Private Contractual Capers

[Bohatei Chorva]

Bohatei's gaze briefly falls on Maya as she sighed in response to his remark, leaning back in the chair which creaked softly from disuse. The leather was still in nice condition, comfortingly holding it's occupant as the pilot checked the navicomputer which finally beeped affirmatively. Their route was calculated and ready, all that needed doing was relocating to the specified coordinates.

Which he started doing, changing the direction of the vessel and speeding it up to start making their way to the appropriate location to launch themselves into Hyperspace. The Zabrak flipped a few more switches in the centre console, a dull hum and click was the ship's response.

With the Hyperdrive warming up, Bohatei sighed as she asked about his story, a soft huff leaving him as he paused for a second.

"Can't say there's a whole lot to it, I'm afraid. Born 'n raised in Corellia. Dad died when I was real young. Turbolift accident, they called it." He explained, an idle hand thumbing the vessel's controls. "Had to move back in with my aunts then after. From there, I bounced between jobs before eventually finding my way into an interest in martial arts."

"Couple beatin's sorted that out right quick." Bohatei chuckled dryly, taking a drink from his tea before setting it aside once more. "After that, found my way into a small cargo shippin' business. Couple years go by, and next thing I know all the others jumped ship and here I am, carryin' to and fro on my lonesome."

The Zabrak pauses for a second, before letting out a chuckle or two. "Yeah, can't say there's not a whole lot of silver linin' to look at. Just gotta keep on keepin' on, no sense thinkin' on the past."

He exhales for a moment, before a trio of beeps from the centre console catches his attention. "Alright, we're here. Just gotta wait for the Hyperdrive to be warmed up, and we'll be on our way."

 

[Clone trooper 10]

Wait

 

[Verin Oldo]

TATOOINE SPACE
CIS TERRITORY

"The dereliction of duty is a matter beyond comprehension and thus something to be avoided at all costs."

Even Oldo shuddered at the archaic language in the manual. He had studied the Articles of War by Denias Lix at the Academy some thirty years prior and couldn't believe it was still being taught even now. The assembled Ensigns looked enthused as he finished the lesson for today.

"You have your assignments. General Order begins in ten minutes-get yourselves where you need to be. Dismissed."

The group of officers stood from their seats and saluted the High Marshal, chief NAVCOM representative of the Bassadro Sector Armada and one of the most senior officers in the Confederate Navy. The CNS Flying Avento, one of the sector's mighty Grievous-class Star Destroyers, bristled with energy as the ship made its final approaches to Tatooine, where it would debark for a few days before carrying on its tour of the area. The vast warship was quite the sight and its various support craft and fighter escorts swarmed around it as it approached the planet after a long journey through the hyperlanes.

Oldo sighed, moving from the makeshift lecture hall and onto the suspended gangway above the bridge, his own command deck sat high above the bustling hub of consoles, computers and data stations. Countless officers moved, droids supplementing various posts and orders rang out, keeping the warship in action safely.

The comms array to Oldo's immediate left pinged with various signals, messages springing back and forth between the planet's surface and this strike force as it approached the planet. It wouldn't land in any commercial space port-none could house the vast Star Destroyer, but it would stay in orbit and be serviced by CIS support ships for the next few days.

The traffic around the orbit of the planet was light today-most ships doing their trading on busier days. Local forces would deal with them but the Avento was monitoring traffic, just to see if any threats presented themselves.

"Marshal, we have a ping."

He furrowed his brow and looked at his display. Interesting, to find a catch so close to a Confederate planet.

"It's a 720. The registration looks a little funny, sir. Not exactly Fondor-standard."

'Fondor-standard' was a colloquial term used by Navvers to mean 'Immaculately in order'. The registration looked...interesting.

"They won't be expecting us, Captain. Launch fighters and detain them. Have the ship make for them and detain them. The Knight will want to speak to them, I'm sure."

Oldo was referring to the Knight of the Knights Obsidian currently sequestered to his ship. Though he far outranked them, a knight of the KO was somewhat out of the normal chain of command-they were protectors of the Confederacy and thus without question.

Several squadrons of vulture droids began to make their way to the freighter, racing as fast as they could to catch it before it made any attempt to leave the system. A communique rang out.

"Attention, pilot. This is the Confederate Navy. You are being detained. Do not attempt to evade capture."

That'll keep em still for a little while, he thought, the behemoth warship making its slow way towards the much smaller freighter.


C Clone trooper 10 Bohatei Chorva

 

[Clone trooper 10]

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[Bohatei Chorva]

Bohatei's expression furrows as an alert begins winking at his side, the orange light making a foreboding beep sound as he recognized the sound. A circular screen picks up a number of blinking energy signs that surrounded the vessel.

A frustrated sigh leaves him.

"The long arm of the law, no doubt." The Zabrak explains, a concerned eye flicking to Maya. "Not fast enough. Just relax, lemme do the talkin'." He replies, an idle hand brushing a lock of his hair back as he took a swig of his tea. Setting it down, he would reach across the console as he pressed down on a switch, confirming the communications as the holo-projector flickered to life as he twisted the camera.

The communications console on the recipients end was met with the young Zabrak's gaze, dressed in the standard wear for a Confederate's Cargo Tech, his head adorned with the familiar cream-colored horns that crowned a Zabrak.

"Evening, Sir. This is the Contact V. Can I ask the reason for this detainment?" Bohatei inquired.

An idle hand wraps around the ship's throttle, easing down the thrust before moving further down. Stopping the Hyperdrive's warm-up process, he locked down the coordinates in case they needed to get out quickly.

 

[Clone trooper 10]

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[Verin Oldo]

Bohatei Chorva C Clone trooper 10

Verin smirked to himself, going through the manifest documentation of the craft that was available on the secure holonet that was utilized by the internal operations of the NAVCOM. He had absolutely zero intention of communicating any further with the craft, other than to inform them of their instruction to cooperate fully with the forces presented to them. They were in Confederate territory, within the gravity well of a planet-that meant that were doubly under the jurisdiction of the Naval forces present.

The vast battlecruiser began its slow rotation, catching the intended target within a tractor beam. Most complying ships were less than helpful when it came to being boarded, let alone detained in this manner. Others, Verin surmised, also didn't want to commit to helping navigate the vast ship, lest they did something foolhardy or, worse yet, damaged the battlecruiser. The Al'raja began to dwarf the ship as it tugged on it with its tractor array.

"Bring them in nice and slowly. Have personnel ready and waiting to receive them. Board them as per regulation, Captain. Then we shall have them brought for further questioning by the Knight Officer."

Oldo blinked, looking at the tactical display showing the captured vessel edging closer towards the hull of the mighty battle-ship. He did enjoy power so.

 

[Clone trooper 10]

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[Bohatei Chorva]

Bohatei's eyes remain focused on the console, a brief thought of dread flickering through his thoughts as Maya's more refined senses picked up on a presence within the vessel. His expression furrows in response, only made more apparent as Maya continues to bug him about getting out of here. He switches off the transmission.

"A single laser turret on the top section. Even if you do manage to shoot the others out of the void, we'll be turned into slag by the vessel that is-" The vessel lurched, a tractor lock warning flashing on his vessel.

"That is now pulling us in! Bastard!" He curses under his breath. "Just had to be one of these pencil pushing schmucks. 'Course. Just my bloody luck.." The Zabrak continues his frustrations for a few moments, before catching his tongue and getting his thoughts back under control. He swallows the stress and takes a slow and steady breath.

Bohatei exhales his concern, and regains his focus.

"Easy, Maya. We don't exactly have much of a choice here. So cool those jets of yours, and relax. Just let me do the talkin', and we'll be fine."

 

[Clone trooper 10]

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[Bohatei Chorva]

Bohatei considers his options at Maya's suggestion. On one hand, it would help keep her out of sight. Although, considering how things have gone so far, it would look nowhere near as well if they found her. Human trafficking was something the young Zabrak did not want on his permanent record. Taking a deep breath and briefly looking in her direction, his curious gaze follows the weapon on her side.

"Problem with that bein' that if they do find you, we'll be even more screwed." He muses softly, taking another swig from his tea. "Alright, here's an idea. There's a couple of unused rooms in on the hall to the right. One of them used to be a crewmate's. How good are you at faking sickness? We can pretend you've got somethin' nasty and contagious."

 

[Clone trooper 10]

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[Verin Oldo]

Like a hungry serpent, it ate the ship.

The impounded ship had no chance of outrunning a Grievous. It was second only to the Victator class battlecruiser and hearing of the latest damage those had handed out in recent engagements, no sane pilot would attempt it. The various mechanisms brought the detained ship into a held position, finally making contact with the decking area designated for it. Countless other ships, droids and soldiers milled about, going about their duties. To impound a ship like this was pretty exciting for a crew; they were used to punching holes into enemy capital ships, their days of routine detention long over.

Lieutenant Alder made her way down the gangway from the Deck's control centre, built high into the wall of the large hangar. She looked a fine sight in her crisp uniform and neat cap, blaster holstered on her right hip. She was met by the Sergeant on duty, a man known as Maloy. He was accompanied by two squads of troopers, sixteen in total, armed and ready to inspect the ship.

A series of mists and sprays were launched at the ship, ensuring nothing untoward or biological had been captured in the process. Once it was clear, Maloy and his Lieutenant would board the ship and check the cargo manifests and logs for anything suspicious.

The control center called into the ship.

"Impounded Freighter, you are advised at this point to make the entrance point of your vessel known to us. Please lower all rampways and prepare to be boarded. You are asked to remain seated in the cockpit."

Alder smiled at the Sergeant as they approached the ship.


C Clone trooper 10 Bohatei Chorva

 

[Clone trooper 10]

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