The Smuggler Contingency

[Jazen]

If there was one thing Shine loved more than flying, it had to be the quiet of hyperspace. Okay, that was the second favorite thing he had next to flying; the first was spending a good time with a nice woman. But it wasn't far off. During those long or short flights that sent stars passing by as fast as a good time, one could feel a sense of absolute peace. In the white light that surrounded the Cat, Shine was removed from the dangers of the galaxy, a protective dimension safe from the perils that troubled every day life. True, there was always the chance he had input the coordinates for the jump wrong and as such could end up jumping into a star or a planet or a moon. But he'd never done that before, not once. And now, with Vis alongside him, the chances of that were down even more. No, the only thing he had to really worry about was what to do in the long flight to keep himself from dying of boredom. And to ready himself for what was ahead.

Since he had an abundance of time for this trip, he figured he might as well run down the events of the last few days for good measure. A lot had been said and done in the past few days, more than your average man had to deal with in a lifetime. He had to thank the fact that he had been military before all this; it gave him a higher than normal ability to take those large amounts of information and turn them into something he could use. Fast. And there was nothing wrong with making sure all the finer details were covered, any loose ends found and secured. Heck, if this was a story that was being told, the author would want to make sure the reader knew what was going on right?

It had been about four days ago that all this had gone down. After the events of Rodia, Shine had headed back into the Core Worlds for what he felt was some much needed rest and relaxation. After the events on Tatooine, then Kuat and now Rodia, Shine figured he needed to take a break before he chose his next destination. After all, all three of those trips hadn't gone exactly as he had planned and for the most part, put him in situations that were very bad for his well being. Okay, so the situation on Tatooine he had pretty much willingly put himself into, but the events of Kuat and Rodia, who could have seen that coming? And despite all the negatives of those matters, there was always positives to balance them out. He'd gotten to spend more time with Sam on Tatooine, his trip to Kuat had given him Vistal and the matter on Rodia had at least given him a chance to get to know a few of his fellow Familiar owners. Always try to find the light in the dark, his father had always told him. Well, those were certainly the perks of those runs.

In any case, Coruscant offered him a chance to pull up his trousers and plan for the future. There were no jobs out on the market anyway, so it was the best time to do such a thing. The Cat for the most part was running as smoothly as he could hope for, Vis had an assortment of new little gadgets he could tinker and play with and Shine had a decent amount of bank to allow him some breathing room in the need for more. But there was something money never really could buy, even if you had so much of it that you would never need to work for it again. And that was the feeling of adrenaline you got when you were at the stick of a fighter or of any craft for that matter. The world was not limited to where you could go on your feet anymore and for many of the world's, the sky was not the limit. All of space was his playground and the worldly matters that plagued so many were not his concern. Still, even he couldn't ignore the news reports whenever he was sitting in a bar all the time. And good news didn't attract attention, so most of the time, the worst the galaxy had to offer was displayed for all to see. Sure, there were people who whispered how terrible that was, others who ignored it entirely, some braved their reputation to call for justice. But at the end of the day, who really did anything? He was once part of a group of people who might have done something about it....but he'd screwed that up long ago. Now he was just one of these people, worried more with tending to his own wants and needs than the suffering of others. He shook off the feeling of guilt inside him, as he always did. Nothing to be done about it now. It wasn't like the Republic or anyone was offering jobs that helped your everyday man anyway; galaxy was full of greedy folks that it was.

He was pondering whether or not to make a house call to someone when a man had sat down beside him. The man was cloaked pretty much from head to toe and kept looking around at present company, as if he was unsure he was in the right place. Whoever the man was, someone should have told him when trying to hide your identity that you shouldn't wear high quality cloth under that cloak, which Shine noticed as the man's sleeve was exposed. It could get you killed. After the man assured himself in a method unknown to Shine that he was where he wanted to be, he turned to look at Shine from beneath his hood. Shine caught his eye, but didn't turn his head when he did. He spoke in a quiet voice, to no one in particular, which gave the man the opening he had obviously been looking for. In short, he asked if Shine was preoccupied with a certain kind of job at the moment. Shine shook his head to that, sipping carefully from his drink as the man offered him a chance to earn a king's wage. That had caught Shine by surprise, but years of experience had taught him that nothing ever came easy, especially the bigger the reward. "That depends. A king's wage is only as high as his standing and not all kings live in great palaces. It could be a number to let me live in peaceful retirement for the rest of my life or just barely enough to get me by." had been his silent pondering at the time. Still, it answered his need to get off his behind and fly, so he decided why the heck not? The Cat could always use more upgrades and he could always use the extra coin to buy, dunno, a place he could stay at whenever he stopped by.

The man told him if he wanted more info, he was to go to a certain place at a certain time, where he would be given the next step of the deal. The only thing he could tell him at this point was that it was for the right people, for the right cause and he wouldn't run into any heat from the proper authorities on the matter. The lack of information Shine wasn't happy about, so he told the man he wanted, at the very least, to know who was offering this job. The man hesitated for a moment, taking another glance around the room, before whispering to Shine. "Its for the Republic citizens." This caught Shine completely by surprise and he almost grabbed the man right then and there to demand what he meant by that.He didn't though and with a nod to the man, turned to leave. Before he could, the man had caught his sleeve and told him that this had to remain the utmost secret. He also asked him if he knew any others that might take this job, ones that could be trusted and had the skills to match. Shine stopped at the door as he pondered that....then told the man he would see him at the meeting.

A day and a half later, Shine headed to the meeting point, where he was surprised to only find a man standing there. The man asked for Shine's name and when Shine gave it to him, he checked his datapad once before nodding and handing him a number to call. The man then shooed him off, saying his job was done. Again, something Shine didn't like, but he left the man be. Whoever was setting this up was going to the extremes to avoid getting found out. And Shine was unsure if he wanted to find out why. He sat there in the Cat for about an hour pondering that, watching the datapad in front of him with the number and code set, just waiting for the confirmation. Finally, after weighing the pros and cons(and Vis checking to make sure his call was secure), he hit the send key and waited. Almost instantly, the face of a well groomed woman, along with a equally groomed man, filled the screen. The message was automated, designed to respond to the call and give the callers the exact same information as everyone else. Vis also detected that the video only played when the user spoke their name and sent that audio file to the same number. Keyed so that only those they requested can hear it. Not bad."

The woman spoke first, thanking whoever was on the other end for taking the time to make the call. But the time of pleasantries could wait. They had a deadline for this job and it was fast approaching. In short, it was a mission of relief and of mercy. But first, the woman decided to give him a little background information. The recording told Shine that a few days prior, a man had come before the senate requesting aid for his home world, the Sith occupied world of Jaemus. Information on the world would be given to them at a later time. The woman would not go into great detail about how the meeting had went and who was for what, but the final decision had been that no aid would be sent. It was too risky and in the long run, would end up a waste of the Republic's resources and time. It would be doomed to fail from the start. Heavy hearts had left that meeting, but not all of them deemed to simply accept that decision. Names would not be spoken, but a small group of senators had opted to find a solution to the problem and as such, why he was being contacted. The solution was to contact those that made a living getting in and out of places with, how should she put it, things that they didn't want found. Just because the planet was Sith owned didn't mean ships didn't come and go, with the exception of Republic craft. As such, the job was to meet at a location of their choosing, collect the supplies they would be delivering to those in need of them and then take those supplies to the planet in question and make sure they got to those who needed them, the people.

With that, the man took over. He couldn't have screamed military man any louder with his stance or in the way he spoke. He said that if the viewer of this agreed to the deal, they would be sent the data on where the meet was taking place, along with a series of files they believed would be useful for them to read. The deadline for arrival was three standard days from now, at least from when Shine viewed the message anyway. The price they would be paid was also included, something that prompted Shine to let out a long whistle. They weren't kidding around about how much they wanted this job done, not with the amount they were paying. That money was probably coming out of the good hearted senators pocket too, which made Shine chuckle. So there were still decent people in this galaxy after all. All that was left was to confirm whether he was in or out. It didn't take long for Shine to hit the confirm button once again, which brought the information they had promised to his data pad. Once again, the two on the call thanked him and the message abruptly ended.

Two days later, Shine found himself standing one of the great floating cities of Ithor. There were a few planets the Republic could have used as the supply station, but the Ithorians were peace lovers. Any deed that served to aid those in trouble sat well with them and thus, made it easier to use their planet as a kind of home base. They were supplying a large amount of the supplies as well, with the rest being given by a Republic supply ship the people in charge had borrowed. The trip had been easy enough and upon his arrival, he found he was not the first to arrive. In fact, he looked to be the last. He only briefly met with the other smugglers who had the balls to run this mission, for most of them were quickly getting final details settled and prepping their ships for the task at hand. He didn't know much about the one's called Melody Prance, Arc Laud or Cas Tarshann, maybe their names in passing when in a den of smuggler's and the like. Still, if they had come here to take this job, they probably had skills to match his own. Maybe better. Or they could be as foolish as he was, taking a job that could easily be his death warrant. But there were two people(three actually) there that he did know; one from some time ago and one.....one he had met on more than one occasion. He knew he had suggested Pak and the Bha'lir's as folks that would likely take the job, but he didn't think they would actually come. Nor did he think the one's who came from the Bha'lirs would be one's he knew.

Seeing Pak here surprised him a little, the man didn't strike him as one who would want to be on this sort of run. He was glad he was though; the man had skill in excess and if anyone could make this run, the Balosar could. He greeted the fellow captain with the respect he had for him, welcoming him as best he could. He only spoke with him a little before the newest arrival caught Shine completely by surprise....but one he welcomed. She may have been disguised a little, but Shine knew that ship. And the Nautolan that accompanied her. He was careful to approach them though, as he knew Athar wasn't exactly...fond of him. Still, he finally made contact, respectfully welcoming them to the planet and showcasing his surprise that they were there. Thinking back on it, he really shouldn't have been; Athar was part of the Bha'lir's, the group of smugglers that did acts for the common man. Why didn't he ever think to join that group he wondered. They seemed to be more in line with what he was feeling as of late.....but he would worry about that some other time. Like the others, he only spent a little time speaking to them, carefully dropping a hint to the woman(who he was sure was Sam), to contact him later if possible. And with that, he had time to think.

He still didn't know why he had taken this job truly. There were safer jobs out there that he could take to collect that amount of money, given a certain amount of time. It was actually Vis who came the closest to the mark about why; you can take the soldier away from the Republic, but you can't take the Republic away from the soldier. Or something like that anyway. Basically, Shine was a good hearted fellow; he didn't leave others to suffer if he could help it, he wasn't just out for his own skin all the time. And the words that Sam had given him before, about finding better jobs for better people...it had been nagging him. This was one of those jobs. For once, his smuggling skills would help people instead of making them suffer; an act that he found did his heart and mind good. Jeez, I must still be running off the feel good feeling I got from helping those people on Rodia. It might get me killed faster than by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A part of his mind, the part that held his Corellian blood and cockiness, realized this could be a good chance to put in brownie points with Sam and Athar, not only with his skills but with his devotion to the task at hand. The rest of his mind(and Vis for that matter) smacked the sense back into him though; this was a serious job and he wasn't going to botch it by showing off. Okay, maybe he could still do it and show off at the same time. It wasn't as if the two had never been related when it came to his people.

When the fourth day came, they were gathered briefly for a final quick reminder of what was to be done, what they might be facing and what was at stake. It made Shine feel like he was back home on Corellia, still flying in his little fighter for the military. It was a good feeling to have. The final plan for the mission was this. The craft would arrive shortly after one another, but approach as separately as they could make themselves. Ships flying in formation would attract attention and since they wanted it to look like a normal visit, they would have to fly on their own for the most part. The drop point was to be the main city of Jaetofella, to locations. Preferably, they were to land in the city, where a man would meet them to collect and move the supplies. The senators had managed to get people they could trust on planet, however they did that was not told to them. If they could get people on planet, how come they couldn't get the supplies....sigh. Then again, people were easier than a large amount of goods, so he just chalked it up to that. Those contacts had special code words that would indicate them as friends, as each of the smugglers had words to respond to those codes. Each smuggler had a different code and kept that code to themselves. Less chance of it getting leaked. Only after the codes were spoken were they to hand over the goods. Of course, the chance that they might not be able to land within the city was accounted for as well. If they were unable to do that, they were to fly to a location outside the city and drop the good there. The contacts knew the locations and would go to them when the heat was down. After the good were dropped, the smugglers were free to escape however they wished, but only after sending a confirmed code the contact would send them to the Republic, which would confirm they had done their job. Only then would they get paid.

With that, the smugglers were thanked again, wished good luck and "dismissed", more or less. The supplies were already on board when Shine got there and he had spent the better part of the day he was there planning just how they were going to get past the fleet that probably awaited them. It would be a trick, that was for sure. Shine was no leader, never had been, probably never would be. But he would be damned if he let those people suffer because he failed and he would be damned if he let his fellows die if he could help it. Especially regarding the one's he knew. Realizing he would have more time to figure this out during hyperspace, Shine had powered up the Cat, made sure everything was ready to go, then followed/flew alongside the other ships as they left and shot into the void.

And thus, where he currently found himself. Beeping from his console told him that the ship was coming up on its destination, prompting Shine to sit up and prepare to take manual control as soon as the white space around him became black again. The transition was smooth and his exit point put him a decent enough distance from the planet to allow the others time to arrive, as well as assess the situation before heading in. Nodding to Vis, who had clambered up to the cockpit chair beside him, he whistled at the task that awaited him.

"This is highly risky. The odds of us managing to get past that fleet with all these supplies is....."

"Vis, you know better. Never tell me the odds. It wouldn't matter if you did anyway; we're still gonna do this. Besides, we're carrying food, water and various other basic goods. Nothing illegal at all. Should at least get us onto the planet. You still have that code they gave you?"

"Yes, safely tucked away in my mind. So, we are to proceed in at intervals as to avoid raising suspicion?

"Yea, that's the plan. Let's just hope we don't have to fall back on Plan B. It's gonna make doing what needs to be done harder if we're dodging a Sith fleet trying to fry our butts. So just remember; play it cool Vis. Really...really....cool."

"That is not an issue for me. You, on the other hand, I fear may have to keep your cool in the long run."

"I always do. Sheesh, you make it sound like I panic at the first sign of trouble." Okay, so he was lying a little. He was a little nervous about all this. One slip, one mistake, one wrong turn and he was probably dead. Or someone else was dead. Maybe those people down there. This had to be done right. Beeping from his console indicated the arrival of the other ships, spread out a fair enough distance from one another as they exited hyperspace. Now the only thing left to do was head on in.....and pray for a little luck.

"This is Shine, Cat reads good arrival. I'm coming in at 175, bringing my speed up to normal approach speeds. Should make it seem like everything's chipper to them. I'll approach on the vector I'm sending now, so give me some breathing room guys. And I know this may sound corny but....may the Force and the lady luck go with us." Quietly, he sent a message to Sam all on its own as well. =Nice to see you again. We really need to stop meeting under stressful situations. Leaves no time for talking and relaxing and getting to know one another, you know? Anyway, good luck and be safe. I've got your back.=

Vis sent a follow up response to Shine's message, albeit discretely as well.=Don't mind his words. His flirting words are masking his own nervousness. He is truly focused on the task at hand, of that I am sure. Be well Ms Sam.= The message was sent and marked with his name at the bottom. Shine had introduced them on Ithor so hopefully she would remember who he was.

Unaware of that, Shine had shaken off his worry for the most part abd focused on the task at hand. He would have been the first one in, but someone took the lead instead of him, so he focused on instead coming in at his own unique time. No pressure; it was like flying to Coruscant. Just with less ships and nothing but enemies waiting to blast you out of the air. No pressure at all.

[Casual]

There lay the datapad, neatly on his desk. Deera had brought the datapad back with her, as well as a holoprojection explaining very little. It was a shady garbed figure, regal, almost in appearance, but his face was masked. Deera had been originally conducting business as usual with the Republic, renewals of contracts and such, when approached by this man. All he had said that Deera could record was:

"Give this to your master, speak nothing of this, and keep this safe. I trust you with this matter, as I know your reliability, Deera."

The man was not wrong. Deera had been dealing with Tarshann's business for eighteen years now, and had revealed nothing more about her master than he wished. Few knew of Tarshann's extra-curricular work. Fewer of them were involved in the Republic. This man, Cas speculated was a senator or similar dignitary, knew two things: one, that he was in the business of mercenary work, that he was a man for hire, and two, that Deera, his ambassador for Tarshann Arms, was connected to him and could be trusted. This was a very well connected senator. Perhaps even with connections to smugglers, or other mercenaries. These things didn't matter, however. He would deal with his obscurity later. Something more pressing was on his mind. His mercenary mind.

He pressed the button.

The call went through, and instantly, an elegant woman and similarly trim man appeared on-screen. The woman spoke with a dignity and air that Cas knew came with the territory of politics. A field that he wrinkled his already wrinkly nose to. She explained the situation the Senate had been pressed with, the need for aid on a very needing world. It was a compassionate cause, something he had once thought lacking in the Senate. That and haste, but these points were neither here nor there. What was required of him, was to simply fly much-needed supplies into an Jaemus. She also explained that there would be a meeting of those involved and more details would be discussed. When the woman finished, the man stepped in.

He was clearly military, and Cas knew his kind. This man was different, of course, but as they say, birds of a feather... The man explained the information on where to meet would be revealed, should he choose to comply, and also the reward, which was quite substantial. He also stated that further information would be given should he choose to "confirm."

Cas knew that he could use the money. He certainly wasn't in need of the money, but his research and development was so seriously lacking, it was essentially non-existent. He could use the money to hire some acceptable engineers, and if they showed results, continue to pay them. It would make for a sufficient investment. He pressed the confirmation button and the information he needed was given. Two days. Hmm.

<>===<>

Bah. Ithor. He had no resentment with the place, nor their floating cities, one of which he now stood upon, it was just something about the place. He couldn't put his finger on it. It was just... uncomfortable to know he was floating in orbit above so lush a planet, and yet he stood on an orbital city. It was too much like home above Nar Shaddaa. Regardless, he now stood with various smugglers of the galaxy. Though smuggling wasn't really his shtick, he was certain he could get the job done. Especially with his modified civilian freighter, the job would be as easy as point A to point B, if the Sith didn't sniff out the trickery. And if they do, then he'll just play it cool and stick to his training. Push comes to shove, maybe someone will be familiar with Enigma Enterprise and he can strike a deal. The situation was win-win for him if he simply played his cards right. His concern lay in knowing when to hold 'em and when to either walk or run away. Luckily, Cas was a phenomenal judge of such things. At least - he - thought so.

Those in attendance were referred to themselves as Pak Har'endanno, a young balosar, and we all know how they handle situations, how did this offer even get extended to such a character? There was a Shine Albatros, another young punk. Cas knew how these young bucks worked: either they had it or they didn't. In his experience, most didn't. There were some out there that had that skill, that prowess needed to survive and if they had it, they had it in spades. The sad story was that most youngin's didn't have it and didn't last long in the business. It's the sad truth, but it's a rough galaxy, and Cas knew that just as well as the next sob story. Like an amputee's lost leg might itch, so did that feeling of the Force in Cas as he continued to think about it. He shook his head and leaned on his modified ship, Ryder. There was one named Arc Laud. A thirty-something, Cas wagered, and with such a disheveled appearance, he was beginning to doubt the Senate's abilities to make rational decisions. The man, though, he had to admit, did have that air about him of a man of results. Then there was another young bundle of joy, a "Melody Prance," who's very name oozed cute. Mr.Tarshann was indifferent to "cute." He couldn't place the girl, as most cats have claws, this one seemed no different. He would give her the benefit of the doubt and hope that the fight in her was heavier than the fluff in her. Then there was "Namra", had he been a few years younger - well, never-mind. He could see that the suit and helmet she wore did her no justice. He simply could not prove the theory however, as a helmet masked her face. She seemed like one of the young bucks that got their job done and done right. That was his true concern. The others he didn't catch the names of, nor did he bother. He would meet who they really were in-mission.

_______________

The day came when the mission was to be launched. They readied their respective ships, took off and jumped to hyperspace and into the point of no return. The plan was simple. Cas's concerns were Jaetofella, contacts, code "gizka" and emergency air drop should things go awry. Deera was with him, prepared to take manual control and was also there for the necessary maintenance of appearance with those on Ithor. She was with him now because it seemed pointless to leave her when he could have a fine droid at the controls of a manual turret. She was also nifty for programming forgettable code-words to.

We have arrived at our destination, sir.

There loomed Jaemus, with the multiple shipyards in plain view. It symbolized his easy ticket to research and development, as well as an outlet for his insatiable drive for adventure. A blip and a voice came over his comm at that moment.

"This is Shine, Cat reads good arrival. I'm coming in at 175, bringing my speed up to normal approach speeds. Should make it seem like everything's chipper to them. I'll approach on the vector I'm sending now, so give me some breathing room guys. And I know this may sound corny but....may the Force and the lady luck go with us."

There came that itch again where the Force used to be. He kept it in check, however. It hadn't bothered him so much before, why now? He had no reason to let it. The sensation left as soon as it came. It was at this that Cas took the lead, making certain to maintain his distance from the others, distance that was essential to their ambiguity and therefore survival.

Cas here, Ryder reads good arrival as well. I'm taking point, as long as no one has a problem with it. Runnin' in with normal approach speeds. Keeping it casual, guys, keep inconspicuous and we'll be fine. I agree, Shine, doesn't seem like they're much on to us. Giving you requested room. Stay frosty, people, don't screw this up. Cas out.

Impersonal and prideful. What more could one expect. If they wanted to get chummy with him, he'd have to see some results, he wasn't their babysitter. Things aren't simple when it comes to life and death. It may seem like a fence, but sh-- gets complicated fast. To think, this started with a simple datapad on his desk...

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

The ripple had started with a single stone…a man speaking to the Senate, pleading for help.

The first splash was made by the Senators refusing that assistance and slowly spread.

The smallest ring on the water were the kind hearted Senators who had decided to take matters into their own hands…stretching out into the second ring. This second ring was comprised of the tendrils that reached out and discovered the third ring and ultimately making first contact with them…the Fringe; the smugglers.

The touch of that second ripple was felt throughout the smuggling community, forming the typically un-stir-able mass into something mildly cohesive. It had gotten their attention, and while only a few were moving, word spread through just enough that a much more cohesive community-within-a-community was stirred into action across the galaxy. The Republic would only see a few of this community’s tendrils…four to be exact, but they had the idea now, and they were going to run with it…with or without help from the major governing body of the Galaxy.

Those four parts of this community had to be gotten hold of, and that wasn’t always simple…but the Tribunal had its ways, and soon enough everything was shifting into place. Two pilots and two Princes…it should be enough to get the job for the Republic done, and done well. Hoops were jumped through, names exchanged, more hoops jumped through…the Republic was a disorderly mess, but if there were people that needed to be helped, a way to give back to the community at large to be had, and a way to be paid? A mess and some hoops were trivial matters to deal with for these sort of goals.

What neither the Tribunal, nor the Republic, had counted on however, was the fact that there was another group…another small, but influential, community had been stirred to life. Both out in the galaxy and deep beneath the surface of Kuat the members of this community were active; they watched from the shadows, they listened from backpacks, they accepted a ‘call’ from the second ripple, they asked permission to join the effort…they received the green light…they moved.

From all corners of the Galaxy they came, converging on one planet at one time…something none of them had likely ever seen before in their lives: a small ‘fleet’ of almost completely unattached smugglers working for a single cause. The Ithorians certainly found it odd…the ones who had dealings with the smugglers to load their ships, anyway. The three-ship team of Bha'lir members arrived shortly before Shine, the sleek black form of the Exodus settling lightly on the platform of the floating Ithorian city, followed by the more heavily armored and bulkier frame of Athar’s Scythe III all grey and blue and red, then there was the small and blocky form of the last freighter…it was unobtrusive, understated, a bit old, but it worked for the younger pilot who would be working with them.

The ramps cycled down and four people would emerge from the various ships. Athar (or rather Rathas as he would introduce himself) the sea colored nautolan Bha’lir Prince and his twi’lek co-pilot (a similarly colored blue woman named Ni’pera) emerged from the Scythe, swiftly followed by a bothan male named Kiff from his own ship. The three met with the final member of their team at the bottom of the Exodus’ ramp. The second Bha'lir 'Prince' hadn’t wanted to make an appearance at all, to be perfectly honest (after all, she had to be careful of people recognizing her), but it was necessary if the supplies were to be stored on the ship and so she’d opted for something that would keep her…relatively anonymous.

Military combat boots, comfortable and easy to move in. A grey flight suit, also comfortable, familiar, good fitting but just loose enough to not give too much away and embroidered in black across the right upper chest…the old quote she’d had painted on her ‘Hawk “You can run…You’ll just die.” The pilot’s helmet that covered her head was olive drab in color, two golden stripes running from front to back. On the right side of the helmet a small golden decal of a VTOL jet craft was emblazoned, and on the other side her call-sign “Bomber.” That HUD visor was down, the lightly tinted covering only allowing the shape of her eyes to be seen, but not allowing the color of them to be distinguished. At the bottom of the ramp, she’d stop and lean against one of the landing struts, speaking with the others from the Bha’lirs quietly as the ships were loaded. Others came and went past their ships…a balosar by the name of Pak who had an air of former military, a human (she thought) named Arc who had the air of a bounty hunter (oh joy of joys) and his side-kick (or maybe he was her side-kick) Melody who seemed much more in keeping with ‘smuggler’…then there was the Cerean named Cas who’s subtle studying of her told her he was either sizing her up, interested, or both…and there was Shine.

While Sam had (if necessary) introduced herself to the others as Namra, she’d chosen to stay pretty quiet and watch everything…especially the loading of her ship. When Shine came along, however, she greeted him with a smile and (much to her surprise) met another familiar. Vistal…she tapped the information into the datapad she’d had in her hands before sending the little droid a more appropriate PF greeting and her proper name. Athar, however, had been on the fence about if he was pleased to see Shine again or not, and kept muttering about his ‘big stick’…aka, his rifle. Silly over-protective nautolan; didn’t he know he needed to worry about everyone but Shine right now? Ah well. Soon enough the barely cohesive smuggler team rippled their way out to Jaemus, dropping out of hyperspace at different times and in very different places.

”Ev’ry one git ‘ere safe an’ sound?”

”I think so. Ex is running pretty…all smooth sailing. I'm gonna come in from the south so give me some room, Athar, Kiff.”

“I am here, all of Monneka’s systems are green as well. Alright, I will come in from the southeast then. I can see you already on my scanners, Samantha.”

”I can see da Cat, but I don’ see you gerl. If we’re all here tho’ call us in, Sam.”

”Aw, really? Why do I gotta…*sigh*…fine, fine.”

The privately linked comm network between the Bha’lir ships went quiet as she listened to the others check in over the main line. Sure enough…the Cat, first on the scene followed by Ryder. Taking a page from Hunter’s book for once, she kept her piece short and to the point…especially when larger blips started appearing on her scanner around the planet.

”Don’t chatter unless it’s about the weather, we should all know our job by now. My group’s all here and we’ll stay out of your way.”

Somewhere in the background she heard Athar chuckle. It was a nice sound to hear, really. While she appreciated all the little hints and tips from Shine and Cas, it was unnecessary. Everyone here was supposed to be a professional and know their job…that meant they shouldn’t need to point out the obvious like keeping things casual…they should be able to chat about the weather instead! We’re smugglers for Lady’s sake! Isn’t that something we’re known for? Flying casual?!

”So how ‘bout dat Sabacc tournament last week?”

Athar’s comment came over the main comm line between the ships and she couldn’t help but snicker loudly in return as the entry coordinates from the other ships started sifting through her screens and she returned the favor. Then Shine’s message (followed by Vistal’s message) popped up…so she decided to have a little fun and put him on blast.

”Uh…Shine…that wasn’t your entry point, and flirting on the job is bad for business. If you wanted to ask me out to coffee, you shoulda done it before we saddled up.”

[Squee]

((Just to let you know, Mel’s ship isn’t yet up. Revising a couple of things with Kella, then it should be up.))

She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d ended up with the datapad of information. It had been kind of a blur last night. She remembered a fine red-head who had seduced her into a dance and discussed about work, though she’d assumed it had been an innuendo. By that time, Melody was sure she’d had a number of drinks in her system, if she was recalling that much information. Because by the end of last night, she’d gotten herself absolutely drunk off her rocker. She was amazed she’d woken up here, in her bunk, instead of some hotel surrounded by rumpled sheets and the smell of sex. Positively astounded. In her bunk. Single. And a datapad that was going “Wah-wahwah-wah-wah”…

Too much of a hangover to care about it right now. Melody sloppily smacked the datapad until it paused, flopped over with a groan, and passed out into bliss. She was woken several hours later by a hand roughly pushing at her, and her mind immediately jumped to her midnight fun was kicking her out of his room. Instead when she turned, she was greeted by a scowling Arc who commented on her smelling like booze and handed her a small glass of water. Then he got curious about the datapad. She spat out a harsh “leave alone”, but when she’d gone back to sleep and woken up briefly after that, he was fiddling with it. Apparently it only worked for her because it told him he didn’t have a woman’s voice.

No kiddin’ Agent Fruit Juice Pupils.

She’d been sober enough to accept a job last night, according to Arc. Death be damned, did he eavesdrop on her? He avoided the question. However, he was kind of stiff about talking about the marvelous body she’d spent most of her time with last night. Arc countered the tease about jealousy with a demand to know what she gained for drinking herself into stupor. Eh… she’d dropped the conversation.

She knew later it had been him who’d gotten her back on Eagle without a plaything, and though she didn’t say so, Melody was pretty grateful. Not knowing the face of her one-time only lover left her rather unsatisfied. So after she’d reviewed the datapad, she’d shared it with him, but then told him she was taken the job. It would be some more money to spend on Eagle. Get some of these wires put away and finally replace some panels. Oh dear Life, she was so cheap. The very hour she accepted the job, she’d raised the Eagle in to sky and plotted their route.

As fate would have it, Melody set them down on the target meeting planet, Ithor, the night before. She shut things down and had a drink before laying her head down for sleep. Then Life cursed her when she woke to Arc rousing her, saying they were going to be late.

Indeed they were late, and earned frowns, scowls, and indifference for it. Melody had grinned sheepishly, wiggling her fingers to everyone with a small blush smeared on her nose. Everyone was there besides her and Arc, and she dared not turn to look him in the eye then and there. Melody felt bare, but made herself stand up relatively straight with crossed arms and hip cocked in attitude. And for all the looks she got, the meeting turned out to be really boring: a recap/repeat of what had been on the datapad. But then they added some other stuff, and it sounded important, so Melody figured she’d turn on her ears to understand the thing about the codes.

Dismissal allowed Melody to speed back to her ship, which was being man-handled without her direct consent. It was only the goods being loaded, but she’d felt violated: no one touched her baby without her approval. She guessed the Republic ship-rapists felt if she were taking the job, then that was her consent. With some effort, she was able to smooth her prickled hairs with a couple of spits at the loaders.

---

The console beeped and startled Melody from her nap. She shot forward, body-slamming the console, and checked the alarm. Time to drop out. She stopped the alarm and pulled up the internal speakers. “Arc, we’re coming out on Jaemus. Might wanna get your adorable-ness up here.” Life’s blood, she was tired. Rubbing her eyes, she switched to manual control, glancing at her clock, and began the sequence to pull Eagle out of hyperspace.

Adorable-ness? Really? Melody blinked, only right now registering what she’d rambled into the speaker. With a groaning sigh, she eased back on this throttle and then double looked at a meter. All was doing… well enough. She needed to quit being so cheap.

Then the messages started playing. The first being from Shiny, so she had decided to dub him whether he liked it or not, and then that Cas guy that made her really happy that she had Arc. Melody couldn’t help but giggle at his comment about flying casual. You wouldn’t know much about flying casual, would you, Mr. Scary? Then the other woman pinged a… it had to be a reply to something Shiny had sent her.

Melody flicked on her end to broadcast, starting with, “Well, Eagle’s still intact so everything’s spiffy…” and lingered a moment as she confirmed her current position and where/when she'd head in. “And we’re flying cas-u-al, so not to worry. Oh, and it’s supposed to be sunny with a chance of falling stars. Any other silly questions needin’ answered? Be-SIDES the one where we question the steaminess of Shiny and Pretty Lady’s coffee?”

[Mara]

[...from Old Habits Die Hard]


He was slouched in his captain's chair, light blue eyes staring unseeingly through the front viewport of the red YSE Vector-class light freighter, one leg sloped over an armrest, one hand clenched around a bottle of Corellian whiskey, antennapalps no longer standing straight up. The Balosar, alone again, and his ship were heading towards Jaemus, on a mission of mercy and relief, no less. Something that Pak Har'endanno had never thought he'd be doing, not in his present state of occupation, at least.

Pak had previously done all kinds of missions like this while in the employ of the Republic military, but all that seemed a lifetime ago. Back when he had something to live for, before he had sunk back into his old ways learned in the slums of Balosar. The only good thing, and it was small, was that he hadn't gotten back into deathsticks. But that was not for lack of trying, so perhaps he shouldn't pat himself on the back too much.

The only times he felt like his old self, the old military improved self, not his slummy self, was when he was behind the yoke of a ship, any kind of ship, flying. It was then that nothing else mattered; any worries or troubles just disappeared as he focused on the work ahead. Any wrong move he made there could be his life. And though he was depressed at times, he wasn't so low to think of ending it all for good. Pak still had a tiny bit of hope lodged down in his dark heart that Shen might still be alive, somewhere.

But he was trying, really trying, to fix his life. And taking up this job perhaps would be one in a long string of things that would lead him back. Not to the military; he didn't think he was ready for that quite yet and perhaps never would be. But away from the life he had been leading in the past year, smuggling unknown cargo for unknown people. The credits were good, really good, but after a scare on Umgul, reality had hit Pak. As a former military man, toting Sith artifacts was not exactly on the top of his list. So he had decided then and there to focus on other things, no longer smuggling but just ferreting people from place to place. A pilot and ship for hire.

* * *

That's how everything had started. He had just brought a couple of people to some backwater planet, Gamorr, Ylesia, Geonosis, he couldn't remember which anymore, and didn't need to. Sitting in a dirty cantina a man had come up to him and sat across from him without preamble. Though dulled a little by alcohol, his 'palps were still in working order. And though he didn't sense any hostility in the man's emotions, there was a certain nervousness lingering in his aura. The human was dressed unremarkably, obviously a trick to avoid being remembered later on. He spouted something about a job Pak was recommended for, after confirming he was indeed Pak, and handed over a datapad before leaving again.

Staring at the datapad, he hadn't seen the man leave. What was going on here? Normally his clients approached him directly for transport. Not by messenger. And certainly not be leaving him only a comm number to call. Pak finished his drink and curious, headed back to the spaceport to the Requiem to check this thing out. If anything, he could say no, right? Besides, perhaps it was just a high-profile client who wanted to travel inconspicuously or something. Pak dismissed the idea; someone like that would have real bodyguards. Unless it was a high-profile criminal... and that being the Balosar would not shuttle around. No way.

With another bottle of liquor in his hand back on his ship, he keyed the number. And after figuring out a half-hour later that his voice and name opened the message, it began to play. There was no personal attention, so Pak figured it had to have been recorded, perhaps sent to a bunch of beings, not just himself. The two people, well-dressed and important looking, explained the situation. Apparently there was a situation on Jaemus and the Senate had blocked any aid. But a few senators had gotten together and decided to help anyway, without the guidance of the Republic. Hence, where and the others came in, obviously. The job seemed easy enough: go to Jaemus, sneak in and drop off some supplies, then leave with his skin intact. His fingers itched for some action. Of course he agreed. And the payment didn't hurt, either.

Pak briefly wondered who exactly had recommended him for this job. It wasn't as if he ran into a lot of smugglers. Even when he was smuggling himself. And he doubted someone in the military had told a senator about him, and the information had come down those channels. He knew he was a crack-awesome pilot, but he was retired now. Any files would be collecting dust in an old datacard somewhere. But really, all that didn't matter; someone had thought of him, and this being had been right. This was just the sort of thing he would take on, for nothing else but the adrenaline of it.

Information relevant to the next stage of the deal popped up, revealing coordinates where they would pick up their supplies. A quick search told him it was Ithor. Another told him he had to jet immediately in order to make it across the galaxy in time for the meeting. Snapping into ready mode, he ran to the cockpit, forgetting his liquor on the comm console aft, and warmed up his ship. The red freighter lifted up a few minutes later and sped away from the dank planet he had been on an hour before. An hour before he had been relaxing, drinking. Now, he was off on a job, a real good job for some good people. People that paid well.

Never having been to Ithor before, Pak had had to admit the place was beautiful. After landing his bright red freighter among the others, luckily before the meeting, late the night before, he had taken a little time to survey his surroundings before catching a little shuteye and setting an alarm for the meeting the next morning. Dressing in what passed for his attire--plain trousers, shirt, boots, empty holster that he wore anyway--he shut down his ship and headed out, making a mental note to visit Ithor again when he had more time to appreciate it. And then making a mental note to ask himself if he was going soft.

The Balosar briefly surveyed the others that were there, not bothering to get names, and most focused on their ships: a male and female human who seemed to be together, a helmeted female, some others, a lone Cerean male, and then.... Shine? Pak didn't know what he was expecting, but he hadn't in a million blazes thought he'd see someone he knew at this job. For some laughable fate of the galaxy, he and the human seemed to run into each other at the most random times. Here he was again. He thought back to a few days ago when he had received the datapad. Had Shine recommended him?

But there was no time for that, as the actual meeting was coming up, and Pak knew he would need to listen for it. In case more details about the job and Jaemus were mentioned. The method of arrival was discussed, as was the location they would be dropping off their goods to. Same city but a different landing for each ship. Different arrivals, different dropoffs. So if one got caught, the rest wouldn't. A clean-cut military strategy. All this seemed relatively easy to him. There had to be a catch. And he knew the catch. It had be explained on the datapad message. Sith. Lots of 'em. But Pak knew he could handle it. He had been in plenty of dicey situations before.

Back on board, he stored away his password somewhere safe--opting to write it on the label of a bottle of liquor that was in the cockpit--and got ready for passage to Jaemus. Though his ship was his most prized possession, he had seen no reason to check the hold to make sure everything was packed evenly. The beings seemed to have used droids, which were generally more reliable than organic beings. Pak trusted that nothing wrong had been done him. And if so... well, then there was nothing he could do now.

* * *

A beeping woke him up from his slight doze, and Pak sat up. Time to exit hyperspace. Still with the bottle in one hand, he pulled the lever and the stars scrunched up, from lines back into dots. And the planet of Jaemus showed up ahead. He recognized Shine's ship off to the starboard side a couple klicks away, and then the others slowly appeared in the distance, farther away. Pak kept the Requiem on a path towards the planet, making no moves to indicate that he was with the others; they had merely arrived coincidentally at similar times.

His comm alerted him then to a message. Someone wanted to get chatty before the mission, it seemed. Pak liked to joke with the best of them, but in times like this, he was all business. He played the message anyway, and Shine's voice came over, sounding a bit over-important. Who made him boss? Just because he had been, presumably, approached first didn't make him the one in charge. For a moment Pak flashed back to a certain officer back when he was with the Ascension and cringed. It wasn't that he had a problem with a authority; he just had a problem when the authority knew they had it, and flaunted it around.

Pak thought about responding anyway; annoyance and alcohol dulling his common sense. Plus, he knew Shine now, after bumping into him again some time after Umgul. Maybe a little in-joke. But then another of the pilots spoke up, ruining the moment and leaving Pak's comment to his thoughts. By the sound of the voice, he wasn't sure who it was, but guessed it was the Cerean; he had looked over the ships back on Ithor. This Cas fellow seemed a little full of himself as well. How could they fly casual but also stay frosty? Whatever that meant.

As he engaged his own vector, away from the others, he wondered if that's how he sounded to others when he spoke. He could perhaps be a little cocky at times. But like that? No matter. Pak decided not to find out and stayed quiet, continuing towards the planet and the city of Jaetofella. When he got closer, he'd worry about the coordinates he was landing at.

But then the woman who had been on Ithor with the helmet responded as well, apparently thinking the same of Shine and Cas's messages as he had. He chuckled at her response. Pak had to agree with it. They weren't here to get all chummy with one another and give advice; they had a job to do, and all of them knew how to do it, otherwise they wouldn't be here. And least someone else besides himself saw that. Perhaps it would be worth getting to know her later... but only as a friend, of course. The Balosar no longer had any need for romance; he was too dead inside for that. Besides, he had no idea what she looked like; she could be hideous for all he knew. A great voice sometimes hide things.

Continuing on his approach point, he chuckled at another's comment about a tournament. He wasn't sure who it was, but enjoyed it nonetheless. They should be talking about mundane things anyway, and not just because they all knew their jobs. If this mission was truly as dangerous as it had sounded, there could be enemies listening on them. With that thought, Pak keyed a few buttons to keep his own signal encrypted. The others could still hear him, just not anyone else not on the list of departing ships from Ithor.

Then the other woman spoke up, breaking the ice started by Shine and Cas even further. Melody, he had learned. The other one being Namra, who had chided the others first. He even felt relaxed enough to offer his own comment. And especially since everyone else was being courteous enough to offer up a greeting, he probably should as well. He didn't want to be too... frosty. Just a little... casual... conversation. Maybe a dig at Shine. Something to point out he was easygoing but business-like all the same.

"I dunno about sabbacc.... but I do enjoy a good drinking game. How 'bout every time one you guys says 'casual' I take a drink?" He paused for effect, actually taking a couple glugs from his bottle. Stars, that tasted good, just what he needed. "And if Mr Alberts over there can stop mumbling about the Force, and Big Head over there hasn't frozen over yet, maybe we can actually get some work done." Pak knew Shine wouldn't take offense; when they had met again out of the blue a while back, he had reminded the Balosar of what his last name really was. Now, it was just a joke. That Cerean, on the other hand... hopefully he wouldn't shoot the Requiem out of the sky until after they delivered their supplies.

After transmitting his approach vector to the others, to make sure no one came in near him, he added, "See you on the flip side, boys. And a bottle of Corellian whiskey to the one who drops off first!" He hadn't meant to add that little bet at the end, but he couldn't help himself. Hitting the thrusters, he increased speed, overtaking the Cerean Cas, though they were many klicks apart. Just because it was a serious mission, didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. His version of business-like was 90% serious, 10% adventure. No way he'd turn into a stuck-up being like that Zeltron Crass on Ascension was.

[Zarkan]

The sith admiral known as Barj looked impassively out the window of his state room the blue orb of Jaemus covering his entire view save for the passage of a small military ship or a orbital platform. The gungan turned back to his heavy syth wood desk and the chamber he had made his state room as he did so he wore a lopsided smirk. Another cell obliterated the report that lay on his desk had informed him another dozen obstacles removed, but still the world wasn't entirely cowled. Snaking a long steel talon out he opened a channel to the mighty dreadnought's gunnery station. "Chief Saliz schedule a bombardment exorcise in the kalfa mountains for the next solar cycle." the raspy voice of the admiral intoned before he silenced the connection. Another day, another show of might it was all becoming so routine as to be tedious all he could hope for was a errant ship drifting out of it's sanctioned route or a fool hardy ship being turned to dust in a useless attempt to resupply worthless naive rebels.

[Silas]

“And what in the graces of His Holiness might you recommend?” The creature rounded on those to who looked at him with something that seemed eerily like reverence. Oh, frailty! Ungodly frailty, why must you beseech those in such a high standing position. he thought whilst he spoke aloud among those around him once more, “Should we just march our brazen selves into their defenses and slaughter them all, leave them to die amongst their disillusioned ideas?”

Nervous eyes flitted about the room whilst his strong gaze turned on each of them in turn to peer upon their importance upon this council. For now they were a disappointment and they deserved to feel the sweat that dripped down their brows, to hear the beating of their own heart. They deserved the quickness their breath had taken as they looked at him with wide eyes that feigned courage and yet all he saw was naivety. All of them deserved to feel the fear, for he had been known on occasion to make an example of failure, which they had chosen to be on this very occasion. Anger seethed from him as he griped the papers in his hands.

“I know some of you wish to squash this rebellion, but you must know one thing,” He told them all in turn as his voice boomed out with a confidence few of them would never know, “If we kill them all, then they will never know the truth; the light to which the Great One has shown us all here. We know the true nature of the Empire, and yet they are simply led astray by the lies of those Jedi! Such perilous lies they are, too. We must convert them, my friends, for it is the only way to true enlightenment!”

The Kiffar’s gloved fingers rested gently on the edge of the large metal table where they had gathered to discuss their next strategy, and the audacity of these people to suggest they simply annihilate the enemies. Even he was not so simple as to assume they were simple nerfs to be herded into the slaughter pen when they were fattened up; no, to win this war they must win the hearts of these people. The Gods had spoken to him to bring light to those who had none, and all of these on this planet were so desolate. Every being on here seemed to be shrouded in darkness he could not fathom and from the moment he stepped foot on here he knew he would be the one to free them from the torment! For the Gods themselves had willed it, and they had not lied to him yet.

“In the end, they will see the light. For They have prophesied it. They have told me of it, my friends,” Some of them shifted unconsciously in their seats almost as if they were uncomfortable all of a sudden. So they did not believe? They thought him crazy, perchance? Well, he would show them. All of them would know soon enough the truth to the words he had heard, the truth which only he could know.

A light shone in his eyes, though, he knew it for he had seen the true face of his Gods while these people only heard stories of them. Today would be a day wherein all would realize just how vital he was to the movement of this Empire and his reign would begin; so it was foretold.

“Erm, Sir? And what if the resistance does not turn their eyes? What then shall we do?” His second in command asked carefully, trying to sound encouraging, but Commander Tarkad could sense the doubt; he was not stupid.

For a second he clicked his tongue before he answered, “Oh, they will. However, if by some chance they don’t then I will be forced to show them the true might of our Gods, good sirs. A might which will make them tremble indeed.”

The others seemed a little more subdued by this, which made his anger flare up even more as he turned around briskly to walk away. The people behind him began to chatter amongst themselves quietly but he made no turn to listen to them for he was done with their heresy, and their doubt. His reward would be great some day, and for that he had no desire to listen to them any longer. Silently he made a quick motion while he prayed to the Gods to grant him wisdom on the days to come as a voice filled his mind.

“Be weary for they will try to betray you when you need them most,” The voice came to him as a thundering cacophony while he walked, and he knew what it meant. Once again the Gods had chosen to bestow him with a warning, one which he would not forget lightly. Sorrow wrenched his soul for he knew he would be forced to kill some of them, and dispose the rest. No man or God could soften the hardened heart of a heretic.

The commander continued one while he left those behind him to get a change of clothes and perhaps something to eat before he headed out into the city for an errand.

[Jazen]

Shine listened for the most part in utter silence as the others, bursting through the blackness of space, made their arrival and "reported" as such. Like the smugglers they were, it was never a simple "we are here, acknowledged" kind of response, but a diverse chatter, almost as if they were all sitting in a bar somewhere, knocking back a few drinks. It was to be expected; if they responded like a group of folks on a mission...which Shine had done to a degree(though they had been long outside comm range of the planet when he did that) then the Sith guardians might have suspected that there was more then meets the eye to this sudden flight of smuggler craft. That was good; the less chance they had of being found out, the better.

And it was, to a degree, a good way of getting to know his fellow smugglers. They had only had a small chance to meet before getting tossed to what was looking more and more of a meat grinder. Now, with the grinder slowly drawing them in, he would get a chance first hand to see what they did under the heat. This of course, only applied to Cas and Melody actually; he'd seen Sam and Pak's skills firsthand, Sam's on more then one occasion under different circumstances. She would be fine. Pak was a tough little guy as well, despite his slightly smaller frame and frailer look; Shine hadn't forgotten trying to keep him within range on Umgul...and likely wouldn't anytime soon. As for Athar and his fellow Bha'lir ships, the Nautolan had proven himself on Tatooine to be just as driven and quick as Shine found himself being at times. As for the Bha'lir's that had come with the pair...well, if they were hear, it meant they were skilled too. That made him grin; maybe if Athar didn't glare at him every time he got near, he might get a chance to see if these Bha'lir we're recruiting. They seemed to be what he ended up being more often then not.

The first to respond after Shine was the Cerean, Cas Tarshann. His craft the Ryder; a modified Bouncer-Class Light Freighter, calmly lined up with Shine's ship a fair distance away, both ships holding to their respective approach lanes. Both men couldn't see each other, but there was likely a respective nod in the others direction; at least Shine did that as he looked out his viewport to watch the Ryder out of the corner of the window for a moment. Shine winced when Cas's first communication was no better then his own in the terms of hiding their secret, but again, they were still safely out of the Sith fleet's comm's. He had to snicker at the man's comment about flying casual though; everything the man did seemed "casual." He smiled to Vis when Cas said he was taking the lead though. Shine didn't have a problem with that. Gave him time to think of something if frell hit the fan if someone else sprung the trap.

"By all means, take the lead. I mean, if that old rust bucket you got there can take the lead after all."

He was jesting with the man, praying that if someone did pick up anything from their comm's, all they'd get was smugglers sending compliments and insults at one another. Nothing out of the usual....he hoped. Besides, any serious communications he would send would be through Vis if he had too; the Familiar knew how to encrypt a message so tightly Shine wondered if even he knew how to unwind his work. They wouldn't need that level of cover but it was good to know he could do it if the time came. He did have Vis encrypt any future messages anyway though; he didn't want anyone hearing what he was saying but the others.

Next to speak up was a voice Shine knew all too well. And it was one he was glad to hear for any reason, save for maybe when she was scolding him for something he didn't mean to do. She didn't speak much, especially since it appeared that she was speaking for the entire group, but Sam had her way of saying plenty with few. He'd learned that a few times already and was beginning to wonder how she did it so fluidly. Her's so far was the best in terms of simplicity and to hide the true nature of why they were hear. And, as a matter of fact, gave them something to use as a ground for comm chatter that kept them in the clear. Athar added to it a moment later, his voice coming loud and clear over the main comm as he suggested they talk about a Sabacc tournament the week before. Of course, there was no way to tell which tournament that was since there was likely several going on in the galaxy at anyone one time but again, distraction from the main purpose.

He was about to reply to that when Sam sent another message over the main line. And this one caught him so by surprise that Vis instinctively took over the flying of the ship for a moment as Shine almost face planted himself into his console laughing. He just managed to kill the comm before the fit came over him and, after a minute or two of seeing how much water he could bleed from his eyes as he laughed, the fit faded. Wiping the water from his eyes and letting the final chuckles out, he clicked his comm back on to both listen and reply.

But again, someone managed to speak before he got a chance. This time it was the other woman on this trip, the one named Melody. Like Cas, Shine wasn't familiar with her like he was the others, though he figured she either had skill or a secret set of gonads stored away to come on this mission. Maybe a bit of both. Or perhaps that hulking figure that had accompanied her gave her a little more confidence then she normally had. He had to admit; if he had a hulking figure that like that watching his back, he'd be a little bolder too. Not that he wasn't bold enough mind you; but at least bold with insurance rather then just cockiness like all Corellians seemed to have.

Shine had to bit his tongue to keep from laughing again as Melody's words came over the comm, especially over that last bit. Out of the lot of them, it appeared that she had the best grasp on how to speak over the comm's and not give ANYTHING away. And considering the nature of what they were just about to do, her random and cheerful tone and words were more then welcome. Glancing over to Vis again, he patted the little guy on the head as he clicked his comm to life. He struggled for a response though, so he powered down the comm for a moment more, to think. In that time, Vis found it in him to respond in his own way to the words of the others.

"Ms Sam really put the light on you, didn't she?"

"Yea, she did. That Melody girl didn't help my gut find peace either. But that's good; we're about to be in the dung pretty deep here. Having an upbeat mood and good morale will do us a world of wonder. Besides, at least they aren't complete stiffs like some of the folks I've met are like."

"Perhaps. Analysis of Sam's words are correct; we are off course. Our entry point is....this path." The little droid reached up to the console with his paw and patted it against an access port, glancing at the navigation station to his side. Shine eyed it for a moment as the route Vis was speaking of appeared, then the route they were currently taking. When he saw they didn't overlap, Shine cursed in Corellian. Lightly tugging on the controls, Shine made the appropriate course correction, making sure to do it as smoothly as possible to avoid making it seem more then simple drift. When the lines matched up on his screen, he eased up on the stick(so to speak) and held the Cat's course steady. Satisfied he was good, he clicked the comm to life again.

" Just to let you know Ms. Chipper, I always take my coffee as steamy as it can get. Tastes much better that way and is well worth the extra effort it takes to get it that way. Oh, if you see a falling star though, call it out so I can make a wish too. Would hate to miss a chance for that.

And to you Ms Namra; your right, I was out of place. I should be right on track now, provided someone else doesn't want to ride the road I chose. And no no no, you never ask to go out for coffee before you're leaving a planet. You agree to it after; that way you have a confirmed reason to meet again later. A way to be sure you'll meet up with that person, provided they don't bail for some reason or another. So I'll see you after the flight at say, 6 for tea and biscuits? My place of course."

He nodded to Vis, who watched him for a moment before pondering whether or not to send Sam another message. In the end, he decided against it. Sam, he figured, was intelligent enough to catch the underlying message in that statement. "Agreeing to after means your promising to get outta this alive." Humans, he realized, were good at saying one thing completely unrelated and yet, could be read into another meaning entirely. It was both clever and pointless in his eyes; why beat around the bush when the direct sending of information was much easier and less of a hassle. Still, Shine did that more often then not and if he didn't...well, that just showed how serious the matter was. Even if he was joking and flirting like he was enjoying a day at the tables.

Last but not least was Pak. The man, last to go, picked his words just as carefully as the latter speakers had, commenting on topics already spoken about. Shine had to snort out another laugh at the words that came from Pak; the man knew how to have a good time despite heading towards a Sith fleet. A fleet that would pound them into space dust if they knew why they were here. Shine especially liked, as Melody had done before and as Shine was learning to do, how he used false names between them. True, if they were inspected they may have to give their real name, especially if they checked the registry against them....but maybe he could...well, he'd deal with that when the time came. He keyed the comm once more, lightly chuckling his response.

"You heard him guys. Don't go saying the Cas word too much. Wouldn't want him flying drunk you know; fly safely, don't get behind the wheel while intoxicated. But take it easy there Mr Papo; stick to the light stuff if you must pour something into your tank. I don't want you running to the bathroom every five minutes when its time for business to pick up."

And hey, it better not be my whiskey your thinking of putting up for bet there. That stuff is expensive you know, especially to get it fresh."

He watched with a smile as Pak and the Requiem suddenly shot forward, overtaking him, the others and finally, Cas's ship, which had taken the lead. Despite the seriousness in his tone, Pak obviously had a tiny bit of play lurking in that mind and body of his, which made Shine grin even wider. That's right....just act like we normally would. We'll be in and out of there before the Sith fools even realize that we just gave the people they're treating like dirt the supplies to get themselves back on their feet. Maybe even give them the strength to cause some havoc that will keep the folks round here from going coreward. "Course, when has anything I've been a part of gone right? Okay, maybe running into Sam on Umgul but that's besides the point; that wasn't a job." He mentally slapped himself back to the task at hand.

Everything would go right.....it should go right....as long as they were careful. That thought tore at him as he watched Cas and Pak start to come upon the Sith fleet at their respective points. He figured that once they were entering the range of the ship's or more specifically their weapons, that a transmission would come to each of them declaring that they state their reason for being here. Shine already had his covered; he was simply delivering supplies for the hard working men and woman of the Sith military. Little did they know that those supplies would go missing....and that they would suddenly be in the hands of those they oppressed. It was almost poetic...almost.

Shine glanced at Vis once, more, nodding to the droid who nodded in return. Both their eyes fell on the growing darkness of ships before them...and then Shine's drifted to watch the first of their group descend into the madness. When his turn came, he nodded to Vis before entering in the code he'd been given for entry.

"This is Shine Albatros, codes for landing entered and sent."

[Casual]

He had half a mind to turn off the comms right then and there. He kept his cool, however. He always kept his cool. Each and every one of the smugglers pointed out the humor in his choice of words. He was fine with it though, he'd been pegged with and had lived through much worse situations than taking a bit of intoned criticisms. He also had bigger fish to fry.

Now that he had taken the lead on everyone, he was nearing well within the comm range of the Sith's station. The chatter would be required to cease now. They wouldn't make it three klicks if they kept a dialog like this going when entering Sith space. He did have time, however, to respond to one of them, as the others he had suddenly gained a heavy disinterest in speaking with:

Hey, I'll drink to that... Pak, was it? Either way, I'll gladly take ya up on that one.[/b]

With that he turned to Deera, made sure everything they'd planned was in order, and settled in for the ride.

Cas hailed the Sith before they could contact him, he was, for all intents and purposes, a zealous businessman coming to scope out the scene on-planet for the Sith soldiers, his prices too good to refuse and would doubtless be a morale asset.

This is Doc Carsan, pleasurable paraphernalia extraordinaire! What your boys can legally possess on the field and enjoy, thus making greater soldiers for all of us, I got it. Requesting permission to land, sending credentials now.[/b]

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

“Well, Eagle’s still intact so everything’s spiffy…”

That was good to know.

”Heh…spiffy, eh? I think I like this one…” she muttered to herself. Well, it was more like muttering to all the Bha’lir with her since she tended to keep that line open consistently. She’d not really gotten a chance to talk to this Melody girl, and to be fair, Sam hadn’t been sure she’d wanted to (some of the female smugglers out there just grated on her nerves), but this one seemed okay so far.

“And we’re flying cas-u-al, so not to worry. Oh, and it’s supposed to be sunny with a chance of falling stars.”

”Oh-ho lordy…”

“Any other silly questions needin’ answered? Be-SIDES the one where we question the steaminess of Shiny and Pretty Lady’s coffee?”

Oh, now that she had to reply to…it was just too perfect.

Flipping on the main com, she chuckled lightly.

”Pretty Lady, eh? That’s a new one…makes me wonder where you got that idea. As for steaminess…” she’d let out a low whistle at that. ”Well…the coffee itself is pretty steamy, I gotta say. But I think you mighta been implying somethin’ else, Miss Vivacious.” She couldn’t help but laugh quietly as Athar grumbled into his headset…and thus, across the comms…about big sticks and not wanting to hear more about ‘steamy’ in conjunction with Shine and ‘Pretty Lady’. ”Don’t mind the grumpy nauto…he likes to play guard dog.”

That, of course, earned more grumbling (though it ended with a quiet chuckle) before he was heard properly over the main comm once more. ”Ain’t dat da truth. Dis gerl cause me moar problem dan anyone else, let me tell ya. She need a guard dog or force know what might happen wit ‘er.”

”Oh yes, Goddess forbid! I might have a life!”

Another small fit of chuckling from Sam (and somewhere in the background she could swear she heard Ni’perra laughing) and the comm went silent for half a moment before Shine finally piped up. Oh yes, the falling stars, she’d forgotten to mention that…ah well. All she could do was lift a brow at his comment to her, however, and snicker quietly as she readjusted her course slightly and eyed her readouts.

”Yeah…I have to say, I'm not fond of the ‘falling stars’ bit in the weather forecast here. While pretty, I don’t feel like dodging them ‘til I'm on my way out of here. Tea and biscuits? Really? Come on now, Cat-eyes…I thought you were Corellian! However, I see your coffee, and I’ll raise you lunch.”

Had she picked up on his meaning? More or less, sure…but she’d learned not to dwell too much on the possibilities unless she had a way to possibly avoid them. A good example was Tatooine. She had been in charge, the potential for success or failure resting in her hands as far as coming up with a good plan that would keep possible casualties or FUBARs to a minimum. At that point she’d worried about what might happen…all the what-ifs…because they’d mattered. Her planning for contingencies had been a priority so that they could all make it out in one piece. In other words, she’d had to dwell on the possibilities…but again, only to a point. Now, however, was not a time she could allow herself to stew on the ‘what-ifs’ since they would only make her jumpy and tense.

As a former fighter pilot, she knew that sort of thing rarely worked out well. She had to be relaxed and focused. So, skipping his deeper meaning (for the most part), kept her that way. In the long run it would be better for everyone that way…a grouchy Sam was never a good thing. Speaking of former fighter pilots, Shine was chatting it up with the final pilot to speak up…and speaking of the balosar, his bet had the nostalgia seeping into her mind again. Wow…if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was a former Seven by that remark.

”Sounds like I should spam the word ‘casual’ then…and you know what…I am ALL OVER that bet! Let’s go booming Driver. C’mon playmates, don’t fall behind the power curve!”

Falling into old lingo, Sam pushed the Exodus’ speed to catch up to the leaders projected positions. Whether Pak was good on the bet or not, she was ready to go…now, anyway. Chuckling to herself, she could almost hear Sev griping at her and Archer to ‘throttle back an’ snuggle up’…wow, she missed those days. But…with every cloud there was a silver lining, this one just happened to be that she could have some fun and it would be expected. Just so long as she didn’t lose sight of the original goal, or what was going on around her, she’d be fine. Speaking of fine, she was closing in on the Ryder and the Requiem....not to mention the sith. Ah well, time to send her codes, which was exactly what she did.

Imperial landing codes, coming right up.

"Namra Raquad here, landing code sent."

[Squee]

Upon the Pax guy's comments being added to the bunch, Melody scrambled and keyed her reply through: “Casualcasualcasual…. Heehee…”And then fell silent with a giant grin on her face as she negotiated Eagle more to the right. She was some distance off… for some reason. As she righted the ship to reach her designated position for entry, she flicked on the comm. once again, giggling. “Casual.” Silence. She listened to the chatter.

Laughing undertones were a blessing to hear, except from the one big, mean looking alien guy. Both Shine and the Namra woman, or Narma (or whatever), snickered back their replies to her previous comments, and once again, Melody opened up her end:

“Awww… well, I figured you had to be DROP-DEAD gorgeous to hide your face behind such a casual mask. You know…” She paused and smiled wickedly. “So SOME people would focus on STEERIN’ casual instead of dreamin’ of too much steamy coffee. Happy to hear some of ya like it hot. Just don’t casually spill it. I hope you’re keeping up Mr. Liquor-Drinking-Man... Yeah, I think I'm going to rename you Mr. Something-Shorter-Than-Mr.-Liquor-Drinking-Man."

Melody coughed, gave the ship a slight jerk to align better with the entry point. She heard a crash and a soft curse and she twisted her head to check the red-eyed bounty hunter. “I told you to sit down. Or meant to. Don’t look at me in that tone of voice!

“Anyway, as for falling stars… I’ll find ya one even if I have to shoot confetti across the sky and we have to pretend it’s a star. Because when you wish upon a star, dreams come true. In position. Signin’ off for now. Oh, wait, hey, and Gramps in the lead: Smile! …or find some steamy coffee.” Melody clicked off for good now, noticing how the Sith ships were getting a wee too close.

She sucked in a deep breath. The Sith were a group of people she hadn’t had the chance to… intimately deal with. Because of their new arrival and serious reputation for being superior on the grumpy scale, Melody had decided that there must be an intricate way of doing business with them… without being a target for… grumpiness. And bullying. And outright anger. Melody was no mother but she knew she wouldn’t take a tantrum from a child.

“Let’s send in the codes and see what the gods have in store for us…” Fingers of one hand tapped as the other hand pushed forward on the throttle.

[Mara]

Pak was pretty sure he hadn't had this much fun in over a year, since his military days. Probably even in his entire life. It didn't matter that he was now flying a freighter instead of a snubfighter. It was still the same rush of adrenaline, and for a few moments, as the Requiem sped forward away from the other smugglers and ever closer to the Sith blockade, he forgot about everything. All there was was him and his ship, moving as one. Flawlessly and smoothly hurtling forward through space.

But then his sensor board lit up, announcing the quickly approaching ships, and he cut his speed just slightly, knowing he had to come up with a reason for wanting on planet. That had to wait, though, as his comm also crackled back to life with Shine's voice coming through. Pak only half-listened as he kept the front part of his attention on the task at hand: not getting himself blasted into dust by the enemy before delivering his cargo.

He had to chuckle at part of the man's response; him, getting drunk? Man, that Shine was a laugh a minute. Had he learned nothing on their brief encounters in the past? The Balosar wanted to retort something back to that effect, but held back. If he got into an extended conversation right now, despite how great a pilot he was, he could put himself into some danger. He was good, very good, but this was the first time he was not in a fighter going against the enemy. They were just to get through, not engage; he was only in his red freighter, masquerading as a smuggler who yet had no reason to land on planet.

Finally, though, he decided to say something. He just couldn't help himself. It was probably in his genes to be a little bit of a smart-ass. "No worries, Alberts. This whiskey was a special delivery from your mother." Pak paused a bit for a swig of his bottle to calm his nerves a bit before settling it back down again. That Sith fleet was growing in his viewscreen by the minute. Soon, he'd he have to go on comm silence. Better get all the fun out now, while he could. "She says hello, by the way!"

Signing off for the moment then but keeping the comm open, he let the others keep on talking in the background--a couple others spewing out the word 'casual' for larks--and decided not to respond unless directly spoken to. He had to figure out a reason for being here on Jaemus. And quick. Pak felt sure that the Sith fleet would begin to get nervous and start jabbing him with questions. Better just to transmit his information and keep on going, only explaining himself if they hailed him. Sometimes he thought better on the fly, anyway. Whether it was a risky maneuver or an excuse for the Sith, the best ones always came suddenly, and not without a lot of thought.

With the codes away, and hopefully being acknowledged by the closest battle cruiser, the large one he assumed to be the command ship, he kept on going. The red arrow-shaped freighter barreled towards the Sith fleet, making for a gap between a couple frigates. Pak kept to his original vector, only adjusting here and there to keep on a path of the least resistance and trouble from the enemy ships. As much fun as it would be to take them on and try out his guns, he had a different, more important job to do. And he needed to be alive to do it, or else he didn't get paid. Afterwards, though...

[Jazen]

The one trait any pilot needed was the ability to keep a level head while under pressure. It allowed them to make clear choices, react accordingly to new threats or their wing mates in danger and ultimately keep from becoming a statistic on a data pad. And ever since becoming a smuggler, Shine had found that having that cool head was something also much needed to fulfill that role as well.

After all, if he didn't have it, or if any of the others weren't capable of that, the sight of those massive warships baring their way might actually cause them to panic and flee. Or worse yet...expose them all. And with all the firepower that the ships likely had trained on them, fleeing would not be the flavor of the day. Being vaporized or captured would be; both fates something Shine would love to avoid ever having the pleasure of enduring.

One of the things Shine found that was helping send those worries into the void of space was listening to the chatter between him and the other pilots, as well as what they said to each other as well. The fact that any of them could crack a joke or speak in such playful tones in the face of mortal danger amused him greatly and more to the point, kept him from wandering his mind into the dark "what if's" that were on the edge of his mind, threatening to break through his cool mask and doom him to the plague that was making a mistake.

Slow and steady now that the fleet of starships were engulfing him, Shine's eyes moved from left to right in studying fashion, trying to get a count of how many of them there really were. His sensors read around thirty or so, but some of the ships were so massive that if a ship was in their wake or behind them, the sensors might not have picked it up. A damn shame, considering he'd just upgraded the sensor package. Or they had stealth ships hidden away behind their larger counterparts, just waiting for someone to try and cause trouble. Can't much prepare for a ship that wasn't there before. Ugly little surprise he'd heard rumors about them using in some of the battles they'd been in.

Going down that road Shine. It's just another run, another job. Only they won't be as friendly as the Republic would be if we're caught......but other then that, piece of cake.

Returning his mind to what the others had said, Shine first mused on what Sam had said. Sam.....he'd been in a situation where trouble and death had been breathing down your back before with her. Having her in the same position with him again...well that was actually comforting. He knew that at least one of his comrades would be able to watch his back, one he could trust. Smiling to himself at her words, Shine replied calmly and with a hint of growing amusement. Before they were sucked into the fleet of course.

"Well Pretty Lady, that does sound like a much better deal then my offer. Tell you what; I'm all in. Dinner and dancing, on me of course. And I'll have you back before midnight so your "guard dog" doesn't worry."

Next was Melody, although Shine had to boost the power of his engines a bit to keep Sam from overtaking him. Call it whatever you like...Shine wanted to go before her. If there was any trouble, then at least he could warn her back quick that way. He had after all, grown a soft spot for her since their last meeting.

"Well Ms Chipper, the best kind of coffee is the kind that gets you going, just like that. So the hotter the better; and I plead the 5th about the face behind the mask. More mysterious and alluring that way. And how about we call him Mr Drinks? I think that would be a fitting name for him."

And then there was Pak. His comment...well, there wasn't much to say in reply to that. Other then a silent chuckle and a pray to his mother. It was ironic, actually; his parents were both cops and yet here in the fringes of space, Shine was doing something they'd be able to arrest him for. Good thing he didn't have any plans on returning home to talk about what he'd been doing for a long while still.

"Well if she says hello, I say hello back. Just be careful; my mother knows a mean bottle of whiskey when she sees one. Take it slowly or you'll end up seeing stars when there aren't any around."

As each of them passed into silence and gave off their codes, Shine kept one hand stiff on the throttle. Cas was the first one in, though from what Vis had been working on when they'd been on route, the man had a better cover then the rest of them combined. And that was having a legitimate reason for being here. The best cover of all was the one that wasn't being faked and had official weight behind it after all. So he passed by into the armada of ships without much trouble or incident.

Next in the group was Shine..and giving Vis a look and crossing his fingers, he waited for the reply to his own message. Cas may have had the codes like the rest of them, but like Shine had already mused, he likely had more official codes he could have used to get past the fleet. Or maybe his name rung in the heads of the Sith captains and they let him pass because of it. If either of those things were true, Shine would be the first real test to see whether or not those codes worked. One hand was steady on the stick, the other holding a silent signal to Vis. If this didn't work....Vis was ready to send a message to Sam that it was a no go and to try and get out. And hopefully she would warn the others.

The sudden reply made him jump a little after the relative silence and the tension, but he settled quickly in to listen to it.

"Captain Albartos, your codes check out. You're clear to make for the planet. Planet control will designate you a landing zone after you have cleared the fleet. Be warned; any attempt to create hostile action will result in "painful" consequences. Good day and flying to you."

The threat behind the words wasn't missed, but at least it was safe to say that whoever was captaining that ship wasn't itching for target practice. Even the Sith could have respectable men in uniform it seemed. One in a million maybe. Signalling to Vis not to send the message, Shine's hand moved back to tap the comm for his response. Clearing his throat and making sure there wasn't any sign of the worry in his throat, Shine smiled and replied in his best casual tone.

"Understood Captain, and may the same flying gods see you good fortune as well. Good day. Albartos out." Clicking the comm off, Shine eased the ship forward with a little bit more speed now that he had the clearance to do so. The faster they got in and out, the better. Tilting his head slightly, Shine glanced down to the sensors to watch as the others came through. Sam was next...and as with all of them, Shine prayed that they would make it through just as he had. But he was pulling for the ladies a little bit more....

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

I’mma make this short

---

“Codes are cleared. Sending you the landing coordinates now. I don’t need to tell you that wandering elsewhere will have you in trouble.”

Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. ”I think you just did, but yeah…I’ve got the picture. Aaaaand I’ve got the coordinates. Thanks much gentleman, I’ll be sure to wear my good dress and be on my best behavior.” Clicking the comm. off again, she smirked to herself. Even the big bad Imperials couldn’t resist a pretty voice, and just in case someone decided to check her ship, she’d had all the crates stowed in the smuggling compartments, boxes of holozines and pin-up posters and card decks and other merchandise soldiers tended to want to get their hands on (including some of the more unmentionable sort) kept in crates in easy sight.

Hey, she hadn’t always been a smuggler…and she knew what the guys liked.

The others from the Bha’lir sounded like they were getting through just as easily over their ‘community’ comm. and that was a good thing. So far so good; still, Sam knew they still had a long way to go for this little trip to be over. ”Can’t wait to get back…” she muttered to herself and brought the Exodus around to angle in on her designated coordinates. Not long now…