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Nov 8, 2010 20:44:50 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Nov 8, 2010 20:44:50 GMT -5
Frell-oh-frell-oh-frell…WHY PIRATES?!
The woman behind the sticks, and thinking furiously to herself as she wove the small freighter in and out of the pirate’s fire, was one Samantha Zaftig. Her ship, the Exodus, had dropped out of hyperspace for a routine coordinates check and change on their way from Socorro and, unfortunately, right under the watchful eye of a lurking pirate crew in a small corvette. Fortunately, Sam was a crack fighter pilot…unfortunately, the small ion cannons on the pirate corvette got lucky on their first try and shorted out her hyperdrive. Fortunately she had a very skilled nautolan with her to man the guns…unfortunately, they were far outgunned. Fortunately they were more agile than the corvette…unfortunately, that didn’t mean much when you had ion cannons blasting away at you on every turn.
Fortunately, Sam wasn’t alone on the Exodus…unfortunately, she was quite terrified of pirates.
With the arrival of the pirates and the realization that hyperdrive was non-operational, she’d brought the shields up full and sent Athar and the wookiee to the guns as she attempted to dodge the fire as her smaller freighter turned tail and ran. Did they have cargo? No, not this time around, but the pirates didn’t know that…all they saw was a tasty morsel trying to get away. This had gone on for about the past ten minutes, leading up to the point were, now, other systems were beginning to fail under the occasional blast from the ion cannons. In fact, as another (narrowly avoided) blast rocketed past the Exodus, Sam was cursing her luck and making one of the stupidest moves she could ever do (at least that’s what it felt like to her). Pulling back on the control column, she urged her baby into a loop that would take them back over the top of the enemy corvette.
Running wasn’t working, so when you couldn’t run…you fought until you couldn’t fight any more, and prayed that you ended up on top.
”Hold on everyone, we can’t out run ‘em and so far the cavalry hasn’t come, so all we can do is fight. Brace yourselves for impacts.” Flicking the internal comm off, she switched back over to the emergency signal she had activated. It was a simple distress call since she hadn’t had time to create anything else, but she was about to find time…
”This is personal freighter: Exodus, out of Socorro. Request immediate assistance, repeat: request immediate assistance. Under continued attack from raider corvette, Socorro sector…Q-17…coordinates are…” The ship shook heavily under a volley of fire, her coordinates almost drown out by the warning alarm that went off in the background before she shut it off again. ”…shields down and sustaining damage…” Unknown to her, the last round had knocked some of the circuitry for the comms system out, causing the message to cut in and out as she spoke, her voice strained as she barely avoided a full on round of laser fire from the larger craft. ”If…--nyo--…out there, please respond!......ghter: Exodus…--sting immediate assista—“
Slipping between two red-hot bolts of laser fire, the corvette pulled the nasty trick of firing its ion cannon once more, the charged particles slamming into the aft of the ship and causing it’s engine to cut out…restart…and finally die from the overload….
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Nov 8, 2010 23:46:31 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Nov 8, 2010 23:46:31 GMT -5
"Scans are showin' their hyperdrive went kaput with our first direct hit. They have nowhere left to run."
Good. Bring us int'a full pursuit an' keep them ion relays hot!
The Shock Hammer's engine bank flared, bringing it up to a respectable velocity, even for a corvette. Their mark was still far more agile, but it was well in range and ailing. Another barrage hammered it, the icy blue energy beams sending up a dazzling display as they overloaded the shields on the Exodus. The cylindrical form of the corvette began to slowly creep up on it.
"Her shields are down, it's over! She's ours now!"
The Feeorin stayed motionless in front of the bridge viewport, he had been plundering the spacelanes long enough to know that it's never "over". His eyes narrowed, spotting the shift almost before the freighter executed the maneuver. She's comin' about on us, tryin' t' cut across our forward batteries! Shields t' full front, topside gun'ry stations, put a wall a' hellfire in 'er path!
A hail of fiery red bolts blazed past the Exodus, its pilot swerving expertly to avoid them. "Frellin' hell! She's evaded the coup de grace and is moving past us at a rate beyond our tracking mechanisms capabilities!"
Crown O' Thorns link fire! Slash 'er across te' midriff an' try an' see if ye can' make 'er go limp rather than go in blazes! There's a bonus in this 'ere contract if we can take 'er alive!
The eight points of the ion relays flashed with an intense light, each relaying its beam to the next before the point nearest the fleeing freighter unleashed its vindication in a blinding sapphire javelin--searing across the Exodus' hull just as it passed overhead. The doomed craft's engines faltered, then died out for good.
Ready te' boardin' party.
"Captain! We have hostile projectile signatures on scanners! They came out of nowhere and are heading straight for us!"
The Feeorin hobbled violently to the gunnery station and pushed back the 'officer' rather forcibly to look at the holoscreen himself. From the other side of the bridge, the helmsman called out in a voice tinged with suppressed panic. "Republic cruiser off the port stern! Missiles incoming!"
Direct all power to the engines an' shields! Get us into hyperspace NOW--! His command was quipped as he stumbled against the control console, the ship rocked from the many impacts of the missiles. The lights went out, followed quickly by the consoles and the viewport display until nothing remained but blackness. Engineering report?
An owlish face could be seen, illuminated by the pale glow of a hand-held datapad. "S-some sort of...ionic missile. It's shut down everything, I can't get the Shock Hammer back online--not until the ionization disperses."
The captain slammed a single mighty fist down on the console, which flickered feebly. The viewport screen flashed with static for a moment then came back online. They watched the immense shadow of the strange Republic vessel pass across them and their disabled quarry. The Exodus lurched suddenly, and began moving towards the cruiser--snared in a tractor beam--until it vanished from sight within one of the shadowy underside bays. The cruiser then slowed, nearly to a stop, and then vanished into hyperspace.
One by one, the lights began to come back on.
_______________________________________________________________
The tractor beam set the Exodus down gently in the spacious bay, the blast doors having sealed out the unforgiving wastes of deep space and the turbulent firestorm of hyperspace. The bay was strange in that it was immaculately clean--lacking the normal grease stains, scrap clutter, and exposed infrastructure--though even more unusual was the utter lack of....anyone.
The dull ambiance of the ship's reactor represented the only audible noise.
And all unseen eyes watched on.
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Nov 9, 2010 0:40:31 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Nov 9, 2010 0:40:31 GMT -5
Shuddering as the ship’s engines stalled out, she shouted for the wookiee to mind the bridge as she went hauling down the central corridor to the engine room. No sooner was she their than the ship shuddered again and the howling speech of the wookiee echoed down the halls, countered by Athar’s, both apparently shouting for her to quit the engines and arm up…then (after she was already neck deep in wiring), they shouted for her to quit the engines and get to the cockpit. Only then did she listen, as the ship shuddered and started moving…
Grey eyes flickered from the wires in her hands, to the dead engines, then scrambled up out of the top of the crawlspace, running back toward the front and skidding to a stop behind the two. The blue glow said it all…a tractor beam. ”From who?! Who’s tractoring us? Did you get a look at….Via help me…that’s a big ship.” Eying the scans, grey eyes widened further before she turned on her heel and stormed down the hall shouting orders. ”Lock down the ship! Keep the weapons online! Inform me of the slightest change, any communications, anything that happens!” With that she’d vanish into the crawlspace again, her head poking out a moment later. ”If anything so much as twitches wrong let me know about it! And find something to fix!”
There was a lot to fix…
Even after the ship was settled down on the deck, the Exodus remained locked up tight, practically bristling as it (and the people within) waited.
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Nov 9, 2010 2:47:33 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Nov 9, 2010 2:47:33 GMT -5
The unseen eyes were getting impatient. They had received the shattered distress call as they had passed nearby the sector, but there could be no way of knowing if anyone aboard the ship was even alive.
Other than the bio scanners which said there we people on board who were alive.
But there could be no way of knowing if anyone on board was even conscious. And so they continued to wait in what threatened to become a proverbial staring contest in which one never saw the others' face and therefore could never know if someone was cheating. At last the unseen eyes gave in and sent as envoy. The dark form emerged alone, swooping down from the great heights of the hangar bay to alight before the battle-weathered space craft. He approached cautiously--the diagnostic scanner indicated their comm systems had gone haywire from the ion cannons and thus they had been unable to relay their assurance in that manner.
Which is why Phae now hopped up carefully onto one of the landing struts and attempted to interface with the ships comm systems directly. There could be little doubt that if there was anyone alive/conscious inside, they would not be in the most amiable or trusting of moods. No luck. The Familiar was met only with an abrupt electrical shock and static. Back to plan A, then.
Phae took wing, hovering to perch instead in front of the crew boarding hatch. Giving it 3 sharp raps with his beak, he awaited a response.
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Nov 9, 2010 5:03:06 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Nov 9, 2010 5:03:06 GMT -5
Inside the Exodus the proverbial staring contest was earning quite the reaction.
Strings of curses, slapped together from various languages (though primarily in Corellian) were shouted up and down the halls as Athar and Sam bantered back and forth about the situation…or managed to get caught in the wiring. Worrak, for the most part, kept quiet and watched the scanners. When he finally did speak….erm, howl…up it had both smugglers slamming their heads against the hull...albeit, unintentionally. Finally Sam worked her way out of the tangle of wires and climbed out of the crawlspace as she hurried to get to the front. Unfortunately…or perhaps fortunately…she didn’t get completely untangled, her foot catching in the wires and sending her slamming into the deck knees and hands first.
Growling quietly, she flipped herself over and attempted to untangle her ankle. That…might…have been the reason the external comlink wasn’t working. Maybe. It did, however, put her close enough to the egress ramp that she heard the wrapping on the hull. ”Sammy would ya get yer rear up ‘ere girl, dere’s somethin’…”
”Knocking on the ramp…yeah, I know already! Something’s out there, you’re a bit late….GAH! Stupid…wires! …Finally!” As her ankle finally came loose, she pushed herself up and called back down the hall in Olys Corellisi, the reply coming in the form of a terse ‘Aye,’ followed by the soft thump of feet. ”You’re not really gonna op’n tha’ door are ya, Zaftig? You don’ know what might be out dere.” Athar hesitated a moment, almost as if he wanted to say something more.
The fact was, he did want to say something else. Those headtresses twitched slightly, hardly believing he was about to say what he was going to. ”What in da world would I tell dat insufferable pilot if you get hurt, eh?” That brought Sam, who was currently checking the charge in her blaster, to a sudden stop. Now, last she had checked, Athar and Sev weren’t exactly on the best of terms…and she had a few guesses that it was because of two things: his status as a Republic soldier, and her…so the fact that he even mentioned Sev was baffling beyond words. Blundering through that baffling barrier, however, she couldn’t help but mull his words over. After a long moment of atypical silence from her, she finally perked up and gave him one of her ‘devil may care’ smiles, grey eyes twinkling just a bit.
”Well…then I guess I had better not get myself hurt, eh? Now arm yourself up, and let’s see who our caller is. Worrak, keep the guns ready.” With that she cued the ramp to cycle open, pressing herself against the hull beside the ramp so that whoever (or whatever) was out there would have less of a view of her and more of a view of empty air. Athar had done the same on the side opposite her, and, with blaster at the ready, Sam leaned just far enough out that she could get a half decent view of the area. It was…surprisingly empty.
More than a bit wary now, she motioned for Athar to hold his position from the shadows of the ship before she swiftly planted one foot and twisted out into the open, pistol drawn and aimed at…nothing? Grey eyes swept the area before finally stopping dead on a small, metal, form…a bird droid? A recon droid of some sort? Those grey eyes narrowed down onto the little thing for a moment before sweeping the empty bay once more, then…finally…she moved herself fully into the center of the ramp, blaster still held at the read and aimed (for the most part) at the droid. A few words were exchanged with her partner before she slowly moved down the ramp, that blaster moving from the droid to where her sight moved, checking beneath the ship for hidden foes…first to one side, then the other. Up to the high ceiling that vision moved, then back to the droid waiting oh so patiently near the end of the ramp.
As she moved further down the ramp, little things would be more noticeable in her motions that gave her away. The way she stepped carefully and quietly down the ramp with practiced, militaristic, movements…she’d been trained, and seen action. The way her head and eyes constantly moved, checking and rechecking everything…she was cautious and deliberate in her actions. Always her attention returned to the waiting droid…it was obvious that, so far, she found it to be the greatest threat and wanted to keep a good eye on it, but she wasn’t attempting to provoke it. Once she finally reached the end of the ramp, she paused, her eyes sweeping the hanger once more before ending on the droid before her. That blaster shifted just slightly as her stance did, one foot moving to better brace herself as she debated the intelligence of training her weapon directly on the droid.
Something itched in the back of her mind, telling her it might not be the best idea…
”Min min ke’dem guerfel… Alright, you have us. You knocked, I'm out here. Who are you? Who are your masters? Where are we? ...and what do your masters want with us?” Those grey eyes had locked onto the droid now, blaster pulled up just slightly closer to her but that didn’t mean she was about to relax. ”This doesn’t seem to be a pirate ship, there’s not enough people pointing guns at us to be the Empire, and so far this isn’t like any Republic battle ship I’ve been on…so if you could start explaining, I’d really appreciate it.” It may have sounded like a polite request, but she was talking serious business…she wanted some answers or she’d go and hole herself up in the Exodus for as long a possible until she got some.
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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last online Sept 16, 2018 19:37:00 GMT -5
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Nov 9, 2010 17:41:57 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Nov 9, 2010 17:41:57 GMT -5
Phae adjusted himself slightly to keep his balance as the hatch at last cycled open. What emerged was nothing less than he had expected; a cautious surveying of the hangarbay, weapons drawn and ready. He simply waited in reverent silence, watching the woman and her crew creep every further away from their craft, knowing it was best not to startle a cornered rat with a blaster. The moment she first laid her eyes upon him, his visor automatically snapped into action--by which I mean it snapped a photo.
Analyzing Target Facial Structure... Referencing Republic Central Database... Project Familiar Core Database Access: GRANTED
Target Facial Structure Identified.
An awfully familiar report flashed before him, comprehended in a milisecond and stored behind what could only be called a smug expression from the bird if ever he could manage one. For now, however, he continued to wait and watch. Several times that blaster was nearly trained on him, his self-preservation systems reaching an unnerving crescendo, but thankfully every logical conclusion came to the same directive: just remain still and wait. The lead woman moved with a practiced air about her, confirmed only in her file abstract, of one with significant levels of training and level-headedness in such situations. They had expected nothing less.
What they hadn't expected was witnessing it so soon.
When at last she seemed satisfied (or at least not in immediate danger of becoming a cheese grater), she turned her full attention to him, resisting the driving desire to put him directly in her firing sights. Pleased to see there's some level of decency left in the galaxy. My name, as you also had the consideration of inquiring into first, is Hephaestus, and yes it was I who knocked. Your comm systems seemed to have sustained significant damages. He broke 'eye' contact to look over the ship again. A small icon in the corner of his vision flashed and his perception switched to a stunning display of synthetic structures, wiring, and electrical flows as the Lateral Analysis program modeled out the Exodus. Every structural flaw, every blown circuit, every...less-than-legal conversion simulated itself in his processors and was automatically logged in the central databank.
...as has much of the rest of this otherwise splendid vessel. We will be sure to see what can be done to put it back into commission. However, I digress. The pirate vessel has been dealt with less than lethally and we have no love of the Empire. I am acting vassal of my partner, the director of our private interest group. You are currently inside Hanger B of the Espial, a Republic contracted stealth vessel we commission when we require a movement of our interests. He lowered himself in much the same as a bird does before takeoff and slowly, deliberately, glided down to the spotless, steel hanger floor. He reasoned that it was psychologically intimidating to have to talk up to someone, even a bird, and that his new vantage point might expedite pleasant negotiations. This is what happens when you watch a Familiar diplomat's test recordings too often.
We seek nothing but to assist one in distress, but fate seems to have conspired to bring you to us, Samantha Zaftig.
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Nov 9, 2010 20:43:34 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Nov 9, 2010 20:43:34 GMT -5
Of all the things she expected to hear from the droid as she paused at the bottom of the ramp, Athar just barely visible from the shadows inside the Exodus, it was not what she heard. One eyebrow raised and she glanced over her shoulder at the nautolan behind her, who gave her a few blinks of his large eyes…the meaning not lost between them at the seemingly simple action. Looking back to the droid, she shifted slightly, glancing around the empty bay once more. ”Yeah…that tends ta happen when you’re hit with ion cannons and then get tangled in the wires while trying to fix the dratted problem…Hephaestus, was it?” She’d glance around the hangar yet again as the ship shifted its course slightly. ”At least we have polite…rescuers?”
The hesitation was noticeable as she attempted to decide just what to call the people who had pulled her ship into their bay. Were they captors or rescuers? Deciding to play it cool rather than provoke the sleeping rancor, she opted for ‘rescuers’…after all, they could have just as easily let her drift. Sam wasn’t quite certain if it was a good thing they’d been picked up or not, but she was swiftly attempting to come to a decision. When the bird-droid spoke once more, grey eyes swiftly latched back onto it as she struggled to understand the full meaning of its words. Certainly she could comprehend what it said, but that wasn’t the problem…she was attempting to understand the implications behind all of this. As it lowered itself, her grip tightened slightly on her blaster, her body shifting as she kept the thing in her sight and within easy aim. The fact that this was a Republic vessel didn’t settle well with her and so she wasn’t about to let her guard down. As it glided to the floor of the hanger, however, she turned her head slightly, gazing at the little metal construct dubiously.
In the background Sam could hear Athar muttering in Corellisi…words like ‘osk’y,’ ‘eharl,’ ‘guerfel,’ ‘ke’dem,’ and ‘bhesj’ highlighting themselves in her mind every so often until she let out a loud snort which seemed to get his attention.
”Koccic sulng” ”Bhesj, Allurea, ofax ets burrin tehn.” ”Saltan valoramosa n telval mord, Jor, aye?” ”Skrag, Allurea…aye que --“ ”Que aliha? Que ‘yke hyon fhars oblivyn’? Jor…koccic sulng, kas tulisha abia al port.” ”Sahsahla…” ”Aye.”
The exchange happened swiftly, Samantha barely shifting enough to get Athar into her periphery and still keep the majority of her attention on the droid before her. Unfortunately…it decided to speak once more, making Sam cringe inside for more than one reason, her companion already bringing his weapon around. Oh she was never going to hear the end of this from Athar…if they made it out of this without being in binders. In a moment of instinct that blaster came to bear on the droid, those grey eyes narrowing a moment before she swiftly swept the hanger once more, expecting half a dozen or more soldiers to come tromping in and take them at gunpoint to the brig. When they didn’t come, she looked swiftly back to the droid.
”You had better start explaining your intentions swiftly, ‘Hephaestus,’ or I can’t promise I’ll remain civil.”
Notes:
Words:
Osk’y = enemy Eharl = trickster Guerfel = fool Ke’dem = insane/unbalanced Bhesj = term of impatience
Conversation:
Be quiet. (reprimanding him) Bhesj, Allurea (Sam’s middle name), the air is too heavy here. ((huzzah for new ways of saying ‘I have a bad feeling about this’)) Assumption is the first step to a shallow grave, Jor, yes? ((Jor is Athar’s last name)) Skrag, Allurea…yes but -- ((skrag is a curse word)) But what? But ‘he who fears nothing’? Jor…be quiet, chaos opens the door to opportunity. (( “he who fears nothing, knows nothing” a Corellian saying)) Sahsahla… ((used in conversations when opinions differ and one party wants to indicate that the other will not get their way.)) Yes. ((Yes, exactly. That’s how I feel))
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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last online Sept 16, 2018 19:37:00 GMT -5
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Nov 16, 2010 23:40:51 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Nov 16, 2010 23:40:51 GMT -5
"I don't like vhere zis is going..." Pan spoke in a low growl, one eye fixed on the holoscreen displaying the goings-on in the hanger bay, and the other cautiously regarding the elderly figure standing beside her with his arms crossed behind his back. Age was apparent in Arza's face and eyes, but his stature somehow managed to remain regal--stoically defiant in the face of the entire galaxy that sook to violently uproot him. Paranoia? Maybe a little. Faith, Pantamime. Phae is more than capable of attending to our guests. They are in unfamiliar territory--rash action would not be in their best interest.The large reptillian snorted and twisted her head to double her soulless glare's efforts on the Rilan. Her tail swayed irritably behind her. "Some react to zhese situations differently zhan others. Some get eetchy treeger fingers." Both steel grey eyes remained heedless to her stare, staying fixed on the holodisplay. Faith._____________________________________________________________ ”At least we have polite…rescuers?”Phae bowed his head to her. We intended nothing more than to free you from the clutches of those pirates. Intelligence had informed us the notorious captain Rah Boralis favored this region so we had our eyes open. However, that particular crew often privateers on behalf of the Republic. They were deterred without casualties but will likely think twice before attacking another...civilian vessel. Those last words had a sort of hesitation to them, almost as if questioning an answer he knew already but hadn't yet decided if divulgence was the wise path. A quick exchange occurred then between the woman and what Phae could only assume was her crew--that or a very passive boarding party--in Corellisi. Naturally, the droid understood every word of it, even some of the more...colloquial terms, but he did his best not to show any sign that he did. He didn't blame them for being nervous, any sane being would be, just so long as things didn't start to get too jumpy. Unfortunately for him, he accidentally struck a chord in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now all parties were far more than jumpy. <<ALERT>> FIREARM HAS ACQUIRED SELF-PRESERVATION: INITIATE EVASIVE MANEUVERS In the microseconds between the time the blasters were lifted and the time they were leveled at him, the Familiar had jumped back, crouching low, wings spread, repulsors practically screaming to launch him out of harm's way. It took an immediate override protocol to keep him from taking flight then and there, but backing (term used lightly) out now might have even more severe consequences. It was suddenly very difficult to negotiate now that there was a weapon traced dead on his chassis. Lower your weapons, please, and I will explain everything. Arzahiem stood in orifice of the hanger's internal entrance blast doors, hands splayed out in a passifying gesture. Beside him, Pan's stare bored into their guests with all the restrained vindication of a seismic landmine. It had taken a lot to convince her not to take along the shoulder-mounted prototype continuous gattling beta ray autocannon. Her method of negotiation was simply not preferable at this moment. Not that she necessarily agreed. As such, it was a rather stark contrast--the peaceful expression that seemed to evaporate all of one's woes, and the stare of ten thousand threatening promises. Arza...thank the Wiz-...him. Phae muttered using his entrance to recompose himself and reset his systems from high alert. Arza would fix everything. Or Pan. With excruciatingly different methods.
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Nov 17, 2010 0:27:59 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Nov 17, 2010 0:27:59 GMT -5
As the droid before her swiftly hopped back his words from just before the verbal blunder started to take root in the woman’s mind. Now, Sam held herself to be a pretty good judge of character and, for the short conversation she’d started to have with it, the droid didn’t seem like a droid. It had the most advanced AI she’d every happened across, so advanced that she was almost able to forget it was a droid at all. When her mind snapped back to the situation, and the bird had hopped back, she too had stepped back swiftly. Had she ever intended on firing on this Hephaestus? No, if anything she’d been about to back away swiftly and seal the Exodus once again, forcing…whoever…to come in and get them, but reaction had won out. Now, with Goddess knew what on their way to keep her from doing damage, she shifted her blaster to aim just beside the little figure, eyes still trained on it.
”What in da worlds are ya playin at, gerl?! Get yor rear back ‘ere before dey do bring in da…” Athar’s words were cut off as he smelled, rather than saw, two new comers…those head tresses twitching with the new information. Looking up he saw the silhouetted figures even as a man’s voice echoed across the hangar. Sam, who had slowly been backing up the ramp once more (even before Athar said anything), stopped at the voice and looked up as well. Before her brain could catch up to her, the sight of that reptilian had her speaking…but not to the new arrivals.
”Athar, you so much as twitch wrong and I’ll be sure to harm you in the next life…” She didn’t think that she’d be given the chance in this life, simply because of the voracious looking creature behind the man. Athar, catching the hint, shifted his own blaster down just slightly. ”Alright…we’ll lower our weapons, but on a few conditions: no sudden movements…from either party…” this was directed mainly at the reptilian and Athar, ”no binders, and no other guards. I’ll have my friend stand down and stay where he is, I’ll leave all my weapons here, you leave all yours…including your clawed friend…over there, and I’ll meet you in the middle of the hangar…”
”Droyk Allurea…!”
”…do we have a deal?” Cutting over the top of Athar’s protests, Sam slowly holstered her blaster again, keeping one hand just out to the side of her, and watching the two…three…as best she could. Once that was done, she made another show that she was serious about holding to her part of the bargain, her hands slowly moving to the strap that held the holster to her leg and unfastening it before starting to do the same with the rest of her belt.
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Nov 25, 2010 21:02:32 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Nov 25, 2010 21:02:32 GMT -5
Keen eyes further augmented by that contact HUD reveled in that moment of expression that tinged Sam as she laid eyes on Pan. Ivory daggers glinted as the sinister saurian's maw cracked in a wide and menacing grin. It would not be an understatement to she was revelling in the reaction to her appearance.
The elderly man standing beside her however, expressed less emotion than a tattered throw rug. He simply stared ahead, stoically surveying his rather unexpected guests with calculating grey eyes. At Samantha's request, he inclined his head slightly, thankful for her willingness for peaceful negotiation. Very well. Dr. Lenarski, kindly take my Familiar to the command deck. I will resolve this.
Pan rocked to the side and twisted her head, about to protest, but met only a hard stare from her employer. She decided this was one of those times not to argue. "Very vell, sir, see you soon." She bowed her head and turned to call out sharply to the still somewhat antsy avian waiting for his chance to escape. It would seem that chance had come. "Phae!" She jutted up her nose in gesture meant to imply her should come to her. This Phae did without a moments hesitation--glancing only once at Sam and her crew before taking wing.
Arza watched the bird alight on Pan's shoulder before the two of them made their way out of the hanger. The blast doors sealed behind them leaving him alone with the newcomers. I am entirely unarmed. No guards. No binders. I will meet with you. And this he did without any further grandeur, walking calmly to the center of the hanger. Here he waited, still watching, calculating, waiting for her to act in kind.
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Nov 26, 2010 1:52:59 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Nov 26, 2010 1:52:59 GMT -5
Seeing the grin of the reptilian, Sam ignored her…it...after all, the man had her attention more than the saurian. At least the saurian didn’t conceal what her intents were, but the man…trying to read anything from him was like trying to read a brick wall. That brought a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth…reading him was like trying to read Brathos or another Lorrdian. At his acceptance of her terms Sam subtly breathed a bit easier and pulled her belt away, wrapping it around the blaster before turning just enough to toss it back to Athar. As he caught the rolled up thing carefully with one hand he’d start to say something, but once again she cut him off with a shake of her head.
”Deal’s a deal…stand by with Woorak. No questions.”
While the nautolan was, obviously, unhappy with the situation…in fact, she was fairly certain she caught Sev’s name in the midst of the growled Corellian coming from Athar as he stalked off unhappily into the ship. Shaking her head just slightly, Sam turned back to see the retreating form of this ‘Dr. Lenarski’ and wondered just what kind of foolishness she was in the middle of. Deciding there was nothing for it but to follow through, she nodded to him and moved to meet him. Force help me if Sev finds out about this…I’ll be toast for sure. It was almost smirk-worthy…almost. The only thing keeping her from smirking was the fact that she really didn’t trust this situation. What other choice did she have, though? Lock herself in the Exodus and let this ship and any in it take them wherever they wished without her knowledge? If someone was willing to talk…well, it made sense to try and listen.
Stopping before the man, grey eyes met grey and she just…couldn’t help but think it odd. There was just something…but she could swear on her life that she’d never seen the man before in her life. Shaking the odd feeling away, Sam nodded slightly to him. ”Alright, sir…I'm here and you have my undivided attention; perhaps you can clear up what’s going to happen now that you have us? No disrespect, sir, but this whole situation screams something very close to danger…and that was before I saw your…doctor.”
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Nov 28, 2010 23:12:49 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Nov 28, 2010 23:12:49 GMT -5
She stood before him now, her own eyes fixed upon his in a hard stare that told him everything he would ever need to know about her. Most in this situation might not have quite as radical a reaction as she had, but that merely told a whole new story about this woman. She wasn't asking for an answer, she was telling him to give it to her. The ground didn't matter--she knew how powerless she was in actuality as he did--yet that spark of defiance, independence, burned brightly. It pierced the hard slate of her eyes like a torch on a castle wall.
A slow smile turned up the corners of his greying mustache and eyes shivered, just for a moment, the grey becoming a softer shade before reverting to the cold walls of iron. How does the saying go? Out of the frying pan and into the fire? Pirates are one thing, but mysterious ghost vessels? Talking birds? Dagger-toothed research and production heads? You've stumbled upon a proverbial madhouse.
His posture was stiff, standing tall and strong. This was only accentuated by the long, black tuxedo coat, his hand crossed under the tail behind him. A black pair of dress pants manifested seamlessly from beneath this coat, vanishing just as smoothly around shoes polished to a mirror' surface like two stones of he purest ebony. A spotless slice of a simple white collared shirt shone from beneath the jacket, a small black bowtie perched just below a powerfully muscled neck. There was no hiding Arza's age, but a strength shone through the weathered skin testament of a life where such strength was the bare minimum to pass go and collect your 200 dollars. His presence was all at once inspiring, and slightly frightening.
Fear would not contribute to the situation. His posture shifted then, not dramatically, but a slight relaxing of the muscles goes a long way. His head lowered slightly so as to no longer be speculating her down his nose. The smile stayed. What happens to you from this point forward is entirely of your design. Fate is not fated, and it certainly isn't for another to control for you. Fate is whatever you make of it. If you wish simply to go about your way, I will have someone assist you with repairs. Or not. I can have the ship stay in position here. Or I can take you to your original destination. Whatever you decide, I assure you that there is no danger to you here.
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Nov 29, 2010 1:14:59 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Nov 29, 2010 1:14:59 GMT -5
As she watched him, his eyes more precisely, Sam made the most astounding observation…those grey eyes flickered…shifted. Her muscles tensed just slightly in the effort not to let the surprise show. It worked fairly well; though, if he were paying close enough attention, the slow wind-up in her biceps likely would have been noticeable. Sev…his eyes…they do the same thing as Sev’s! Her surprise about that subtle observation, however, was swiftly buried (or perhaps compounded) by the surprise and confusion she felt about what the dapper man before her was saying.
As if it weren’t odd enough to find herself faced with a talking bird-droid and a voracious looking reptilian doctor on an unknown Republic craft, here was this man with color shifting eyes and dressed as if he were coming from (or going to) some high class affair and talking about the afore mentioned bird-droid and doctor as if they were the most natural things in the galaxy! Damn right I'm in a madhouse! But are the nutcases IN said madhouse going to send me off to prison or not. THAT is the question. Sam had to admit, however, that she wasn’t wanting to get into a fight with this particular old man. While she was well trained, and he was obviously many years her senior, she had an itching feeling that he wasn’t one to tangle with if she could avoid it.
He had the look, the feel, and the bearing of someone who likely knew a thing or two about the military.
The condition of his clothes alone gave him away. Perhaps it was the starched, white, collar and highly polished shoes? As his muscles relaxed, so did hers…if only just barely…and she silently took in the rest of what he said. She was confused and, honestly, uncertain about the whole thing, but she was trying to be open minded. As he finished, however, there was only one thing she could think to ask: ”Who are you people?!”
Now, it should be noted that, while it was a serious (and valid) question, Sam just couldn’t help but chuckle over the absurdity of it all. ”You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you know who I am and you’re not going to just turn me in, right? Even if you aren’t going to turn me in, why? Why help us like this? What do you mean ‘stay in position here’…why would we stay? I'm all good with people helping people just because, but…most people don’t work that way these days. So…what’s the catch?”
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Dec 26, 2010 19:36:51 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Dec 26, 2010 19:36:51 GMT -5
Samantha Zaftig's file was larger than most for several reasons. For one, her appointment in the Republic was well-documented and supplemented by Familiar accounts and "borrowed" records alike. However, the content detail had nearly tripled in the last several months since a little benefactor had requested it. On the day of Eres and her partner's inquiry, the tendrils had begun to writhe their way through the galaxy, inveigling any shred of coincidence.
Speaking of coincidences, even the director of an organization well-grasped in creating them, found himself pleasantly confounded by this coincidence that truly and honestly stumbled into him. Sure saved a lot of legwork.
He continued to study her, though with slightly less intensity than he betrayed initially. That sudden tensing of the muscles. Had she noticed something? Ara had long ago trained himself to mask his emotions, but so rarely did he have anyone to mask them from. He was slipping up. This would have to be rectified. In the meantime, he showed no sign of noticing her subtle shift in body language and instead focused on appeasing her incredulity. We are Project Familiar, a collective figment of the galaxy's imagination. We are also a friend of a friend who asked us to keep an eye on you.
He turned slightly, gesturing to the hanger around them with both hands, surveying the space and speaking in a fond sense of grandeur. This is the Espial and its bearings await my word. I do not expect you to believe anything, but belief rarely matches reality. That's how we operate.
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Jan 5, 2011 19:52:07 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jan 5, 2011 19:52:07 GMT -5
((erf @__@ I kept thinking I’d replied to this…my bad))
As he spoke she raised one eyebrow cautiously…almost as if the movement might suddenly have people and droids popping up everywhere. Or maybe the dino-doc…that would be bad too. The fact was, however, that Sam was trying to piece together just who it was she knew that might…MIGHT…be part of this ‘organization.’ The trouble was, she could only think of either people she didn’t know, or people she wished she didn’t know. That didn’t make for comfortable thoughts. Speaking of uncomfortable, her fingers (most specifically those of her right hand) felt like they were about ready to frost over, most likely because she was so anxious…that, or it was because of her shoulder. Perhaps both. Rubbing her hands together for a moment she pondered the situation.
”Okay, so this friend who’s asked you to keep an eye on me, just who are they? …I have a lot of people right now who would call themselves my friends just to get their hands on me, and the people who are my friends…well, they either wouldn’t tell anyone about me, or they’re very good at hiding the fact their part of some ‘non-existent’ organization because, personally, I can’t think of one of my friends that would be.”
Again her might flickered back to Sev. Maybe he had some connection with this man…maybe a relative? The eyes certainly led to that suspicion, but she couldn’t risk naming anyone, especially not him. Sighing she continued on before he had a chance to really reply as she decided to take a risk. After all, what was life without potentially life threatening risks? ”Okay…let’s just say I take you at your word and believe that I'm in no danger from you. Via’s granted me with some mysterious friend who’s asked you to keep an eye out for me and so here I am, here you are, and you’re willing to take me just about anywhere. For a moment I’ll take your word for it…you still didn’t answer one of my questions: What’s the catch?”
With that she folded her arms across her chest and pinned her fingers between them and her sides. It was more to get her hands warm again rather than anything else, but it was comfortable as well. I can’t believe I'm actually considering this might be true. I must be stupid or something. Heh, Sev would think I'm stupid…hells, might be the one thing that gets him and Athar to agree. Shaking the thought off, she studied the wizened man’s face for any other signs of what he might be thinking. So far…not much. Sheesh this guy’s harder to read than Brathos.
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Jan 9, 2011 23:29:13 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Jan 9, 2011 23:29:13 GMT -5
The catch, He smiled wistfully, deep wrinkles bunched up upon each other on his face in exactly the way his pressed suit doesn't. Is your answer to the first question: You mustn't tell a soul of what has transpired here, just as this friend has done a very good job of upholding. We are but a shadow, Ms. Zaftig--the smallest bit of light, and we cease to exist.__________________________________________________ Establishing Connection... secure comms data uplink request: 34-19-700 ID#: FA12S10864 Error: Datalog not found, Executive Clearance required . . . Executive Clearance Approved establishing FamCommNet17 running |-|4>< encryption program data tunnel fabricating . . . Connection EstablishedPan paced back in forth on the empty command deck, empty but for the small, AI-infused avian construct perched in front of a comm interface. Her tail thrashed irritably and her mind was filled with many pressing calculations, most of which with the similar undertone of showing both Sam and her associates to the door and then seeing just how much less-than-lethal armament their freighter could absorb before explosive compression. Phae for his part, had much less violent intentions as he entered the executive bypass code and ducked under Pan's negative kinetic energy with a well-practiced motion. The tail instead whipped through the holoscreen, blurring it slightly. Phae payed it no mind--there was a more pressing concern. The old bird was starting to believe that coincidences were attracted to conspiracies like corporate lobbyists to interest funds. Sort of a conspiracy inside a conspiracy, which is just ridiculous. Eres, you are not going to believe who just boarded the Espial.[/i] __________________________________________________ A tall, thin, bald man with a long, pointed nose and dressed in an unusual naval uniform of impossibly perfect state appeared next to Arza. Literally appeared. The figure seemed as real as reality except that he threw no shadow, the soles of his shoes blurred slightly where they "touched ground," and his eyes were pure white orbs. He spoke in fashion practically drooling with contempt--a long, bored drawl reciting the message he was inclined to deliver. "We're off schedule, sir. Do you have a heading or not?" The man that wasn't a figment of a computer's imagination regarded the hologram calmly and responded with a slight nod. Thank you, Niles. Kindly return to the bridge and await orders. I will have a heading for you shortly.A long sigh emanated from a source not precise to where it would be emanating on a real human being. "Very well." And with that the Espial's pilot vanished in just the same fashion--or lack thereof--as his entrance. Apologies. Niles is not much of a people person, but he is correct--we need to have our bearings soon if we are to return on schedule. What bearings might those be?
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Jan 10, 2011 20:07:43 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jan 10, 2011 20:07:43 GMT -5
This was, honestly, getting frustrating. The running around in verbal circles had never really been her preference if she could help it. Goddess! Even Smugglers are more forthcoming than this guy! Reaching her left hand across she rubbed out the opposite shoulder as she mulled over the situation again. Finally she lowered her left arm again and spoke. ”Alright, well you saved our hides right now…least I can do is not tell anyone. Besides…” she smirked a bit, imagining the utter disbelief she’d get from Sev should she ever try to tell him about this situation, ”who would ever believe me?” That didn’t mean, however, that she wouldn’t use it against these people if they suddenly decided to go against their word not to put her or her ‘crew’ in danger.
Mere moments after she’d said that a man appeared beside this ‘Arza’ character. It was so sudden, and startled her so badly, that in less than a moment she had reacted on instinct. Her right foot slid back just enough to stabilize her for a possible attack, her muscles tensing in less than a heartbeat, but luckily she saved herself from further embarrassment as she immediately relaxed again. The new man certainly looked real enough, but there were still flaws…she noticed a slight sheen around the edges of him, the barely noticeable glint of light off an object in the background that was just slightly visible through him, the lack of shadow… An AI? I’ve never seen one that looked so real…she mused silently, eying him quietly now that her mind had connected the dots.
“We’re off schedule, sir. Do you have a heading or not?”
The tone made her bristle. Maybe it was just his voice, the snobbish air the AI held, or maybe it was the soldier that remained in her, but his words rubbed her in all the wrong ways. Grey eyes narrowed slightly as she kept her thoughts to herself, but one thing was certain…if he’d been real he’d have been in for a strong punch to the jaw. You just didn’t speak to commanding officers like that…and since he was obviously ‘wearing’ some sort of military uniform she had expected manners to fit (once she was done almost jumping out of her skin, anyway).
“Thank you, Niles. Kindly return to the bridge and await orders. I will have a heading for you shortly.”
The reply was a belabored sigh and a snotty ‘Very well,’ before he vanished. Her face had returned to a carefully held neutral as she bristled. Oh yes, that AI was lucky she couldn’t lay him flat.
“Apologies. Niles is not much of a people person…”
”Then maybe you should demote him…or get rid of the uniform entirely,” she grumbled, attempting to smooth down her proverbial feathers once more.
“We need to have our bearings soon if we are to return on schedule. What bearings might those be?”
Back to this again…to trust or not to trust.
”What the hells, might as well…We didn’t have an exact destination. We were just out of Socorro and on our way to find a job of some sort, but with the Exodus out of commission that isn’t exactly possible.” Sam kicked herself mentally several times: once for Athar, once for Sev, and once just on principle, for what she was about to say. ”So long as you don’t drop us off somewhere that we’d immediately be caught, I suppose we’re going your way…whichever way that is…”
Life was getting…interesting…with the duo (now a trio) of force users. Eres looked on as Aunna and Vex continued her training as they waited for Kellick (not just any jedi master, but a COUNCIL MEMBER) to lay the bait for this Dani character. It was in the middle of this that something pinged through in her processors.
secure comms data uplink: 34-19-700 ID#: FA12S10864 . . . Executive Clearance Identified establishing FamCommNet17 running |-|4>< encryption program data tunnel fabricating . . . Connection Established
This was…well it was highly unexpected. Someone was attempting to contact her from the Espial?
=Eres, you are not going to believe who just boarded the Espial.=
Of course she couldn’t…she had no idea who was aboard the Espial aside from the typical faces. Tapping her front claws against the hull of the Consul, she re-checked the safety protocols on her end before processing a reply.
=Well that goes without saying, Phae, since I'm not there. I'm hoping you might inform me, however… and why in the worlds do you ‘sound’ so excited?=
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Jan 20, 2011 22:17:12 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Jan 20, 2011 22:17:12 GMT -5
Excited...I nev- well maybe a little. Do you remember when you asked us to post a data seed on the network for Samantha Zaftig? Send message. Pause for dramatic effect. Phae shook his head in amusement at his behavior. A bit uncharacteristic perhaps, but messing with one another now and then is what family does. At least that's what he'd read.
Pan ceased her pacing to glare at the video feed watching over the hanger.
She's on board.
____________________________________________________
This time there was no mystery to Sam's chance of stance. Noncorporeal beings suddenly appearing and vanishing was a phenomena that had taken years for his old nerves to adapt to. Now it was as commonplace aas robot arms and talking animals. And Pan. Not that he appreciated Niles' "quirks" either, he was just accustomed to them. Unfortunately the uniform is his own coding--I dare not touch it. The Ghost AIs long ago surpassed my own abilities, I'll proudly admit.
She was cautious. Granted she had every reason to be, yet Arza noted that she took cautiousness to a level acceptable only to a select few. Including Arza. He could see why Aunna had been so interested in here--even without the details of Eres' request, what little he knew of these two women matched up well. Past associates, perhaps? So much remained a mystery to all parties. A mystery is merely an opportunity in disguise.
Then consider our way yours. Niles. Though his tone changed to address the locally omnipotent entity his eyes never left Sam's even after the ghostly apparition of a head shimmered into existence next to him. This time it was wearing a formal naval captain's hat in a style almost more reminiscent of the Sith military than the Republic. He liked to change his hats a lot. Set our course to its original destination, the Kuat Drive Yards.
"How convenient." Niles drawled, "Also, it may interest you to know that your canary has opened a secure comm with our dear fugitive ex-major."
Two fingers were raised to a wrinkled brow to pinch the loose furrows of skin there and Arza shook his head slowly.
"Oh. Setting course." The head vanished.
Arza sighed and gave Sam another appraising look, searching for any sign of recognition in regards to Niles' slip up, if that's what one could even call it. Kuat is the center of our operations, I hope it is not an inconvenient location--I assure you there will be no need for concern regarding security scans or customs. You could say we have...a Fastpass.
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Jan 22, 2011 0:13:40 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jan 22, 2011 0:13:40 GMT -5
--Excited…I nev- well maybe a little. Do you remember when you asked us to post a data seed on the network for Samantha Zaftig?—
Of course she remembered. She’d requested it and any information they had on her at the time. Her wings flickered a mildly annoyed yellow as she gave a sigh before they shifted ‘up’ to a hopeful pale green. Perhaps they had found something? Or someone had seen her? As the milliseconds ticked past, however, she stood and paced about slightly in her agitation. Why was there no further information?!
—Of course I remember, Phae. By father’s feathers…do you have some information or…--
Of course…that had to be the point where his message came through…
Her wings flashed and flickered through a spectrum of colors, and combinations of colors, at the information. It was so startling, in fact, that she had to re-read the message several more times.
—oh…oh my…well this…that changes things. That makes quiet a few things settle into place. Thank you Phae, I don’t know how you managed it, but thank you. Please, please keep an eye on her if you can. I need to go inform Aunna and Vex immediately!--
Was she excited? That had to be a very big understatement.
“Unfortunately the uniform is his own coding – I dare not touch it. The Ghost AIs long ago surpassed my own abilities, I’ll proudly admit.”
That statement had a glint of curiosity coming to her eyes. Something she couldn’t quite hide, even with all her training. ”Ghost AIs? AIs you won’t touch? AIs that make their own coding? That all seems…well it seems a bit incredible.” She paused a moment, thinking over what she’d just said, before smiling and chuckling at herself, shaking her head slightly. ”Then again…this whole thing is pretty incredible. I suppose I should just get used to the idea of the improbable being probable around here…” She flashed him a smile as she could all but feel Athar pacing in the Exodus. He was going to be so upset. She couldn’t wait to break the news to him…
…Oh wait, yes she could.
“Set our course to its original destination, the Kuat Drive Yards.”
”Heh…Archer’s from Kuat…”
“How convenient. Also, it may interest you to know that your canary has opened a secure comm with our dear fugitive ex-major. Oh. Setting course.”
Her eyes had gotten wide as sand dollars upon hearing Niles say that, every muscle in her tense again. They knew Aunna?! No…it was almost too good to be true. Almost. With these people she wasn’t so sure, now, if everything was coincidence or not. She’d just opened her mouth to speak when Arza beat her to it.
“Kuat is the center of our operations, I hope it is not an inconvenient location – I assure you there will be no need for concern regarding security scans or customs. You could say we have…a Fastpass.”
”I…think I might really believe you. Was your flo—um…Niles…was he…did he mean Aunna?”
He wouldn’t need the force or super sleuthing skills to tell there was an undertone of barely contained hope to her question.
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A®heim
One does not just make a dreadnought.
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Feb 24, 2011 13:57:51 GMT -5
Post by A®heim on Feb 24, 2011 13:57:51 GMT -5
--oh…oh my…well this…that changes things. That makes quiet a few things settle into place. Thank you Phae, I don’t know how you managed it, but thank you. Please, please keep an eye on her if you can. I need to go inform Aunna and Vex immediately!--
Phae felt a level of joy that can only come with revealing a major piece of information after a lengthly wind-up. It was a silly thing to be so happy about, but something made it so worthwhile to receive that ellipsis-filled reply. Also somewhat amusing how they attempted to simulate organic speech patterns even in textual communication. Simply marvelous.
--Of course. We wouldn't go through the effort to save her life if we didn't make sure it stayed saved.--
A bit of wit, slightly uncharacteristic of the normally stoic 00, but then it was logical and characteristics were something to be gained with time. Phae turned to hop down from the console, perhaps to go attempt to make amends with their VIP guest, when one more question occurred to him. Hesitating in mid-jump, he relayed the message.
--We're returning to Kuat. To what extent can she be trusted?--
_______________________________________________________
"I suppose I should just get used to the idea of the improbable being probable around here…”
Arza tilted his head up a little, his eyes skewing to the side a bit in consideration. More or less. Begin expecting the unexpectable and all should be clear in no time. And that applies to more occasions than this one.
That was it then, the course was set, introductions were more or less (mostly less) made, and Niles made Sam's eyes turn into stoneware tea saucers. Had she comprehended the subject of the report or was it simply the full impact of this rather fantastic situation catching up to her?
”I…think I might really believe you. Was your flo—um…Niles…was he…did he mean Aunna?”
That answered that question. And another: Eres' request had not been one of mere whim, not that he had expected it to be, but any light shed upon the details was light well appreciated. Unless it was shining on them--the whole shadow metaphor and all. How then, how did they know one another? Sam's file stated she was a former pilot in the Republic; she could be a contact from the days of non-conviction. She could also be a potential captor, but this seemed very unlikely. Her cautiousness, actions thus far, even her very demeanor did not suggest such a person. And the tone of her voice when she had said her name, it radiated an emotion--and emotion that had kept Arza himself running for as ong as he liked to remember.
Hope.
A hundred questions arising from the answer of one, perhaps Phae had gathered some more .Aunna Borgonia, former Major of the Republic Military. Tried and convicted of aiding in the escape of a known enemy of the Republic--a Dark Jedi if memory serves. He kept his tone even, the tensions in the room becoming palpable again. At last, after a second long pause that lasted a century, he nodded. Falsely convicted and on the run with our assistance, bu the same you speak of.
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