015 10:49:17 GMT -5
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Sept 12, 2010 21:52:40 GMT -5
Post by .:Falcon:. on Sept 12, 2010 21:52:40 GMT -5
Kess was still in a netherworld of feelings at the moment. Her eyes were locked on the huge bug-like creature at the other end of the cell. In some perverse way, she felt the extraordinary desire to touch it. She wondered what it felt like. Probably better than the stone behind her. But then again, the rock was safe. It wouldn't move or crush her or hurt her. Kess felt a hand land on her shoulder. Her eyes sluggishly moved over, and met Palas' eyes. The purple Twi'lek said something about getting her out of this mess.
Kess wanted to speak to her, wanted to tell her there was little hope of that, but she hoped against hope it was true, in fact she even got her mouth open...but then couldn't find words. As the Captain sat down next to her, Kess shut her mouth and looked back down at her knees. She was getting a bit cramped, but didn't dare stretch out. Being small, being invisible, meant safety. It meant they'd blame the others for things.
Kess' attention was drawn by more shouting, once again in a language unfamiliar to the former slave. It was high-pitched and angry, and Kess instinctively shifted away from the sound. As it faded away under the influence of a door being slammed next to them, Palas got up and went over to the knot of people created by Lash, Doc, and one of the former inmates of the cell. They were apparently trying to formulate a plan of escape. Kess rested her chin on her knees, her wide, dark eyes flitting from face to face in the group. Hoping.
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Kella
Fire and Blood
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Sept 25, 2010 20:52:51 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Sept 25, 2010 20:52:51 GMT -5
“I’m not too afraid of it, however I’m kind of confused as to what it is... what you are.”
Greek, rejected, quickly lost interest in both the shield and the blue humanoid, and hopped back over to his master. Glem sunk to a crouch to pet the little amphibian. He cooed.
"You'd think he'd never seen an Otolla Gungan courier with a pet mutant Gizka before," she said to Greek. "He must be very poorly traveled."
Glem looked up at the humanoid. He was examining something on the opposite side of the shield, obviously thinking. As he began to turn towards her, she knew he was chewing something over in his mind.
"How much do you want to get out of here?"
"You have no idea." She stood and looked at him square, and it became clear that she'd be willing to try just about anything. "But first," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "I need to know your name, so when your plan fails and I die, with my last breath, I can say 'Damn you, insert-name-here', and my soul may rest in peace."
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Jenno
Still glorious, but no longer your leader.
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last online Nov 5, 2019 10:09:22 GMT -5
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Nov 7, 2010 8:37:24 GMT -5
Post by Jenno on Nov 7, 2010 8:37:24 GMT -5
Tsubasa’s words formed a very sharp reminder of why it was best not to antagonise the large bug that sat huddled in the corner of the cell, enjoying his very own helping of pilot boot. The image of such a large creature kicking through someone’s chest was quickly followed by one of Doc with intense bladder control issues. Lash found it hard to discern which thought was more horrific but quickly tried to focus his mind on nicer things like the depths of space, corellian ale and flowers.
Palas moved to join the fray and Doc had settled enough for him to partake more in the inevitable discussion ahead of them. Of course, this did not prevent the old doctor from making a few quick jabs at the innocent pilot of their assembly. Lash furrowed his brows and looked somewhat absentmindedly into the centre of the group. Joking insults such as that rarely made an impact upon him. He usually took them all in his stride and marched onward. But now that his face had a gaze of such focus on it, it seemed as though he was about to answer all the questions of life. He turned to the old sage to his side, his gaze wandering past the kiffar, “But I don’t wear any-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes fluttering up as if he were attempting to look at the thoughts which drifted around in his mind.
Suddenly, lightning stuck and he stopped his scholarly mind from searching for an answer, his eyes focused on the people around him, jumping between them for a moment. “Actually, never mind... you were saying?” He dropped his shoulders, shrinking in presence. Perhaps it was not the best idea to finish that sentence. The scrutiny that likely would have followed was not something Lash particularly wanted to walk into, especially with Doc and Palas present.
The group’s talking was quickly becoming more and more hushed as they turned their thoughts and words towards plans of escape. Of course, Lash could not recall ever being in such a situation before. Sure, he’d been dragged to see Greegar every now and again but at least the slime ball was courteous enough to avoid throwing him in a cell like this. He didn’t really have anything constructive to add to this conversation, but then again, since when had that ever prevented Lash Venedray from butting his way into a nice and serious group discussion?
He leaned into the centre of the huddle raising a finger as he did so, as if he was showing he wished to answer a question. Of course, he didn’t wait for someone to recognise his desire to contribute as he began talking almost immediately, “I’d just like to point out that I’m up for any plan that doesn’t involve putting me in the way of danger. And by danger, I mean blaster fire... and fists.” Palas was well aware of his previous comments on the issue of conflict; unless he was flying a ship she could expect no sort of support from him if it came to a shoot out or fist fight. What she could expect would be a number of girlish screams and expert fleeing skills. Why Lash never became a professional runner was still one of the universe’s unanswered mysteries, he had displayed such a high level of ability over the last few years.
His escape plan was to sit back and let everyone else do the heavy lifting, another hard day’s work for Lash Venedray. But he certainly wouldn’t mind getting his blaster pistol back.
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Nov 30, 2010 17:09:56 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Nov 30, 2010 17:09:56 GMT -5
"Tsubasa Arus," said Tsu, taking Palas' offered hand and shaking it. "Call me Tsu. It's what I got by most of the time." Her question gave him pause. "No, not really. I wasn't conscious when I got in here, so I don't know what's going on. All I've been able to see of this fine facility is this fine cell and part of the room we're in. Other than that, I don't have a clue."
He fell silent then, watching the rest of his cellmates. Soon they'd all be partners, each putting their lives and wellbeing into the hands of complete strangers. Either the escape would go well, or it would prove to be a spectacular failure. Tsu had a vested interest in making sure it was the former, rather than the latter.
"Yeah?" he said at Doc's comment on having a plan. "Well ugly might be better than nothing right now. " He chuckled. "Even if it's uglier than his panties."
What would they do? They had to get the field down, but how? One of them could feign an injury, perhaps? Maybe he could induce a trance, make it look like he'd passed out or something. All they needed was to get the containment field down for a few moments...
His eyes shifted to the side when he felt the Bothan stirring. By the time he looked, Trevil was speaking and holding up a datapad. He grunted in thought. However, before he could say something, Doc spoke.
Tsubasa did not need the Force to feel the malice Doc held for the Bothan. It was in his voice. It was in his eyes. If previous comments and looks toward the Bothan hadn't been enough to tell Tsu that something was wrong between the two, this certainly did it. He didn't say anything about it, though. Now wasn't the time, and the problem was none of his business. All he could do was hope it didn't prove to become a problem when they set their plan into action.
Then Lash spoke, making his preferences clear for the rest of the group. It got a laugh from Tsu. At least he doesn't try to hide it.
"Depends," he said to Trevil, careful to keep his tone less hostile than Doc's had been, not that doing that was hard. "If you can get this field down with that datapad, then I think we're set. This one" he made a motion toward Lash with his hand "might be a good distraction if we need one. Something makes me think he'd be a good runner, keep 'em tied up trying to get him so the rest of us can get them. Or not."
He glanced over to the guards that were outside the cell. Two of them were casting curious glances back, no doubt wondering what the huddling prisoners were up to. Time was running out.
"Well whatever is going to happen needs to happen soon. I don't think they'll let us sit here and make plans like this forever." He nodded to Trevil. "See what you can do with that datapad. If you need someone's face broken in, I'm your guy, but I can't do much till the field's out."
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Meira
She don't mess around
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Dec 9, 2010 13:06:30 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Dec 9, 2010 13:06:30 GMT -5
She took this Tsu's hand and shook. She didn't like the idea of trusting a complete stranger... but they didn't really have too many options available to them. The enemy of my enemy... She thought to herself. When he confessed that he knew of nothing more than the cell and some of the room the cell occupied, she nodded her head. She didn't really expect the man to have a map of the facility in his head, but it never hurt to ask.
The bug in the corner of the room shifted, issuing a short series of sounds that sent a shiver up and down Palas' spine. She moved, placing herself closer to Doc, but this also put her next to Lash, who, at that moment, felt the need to remind everyone present of his cowardice. He got a laugh from Tsu and a smack to the back of the head from her. The corner of her lip and her nostril arched up in a sign of disgust at the man before she turned her attention back to the others.
Yunas spoke up then, stepping toward their huddled group and holding up a datapad. Palas opened her mouth, ready to shout at the Bothan as her lekku twitching in anger sending a few pangs of pain down her her neck. She winced, and Yunas was spared, for now. Doc spoke for her, essentially expressing her general lack of confidence in the being she was more and more seeing as nothing more than a large rodent. But the logical side of her still whispered that maybe he was innocent. Logic could be so annoying sometimes.
Tsu's voice followed Doc's, and so Yunas was spared any approach. Tsu was right... hell, Yunas was right. If that datapad could get the cell barrier down, he'd be one step closer to winning her trust back. But one step did not a marathon make.
He might be a good runner. Palas interjected after Tsu finished. She turned her head back to Lash, the frustration with the man clear in her eyes. But he wasn't lying. He's no hero. That damn logical side slipped in again. Not unless he's behind a the helm of a ship anyway. Yeah, she let it slip... he did save their asses... twice. Rolling her eyes, she moved away from him before the urge to punch him overwhelmed her.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Dec 28, 2010 21:01:04 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Dec 28, 2010 21:01:04 GMT -5
Of course, he wasn't completely optimistic about the reaction he would get upon walking up to the rest of them, datapad in hand. Trevil knew they would be suspicious of him, especially added to the whole mess of them being locked up in the first place. Doc and Palas being the foremost two beings that had ended up on his bad side, blaming him for their current situation. He had wanted to tell them that it wasn't his fault, that he couldn't have remotely known what would happen. But he hadn't the words, and had stayed in the corner, thinking of a way out, to get on their good sides again.
But now that he had, he belatedly realized his actions could be taken as suspicious and convenient. That he had produced a datapad at just the most appropriate time, when everyone was planning an escape. Again, there were so many things he could have said, but the Bothan had dismissed them in favor of just offering up his help. It would be a slow and hard road, but he hoped to eventually tread it to the end and show his trustworthiness. The last thing he wanted was for Palas and the others to leave him here in a Taris jail. Despite the very real fact that he may as well belong there for his past deeds.
It was time to just hope for the best, hope that with their help they could figure out how best he could make use of the datapad and its software. The obvious choice would be to wirelessly hack into the building's security and unlock their cell. But that would just open up a whole new can of dianoga. Like what they would do once out in the hallway, surrounded by guards. They had the numbers advantage now, but who knew how many more there were throughout the facility. No... there had to be a better option than turning off the force field.
His ears flattened then in hurt and submission, as the rebukes he knew were coming finally hit him. First to attack was Doc, whom Trevil had expected to come after him. He felt the Kiffar was a bit grumpy to begin with, and all this mess had just heightened it. And Trevil knew his own turn of events wasn't helping much. The Bothan didn't bother answering; he had learned from years of time spent with humans that most of the time their questions didn't need answering, especially those spoke spitefully. And so he just stood there and took it, waiting to see if anyone else would respond in a more helpful way.
Before such could happen, though, Lash broke the sudden icy quietness with some of his antics. And though Trevil didn't really know the guy all that well, nor his purpose to the group besides being a pilot, he was glad for a bit of relief. He just hoped the jesting from the human would be enough to settle everyone's nerves enough to actually listen to what he was bringing to the group and think of how he could help with the plan to escape. And a small part of his mind felt sorry for Lash, knowing that there was a very high chance some blasterfire would involved, especially if he used the datapad to hack at the cell containment fields, leading them right into the guards' arms. But for the most part, he just took Lash's words and let them pass in and through his furred ears, taking them for what they were; a mere distraction from the tension growing in the room.
Trevil was thinking about giving up then, telling everyone he was mistaken and take himself and his datapad back to his corner to wait until they came up with their own plan. And to hope they would take him with them when they did escape. If they escaped. That is until the strange human-like being spoke to him. Perhaps it was because they had no history together, but to Trevil it seemed this man was actually taking his offer somewhat seriously, coming up with the same idea that he himself had thought of. The taking down of the force field keeping them in the jail cell. The same idea he wasn't sure whether it was the best option. But he wasn't about to deny and push down any idea; he was already deep enough in the hot seat. There was no need to push his furry behind closer to the flame.
"I think I can do that," he finally answered. He nodded to the stranger who was seemingly become an ally and a fellow escapee. Trevil didn't mind that one bit; they would need all the help they could get if they were to get out of this building alive and not recaptured. Especially considering no one had come up with any better ideas. And he didn't expect any new ones, either. The words of the man and Palas's act of leaving the 'circle' seemed to make things final.
The Bothan took his leave then, wanting and needing a bit of privacy and quiet, as much as he could get in a cell with a half dozen other beings, to work on slicing into the mainframe of this prison. He tapped away at his spare 'pad, his fingers clumsy on the small device. Trevil wished for his expansive computer desk layout with the large keys and buttons made for his larger paws. With that, he could get things accomplished a lot faster. But he'd just have to work with what he had. He'd made do with a lot less in the past back on Bothawui when he was growing up.
As he tapped away, a smaller part of his mind was left to think about what they would do once they had escaped. Assuming that they would do so, getting past the guards and out into the open still alive. Would their new 'friend' come with them, just as he had himself joined the motley crew of the Jewel on an emergency last-minute deal? He also wondered if that bug... thing would be including in any of their plans, but shoved that away. It reminded him too much of his nightmares as a child back on Bothawui. To think that they would be leaving together was enough to make him shudder and his fur to ruffle. But maybe he had just better stay in the present; it would be up to Palas anyway what happened to the others. It was his job to give them the chance to escape, not to plan the futures of everyone else, just ensuring that the Bothan himself had a future on the Jewel.
Luckily enough, the security system of the building seemed to be a bit lax, and he was able to easily enough slip into the computer system and start poking around the files without anyone else the wiser. Again, he was glad he had installed some of his slicing programs on his backup datapad, even if he didn't have all his information and files on it. This would have been near impossible if he had to start from scratch. The human-looking man had mentioned getting down the containment field, and so that's what Trevil went looking for, going hunting for anything related to the security in this level of the building.
Finally after a few more minutes of searching, he had it. But there was one problem; despite any searching of the schematics and the small homing device on his datapad, he couldn't pinpoint their exact location within the prison area, nor their particular cell. He would have to shut down fields on all the cells until he got to the right one. And if that strange large insect in their own cell was any indication, he wasn't sure he wanted to unleash all the beasties that might be lining this hall.
Swallowing, his fur rippling in indecision and slight fear, he glanced at the others, who were talking amongst themselves, probably going over final details of the plan the strange being had thought up, a game plan of how they would get past the guards once they were free to leave the cell. Free to run into not only the guards but whichever other possible criminals he would be setting loose. The words started forming on his tongue, but he clenched his jaw. This was the only option; he knew that. Trevil knew he had to trust them, just as they were now trusting him. He had to trust that they would not leave him behind, just as his partners had back on Bothawui after the bank job. These beings were different; they had to be.
On the other paw, opening all the other cells could be a blessing in disguise; with all that din and chaos, maybe they would be able to escape while the guards were dealing with some of the other escapees. Yes, despite the risk he was taking by blinding shutting down containment fields, there was a definite pro to it as well. After weighing the outcomes of both, he knew it had to be this way. For better or for worse, in order for them to escape, most of the others would have to as well.
With a deep breath, he hovered his paws over the final keystrokes and spoke aloud, trying to keep it soft enough so that the guards wouldn't be suspicious but loud enough that the main players would get the message. Trevil cleared his throat with a shaky cough. "This is it. Just... I couldn't separate us out. I'll have to take down every cell, one by one, until I get the right one. So we'll have lots of beings out there, not just ones with blasters, if you get my meaning." At least, he hoped they got the idea. That it would be chaos out there, with dozens and dozens of various beings running around, escaping. And hopefully providing some cover for their own escape.
"Get ready. Any minute now." And with that, Trevil brought his paws down, working his fingers as fast as he could, not wanting a huge gap of time between each containment failure. The more chaos he could create, the better it would be for them. As the first keys were depressed, and he got farther into the system and shutting things down, he could hear his work in progress. All along the hallway along the cell block screams and yells broke up, not all of them belonging to the captives. Obviously there were some dangerous beings being released.
About nine cells later, the fuzzy field just a few feet to his left fizzled away, leaving nothing but clear air. Their cell was open. They were free to leave. But he continued to work; he didn't know if he would spent the time to open every single locked room down here, but he wanted to get the guards as busy as possible. Again, hoping that once they made their escape, he would be going with the rest of them. Those thoughts pushed away as he continued to concentrate, and force fields continued to open up cells all along the hall.
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Otterling
Still Dutch's Minion
1,557 posts
0 likes
"Like a monkey on the sun, it was just to hot to live."
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last online Dec 25, 2012 18:03:09 GMT -5
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Jan 22, 2011 2:34:15 GMT -5
Post by Otterling on Jan 22, 2011 2:34:15 GMT -5
Doc wasn’t exactly the most trusting of men on a good day so it was little wonder that he spent the next few tense moments in silence watching as their little bothan ‘friend’ took his datapad over to the panel by the door and began the arduous task of overriding the security system. He wasn’t about to let Yunas out of his sight for even a moment. Some part of him, a very loud part, was screaming in full force that the minute the spice runner got a chance to bolt, he’d happily toss the rest of the Jewel’s crew under into the path of blaster fire. Doc chanced a glance down at his leg. The servos had all but locked up on him and he’d be lucky if he could manage to escape at a swift hobble, much less run. With the two guards outside flicking suspicious looks in their direction, he knew he’d never make it far unless they had a distraction. A moment later, Yunas’s voice cut through the thick tension in the room and Doc’s eyes snapped up to him.
"This is it. Just... I couldn't separate us out. I'll have to take down every cell, one by one, until I get the right one. So we'll have lots of beings out there, not just ones with blasters, if you get my meaning."
Doc considered hard if this was just another trick to screw them all over, cause enough mayhem with free-roaming criminals and hope one of them would kill the crew while the bothan made an escape, but the Kiffar crushed down the emotion as soon as it rose. It wouldn’t matter. They could use the chaos as a shield to get them out anyway so even if Yunas was playing dangerous games, the rest of the crew could still benefit from it. However, there was the very serious matter of two guards right outside their cells to contend with and the group would have to find a way to clear a path if they were going to get very far, especially with Doc holding them back by not being able to run. He glanced around the room. What would be impressive enough to clear a space even through a hallway full of criminals? He didn’t have much time to think before Yunas had started the process of freeing them. Already he could hear the cells down the line fizzling open one at a time and as the seconds ticked down and the moment of decision drew nearer, his eyes fell at last onto the creature huddled in the corner of the room chewing happily on Lash’s boot.
A light went off in Doc’s mind and he snapped up to his full height, shouldering off the searing white hot pain that shot up through his leg as he put weight on it with little more than a low growl. He turned without a word and fisted a section of Lash’s shirt, tossing the pilot against the wall before leaning down and unceremoniously wrenching his other boot off. He held the offending item up and whistled a few times. The door next to them opened and the creature raised it’s head. Doc waved the boot around, watching as all the beast’s eyes followed it and a thick new lace of drool slid down it’s face. “That’s a good boy,” he rumbled to the monster. The door to their cell finally hissed and died and Doc let a devious smile settle across his face.
“Fetch.”
With that, he tossed the other boot out into the hallway and watched with amusement as the creature garbled something in another language and chased it out the door. The scream of the guards rang out in the same instant as over a ton of giant bug barreled into them, plowed over them, and tore off down the hall in pursuit of his treat. Doc chuckled and patted Lash on the shoulder. “Lookit that, you WERE useful,” he said patronizingly before hobbling over to where Kess was still curled up in the corner. He started to kneel but didn’t get more than a few inches before the pain let him know in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t going to happen. At least, not if he wanted to get back up again any time soon. He settled for just gently patting the girl’s head and then taking her arm in his grip before hoisting her to her feet without another word. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, “let’s get the %(&$&^$ outta here.” He looked over to Palas and motioned for her to take Kess as he was going to have enough trouble keeping up on his own without the added difficulty of keeping track of a terrified girl.
He limped heavily to the door and poked his head out amidst the cacophony of screams, roars, and wails heard in the hall. Mayhem had erupted everywhere and he smiled in spite of himself. “The crap I get into for you people,” he muttered under his breath before beginning the painful task of limping quickly down the hall. A few of the inmates had managed to snag the guard’s blasters and Doc pulled up short as a blast seared past his nose but it had obviously been meant for someone else as the person who’d fired it turned to shoot elsewhere. Doc sighed and started limping forward once again, following in the wake of the giant bug as it tore a path of destruction down the hallway. “I need a raise,” he growled, “and a drink.”
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Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
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last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
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Jan 30, 2011 0:32:26 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jan 30, 2011 0:32:26 GMT -5
“I’m not too afraid of it, however I’m kind of confused as to what it is... what you are," Her roommate said.
Glem looked at him flatly. "I'm a three-horned Buffalo Bat, and this is my pet Vornskr." Greek chirped. "Seriously," she muttered to the little amphibian, "I can understand having never met a Gungan, but a Gizka, who doesn't know Gizkas?"
Greek thrummed mournfully, and Glem scratched his chin.
“How much do you want out of here?” he asked.
She thought about it a moment.
"You have no idea."
Not two moments later, the energy shields fizzled and disappeared.
It was a trap. Surely. They'd switched to some invisible shield so that prisoners would try to run through and electrocute themselves, and then all the guards would laugh and have beer and it would make there day.
But other prisoners were already beginning to rush into the hall.
Glem grabbed Greek around the middle, tossing the little gizka towards the hall. He sailed right past the threshold, skidding to a stop in the middle of the hallway.
Glem dove after him. Greek was busy not getting trampled, and Glem reached him just as a few of the guards were recovering being flattened by... something. She scooped up the Gizka and started to dart down the hall. At the end of the hall, past the last cell block, was the door she was looking for. It's where they'd stripped her of her staff and her stash, and where said things still were. She'd seen other prisoner's stuff there too, maybe she could score some bonuses...
Glem kicked the metal door. It didn't budge. There had to be a faster way...
A dead guard, a dead guard, a dead guard, there had to be one around...
An unconscious guard! That would have to do.
She snagged his key-card, and leapt back to the door, grinning as it whoosed open.
She dove inside, rummaging through the shelves of contraband, and began to reassemble herself...
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Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
108 likes
Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
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last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
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Feb 1, 2011 12:26:55 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Feb 1, 2011 12:26:55 GMT -5
Since the droid's disappearance, ACD-01 has wandered from one ship or space station to the next, blending in as one the maintenance droids. A droid is viewed as little more than slave or any other variation of labelling wishes to give to one who is never paid for their servitude. Most do not pay much mind to the humble, quiet servant secluding themselves to their work under their master's rule. Typically only the sentient maintenance workers pay them any mind, and even to them a droid is little more than an object or bauble.
About as quiet as a mouse, 01 never really brought much attention to "herself". Slicing into a large ships or space stations droid records to implant a forgery of herself to appear as one of the droid maintenance crew always proved a simple task for her. For her this was simply life, a droid with freedom to act of her own accord, yet the only way to appear normal within sentient society was to play the part of a servant.
Which made for an interesting event a year after escape from Duwani Mechanical Products main droid factory within the Works. Aboard a large supply frigate she had managed to guise herself as one of the ordinary maintenance droids maintaining the proper functionality of the immense frigate. It was raided by pirates, and anything of value was pillaged. Most of the crew were slaughtered by blaster fire or blunt trauma or being cut down. The guard droids were destroyed, but the maintenance and protocol droids were captured and taken aboard the pirates own ships to serve them instead.
But 01 knew well-enough to play her part well as the submissive droid, and conceded to serving the pirates. The first chance could find -- she would escape their grasp. Only a couple weeks later it seemed that the opportunity for escape found her instead. The pirates were passing through the Taris system, and the authorities strike out against them. The heavy freighter was disabled by the authorities' cruiser and boarded in hopes of saving any slaves and confiscating any contraband. The solution 01 calculated in this moment was simple, sneak into the cargohold while the pirates were busy dealing with the authorities boarding their ship. Within the cargohold 01 deactivated her photo-receptors and posed as a deactivated droid in storage.
The pirates were massacred in the fighting, and the sum of 01's calculations proved correct. Within one of Taris' law enforcement facilities, 01 found herself within the contraband storage area of the facility. It was much like a very large cell closed off by an immense energy shield. When the droid's sensors indicated that no one seemed to be safe, she activated her photo-receptors once again. Glancing about the large storage room of contraband her next course of action was finding something to use to escape. Some form of slicing kit would just dandy in this moment.
The last thing she wanted was the authorities looking into what sort of droid model she is. For given that she destroyed her own records of such, it would spell trouble, because then they would deactivate her and take her apart and root around in her programming. For a free-roaming droid as she, it was a very discomforting understanding of the results for being discovered. Unfortunately for the droid all she could find was a very simplictic kit for slicing, nothing impressive or at least what the droid would prefer to use. But beggers canot be choosers, so she would make do.
It was then the droid put into use the greater measure of her functionality and programming. Connecting the slicing kit to her remote interface and source ripper simultaneously, she begun remotely slicing into the facility's security systems scanning its databanks for anything useful while utilizing the source ripper to conceal her own signal within the facility's own remote security systems signal. The only real danger being an exacting enough security operator within the facility noticing that seemingly one of their own signals was coming from the contraband storage hold. It was in this moment she noticed she was not the only one slicing into the facility's security systems.
Rather than intercede 01 simply instead observed the slicer's antics as they sliced into the energy fields of the cells, and shutting them down. One after the other they went down. With this event 01 calculated in conjunction with the cell energy fields being shut down to shut down the one sealing off the contraband storage hold that contained her as well. The storage hold for contraband that held her was not far from where the other varying items and materials of prisoners are taken, itemized and stored. However, that was only after a massive exoskeleton type creature barreled its way through several guards. An oddity for 01 as she had never seen such a chaotic sight in her short existence.
The moment 01 stepped out of the contraband storage hold, to her right she saw several she recognized as the facility's inmates from when she scanned the facility's databanks. For a droid it was a long pause 01 had when looking up them, as she repeatedly calculated her options in this moment -- for a long moment of calculating and weighing options may have only appeared as a trice for a sentient. Only doing so as she watched these peculiar ragtag inmates seek out their confiscated possessions after the Gungan had unlocked the holding area with a keycard taken from an unconscious guard.
After having weighed her options through careful calculations, and perhaps a slight bit of odd recklessness for a droid. She turned to what she recognized to be a "captain" in a certain regard from the her previous scannings; and uttered with all the blunt nuance of a droid in her though feminine yet cold automated emotionless monotone, "This unit will serve if allowed to escape with you and your ship."
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Jenno
Still glorious, but no longer your leader.
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last online Nov 5, 2019 10:09:22 GMT -5
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Feb 14, 2011 11:44:18 GMT -5
Post by Jenno on Feb 14, 2011 11:44:18 GMT -5
This was quite an enjoyable and friendly group chat. Well, it would be if it wasn't for all the mistrust and degrading of one's character that Lash was now being subject to. For any greater men, or at least, any not so simple-minded, such comments would probably have stirred up some form of testosterone-filled response. However, Lash smiled that same old smile. That was, however, until Palas spoke. At first her words were quite the expected addition to Tsu's comment but at her second statement Lash's face almost fell off. "Did you just..." His words seemed quizzical, his expression was littered with confusion.
Before either of them could truly address who said what she had walked away, which was probably better for him in the end. Instead, he looked to Tsubasa, his features settled and Lash opted to respond to this 'face basher' instead. "I believe that plan would have me being put in the way of danger. I can run, but only away from danger. I know a thing or two about distracts, first you have to put yourself in danger and then runaway. I'm only really comfortable with the second part of that plan." His grin was back. Nothing could stop it for long.
Yunas seemed to be well on his way to freeing them, or Lash assumed as much as he had next to no experience with slicing computer systems. The buzz of conversation seemed to die down a bit as the bothan worked, perhaps the people were a bit nervous about if they could really trust the one who was potentially the reason they were in here to begin with. Personally Lash hadn't really made his mind up, though he was more inclined to think that Yunas was just a victim along with them, Palas often formed unreasonable opinions about certain people.
As the sound of freedom approached, something which sounded very much like a mass of prisoners swarming their guards, Lash was getting ready to wait until the 'brave' members of their group could take down their guards so that they could make a break for it. However, his idly preparation was rudely interrupted when Doc decided to punch him in the gut. Naturally, this vicious strike caught Lash off guard and his body instinctively keeled forward. He quickly, thereafter, fell to the floor with a thud.
Rolling onto his back, clutching his stomach, the poor human groaned at the crippled old man's punch. Throughout the clenching pain, he found himself able to speak. "Did no one hear the 'no fists' clause of my service agreement." As the sharp sensation subsided, Lash managed to sit up. He glared slightly at Doc. "Next time there's an escape attempt, I get to punch you in the stomach unexpectedly." Carefully raising to his feet, Lash finally realised his other boot was missing. Looking up, he saw as the mammoth creature chased after his flying footwear spewing what was hopefully drool from his mouth. Again, the pilot found himself looking at the old man. "You owe me a boot." Was all he said.
With the barrier to their cell down and the guards taken care of, Lash ran, as best he could, to their weapons. He spotted his blaster and his holster amongst the assorted collection and his mind focused upon reclaiming them. He paid little attention to the figure next to him as he reached in and grabbed his beloved weapon, almost hugging it as he picked it up. Attaching it back to its usual position he spoke, almost to himself. "Ah, what would I do without you." His smile was brimming with joy as he turned to look at the figure he now realised was next to him.
The next sound that escaped Lash's mouth was comparable to the sound of a small girl screaming. He'd not seen a creature like this before and so far today his encounter with unknown life forms had not gone so well. "Captain!" he yelled, "there's another monster! 'Cept this one's all spindly and googly eyed!" He was almost recoiling now, the gungan was not as intimidating as the giant bug, but this was Lash Venedray, ultimate coward of the universe.
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