Bring Me the Hydrospanner!

[Corvetta Salvo]

Corvetta was trying to learn to read. She really was! Just, this super convenient voice reader option made it hard to commit to.

Curled up with her legs bent on the dash and head pressed into her chest due to her improperly postured position against the seat back, Lost Cause's pilot was busy pretending she was literate again, scrolling through articles online about her cousin--mostly boring. Which was probably why she resorted to the audio without even trying to read the first sentences.

Another hyperspace run from Ord Mantell to Abregado-Rae meant they would be forced to fly a bit of a lengthy curve around the galactic core, avoiding whatever hell one encountered in that compacted cloud of matter with scientific names that Corvetta did not understand. All she knew was what any spacer knew: Flying in there was bad news. And so they would be skirting about the Core Worlds with a brief pass through Sith territory, and then on into a rather uncivilized zone.

"Oh, frak," she spouted abruptly. Her blue eyes stared down the flask of gin in her hand for a moment as a prosecuting lawyer might glare at the defendant. "Runs too fast."

Carelessly, Corvetta dropped her datapad on the adjacent seat and awkwardly unfolded her body, scooting out from her chair and tumbling to the floor. After a moment of recovery, she scampered towards the refresher room.

[member="Robb Killian"], [member="Davik Tren"], [member="Kohai Drenn"]

 

[Davik Tren]

Davik lounged in his bunk and, while bent into quite an odd position in an effort to support his datapad, managed to remain comfortable whilst he examined the most recent articles of the holonet.

Wars... Battles... Slaughter... Nothing nice in the galaxy these days...

He heard a thump from the cockpit which caused him to lean his head out, but he soon deduced that it was just Corvy, scampering about. The cool air of the ship nipped at his arms and he tugged them a bit closer and continued his idle scrolling in a rather monotonous way. Long trips never suited him, he prefered to be walking about on planets most of the time, but being aboard the Lost Cause had it's perks... You usually weren't being shot at being one of them.


[member="Robb Killian"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"]

 

[Robb Killian]

Rhythmic music filled the cargo hold; soulful lyrics spun a mournful narrative as heavy bass-rich tones reverberated around the room's generous acoustics, spurring Robb on to further exertion. Still, fatigue was beginning to wear on the smuggler as he fought the burn to keep his arms up and his feet in constant motion. One more round. Just one more. Robb's gloved fists pounded against the sand-filled punching-bad once again. One more.

Robb had been making "just one more" pass for ten minutes now, truth be told, and his muscles we screaming for rest. Just. One. More. He ducked right, jabbing twice with his left hand before throwing the strongest hay-maker he could muster with his right. Robb's fist connected with the bag with another audible thud, sending a shock-wave through his taxed muscles. He stood there for a moment, pausing to wipe the accumulated sweat from his brow with the back of his hand while he panted. Time for a break.

The smuggler turned away from the punching-bag he'd secured to the cargo hold's ceiling and made his way to the crate where he'd left his canteen, inhaling through his mouth and exhaling through his nose. Robb eased himself onto the crate and removed his gloves, letting them fall to the floor at his feet before loosening the wrappings around his hands. He took the canteen and raised it to his lips, reveling in the coolness of the water as it relieved his parched throat.

Robb took one last gulp of water before replacing it on the crate next to him. The smuggler leaned forward on his seat and retrieved his shirt where he had discarded it and used it to wipe the sweat away from his face and neck. It had been too long since Robb had exercised properly, and long flights like this one provided the perfect opportunity.

[member="Davik Tren"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Kohai Drenn"]

 

[Kohai Drenn]

Kohai sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, shifting uncomfortably as she laid back on the lumpy old couch. She'd never consider replacing it, though, even if it were her call. It really tied the lounge together. Emerald eyes absently scanned ceiling, sorting and re-sorting the various imperfections dotting the ceiling by size, age, any variation she could think of.

The young engineer really needed something to do, or she feared she might lose her mind. Rolling lazily off of the couch, the blonde strolled over to the mess. She figured she could kill some time making a killer pot of coffee, if only to take up a few minutes more.

Humming quietly to herself, Kohai looked over her shoulder as she heard the rapid pattering of footsteps. It seemed that Corvetta was making a determined bee-line for the fresher. Were she not currently on a mission, she laugh at the comical display. This was, however, not the time to get distracted. She was determined to see her original distraction finished first.

That was the responsible way to play this.

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Robb Killian"]

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

"Frakkin' sithspit!" she cursed, nearly sliding into the refresher as she passed Kohai, neither of them seeming to take too much of a second glance at each other. They were both dead-set on a mission of sorts, and Corvetta had an urgent date with the loo. Fortunately, she always wore cargo pants, so unzipping and all that would not be tedious. She had to remind herself at the last second to close the door, though. That would have been very weird.

Corvetta had a lot of awkward moments, but she just took them in stride. These things were just part of living. She had spent her entire life in closed quarters like these, and there was not much to surprise anyone with when confined inside these rooms and corridors. The YT-2400 was a decent-sized ship, but it did feel small after a while. The pilot had learned to get along with all sorts of folks by necessity, but there was a point when she could not have dealt with the same people day after day if they were not such good friends--people she could talk about bathroom stuff with if the topic came up. Not that she was going to go out of her way to volunteer details about this trip. Just clearing the alcohol. Sure, everyone wanted to read about this.

Her exit went a lot smoother than her entry. Everything was done in proper order--with the exception of zipping back her fly. She had found her way to the main cargo hold by the time she realized she was not really too thrilled with the idea of potentially showing off her colors underneath. Corvetta was no prude, but she was innocent all the same. "Hey... Killer," she yawned, glancing at the slowly swinging punching bag.

"'Member that one time when I slugged that banshee in the spine and ended hard like a deadspinned 75?" It was a wonder she could recall that. She had been almost completely wasted at the time. "How ya punch so hard and not hurt, bud?"

[member="Davik Tren"], [member="Robb Killian"], [member="Kohai Drenn"]

 

[Davik Tren]

Davik soon grew bored of the multiple stories of despair elsewhere in the galaxy and got up from his bunk. As he stood, his eyes went black for a few moments as they do on occasion after one gets up from lazing about for a long while, but his vision soon returns with a little shake of the head. The dull hum of the ship's engines was a sound that the spacer had become accustomed to and now it only served as atmosphere to an otherwise boring hulk.

He soon made his own way into the mess area and eyed K as she went about preparing some concoction that would have her bouncing around the engine room in no time, which wasn't uncommon anyways...

"Hey K, you think we're close yet?"

Of course they weren't close, it was just something he needed to say to make the entire trip have even the slightest hint of interest. Davik plopped himself down in one of the hard seats at the mess table and laid his head in his hands to wipe away the exhaustion that boredom often carried along as baggage.

[member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Robb Killian"]

 

[Robb Killian]

Robb reached to his right and briefly held a finger on the audio device's volume control, lowering the music's decibel level by half to better hear Corvetta. He hadn't heard or seen her come in, but living in such close proximity to others left little room for surprises anymore. Robb half turned towards his crewmate and offered a welcoming gesture, something located in the questionable realm between a wave and a salute, before lowering himself from the crate and into a push-up position, he could hardly afford to let his arms rest too much, after all. Robb began his set as he replied: "It's all. . ." One. ". . . about form. . ." Two. ". . . and technique." Three.

The smuggler continued his set for a moment before continuing: "So. . ." Eleven. ". . . Don't suppose. . ." Twelve. ". . . We nearing Abregado-Rae soon?" Robb enjoyed long flights, truth be told. There was something serene about the simplicity of life aboard a ship, surrounding be the omnipresent black nothing.

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Kohai Drenn"]

 

[Kohai Drenn]

Practiced hands going about their tasks, Kohai's gaze remained fixed upon the machine before her. "I wouldn't say close... few minutes?"

Wait... that's not right...

Shaking herself from her reverie, the engineer turned to address her crewmate. "I mean... that is to say... the coffeemaker." Taking a moment to pull her scattered thoughts together, she decided she'd best try that one again.

Shooting a grin Davik's way, Kohai locked her antsy fingers together to keep them still for the moment. "On an unrelated note, not sure how long we're out. Wasn't really keeping track..."

Nailed it!

[member="Robb Killian"] [member="Davik Tren"] [member="Corvetta Salvo"]

 

[Corvetta Salvo]

"Nah," she replied, trying to mimic whatever she had seen Robb do in the past as far as 'form' and 'technique' went. Her fist knocked against the punching bag and she subsequently withdrew her hand, shaking her fingers around to relieve the brief pain. No one saw that, right? "Abregado's still a few ticks off. It's not so straight and zippy when you're near the Core."

The pilot turned back to look at that bag with narrowed eyes, annoyed that she could not at least make it move a bit. She could do well with grappling and that sort of thing, but an actual brawl would probably leave a Corvetta squished on the floor and grease pouring out of her veins instead of blood just because of the lifelong spacer she was. "Killer, do you shove bricks in this thing?" That would explain it, if it were the case. She could not be that terrible at this punching thing, could she?

No matter. Apparently this flygirl was not the practiced spacer she thought she was if she let the floor get out from under her--like it did the next moment, as she was thrust to the durasteel deck by an abrupt shunt of the entire vessel. That sort of jolt was not natural. Something in the propulsion systems popped, and she heard it loud and clear, whether anyone else did or not. "Koko, what did you do this time?" the pilot jokingly called back to her blonde buddy, knowing full well that if anyone had caused anything go wrong in the booster or hyperdrive systems that it was her fault. Corvetta was a fantastic mechanic herself, but sometimes she took shortcuts and (not to mention she was not exactly sober on all occasions) Kohai was brilliant in comparison. The first time they had met, Corvetta had seen her build some guy a lightsaber without instructions.

"Killer, you okay?" Mister Security had just been lifting weights of who-knows-how-much-mass just a few seconds ago. That had a possibility of not ending well after a shock like that.

[member="Davik Tren"], [member="Robb Killian"], [member="Kohai Drenn"]

 

[Robb Killian]

Glancing up from his prone position, Robb could not help but grin as Corvetta took a swing at the punching-bag. I'll have to teach her properly, one of these days. Hell, Kohai could probably stand to learn too.

"No bricks, Corvy," He replied with a chuckle. "Just--" The ship bucked, hard, and the deck came to meet him faster and with more force than Robb had anticipated as he began the downward half of his current rep. The spacer grunted as his forehead hit the deck with a thud. Although his push-up position enabled him to brace himself against the ship's sudden jolt to some degree, the combination of sore muscles and great force of the jolt easily bested him.

Slowly pushing himself up from the deck, Robb rolled over onto his back before carefully easing himself up into a seated position. Robb waved off Corvetta's concern, his pride was hurt more than anything else. "Yeah," he wiped the sweat away from his face again before continuing, "Yeah, I'm good." Still, Robb decided it would be best to run a quick self diagnostic to make sure he wasn't concussed. Bracing himself on the crate, Robb brought himself to his feet and took a few steps towards the hatchway. Balance is good, no dizziness, vision's good. . .kark it, I'm fine. Satisfied, Robb gathered his belongings and gave Corvetta quick once-over. She looks okay, better'n me anyway.

"I'm going to go change, no one wants a sweaty, shirtless 'Killer' cavorting around the ship." That, and I karking reek. Robb was no engineer, but he had a solid knowledge of basic mechanics and had lent the girls a hand in the past. Robb turned and made for the hold's exit, shaking his head as he went. "Let me know if you need anyone to hold the hydrospanner," he called over his shoulder as rounded the exit and made his way toward's his bunk.

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Davik Tren"]

 

[Davik Tren]

Damn... He was hoping they were close. He couldn't stand being cooped up in the ship anymore, even though he had done trips like this before. The thing about being cooped up in the ship is that it's all so constant... Nothing ever changes, and there are certainly no surpri-... What was that loud grinding sound?...

Davik tightly grasped the edge of the stool in attempt to save himself from the jolt, but it was to no avail, and he soon found himself on the floor... Grumbling. The shock had come like an unwelcome houseguest and it took him a while to get back up to his feet and look around and finally at Kohai.

"Beautiful! Where did you find out how to do that one?.."

He gave a smile, if only to assure the presence of humor at the occurrence that probably was not her fault. He grabbed his datapad from the cold durasteel floor and began to move back towards the bunk room in frustration.

[member="Corvetta Salvo"] [member="Kohai Drenn"] [member="Robb Killian"]