Public All Aboard the Ronto Express

[Nadi]

There was a pleasant rumble deep in her bones as the Ronto pushed away from Sullust, the vibration of the engines bringing a comfort she hadn't felt in over a week spent planetside. Kark, that was a long layover.... Why they gotta make everything so kriffing loud and obnoxiously bright? Might be worth it though. It's been a while since we've had both paying customers and a decent haul of cargo. She was relieved to finally be clear of the sights and sounds of the city, though admittedly she had brought some of them with her.

She could hear them, moving around in the passenger accommodations below, carrying on conversations and making new acquaintances. Good, paying customers in need of a quick trip to Corellia and willing to pay private rates instead of booking a passenger liner. They'd met her once when they booked passage, then again when they boarded and she explained the rules. They might see her a handful more times throughout the trip, but she didn't make a habit of mingling. And most people are grating anyway. She absently patted the metal control casing next to her with the familiarity of a long-time conversation partner. This better not turn into another interdictor incident.

As the ship pushed clear of Sullust's gravity well, she began calculating the jump and a handful of seconds later felt the deep rumble of the ship's engines rise to a feverish pitch, then ease, and finally cease altogether as the hyperdrive took over and the stars streaked into long lines.

Okay, time for the due diligence. She spent the better part of the next hour reviewing ship logs and maintenance done while the Ronto had been stationary planetside, catching herself up on everything pertaining to her home, then stood and headed toward the back half of the cockpit, snagging a ration pack on the way. The sound dampener kept most of the sounds on the ship down to a bearable minimum, and the cockpit lights were habitually locked to 7% illumination. It's nice to be back aboard She stretched a hammock across the cockpit next to the door, stripped out of her overclothes, then flicked the lights all the way off and settled in, tearing the ration pack open with her teeth. It's not gourmet by any stretch, but it's this or trying to use the galley in the common room down below, and that is NOT happening.

 

[Saul Whesai]

Wearing traveling clothes and his usual duffle bag over his back, Saul stretched his long arms out and grunted as he got the kinks out of his worn body. He had been sent on a trip by the Farworlds to get deals on spare parts from wherever he could find them. Even if that meant going onto Sith factory worlds like Sullust and making equipment fall off assembly lines. The Sith probably wouldn't miss it, probably... All Saul was told was that the Farworlds needed that equipment far more than they did, and he tended to agree.

Saul walked up the YV-929's boarding ramp. His next stop was Corillia, another place that might have parts the Farworld needed, and with its Republic affiliation, it might be more willing to give up the starship parts the Jedi needed. And so he had booked the first flight he could find that was decent, and that was the Ronto. It was a little pricey, but at least he could blend in among the other travelers and slip away out of Sith Territory without a trace.

Finding his cabin, he checked into it using the reservation on his datapad, the door parting to allow him to come in and put his stuff down. Now all he could do was sit and wait for the ship to take off and jump into hyperspace. Unfortunately, the universe often has other plans.

As he was taking a load off on the bed, thinking about texting Nyra Kairo he was okay when the room's electrical panel suddenly imploded, sending out sparks as the lid blew open. The Cyborg guessed a fuse blew as the room descended into darkness. The good thing was it was probably localized, and the whole ship wasn't going to lose power. Nothing to do now but try to repair it at the risk of an angry Captain who didn't like their stuff being touched. And so he pulled out his repair tools from his bag and went to work, trying to pry the fried fuse out with gloved hands while trying to hold a flashlight to the panel so he could see the damage. Here's to hoping he had the right spare among his meager supplies.

Nadi

 

[Nadi]

With the deep rumble of the engines gone and replaced with the quiet hum of hyperspace, Nadi was only a few bites into the ration pack when her ears picked out the telltale clink of tools in use. Eyes narrowed as she reached for the sound dampening unit and powered it down to seventy percent of max, and.... yup. That was definitely tools.

<Kark.>

She huffed a heavy breath as she swung her feet out of the hammock, grabbed the dampening unit, then stood and headed back to the pilot's chair. A quick scroll through the ship's security feeds confirmed no one was messing with the engines or had tools out in any of the common areas, so it must have been someone in their cabin where the holocams weren't.

<Kriffing perfect. Now I gotta go talk to someone.>

The deck thudded under her feet as she stomped back to the hammock and yanked her pants on with more force than was strictly needed, then tucked the hammock away and grabbed her shirt as she slapped the door release and stepped out of the cockpit.

She was wearing the shirt by the time she pulled open the mid-deck hatch and slid down the ladder, but her expression forestalled any greeting from the pair of passengers passing the time in the ship's parlor. It only took a moment to identify the correct cabin as she closed her eyes and listened, at which point she stalked up to the door and keyed in the captain's override to unlock and slide it open; not even bothering to check if it was actually locked.

As soon as the occupant looked up at her from what he was doing, her hands flew into motion with a vigor that any sentient who understood galactic basic sign language would immediately identify as shouting.

What the kriff are you...

Then she stopped dead mid-sentence, took a breath, and reminded herself that most people couldn't communicate in galactic basic sign language. She reached down to her dampening field and tuned it down to 30% so she wouldn't have to shout at him, inhaled sharply as every other sound on the ship jumped several decibels, then leveled her eyes at.... a quick review of her memory offered the name "Saul" from the passenger manifest. When she spoke, her voice was only slightly calmer than her hands had been.

"What the kriff are you doing to my ship?"

Saul Whesai​

​

 

[Saul Whesai]

Saul was in the middle of rustling through his repair bag to see if he had the right fuze when the door opened, talking to himself. "Come on... Come on... I know I had at least one..." That was before he discovered a very tall, pale woman looking daggers at him in a way that could only mean she wanted to kick his behind, standing in the doorway. It had been a while since he had used since he had used sigh language, at least a year or so. Still, he tried his best to calm who he assumed was the freighter's captain, signing. "It broken...Me fix..." It was probably the best he could do to not get hit with her worn fists.

The Cybrog raised an eyebrow as she reached down to adjust her belt, backing away from the panel and plopping on the bed. It was clear that his repairs were going to have to wait. He could help but smirk, though, as her voice appeared. "Ah, seems like you speak to stupid repairmen after all." Reaching down, he pulled up his ratty traveling cloak's long sleeves and pulled down his synth skin to show the augmetics underneath. Saul gestured vaguely to the damping field she had adjusted. "So... how far along the robot road are you...?" It was an attempt at an icebreaker that wouldn't get him thrown out an airlock.

Nadi

 

[Nadi]

Ironically, the attempted icebreaker was one of the few things he could have said that might actually get him closer to an airlock.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction.

<How the kriff does he know about my implants?>

None of them were visible externally, and there were far more non-implant reasons one might want to use a sound dampening field. That alone wouldn't have given him the certainty his tone seemed to hold. Which means it was either a lucky guess... <Or he's working for them, and has intel on me and what they gave me.>

Which ordinarily would have gotten him a swift boot out the aforementioned airlock, but she'd never encountered someone under their employ who would have been as careless as this man, though that specific affiliation would explain why he was messing with the room's electrical panel. Some kind of sabotage attempt, most likely. She was a hairsbreadth from grabbing him and bodily tossing him into the airlock when she gathered an effort of will and pushed that line of thinking out of her head.

<I'm not them. I choose my path, and I will not be that person again.>

It ran through her head like a mantra, over and over a handful of times in the space of a breath, and when she next exhaled, the murderous impulses were solidly under control. She'd keep an eye on him (she wasn't stupid), but if he was on their payroll she would wait until it was certain before doing anything drastic.

She looked down at the partially disassembled electrical panel.

"You're a mechanic?"

The question was rhetorical, and she didn't wait for him to respond as she jerked her chin to indicate the panel.

"Then fix it. And answer the karking question. What did you do to my ship?"

Saul Whesai​

 

[Aldus Kragg]

ALL ABOARD THE RONTO EXPRESS

Location: Command Bridge, MIN Halberd - Mahporeem Imperial Navy Picket Sector, The Outer Rim

Tags: Nadi Saul Whesai​

While the passengers aboard the Ronto Express settled into hyperspace, their flight path was tracing a line across the Outer Rim shipping charts. To the travelers and crew, it was a routine trip from Sullust to Corellia and then on to places unknown. To the Mahporeem Imperial Navy however, what may seem ordinary can quickly turn out to be anything but. Accordingly, within their sovereign territories, any commercial vessel traversing even the outer border lanes was subject to standard military inspection.

On the command bridge of the MIN Halberd, Lt. Commander Aldus Bragg stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his midnight-charcoal dress uniform clean against the low glow of the terminals. He adjusted his high collar, his gloved hand catching the light as he slowly spun the band of his family's signet ring around his finger.

"Commander," Ensign Sarn reported from the scanning terminal, her fingers tapping against the display. "Long-range tracking has logged a civilian YV-929 light freighter originating from Sullust. She's currently maintaining a steady hyperspace vector toward the Corellia reversion point. Real-space transition is estimated at our sector boundary."

Bragg’s gaze shifted from the starry black of the void outside the ship’s viewport down to one of the vidscreens of his command console and he narrowed his eyes slightly. As a veteran pilot, he knew the border lanes were highly active zones for unmanifested corporate cargo and unregulated passenger transport. More importantly, his noble House required absolute awareness of the industrial traffic flowing through their sphere of influence. It was primarily these factors, among his other tactical considerations, that led the seasoned officer to set his picket sector patrol perimeter where he had.

As he reviewed the flight data on the contact, a sharp flash of nondescript interest bloomed at the base of his skull. As his eyes tracked the digital vector on the screen, a sudden wave of motivation washed over him—a distinct, unyielding certainty that this “routine” vessel audit would yield an engagement far more significant than a basic log check. He couldn't specifically identify why he felt this, and it was far from the first time it had happened to him, but his countless successful customs raids over the course of his career led Aldus to simply trust his instincts. He stepped up to the command plinth, and let his voice carry the calm, smooth drawl of the elite aristocrat he was.

"Prepare the away team for transit," Aldus ordered smoothly, his tone cool and measured. "Signal Sgt. Thorn to ready her boarding detail in the armory. In the meantime, log the contact as "Sierra One" and calculate their specific heading. Plot us an intercept course that'll drop us out of hyperspace directly ahead of their next scheduled real-space reversion point. I've got a feeling about this one. Let's find out what the old girl is carrying."

 

[Saul Whesai]

The only real reason Saul would have guessed she was implanted with cybernetics was Nadi's switching from sign language to using her voice. There had for that to happen. Maybe some kind of voice mod...? And that the tall woman was almost as pale as he was didn't exactly point away from that direction. But she seemed pissy enough as it is, and so he followed her directions and got down on his knees, trying to find the right fuze to repair the panel with.

As Nadi pestered him about what he had done to the panel, he could feel the sweat dripping down his neck as the Cyborg tried to get the job done. Eventually, with Nadi breathing down his neck, he found the right fuse and plugged it in, the lights coming back to life. Grabbing the burnt fuse that had rocketed out of the panel, Saul held it up to prove he wasn't lying. "See, I didn't do anything. It just burnt out... If looking through my bags helps satisfy your curiosity, go for it." Thankfully, nothing suspicious on its face was inside them, just clothes, foodstuffs, a hammock, a camping kit, and his locked datapad. His weapons, submachines and throwing knives plus some sticks of extra ammo were all kept close to his person, just in case...

If she picked up the pad and gave it a look, any messages she would find on it would be those of any regular businessman with parts transactions. Any mention of the Farworlds had been deleted, and figuring out where those parts were going would take awhile. And unknown to both of them, they were rapidly running out of time before someone else wanted to barge in.

 

[Nadi]

She took the fuse from him and held it up to examine. It was burnt out. There was a strong possibility he was telling the truth. None of his body language or tone indicated deception, but he had also shown he was a cyborg and that made both unreliable. He could have implants to actively suppress the usual tells, or.... No. She cut that line of thinking off at the root. Nothing good could come of giving in to that impulse.

<For the sake of my own mind, I should air on the side of trust.>

She knew all too well how easily paranoia could destroy the mind of an otherwise rational being. It was a creeping sickness that preyed on fear and circumstance to drive you insane.

---------------------​

Her heart pounded out a steady rhythm that was entirely incongruent with her racing thoughts, scattered images of shadowed pursuers flashing through her mind. The duracrete road was rough on the soles of her bare feet as she hurtled down one alley after another, desperately trying to evade the pursuers she knew were hot on her tail. There was no way they couldn't be. She must have missed something, a backup trigger in the tracking chip or a second device somewhere else in her body.

She tried to take a turn too sharp and felt the wall crack under her shoulder as nearly a hundred kilos of very solid cyborg slammed into it, but she was on her feet only a split second later and racing down the next alley. <Why am I moving so slow?! I can't.... I won't make it!> The few people she'd passed seemed to be, to her eye, nearly frozen in place. Even the various boxes and tools that had fallen from a shelf when she collided with the wall were sluggishly floating toward the ground like they were sinking into jelly.

Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, there was a part of her that knew this was all wrong, that she was more reasonable than this, more rational; but that part was buried under a flood of paranoid irrationality too strong to dig its way out. <They're going to catch me again. They're going to turn the behavior chip back on and kill me. They're already here, it's already over, I....> She hit another wall, and this time collapsed in a heap, her mind consumed by terror and a certainty that while her body may live on, she was about to die.

---------------------​

But she hadn't been. There had been no pursuers that day in the coruscant undercity, only a mania brought on by legitimate fears reflected and amplified back at her by the technology infesting her brain.

She pulled herself out of the memory, one so vivid she might as well have been living through it all over again, and handed the burnt fuse back to Saul.

"Thank you. For sharing your supplies to repair my ship."

The sentiment was genuine, even if the delivery may have been a bit forced. Part of her still didn't trust him, or anyone, but it was a part she refused to give control to. That would get her killed far faster than trusting this man not to sabotage the ship he was also aboard.

"A search won't be necessary."

Then she turned and left, disappearing up the ladder to the ship's upper deck. They were going to be reverting back to realspace in a couple of hours, and she wanted to get what sleep she could before then.

Saul Whesai | Aldus Kragg​

 

[Aldus Kragg]

PAPERS PLEASE!

Location: Command Bridge, MIN Halberd - Mahporeem Imperial Navy Picket Sector, The Outer Rim
Tags: Nadi Saul Whesai​

The void at the sector boundary was cold and silent. Having calculated the freighter's trajectory with mathematical precision, the MIN Halberd had already slipped out of warp and taken up a stationary position directly at the expected transit point. The small warship sat like a pristine shadow against the black, its automated systems running under strict emissions control.

On the command bridge, Aldus stood at the central plinth, his hands still clasped behind his back as his eyes tracked the empty space ahead and his posture straight and calm. Behind him, the bridge crew was a hive of quiet discipline.

"Reversion signature detected Commander," Ensign Sarn reported, her voice low and focused over the terminal. "Hyperspace readouts match the Sullust vector contact exactly. Sierra One is entering real-space."

Through the main viewport, the blackness of the void fractured. A sudden flash of starlight signaled the localized collapse of a hyper-velocity field, and the blocky, rugged frame of the YV-929 light freighter materialized into the sector. The Ronto glided out of warp, its sublight drives burning against the sudden, unexpected silhouette of an Imperial vanguard warship blocking its forward path.

The moment the civilian ship transitioned into the sector, a sudden, inexplicable weight pressed against Aldus's chest. It felt as though the atmospheric pressure on the bridge had momentarily dropped, a phantom ripple in the air that caused a sudden, intense sharpness to settle into his vision. His gaze was drawn instantly to the freighter's cockpit, his instincts alerting him that there was some hidden danger, a deeper gravity to this routine interception than the ship logs suggested. Putting his intuition briefly aside, he stepped forward and opened a tight-beam communication channel.

When he spoke, his voice carried its usual calm, smooth drawl, cutting cleanly through the static on the freighter's bridge.

"Unidentified YV-929 light freighter, this is Lieutenant Commander Aldus Kragg of the Mahporeem Imperial Navy," he announced, his tone cold and measured. "You have crossed into our sovereign territory. Power down your sublight propulsion and prepare to be boarded for inspection. Any attempt to re-engage your hyperdrive without authorization will be treated as an act of evasion, and my gunners will destroy your thruster grids. Standby to receive the away team."

Closing the channel, he turned his head directly toward his Executive Officer. "Lieutenant Cross, you have the conn. Keep weapons arrays locked onto their primary drive manifolds. If their sublight signature shifts by even a fraction, disable their engines immediately. I will be leading the customs sweep personally."

"Understood, Sir. XO has the conn," Cross replied, stepping into the center command grid with practiced efficiency. "Weapons tracking remains locked and steady."

As Lt. Cross gave the order to approach the Ronto's docking ring, Aldus turned and exited the bridge, his measured steps echoing softly down the metal corridors as he descended toward the primary squad bay.

Entering the squad armory, he made his personal preparations for the operation. He checked his sidearm, ensuring it rested securely in its holster, and fitted his naval combat armor overtop of his uniform torso. Stepping out into the staging area where Sgt Thorn and her six-man stormtrooper squad were already preparing their weapons and inspection gear, Aldus met the sergeant's visor with a calm, level gaze.

"I will be joining the inspection team today, Sergeant." Aldus noted, as the magnetic couplers below began their automated sequence to track the target. "Ensure the boarding detail is ready to launch. We move the moment the clamp indicator flashes green."

 

[Nadi]

The reversion alarm woke her with five minutes to spare, and she had the hammock folded away and her ass in the pilots chair by the time the stars resolved back into familiar pinpricks of light. The comms crackled to life almost immediately, and a less composed person might have jumped at the surprise. Not her though.

<What the gorram kark? How did they even....>

Her mind immediately flashed to Saul in the passenger quarters below, and she had to spend longer than she would have liked fighting down that particular line of thinking.

Her second instinct was even more violent than the first. She recognized the class of ship they were up against, and the Ronto outgunned the VT-49 by a fair margin. Or it would once the turbolasers had time to spin up their capacitors.

She hadn't come in expecting a fight, and she'd be limited to missiles and blaster cannons for the first few precious seconds of any engagement that might ensue, giving the picket ship the immediate advantage. That, and it was likely they'd already relayed her ship's ID back to wherever they were based, which meant a kark-ton of heat everywhere the MIN had a presence if this ship disappeared.

The lieutenant cut off the comm as soon as he finished speaking, not giving her a chance to try and talk her way out of the boarding party.

<The kriffer knows his business.>

The best move was to cooperate, and as she mentally reviewed her cargo and passenger manifests, a small wave of embarrassment at her initial reactions swept through her mind. As far as she knew, there was nothing illegal or even suspicious aboard the Ronto, so unless her client or passengers had lied to her this should just be a standard search and release.

By the time the docking seal was established, she'd already broadcast a brief explanation to the passengers of what was happening and was waiting next to the airlock. She'd opted to leave her sidearm in the cockpit with her gun belt, but she did have her sound dampener with her and tuned to seventy percent. In her experience, a lot of these military types really loved shouting.

Once the boarding party hatch began sliding open, she hit the release on her own hatch and waited as they both slid away to admit the boarding party. Rather than try to shout through the dampening field, she opted to try galactic basic sign language first.

"What seems to be the problem, Lieutenant?"

She knew he'd ask for it, so she also had a copy of the ship's registration and manifest ready and waiting.

Saul Whesai | Aldus Kragg​

 

[Saul Whesai]

Unlike what Nadi thought, Saul didn't have an idea why an Imperial Remnant faction would be stopping them other than to be the usual Nerf Holes. Not like he was wanted or anything. And so as Nadi made the announcement that they were being boarded, Saul only groaned in irritation. Keeping his door shut but not locked, all he could hope was that the Imperials passed his cabin by and left him to cook dinner unmolested.