Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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And a Star To Steer Her By [TSE Dom of Littora, AH-13 Hex]

In Umbris Potestas Est
Objective 3

Into the void of space sprung the Void Irregular Fleet. The Ablution​ was flanked by her escorts, the Scylla, Gorgon, and Traya​ among them. It was here that Vanessa intended to test a new weapon of war against a derelict Invictus-class Star Destroyer left over from the former days of the Sith Empire. The weapon in question was a development of the planet-cracking superweapon known as the Shock Drum - a powerful vibration-based weapon that utilized ultrasonic waves to make a planet literally break itself into pieces. Vanessa's intentions were to test such a weapon against a derelict warship - the concept was simple. The vibromines would be launched by some bombers at the Invictus, which would then latch onto its hull, their randomized course dodging turbolasers as they did so. By latching onto and essentially becoming a part of the ship's hull, they would gain the protection of the enemy ship's shields and would effectively become impossible to remove. Once latched on, they would activate their ultrasonic generators, sending irregularly pulsed ultrasonic waves through the ship's hull, exacerbating flaws in its frame and forcibly growing cracks in its structure until the ship broke itself apart.

What a lovely way to destroy a target.

A Detryte-class Heavy Bomber had been refitted with vibromines in its ordnance bay. This bomber would be responsible for testing once it was launched. Vanessa's only hopes were that Void Irregular Fleet assets did not have to be wasted or otherwise redirected throughout the system. Her ship was alert for any warnings - if a distress call sounded itself, she would end up hearing of it. She would not - could not - have this test interrupted by anything.
 
Sometimes Devaronians' grins humored him, sometimes they just irritated him. This guy brought a mix of both to him. When the Devaronian lit up his cigarra, the old smoker couldn't help but reached for his cigarette pack inventively put on the slightly rolled sleeve of his left arm. He lit the darn thing up and motioned for the droids to start taking the crates.

Zef frowned both at his new associate's dry joke and the descriptive retort by their employer.

"We'll run you the stock, Doviculous." He nodded at the Devaronian. "I would've asked how are you so sure about the Sith but I ain't getting paid to ask questions." The scoundrel took a drag of his cigarette glancing at the goods being moved. "That said, appreciate doing business with you. Might be around this quadrant of the galaxy for a little while. If you've got more jobs, you knowhere to find me." Zef stated without bothering a look towards the horned devil as he walked away towards the exit of the docks.

When Zef and Jackson were further from the Devaronian's hearing range, he commented.

"He don't smell good, does he?" It was a semi-rhetorical question but definitely aimed at the Half-Zeltron. Zef knew perfectly well of the Zeltrons' natural ability. He'd fathered a crazy one so long ago.

[member="Jackson Singh"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]
 
[member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]

There was immediate suspicion at the ease the Devaronian acceded to the new terms.

It didn't have to mean that there would be trouble afoot, but it made Jack's gums itch and more often than not itching gums were a sure-way sign that something, somewhere was gonna go hella wrong. They had itched at Black Star Station, itched when [member="Tryp West"]'s message came through before he found her half-dead drifting in a cold space hulk in space, scratched when the Mandalorian Empire Leeroy Jenkins'ed their way onto Utapau while screaming: "Oyaaaaaaaaaaaa" and half a dozen other situations that came to mind.

His grip around the holster of the bloodstripe cannon grew more relaxed.

Didn't tighten.

But for a former One Sith trooper that only meant more attention. That way your hand didn't cramp up when you needed it most. "S'that da truth," Jack retorted with practiced ease and smile, like they were all in on a great joke. "Well, I like mah tongue right where tis, friend, so I'll keep mah boot appreciation to mah self dis time 'round."

The Devaronian shuffled away for a bit to order around his minions and Jack nodded after a moment of thought.

"Whatcha self, Halo, ya gettin' ya self into bed with dangerous bedfellas." That last bit murmured softly while their 'partner-in-crime' was busying himself with the cargo.

If only Jackson knew just how right he was. Doviculous' direct affiliation with the Dark Lord of the Sith made this entire shindig far more complicated than either one of them were aware, but Jackson was a half zeltron, not some six foot nine mentalist sith lord with blazing fire eyes. This wasn't something he could perceive sadly. He just had his wits, his senses and dem darn scratchy gums telling him to keep both his eyes on what was happening in the here and now.
 
The army of droids hurried down past them with the cargo easily carried by repulsorlifts. Zef remained outwardly calm but his mind was bustling with thought about the current job when Jackson replied to him. The two had their suspicion on Doviculous, Zef would usually explain the paranoia due to the uneasy aura Devaronians usually carried with their cunning grins.

"Not the first time, kid, and not the last time." The smuggler replied dryly. "Besides that's what I got ya for, ain't it?"

He felt his hands itch and his breath briefly shorten the more he contemplated their job. "You're Corellian. Funny." His accent implied so. Zef's own father spoke similarly, yet not as thickly as Jack.

Changing the topic briefly might be a better idea and neither was Zef a man who shared his concerns with others often.

"Served too. Not expected from a Zeltron." The former Mandalorian added. Some things you learned to notice when the primary way of surviving the underworld was learning people. Spice that up with experience of years upon years and you got yourself a perceptive machine.

[member="Jackson Singh"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]
 
[member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]

'Kid'

Even his da didn't call him that anymore, but for some reason he didn't mind it when employed by Halo.

Might be the grey hairs, the relaxed attitude, might be the vibe Jack was getting from the old smuggler, but the result was the same. It just got a snort and that was about it for now.

"Ya got me to pull ya arse outta da fire, not to encourage ya to rub ya arse in it, grandpa." Singh replied with a small smirk at the end of that. But he let the subject rest after that, cus Zef was right. No point in worrying or arguing about something when things were still in the clear. He'd be ready for any sticky situation, but until that point came best to keep things relaxed and smooth.

More often than not getting fidgety over something only inspired the same in others.

"Zeltron blood on mah ma's side, da the Corellian." Jack clarified calmly while studying the droids slowly work their magic on the crates. "Ain't all zeltroni karking everything they see while pollinating da pheromone crap out in da air."

Firm on that last note.

His ma had been full-blooded Zeltron, but his da only had praise for her. Disciplined, strong, focused, she hadn't been like dem usual zeltron. It was what Jack respected and what he feared. Disappointing the memory of his ma by acting like... Singh sniffed a bit, before coughing. "Ya know da smoke is bad for ya, yah? Hope ya lungs can take running if we need to."
 
Objective 4: Hunt.
Allies: [member="Six-O"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | Followers of Dust

It had been fascinating for Vaylin to watch the gradual shift in the crew's mood. The day after their little party, practically everyone involved had climbed aboard groggy and complaining about headaches and migraines. Excuses were made, muted mutterings that seemed common in the ears of the crew - the sea would be the greatest cure, especially once out on the open sea. She didn't believe it much, expecting a large majority of the men and women to spend their first days hanging over the ship's edge emptying their stomachs.

But then things changed, as the land became smaller and the seas ever expansive, the ship became a well oiled machine. It's crew moving through the motions and setting about catching daily hauls. Vaylin didn't do much to help, not like she would absolutely refuse to if asked. But it clear to see the crew were a self contained machine, and any outside assistance would effectively end up being the wrench that gets thrown between the gears.

So she remained behind, high above or in the shadows; observing. Everything was hard labour, the conditions were hardly fantastic and the crew were driven by profit. Thoughts and discussions of their share of the credits, what would come of their mighty bounty collected from the sea. But there was something unease that was growing, and Vaylin knew it wasn't nausea talking. The confined space, with absolutely zero ground to flee away on. She was expecting heads to butt against one another soon - it was almost inevitable.

One of the Dustbringers had come to her just after the fortieth day, concerns being spoken in hushed whispers. He had picked up on some...commotion amongst the Rodians. The Followers had remained mostly in the shadows, unseen and forgotten about allowing them a veil to hide behind and listen. Something was brewing, centered around an apparent dislike for Xiangu. It amused Vaylin endlessly, that they'd not like the fact she was fine with something as monotonous and way of life as fishing, and yet there was nothing on the atrocities the Sith Lord no doubt took part in over the years.

Eventually the day-to-day grew less tense, and much more friendly. The crew had gotten into the swing of things which allowed for a more casual pace. But it was something that could be exploited, that the sight of Rodians grouping together wasn't raising red flags to the rest of the crew. Vaylin was tense; and probably a bit paranoid as she kept the Dustbringers on watch for anything. However things were moving on the seventy-eighth day. The Zabrak and Tug had separated in order to form a pincer maneuver against their target. It's crew moving around just as hectically as the waves were crashing against the hull.

All the while, it was nothing more than a distraction for what was happening at the heart of the operation.
 
Objective III

Zahori awaited patiently as the finishing touches were applied to the space station. An engineer came up to her. She gave her a salute before speaking, as is mandatory. She held a datapad in her hand and held it up for Zahori to see. "Admiral, here are the reports for the space station. All systems are nominal and progress is nearing completion."

"Good. Report to me when construction is complete."

"Yes, Admiral."

Zahori stepped into her private quarters and sat at her desk. She opened up the laptop before her and pulled up the camera feeds from the operation at hand further away in the system than she was. The caravan carrying the metals she required was preparing to leave the system with it's haul, but were going to be a bit delayed. Several Imperial frigates exited hyperspace near the caravan and began opening fire on it's guard ships. The fire from the frigates was heavy as they beared down on the small corvettes protecting the cargo. It would be a quick battle.
 
Location: Farshore
Objective: Enjoy the Festival and do some business I guess?

She smiled after the kiss and the offer. As far as she was concerned it was no more than she deserved, and it pleased her that he knew that as well.

Cass didn't try to step back out of his embrace- why in this moment? There was no where to be, no one to attend to, nothing that had to be addressed that he was keeping her from. No tug of war game since she had stepped in herself.

"Core," she answered decisively and without hesitation. She didn't prefer the rimward worlds as a general thing. There was a reason the core was the center of the galactic commerce and culture. Sure there were exceptions, but Cass held the deep opinion that there was nothing out on the rim that couldn't be done better in the core, so why bother?

"Sir? Madam?"

Cass and Tash both looked over, prepared to be irritated-

But it was a young man with a tray, offering it- on it were dozens of viewing glasses and he smiled, a bit shyly.

"For the Aurora? Wouldn't want to miss it."

[member="Itash Mecetti"]
 
In Umbris Potestas Est
Objective 3

The Ablution oversaw the launch of the Detryte as it flew towards the Invictus. The ship had been mostly depowered, its weapons decreased in power to training mode so it would destroy the mines before they impacted, but the bomber itself would not be damaged on the attack run. It would not be maneuvering - after all, it was a large enough target that the vibromines would hit it even if the old Star Destroyer had been trying to dodge them.

The Detryte began its simulated run - only for a warning to come across the systems. “Ugh... what now?” said an otherwise irked Vanessa. The Detryte was still moving forward on its course, doing its best to evade the laser fire before the vibromines were launched at the target. Upon exiting the barrel they began a series of randomized strafing motions while still traveling on an otherwise straight course. Towards their target. One was caught by the lasers before they made impact on the enemy ship, their highly magnetized casing gluing them to the vessel’s hull. The Invictus’ turrets ceased firing as the Detryte experimentally fired several heavy laser cannon shots at the vibromines glued onto the hull of the ship - its shields protected them just as they protected the Invictus itself.

“Miss, we’re receiving a report of a convoy carrying metals under attack at the fringes of the system. They are under heavy fire from... Imperial vessels.”

Vanessa just about spat out her cup of caf. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She thought for a moment - was it the wisest decision to abandon the test, leaving whatever rogue Imperial forces were out there with an opportunity to potentially strike at and destroy an experimental warship as it was unguarded? Or should she sent parts of the reserve fleet to deal with this insurrection?

“We will be staying here. Task Force Maw will assemble with the Endeavour and the Dorn at the location of the attack. Whoever these Imperials are, we are attempting to court the companies of this planet and gain their influence in the Empire. Attacking their convoy, with Imperial ships no less, is a grave error. Scylla, Gorgon, prepare for a jump to lightspeed.” She turned to the bridge, overlooking the Invictus.

“Activate the vibromines.”
 

Eye of Solomon

Guest
E
"Don't you be frettin', I've always got a job here or there that needs doin'."

He feigned a half-bow, his hands and arms spread wide, before he disappeared behind a tall stack of metal cargo crates. There were still several shipments that had yet to be packed up and properly sealed, the intended contents still sitting on a large oil-smudged table in the center of the room adjacent to the open dock; weapons, spices, and various inert incendiary devices. Ever since Doviculous had found himself in cahoots with the Sith Lord who would become the Emperor, he'd been tasked with keep an open ear on any news that passed through the criminal underworld. With the rise of the Sith Empire, his priorities had shifted to focus on a new illicit activity.

Weapons trafficking.

Specifically transporting arms to pro-Imperial militant groups in the surrounding systems in the Tingel Arm, preparing extremist organizations to eventually topple their governments as the Empire closed in. Occasionally he would supply munitions to groups that weren't even pro-Imperial, if just to cause chaos and destabilization in systems that might put up a struggle against any Imperial incursion.

It was better to do battle with a people divided than with a people united.

Doviculous personally made sure the last crate was sealed, and had his minions haul it out to where the smugglers were waiting. Now came the task of assembling their pay. Luckily, the Devaronian had brought a surplus of credits along with him just in case something like this happened. Most of the money was contained in large reinforced briefcases, all of which were quite heavy and could pack quite a wallop if swung at some poor sod's noggin'.

The gangster made sure the suitcases were brought out himself, he didn't trust his moneygrubbin' vermin of a staff to perform that task.

Plus he liked how the credits clinked together with each step.

"Here ya go, lads. The original payment plus a third extra."

[member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Jackson Singh"]
 
Objective 4: Collect and Research Specimens

"Such ferocity," she muttered as she observed her collection team's attempts to subdue the now three Protea that had appeared. Apparently, another had been lurking just under the water and the mass collection of potential food had drawn it out of its concealment. The engagement had also brought out more specimens of these Floodflower creatures, and if her actual collection team weren't trained, it likely would have been a slaughter.

As it was, one Protea had been contained and was being transported back for analysis, along with a few smaller Floodflowers. She was quite looking forward to that next part... oh even better. Another Protea had emerged from the surf, near her position. Before it could strike, her command of the Force wrapped around it and brought its will under her control. Another use of the Force, and it was promptly paralyzed and would stay that way for several minutes.

"My Lady, we are detecting more lifeforms in the nearby waters," her assistant stated. "Sun Jellies, judging by the readings."

"Obtain them as well," she ordered, watching one of Adepts get picked up and thrown into the ocean by a tentacle. He did not re-emerge, but his sacrifice had allowed an opening to subdue one of the engaged Protea.
 
Location: Farshore
Objective: Enjoy himself.
[member="Cassandra Paige"]

"Thank you." Tash replied before leaning over to snatch two, one for her, one for him and then returned his attention to Cass.

It was the fastest way to get back to nicer things as far as Mecetti was concerned.

Even if some part of him had wanted to react with snark at the intrusion. Sometimes such pursuits were more of a drag than they were worth as far as Tash was concerned anyway. "Mm, Core it is." Softly putting one pair carefully on the tip of her nose and pushing it up- surprisingly elegant and without the usual annoyance of trying to put glasses on someone else.

But that was Tash for ya.

He always made the most ridiculous of things look easy as breathing. "I know you have a meeting soon." Stealing another kiss, softly, as they waited for the aurora to pass into the sky in a few moments.

"Important?"

Maybe Tash was gauging just how easy it would be to coax her out of it, maybe it was serious curiosity. Who could really know with him?
 
An eyebrow raised itself as the doctor made her way from out of the ship in her lithe suit, the quality and slimness of the material had Jorryn question if it was indeed an enviro suit even though the other apparatus' made that fact clear. The Echani also couldn't help but wonder if such a suit was necessary when the atmosphere was perfect, if a bit damp.

The acolyte nodded for a brief second when the doctor said her name before introducing her own.

It took a moment for the name of the woman to sink into Jorryn's mind, the voice modulation along with the [member="Farah"]'s appearance prevented the immediate connection. But when she did manage to realize the name given to her, the surprise was quite apparent in her look and newfound posture.

"Zambrano...?"

The name came out less as a question, more as a wonderance of if she had really heard the doctor's words correctly through the voice. Jorryn knew that the Dark Lord of the Sith had many wives and daughters, some of which the Echani had met, but she would have never assumed one would appear so fully alien.

The silver haired acolyte continued to examine the Zeltron as she berated some ingrate technician, which admittedly amused Jorryn enough to crack a smile in the middle of her inspection.

She pushed aside her curiosity as the doctor finished humiliating the poor boy, deciding that how she was related to the Emperor didn't matter as much as the fact that she was. Instead the curiosity turned back towards the enviro-suit that the woman was wearing.

"I can't say I've seen an enviro-suit quite like that." Her voice lifted itself with curiosity as she spoke, looking up and down at the presumptively custom made outfit. "Looks better than the ones I've had to wear."

"Do you really think we'll need suits like that for this operation though?" Her eyes flickered back up to meet the Zeltron's. The planet's atmosphere was safe for humans, but she admittedly hadn't done her homework on the flora and fauna that covered Littora.
 
Objective 1 - Enjoy the festival
F A R S H O R E

Darth Ophidia didn't like the cold cold. Her home was cold, but it was not like this wet cold. No that was dry, nice that way. Still, she had an appreciation for the ocean; the thunderous sounds it made as it crashed upon itself over and over and over. She enjoyed the deep and dark quiet that it presented. Yet, it was never still, never stagnant. There was energy, motion, flow. In many ways, the Ocean so marvellously illustrated the Force.

So, during parts of the Festival, she found herself staring out over the railing at the walking seas, contemplating the movement of the water, the nature of the lunar activity, and its potential implications in the Force. Her staring was near meditative, her breathing slowed, thoughts stopped, eyes simply stared unblinkingly into the horizon.

"My Lord?"

She snapped out of her transfixed state and half turned her head to acknowledge the presence of the Mirialan lieutenant.

"Barlan." "I brought your drink, sir." "Did you poison it?" There was some humour in there. "Not more than usual, sir."

The Mirialan stepped up to Ophidia and handed her the mug of warm, mulled wine. The Sith Lord smiled slightly, and - more out of habit than anything - focused on the contents. Her mind delved through it on a molecular level, picking through the consistency. There was nothing in there beyond what one could expect for reasonably priced festival drink.

"Did you bring the glasses?" "For the viewing."

The Mirialan nodded. Water crashed against the side of the platform, the wind carried the spray all the way up to them. They drank from their mildly alcoholic beverages and stared out into the horizon.
 
Zef shuddered internally at the mention of grandpa. Especially from the mouth of another half-Zeltron half-Corellian. Outwardly he gave the gunslinger a dull glare.

"You're getting paid, ain't ya?" The scoundrel gave the Devaronian thug a glance before taking two of the suitcases and putting them on one of the repulsorlifts the droids carried. The third one he shoved at Jack as if to prove his point then shifted his head once more to the devil. "Good to hear, Doviculous."

With that done the smuggler turned his back to the alien and walked away besides the young Half-Zeltron.

"Don't worry 'bout my lungs, boy." The smuggler said coarsely. "I won't need to run if I've hired an ex-grunt, would I?"

The column of droids soon disappeared round the corner being quite quicker than the two spacers.

"So - where did you serve, kid? Some place where they don't pay good, I bet."

Why else would he be 'round here as a gun for hire?

[member="Jackson Singh"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]
 
[member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]

Little did Zef know that Jack was actually passingly acquainted with his daughter.

[member="Joza Perl"] and him had briefly... met, while he had been on the job.

Tionese slaver.

It had turned out to be a whole mess, when first Jack had assumed Joza was just another Zeltron huss selling herself for some privileges from a man dealing in flesh and pain. It turned out that the truth was a little bit more grey than that. Usually was, so Jackson hadn't been overly surprised. Just maybe a little bit... embarrassed for his assumption in that regard.

Luckily Jack didn't know the connection between Perl and Halo either or this would have been awkward.

"Touchy, touchy." Singh murmured with a deep shet-eating grin now as he took the case and gave one nod to Doviculous. It paid to be polite to people with a tongue that could stretch out from one side of the room to the other. "Sure we can score some grub somewhere 'round here, if ya dat hungry."

Jack joked, but Zef would notice that he was still paying very close attention to everything.

His senses were stretched out too to get a good sense of what's happening.

"'ere and there, Halo, been 'round the place for a while now." That suggested mercenary, but it was just vague and ambiguous enough that it could mean anything without actually lying. Jack didn't like to outright lie. It wasn't a good habit to get into- start lying and you never really manage to stop anymore. It would become tempted to keep on trucking with it.

"Ya a perceptive one, served ya'self or wha?"
 
Location: Farshore
Objective: Enjoy the Festival and do some business I guess?
[member="Itash Mecetti"]

She wrinkled her nose at him but stayed still as he slid the glasses on. Eyes crossing for a moment, she wiggled her nose to settle it and made a face.

"I don't know how Ana could stand these. It's not like she didn't have options," she huffed softly, more to herself than to him.

"Mhm, very," she murmured back to him, snuggling up against his chest again- the glasses got in the way and she pulled back enough, making a slight face.

"In a little less than an hour, to secure GenPal sampling rights. Since we are not directly affiliated with the Empire, I wanted to make certain all of the.... T's were crossed and I's dotted, you understand."

Publicly, in ways that could be traced and followed back, Cassandra did everything related to GenPals by the letter.

"More than enough time to watch the aurora with you though," she smiled up at him.

Clear line. It was not a meeting she would miss.
 
[member="Jorryn Fordyce"]

Farah wasn’t necessarily cruel because she took pleasure in it. Okay, sometimes she absolutely did. But her stern, sharp demeanor was born out of a desire to have everything around her run as smoothly and as efficiently as possible. Scientists were that way—they liked everything just so.

Accordingly, they tended to overthink and over prepare. Jorryn’s acknowledgement of her enviro-suit was registered as a complement in her mind. A surefire way to get a scientist talking? Ask about their work. Farah loved talking about her research.

“Oh, this?” She ran a gloved hand down the side of the treated fabric. “This is made from a fabric I designed to be a more workable envirosuit. Breathable while still offering resistance against liquids and gasses of nearly any strength. It’s lighter and more attractive than those rubbery models you’re probably used to wearing.”

About 90% less squeak, too.

Farah cocked her head to the side. She looked proud, the beginnings of a smile just bending her lips. “The atmosphere is safe but we don’t know the extent of what’s out there.” She waved a hand in the direction of the fog which seemed to limit their visibility enough to be annoying. As she spoke she began to walk into said foreboding mist.

“Better safe than having your face melted by acid.”
 
Location: Farshore
Objective: Enjoy himself.
[member="Cassandra Paige"]

"Ana? Oh." Tash nodded softly. "Your pipsqueak sister."

A shrug followed after that. He only vaguely recalled Anastasia from the galas the Mecettis had hosted and the Paiges attended. In truth he hadn't remembered any of them, until Cass and him started reminiscing of those old days with a few drinks in hand. Then things started to come back to him. Itash nodded at the very, leaning in and kissing her softly rather than make a point of it. For once. "We will make the most out of it then, love." Once the kiss broke and Tash looked up to the skies.

There was already a faint shimmering there.

Nothing impressive yet, but that would come soon enough he was sure.

While mostly being in the here and now Tash started wondering what he would be up to once she went to her meeting. Perhaps oversee one of the operations Didact was conducting here- he could feel the heat just underneath his skin as they killed somewhere in the system.

There were several operations on the way.

Tash didn't really know which one he was feeling right now.
 
OBJECTIVE 4: Hunt, capture, sell, survive.
ALLIES: [member="Six-O"] | [member="Vaylin"] | Xoorurm | "Vinto" Zyyc Vonux | Buutog "Grouch" Kipavii
POST: 2

The air was a chorus of confusion, the sonorous, panicked croaks of disoriented frogs forcing those in the tug boats to communicate with gestures and instinct if they weren’t close enough to shout in one another’s ears. The sea, already less than quiet, chopped viciously against the hulls of the smaller craft as frog after frog was brought down, their bulk displacing the water haphazardly. Sea-legs earned upon the Witch of the Waves were sorely tested. Here and there among animal corpses was a hand, a leg, a head popping out from crimson flotsam - poachers among the poached, to be left behind once the prize was pulled from the water.

Matsu could see the Zabrak woman closing in on the other side of the reef-creature - large, a bull, angrier than its brethren at being pulled from its amiable lethargy. Perhaps it was simply the exhausting responsibility of the venture or a quietly pervasive paranoia surrounding the ship, but they hadn’t been able to talk much. A shame, one to be rectified.

The Lord’s hand was raised, holding Buutog until...close enough to… The bull reef frog reared, propelled by agitation in to some leap of the front half of its body that revealed it was far more enormous than they’d expected. Her hand chopped down for release of the harpoon and the shiny spike glittered through the air. It lodged underneath the frontmost of its left flippers, burying deep and most likely close enough to its heart to mortally wound but still it roared. It would take more than one - and hopefully, Vaylin’s team would effectively land their own shot and avoid a much bigger problem. If they could weaken it, Six and Xoor could effectively hook, flip, and drown it.

The bull thrashed, sea-foam stained red churning beneath its seaweed-limned bulk.

On the ship, a different kind of destruction was at hand. Among the Rodians - a species well-known for their tendency to participate in the more criminal elements of the galaxy - were several slicers who’d hacked the most well-protected terminals around. Littora, this job, had started out as a way to lay low while the heat from their last job cooled off and they could get back to what they did best. But it seemed those skills would be needed earlier than assumed.

Quickly and quietly, taking advantage of the precise moment all their biggest threats were off the ship, Reebi Solis and his slicer pals hijacked and destroyed the navigations systems on the ship. One of them had made a mirror - after all, they didn’t want to be stuck out here with these monsters. They’d find some way off and have the data to escape. Or better yet, find a way to take the Witch of the Waves for themselves and steer her on a bloodless ride to port. But between that sabotage and the communications systems mysteriously frying…

The mutiny was in full swing.
 

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