Cargo run. (Bruce Stormani & Jen)

[Bruce Stormanl]

The hulking figure of a man was already climbing from the pilot's seat before the repulsors shut off. As he squeezed by the droid docking station that replaced the copilot's chair and console he patted the dome of his astromec and grunted in a deep gravely voice. "Once we're shut down get outside and make sure they top us off this time we come in running on fumes." To which the entirely gray astromec offered what could only be described as an annoyed beep.

Bruce paid the droid's annoyance no mind. Instead of getting into a debate over the finer points of proper accelration and manuvering he stuck his arms through the need hide shoulder holster that held his blaster pistol then pulled on his jacket and began to walk aft. It had been entirely too long since the older human man had his feet on solid ground. But he knew the solstice he took in being free of the confines of the ship he called home would be brief. A day at the most, before he would again be space born and on toward their next destination.

Heavy booted feet clomped against t he hard deckplating while he moved into the empty hold. Theyd been in open space for so long Bruce nearly exhausted his consumable goods and had been eating ration packs for the past week straight. Though despite how he longed for a hot meal and a stuff drink he had work to do.

It was set into his routine. Fuel the ship and replenish the suplies hed gone through as soon as they touch down. Even though he did his best to stay incognito there was always the chance that someone from his past would recognize him and force an early departure. So the moment the cargo ramp was lowered he began bringing up the waiting supplies he ordered while descending through the atmosphere.

All told the ordeal of restocking and refuling the ancient freighter took less than an hour. But it was an hour he wished he could have spent someplace else. Knowing it would be hours before his cargo was ready to be loaded he gave instructions to the astromech that was nearly as old as the old YT-2000 that he captained then headed out of the open air berth toward a what somewhat resembled civilization in hopes of filling his belly and finding some temporary companionship.

 

[Jen]

Nar’Kaaga was a smaller world in what was formerly known as the Hutt Sector. These days the Techno Union controlled that part of the galaxy, while the fierce Hutt Cartel had been pushed all day way back to the Kessel Sector. However, life still thrived as it always did on the surface of Nar’Kaaga.

Today was no special day; it was one like any other before it: Cold. The rotten and mosquito infected water of the worlds large swamps gave off an odor unlike any other. Even the stinking slums of the megalopolis that was Nar’Shaddaa could not compete with the smell. By the spaceports’ nearest city, traffic was as tight as it had been for years. Perhaps everything moved so fast on this world because of the horrid smell and if true it would probably only have helped the citizens. The world survived on commerce after all and import and export rates were high as always. They needed to be in order to attract smugglers, honest freighters and many other types that were willing to take advantage of the world as they sold goods for high prices and bought others cheap.

By the road that lead to the spaceport’s nearest city, a small shape sat on top of a small durasteel crate. The woman was of lean stature and was seated with a scratched up heavy-duty datapad in her hands, seeming focused as she swiped a finger across the screen. From time to time the woman, who could not be more than the age of 20, would look up from the datapad, her face a tad paler than most, her eyes of amber color. A somewhat tangled mess of a jaw-length black haircut could be seen hanging from out under a dark beanie on top of her head. She would survey her surroundings as if looking for something, often deciding that someone –something- had not arrived yet and she continued whatever she was doing on the datapad.

Her name was Jennifer. By the time Bruce had arrived, she had been sitting there for a good hour and as he decided to make his way towards town, Jennifer would be making yet another quick scan of the spaceport. Luckily she sat by the road to town, so it was hard for her to miss anyone of note. She glanced between the man and his ship and soon after stood up from the crate she had been sitting on, a wide grin seen on her face.

“Yo!” She would yell across the few meters between them, the rusted dd-s1 guard droid that had been standing behind her looking up as if suddenly remembered it had a job to do. “You own the freighter over there?” She pointed, her voice strange to the ear of the unprepared. It would carry the typical sound of a youth that had been living in the tougher neighborhoods their entire life and yet some sort of melodious exotic accent was heard in Jennifer's voice as well. As she made her way towards the man knowing that the droid was watching over the crate and her duffel bag, it would became apparent that even though she did look a lot like a human, she was perhaps only partially that. Yes, in fact one with good knowledge of the races of the galaxy would know that she was part Ryn. It explained the color of her eyes, her sharp nose with curves in it and the large tail of hers. Normally a Ryn would have white hair and as the distance between Jennifer and Bruce becamer shorter it would appear that she had infact dyed her hair black, a centimeter of white seen by her scalp.

Upon finally closing the distance she would speak again, inserting the datapad back into one of the many pouches that lined the belt around her waist, various tools and cases as well as an old slug thrower strapped to it. “I need a lift to Nar’Shadda. If that is indeed your space ship over there, can you take me there? I got the credits."

[member="Bruce Stormanl"]​

 

[Bruce Stormanl]

[member="Jen"]

The smell of rot and swamp may have disgusted most of the beings on the planet. But to Bruce it was a welcome scent. Anything regardless of how vile it actually smelled was a welcome change to the largely built bearded man. For far too long he breathed in the same stale recycled air in his ship. Every little chemical note of stagnant water and rot was a symphony for his olfactory nerves. Just a moment ago he was dower and apathetic from the long lonely voyage. While Bruce loved the freedom his chosen lifestyle afforded him it did on occasion become tiresome. But just in the few moments that he had be a free of the Durasteel beast behind him he felt his mood lighten. That was until he heard the odd voiced young woman call to him.

At first he paid her no attention. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with another person wanting a ride. There was always at least one being at each port that tried to either swindle their way onto a ship or beg for a free ride. So despite seeing her coming toward him he ignored her. Though it quickly became clear that ignoring her would not do the trick. So with a scowl on his bearded face he grunted a response. "Yeah it's mine. How much ya got and what ya hauling?" His piercing azure eyes ficked only briefly toward the droid she had been near as if he was assessing a potential threat. But once his eyes fell back on the lithe young woman he glowered down at the woman who's waist couldn't have been as wide as the older man's thigh.

Her heritage was obvious to the gray haired older human. Though her human charastics did strike him as somewhat odd. Bruce had been from one end of the galaxy to the other and nearly everwhere I between during his sixty some years aboard the old freighter in the background and it always amazed him of some of the hybrid species he encountered. Mixings he never thought possible seemed to greet him in every port of call.

Before she had the chance to answer he spoke again in the same deep gravely voice. "And so ya don't end up wasting my time I expect payment upfront."

 

[Jen]

Usually the haulers of this world were some of the more laid-back ones, the buzzing hub of commerce meant that most freighter pilots usually got a larger than normal boost on their credit accounts. That in turn meant that making an upfront payment was not most people’s primary concern when asked if they could transport people. Instead they were already dreaming of the things they could buy with their new found wealth. Upon hearing Bruce respond to her question, she realized she would have been off better waiting for this man to return after his visit in town before asking for ride. It probably would not have helped however. Either way she realized she had miscalculated his cheerfulness.

Jennifer rubbed her tattooed neck, the wide smile of hers having vanished as Bruce had demanded to see payment upfront. Her mind raced, still somewhat foggy from the deathstick she had smoked the evening before. That was after all the sole reason for her being on this mess of a swamp planet. She had called in a favor and gotten the durasteel crate behind her. It was possible she could pay for the trip with a fraction of the drugs contained in the crate; however, she figured it was not the most optimal solution. Even though drugs weren't strictly outlawed in this part of the galaxy she didn't know the man well enough to share such a secret.

She blew a few strands of hair away from her amber eyes as she began talking once again, adjusting the oil stained harem trousers of hers and the tool filled belt along with them. “Okay... Okay, so I can’t pay upfront. But once I get to Nar’Shadda I certainly could…-“ She knew it wasn’t going to cut it, but luckily for her she was interrupted as the mechanical voice from her droid resounded behind her, warning the insectoid like alien to stay away from her belongings. “Oi! Bugger off!” Jennifer shouted, raising her voice once again within the past two minutes or so. Yet this time the yelling was directed not towards Bruce, but at the insectoid. She turned away from Bruce and ran towards her bags with a hand by her slug thrower. She sighed in frustration upon reaching the bags and scaring off the alien in the process. With a sudden urge to keep her belongings close she picked up the duffel bag and threw it over her shoulder, having a difficult time with lifting the crate until she got assistance from her guard droid who grasped it under its right arm. She was visibly tired, exhausted almost and just in that moment one with keen eyes and mind could see through the cracks of the beskar-like surface that was Jennifer’s attitude. Behind it, was a broken young girl. Jennifer trudged back towards Bruce, her voice resonating of defeat, yet she still attempted the plea. “C’mon man. I need to get off this stinkhole… Is something karked up on the ship? I could fix it in return for the trip.”

[member="Bruce Stormanl"]​

 

[Bruce Stormanl]

Bruce sighed, it was exactly as he expected. The young hybred woman was trying to swindle him. It wasn't entirely unexpected though. It was a sad state of affairs when a being automatically expected it before hearing a word. But such was the state of the galaxy. Over the decades the muscular older human learned that while there were thousands upon thousands of different species in the galaxy they were more or less the same. Half seemed to either be fanatically dedicated to destroy the other half. Or they were trying to fark the other over. And while Bruce had taken his fair share of jobs that weren't exactly legal, he took pride in the fact that he never had to resort to swindling his way through life.

When she turned and ran toward her belongings Bruce began walking towards the city again. He knew he should have just ignored her in the first place. It was always the same. Beings simply were no good. He did fully intend to continue to ignore her until she got the hint. But there was something in her voice that have the large human pause. So with a sigh he stopped and turned back toward her. "Nope. Ship runs fine." He retorted. The statement wasn't exactly the truth though. While it was true that there was nothing wrong with the majority of the systems there were things that needed fixed. Though he couldn't imagine that the cost of labor could even come close to matching the cost of fuel that he would expend making an unscheduled landing on another planet. It was almost never worth the cost to transport one person unless they had an excess of funds to blow. So he crossed his arms over his expansive chest and nodded toward the droid. "I might be convinced to make a trade though. I'll give ya a ride for your droid."

No. That was not going to be his final offer. But there was nothing in his sour expression or posture to cue her into that. "I've been looking for a good droid brain to link in with my navcomputer." a small hint of a grin crossed his bearded face when he paused for a moment. "Agree to that and you got yourself a ride no questions asked."

[member="Jen"]

 

[Annaka]

Annaka was cold, colder than she ever remembered being. Everything was wet. From her knit beanie down to her shoes were soaked and she was famished. But that was nothing new. Her life had been like that ever since she could remember. The little redheaded girl had been lost for so long that she barely remembered her life at the orphanage. Vague memories of having a full belly and a warm bed flirted through her mind when her mind had time to rest. There was however precious little time to rest. The lithe little girl found that even though this planet wasn't as populated as coruscant, the dangers were far greater. Starvation was a constant reminder of her dire situation. In Coruscant there was a wealth of generous people who were eager to help a homeless little girl. But here people were mean and only concerned with themselves. It seemed like they would rather step on her as look at her with a kind smile.

Tears streamed down her dirty face as she trudged through the muck, she was so cold and wet that her body physically hurt. That coupled with the mental anguish caused by her situation and the fact that she couldn't remember the last time she had anything to eat made her not want to go on. A part of her young mind wanted to just lay down in the muck next to the large building he walked next to and let whatever was to happen happen. But she didn't. Instead her body took over and she acted on instinct. While her entire body shivered violently her legs kept walking. The natural desire to survive was strong in all peoples, and Annaka was no different.

Eventually the tiny child came to a large open doorway and felt a blast of semi-warm air. Vibrant blue eyes peered from beneath a dirty face into the darkness inside the building. She hated the darkness. Darkness was where had things happened. But she completely loathed being cold. So her tiny feet shuffled forward into the darkness.

Much to her surprise the expansive building was not as dark as she previously believed. Once she passed out of the dull light of the planet's overcast sky she found herself in a warehouse. A warehouse full of metals. Some stacked neatly stacked in pressed plates. Others looked like haphazardly stacked scrap. What Annaka did not know was that she stepped foot into a small staging area for refined Durasteel that had just recently been pressed into laminent sheets. The process was a crude one. One that simply used pressure to create heat to fuse the sheets together in order to form a low quality armor that would then be shipped to factories elsewhere in the galaxy. All the young girl knew was it was warm in the building. So she walked through the dimly lit warehouse until she found some sheets that had been covered by tarps. A tiny tenative hand lifted the heavy tarp and felt the warmth of the slowly cooling metal and a small smile crossed her dirty features. She shimmied into a narrow gap between two stacks of metal and dropped the tarp.

 

[Jen]

"Nope. Ship runs fine." The man said through his beard.

Jennifer was stunned, her eyes glancing towards the parked old freighter in the background. Surely, something had to be karked up inside that venerable thing. She herself owned, or… She was not exactly sure if she did own it anymore, if the ship was even intact. Either way it did not matter much. Even though it had not been many years, it seemed like it had been lifetime ago that she had been Coruscant, living in her ancient YT-2400. Correllian engineering was the type of ships Jennifer paid the most respect to out of does she had owned herself. But even though they were some tough poodoos, ships such as those got beat up real good during their time in the big black. Most were bound to have a few flaws if some fancy schooled engineering student or anything even resembling that had ever touched them.

She knew he was bluffing even though the stern expression of his said different. She did not pursue it though; she rarely followed her instincts unless she was working. She always attempted to come to rational conclusions, even when she perhaps should just have let instinct guide her. Instincts that at times were fueled by The Force. It was one of the few flaws she had. She rarely listened to herself.

As Bruce nodded towards her droid, wanting it as compensation for the trip she was once again baffled. She didn't want to stay here, that much was certain. But giving up one of the few droids she hadn't used for parts for her computer back home? Damn... She opened her mouth to throw an insult at him in protest, gaping in silence for a second as she instead opted for the more indirect approach. Swinging an arm widely as she poked the raven and rusty droid behind her. “This ain’t no nerf herding Astromech.” She said in hidden desperation, standing on her toes as she poked towards the droid’s head as close as she could reach. “This is a fourth degree droid. One of those fancy combat droids, you familiar? You will get little out of this one’s hardware or software if you want a better Navi. You would be better off trying to use it as a Protocol Droid. I would know I helped build and code the DD-S1’s.” She took a deep breath and exhaled just as deeply, a hand digging into one of her many pockets to procure a lighter and a bend cigarette. “You know.” She said as she started lighting the cigarette from the side of her lips. “It would serve you much better if I calculated some preset jump points to some of your favorite destinations. Like…” She puffed on the lit cigarette as she turned towards her droid. “This one is only good at giving karkers ass whooping’s."

[member="Bruce Stormanl"]​

 

[Bruce Stormanl]

Had she been a trained force wielding being she would not only have felt the apprehension in his natural aura but would have noticed the minute movements he made while she tried to bolster her own position. As she became heated he already flicked the communicator on his wrist, a small action that to the untrained eye may have seemed like a nervous reaction or natural body language. The slow movement of him crossing his wrists over his abdomine was an instinctive one many beings made when attempting to close themselves off from a line of questioning or an agressive advance. That natural reaction to a threat coupled by the step backward aught to have showed his apprehension at her sudden aggressive tone. Though all this was delibrate.

A split second after he took that single step back he saw the underhull open and the two blaster cannon emerge then zero in on the young druggie and her droid. ''Look kiddo." He said with a smile. A genuine honest smile. "I don't need a protocol droid. I don't need a droid that is top of the line coded perfectly. I don't need pre-plotted courses. What I need is a hot fracking meal and a bottle of whiskey."

His calm demenor quickly turned to one of a perturbed old man as he spoke. "No amount of coding can replace experience And even droids benefit from that. Your droid ain't worth nothing to me but parts." His astromech's actions were only a safeguard in the event that the young woman decided to escalate things further. So Bruce glowered down at her and dropped his hands to his sides. Confident in his position he continued to speak in that same gravely voice that held a little distain. "So. Ya can either get the fark away from me or accept my offer." He paused only briefly. "Or repair the refresher and waste system in the passenger cabin and give me a fifth of what you're hauling." Had Bruce not been angry he would have confirmed the contents of the box before making his final offer. But as his blood pressure rose he stopped thinking clearly.

[member="Jen"]

 

[Jen]

The fact that a pair of blaster cannons were suddenly activated from a landed ship was probably noticed by the surrounding few people of the spaceport. The flock of people that inhabited the place and traveled up and down the roads glanced at the ship with suspicion before carrying on with their everyday activities. Jennifer would also have noted the activation of the ships weapons had it not been for her dedication to her current conversation with Bruce. And the fact that she hadn’t imagined him to be the type of person who resorted to lethal force over an argument. Not that she was not familiar with ruthlessness, but still. Who knew, she had already misjudged him once.

The bend cigarette of hers dangled from the corner of her mouth, a steady stream of cyan smoke hovering towards the murky skies from the orange glowing tip. She listened somewhat patiently as he retaliated, her arms now also crossed, mirroring Bruce as he talked. She supposed she could see the logic in his side of the argument; he was simply trying to make a living. Perhaps Jennifer was truly too spoiled, usually that was how unprepared minds became when coming into possession of a lot of money. Once, not long ago she had been a part of the upper echelons of the criminal syndicate of the Red Ravens. A syndicate that had not only beaten the notorious Black Sun into hiding, but also had complete eradicated them from multiple worlds. Jennifer had become rich through her dealings in the Ravens, extraordinarily rich. Possessing a type of wealth that could only have been achieved if you were close friends with people who in a very literal sense owned over ten star systems. Nevertheless, that was of the past. It was no more. The Ravens had fallen apart after some of the major figureheads within the Syndicate, including herself, had fled and betrayed the one that had led the Ravens at the time. Jennifer had been a part of the assassination ploy to take back the Ravens, it had failed and now she was here, seperated from her wealth. It was however a false assumption to think she didn’t own a dime to her name anymore, after all, a billion credits didn’t just disappear overnight. No. Contrary to Bruce, she was not trying to make a living, but reclaim her old life.

She sighed with a slight smile seen upon her pale features as he mentioned experience and coding, rolling her eyes in a subtle, but noticeably manner as she mumbled a response after having blown out a cloud of cyan cigarette smoke. “Obviously, Oldie. Both coding and experience are just software though.” She noted, somewhat cocky as she took yet another drag from the crumbled cigarette. As he made his finally offer, she could not hide her discontent with the broken systems of his ship. “I won’t touch your waste system. You can get some fueling guy to do that. But! I will fix up the refresher and raise your share of my haul from twenty to twenty five percent, yea?” Even though she did not like departing with a percentage of her haul she at this point just needed to get away from this world. You know, before people realized who had given them fake credits.

[member="Bruce Stormanl"]​

 

[Bruce Stormanl]

Bruce was not normally the type of man to jump straight to the most lethal option he had. While he was hot tempered and very set in his ways, he was also the type of man that would talk his way through something before resorting to violence. However, there have been far too many times that he nearly lost his life by not being cautious enough. He hoped that he wouldn't have to rely on the two blaster cannon that were trained on the Droid and young woman. But he sure was not going to get caught with his pants down. There have been many times in past years that he had dealings with beings like this young woman. He knew the type, and could see the haze of the after effects of whatever she did the night prior. He wasn't assuming that she was an addict. He knew many people that were able to balance recreational drugs with a somewhat normal life. He also knew that it was safer to assume that she would continue to try to swindle him. Or worse, kill him and take his ship.

A small smirk finally crossed his face when she countered his offer and retorted "Well. That's almost fair. Depending on what you're hauling." It was then that the behemoth of an older man looked away from her toward the ancient YT-- 2000 and it's double armored hull. Then continued to speak. "I'm gonna assume it's either drugs or stolen goods." When he looked back toward her he continued to continue to smirk. "So I'm gonna assume it'll actually be worth hauling you and yours."

Off in the distance where the warehouse lay he saw a loader bringing the first pallet of laminated armor toward his ship. It seemed that for once the ground crew was actually on their toes, or repulsors rather, and would have his own haul loaded in a matter of hours instead of the full day he was expecting. "So yeah. I'll agree to your terms with one modification. I'm gonna need a bottle of Corellian reserve. I'm thirsty and you look like a woman that needs to get gone soon." It was of course another assumption. But it was one he felt safe making. Why else would she have been so willing to up the percentage of his take? While it was true that he looked forward to spending some time planet side. If she pulled through and was willing to accept his counter offer he would simply have his fun at his next stop. "Feel free to have your Droid watch over your haul in my hold while yards fetch my whiskey." He said as he turned toward the ship that still had its retractable blaster cannons trained on her and her Droid.

[member="Jen"]

 

[Jen]

He had a knack for hitting the nail on the head with most of his assumptions, that much was certain. She almost smiled at the comment regarding his hunch on what the crate she was hauling contained, not commenting on it, yet a knowing twinkle in her amber eyes were seen as Bruce spoke. As he talked she held the almost finished cigarette between two of her fingers as she took it out of her mouth, smoke trailing out from her mouth as she looked around the spaceport, a certain sharpness in her gaze and glance. Jennifer was still keeping an eye out for potential… Well, everything. Enemies were everywhere and even though she had not exactly made friends on the planet, it was not the ones she had tricked her mind was the most worried about. Instead, she glanced for common lowlife, bounty hunters, etc. She found no one that were paying just too close attention to her and Bruce and she seemed just a tad calmer as she looked back towards him. Perhaps her trick had really worked; perhaps no one would actually notice the crate that had gone missing until she was long gone.

She hoped it was the case.

Upon spotting the repulsor crafts, Jennifer nodded in their direction. “Seems like your cargo is here.” She mumbled with a slight grin as she took yet another drag from the cigarette, savoring what was left of the tobacco in the burning paper roll. Hearing his final offer, she nodded a few times, swinging her duffel bag over her shoulder as she slowly started to walk towards his ship from where they had been standing. She took a last long drag from the cigarette as she walked, flicking it out of her fingers and letting it fly through the air with its cyan smoke trail behind it, until it fell onto the ground. She spoke as she started to leave, her droid following her with the crate. “You must be insane to think they sell Corellian for a proper price on this backwater planet, Old man.” She smiled at him over her shoulder, stopping to tramp the last dying breaths out of her cigarette on the ground, her back turned to him. “I got some beverages in my bag you can have, not exactly Corellian or Thwyren, but you know… And considering that we will hit Nar’Shaddaa in under an hour it doesn’t matter much, does it? If you’re persistent, we can just hit some cantina. I’ll pay.” She smiled, actually smiled for the first time even though it wasn’t visible to Bruce as she looked at the ship, eager to get going: “C’mon now.” She started to walk again. “Oh, by the way. In case you wanted to know, ny name is Jennifer, but you can just call me Jen.”

[member="Bruce Stormanl"]​