Discount Bin Shopping (Republic Space)

[Zofia Marek]

A single ship exited hyperspace, emerging into the darkness of space. Far, far in the distance a glittering gem floated, the telltale of a single planet orbiting the system's star. Ahead was what could only be described as part debris field, part graveyard. Garbage, scrap, and even sections of ships could be seen, but despite the huge amounts of potential salvage, the floating scrapyard was untouched. As much as it was garbage, it was someone's garbage and that someone was the Galactic Republic, not that it bothered the captain of the Hellion much at all.

"I thought the Umbaran system would be more... appealing," she mused as she felt the engines send the deck vibrating beneath her boots. She touched a few keys on the panel beside her until the desired holodisplay jumped up from the projector. "Change heading by four degrees, Mr. Chafor. We want to avoid the debris field where possible."

"Aye, Cap'n," came the only response as the helmsman followed orders.

She watched the viewscreen shift up ahead and turned back to the display she'd brought up. The debris field was treasure trove of scrap for the right person or people, but not for Captain Marek and her crew. What they wanted was just beyond the junkyard where scanner pings picked out metallic signals set in neat rows and arrayed in organized sections.

"Sensors," she called, her voice cutting through the quiet chatter cleanly and easily. She waited until her chief sensor officer raised her head before continuing. "Ms. Pemrum, if you would be so kind, sweep for higher density signatures and for any high amounts of residual power traces somewhere around cruiser-class in size. We're looking for something that has a bit more mass to it than most and could potentially still have an active, and powerful, reactor, if only dormant."

The female officer didn't bother responding and simply jumped straight to work. As the sensors on board reached out, searching for what Marek had outlined, the Cathar privateer stood comfortably and waited. With luck, this would be a very simple, very quiet errand that would pay off quite nicely indeed.

 

[Zofia Marek]

The Hellion skirted the debris field by a small margin, keeping close half to use as cover should the Republic suddenly and randomly show up to defend their figurative trash can from a scavenger, half to keep her crew busy with practice. The helmsman made minor adjustments to keep them on course while deftly avoiding the larger clusters of scrap and ship sections. Meanwhile, the petty officers assigned to gunnery worked the frigate's tractor beams, pushing away whatever was big enough to bother the shields but small enough to shift rather than waste time and fuel avoiding. All the while, the sensor technicians worked diligently to scan the area ahead, searching for the elusive telltales of their goal.

"Mr. Midoto," Marek called, turning slightly to look at her comms officer. The dark skinned Chiss turned around in his chair, one eyebrow quirked above red eyes. "Comm Ensign Ludypt and let her know to gather her engineers together in the hangar. She's to leave approximately half of her people on board to organize and catalog incoming equipment and the other half she's to take with her to salvage what we need. She's to prioritize weapons and their replacement parts, fuel is secondary, and all else is tertiary short of something... unique."

"Yes, Cap'n," came Midoto's response before he turned to his controls. Within moments he was passing along the necessary information and Marek returned to her casual stance as her crew went about their tasks. Up ahead, the rows and lines of ships became visible as they neared the mothballed fleet. In a way, it was strange to see so many ships left alone and unguarded. She half expected a trap, but with the way the Republic had been fighting lately, she figured it could go either way at this point.

 

[Zofia Marek]

"Sensor spike, putting it up on your HUD now, Cap'n," came the call from the sensor tech.

"Thank you, Ms. Pemrum," was the Cathar's only response. She gazed at the sensor pings for a few minutes, taking in the data it displayed and mulling it over. After a short time, she nodded once and closed the display out. "Data reads that the density scans on individual pings are denser on the third row in, starting about halfway. Mr. Chafor, adjust course as appropriate and bring us alongside the first of the contacts."

"Aye-aye, Cap'n," came the response from the helmsmen, the same response he always gave. Zofia's eyes flicked over at the big man, the back of his coat and head clearly visible from her position.

"And don't scratch my ship, Mr. Chafor," she chided lightly.

"Aye, Cap'n," came the only reply, the tone deadpan as always.

"You're slacking, Mr. Chafor. I think I heard a glint of humor in your voice. You'll need to be careful, if you grin that face of yours might just crack in half."

The exchange was deadpan and professional as always, and she was certain her helmsman's face hadn't so much as twitched at her mild jest, but she was determined to make the man at least smirk before the old hand retired in the future. The man wasn't dour nor did he have any sense of humor, just that it was the driest humor she'd ever seen and no one on board ship had ever seen him so much as smile, though a rare few of the old hands swore up and down that they had known someone who had.

She turned her attention back to the display ahead of her and kept watch of the pings and data that scrolled across her HUD. Unlike most naval officers, she didn't need a visual display of ship positions, though it was very useful in the most chaotic situations. Rather, she preferred looking at raw data, charted positions, and the like. It was part mental exercise, part homage to the ancient, primitive way of captaining a ship: from the quarterdeck of a sailing ship using intuition, skill, and mettle to survive whatever may come.

For Marek, the data told her that their objective was nearing. It was only a matter of time.

 

[Zofia Marek]

The minutes stretched along one by one as the Hellion grew closer to its target. In the viewscreen before her, the sensor pings in the data slowly grew to little dots and shapes hanging in space. In a short time, the dots and shapes grew ever larger, slowly materializing into the ships that they were. The helmsman navigated the mothballed fleet and the multitude of ships with a practiced hand, easily threading the Hellion through the serried ranks of retired vessels. They passed many rows of the old ships, but it was the particular rows of vessels ahead that Zofia wanted: the Watts Class.

The Watts class was a heavy cruiser designed to outgun, outweigh, and outclass anything it came against near to its own size. It traded hangar capacity and thick armor plating for raw firepower to blast its way through problems. The ship was a heavyweight for its time, but had been mothballed many years ago by a former Supreme Chancellor. Marek wasn't entirely sure what the reasons were, but the general rumor mill told her it was either due to the typical power plays within the Republic or the company of origin, Baktoid, had somehow screwed the proverbial bantha somehow. Personally, Zofia didn't care, she wasn't here for the ships.

She was just here for parts.

The frigate lined up on the first Watt's class and she felt the slight inertia as the helmsman, Chafor, slowed the vessel to a steady stop. As the Hellion came to a complete stop, two tractor beams snapped out to grab the derelict ship. Inch by inch, the two ships grew closer until only a few dozen meters separated the two vessels. Satisfied with her crew's efforts, she knew her chief engineer would get the job done with ease and simplicity once the all clear came through. Which reminded her...

"Mr. Midoto, alert Ensign Ludypt that she may begin work if she hasn't already."

-------------------------------------------

Ensign La Ludypt often felt less like an engineer and more akin to a grade school teacher sometimes. As she tried to shepherd her command into the waiting skiffs, she felt like a third year educator taking her charges on a field trip to the zoo.

"<I said not to bring the extra arc torches, we have extra already!>" came the exasperated voice of the Sullustan engineer. "<I said leave them in storage and if we needed them, it would be to cut up the stuff we bring back! Does anyone listen at all?>"

The underling she'd been speaking to - or, rather, had been shouting across the hangar bay at - nodded once and dashed off to put the crate back into the cargo bay. Ludypt turned and got back to work, yelling different orders at different people, making sure the work was getting done. Her command knew she wasn't legitimately angry or upset, this was just how she ran things. If the boss was yelling, things were good. It was when it was dead quiet that the worrying started. Yelling one more order, Ludypt answered the commlink she carried as it blinked with a message.

"<Yes?>" her eyes blinked only once as she listened to the message and didn't bother replying. Closing the link, she turned back to the men and women scurrying over the skiffs. "<Listen up! Cap gave the all clear! On the skiffs now or so help me I'll start booting arses out the bay doors until the deck is clear, understood!?>"

 

[Zofia Marek]

One by one the skiffs exited the hangar and made the short jump across the gap towards the waiting derelict. A hovered and waited a few minutes as one of the small transports clamped to the hull, letting the crew on board slice through the lock. After a few tries and at least one heavy blow to the mechanism, the cargo doors opened. The small number of the vehicles ducked into the opening and disappeared.

The others darted up and around, flitting across the surface of the Watts class as they marked out key locations. The ship itself was untouched for the most part, though generally empty of supplies and ammunition, but that wasn't entirely what the crewmen were looking for. Instead they quickly mapped out the external weaponry, marking down the primary takes and organizing secondary and tertiary locations for salvage.

Inside, Ludypt was getting things organized and moving. While there'd been no statement of anyone coming to discuss why their ship was in Republic space, it was better to speed things along and leave as soon as they were done than linger any more than was needed.

"<Tran!>" she shouted over internal comms from inside her environmental suit. One of the figures nearby turned, revealing the face of a Duros crewman. "<Tran, take three and find the bridge. I want you to slice into the computers there and see what's left. If you can find a proper layout of the weapon systems, copy it and shunt it to the crew outside the ship.>"

She didn't wait for the Duros to respond, but it didn't matter anyways. He was already grabbing a few men and immediately figuring out the proper direction for his destination.

"<Iya!>" came the next shout.

"Iyal'puwut," corrected the Twi'lek woman.

"<Iya!>" Ludypt repeated. She preferred speed and efficiency over proper name usage, save for those above her. It meant things got done faster and, in Iya's case, got her attention twice as fast as calling her by her full name. "<Take two with you and start cataloging anything left in this cargo bay and any others if there are any. Anything we can use, load it up. Important stuff takes priority, anything else gets staged for a second load if we have time.>"

"Understood," came the only response.

"<And not that I think there's any on this tub, but snacks and sweets are not priority or secondary! There will not be a repeat of Vergesso and I am not coming back to drag you out by your arse while getting shot at just to find you had dumped candy bars in an ammo crate again!>" she called at the Twi'lek who gave a lazy wave in response. Ludypt shook her head and turned back to her work, hopeful that her message got across Iya's mind.

"<I swear, how that girl eats that much in sweets and keeps that figure, I'll never know,>" she muttered as she glanced down at her own stocky figure. "<I eat a combo meal at McYoda's and I jiggle for a week, she eats a box of candy and nothing changes. Damn Twi'lek metabolism.>"

 

[Zofia Marek]

Work began in earnest and here and there, sparks flew from the Watts' hull as crews cut through hull plating with plasma cutters. Inside, the same levels of organized chaos continued as crewmen scurried about the cargo bay. Some disappeared into nearby doors to venture down hallways, searching for anything of importance while others loaded crates of what few supplies were left on board. For the most part, the crates were filled spare parts, discarded tools, and junk. What things they figured they could use, the loaded up and as the first skiff lifted off and slipped out the bay doors, Ludypt stood in the middle of the organized mob.

"<Hey, who's loading loose tools?>" she called, snatching up a spanner off the top of the skiff. Others were dumped there as well, scattered about as if someone had tossed them up there.

"Sorry! Crate broke, we're actually working on cleaning them up," called one of the men nearby as he chucked a bunch of the tools into the corner. "Was stuck on another crate and it looked like one whole box, not two."

"<Well clean it up faster, we don't know how long we have here and its in the way of loading!>" Ludypt ordered, her voice booming over their commlinks. As she turned to double check the other skiffs, she stopped a moment to answer the comm call that lit up her HUD.

"<What?>" she asked, not bothering to alter the volume of her voice. "<What do you mean you 'found something'? What did you find?... No, I'm not guessing!... No, I don't know what you could have possibly found! Just tell me already!... I am not walking all the way over into the aft bay just to see what you found!... I don't care what it is, bring it out here or so help me...!>"

------------------------------------------------

Moments later she found herself stomping through the aft cargo bay, her face a mask of absolute irritation. She spotted the crew that had made their discovery and zeroed in on the small group.

"<What in the karking hell did you drag me all the way over here for when we're on a timeline!?>" she demanded, coming to a stop in from of the junior sailor that had commed her. She jabbed a stubby finger into his chest as she drew herself up to her full height, rising just shy of the man's collarbones. "<This had better be a damn good find or you're riding back to the ship on a tether behind the last skiff!>"

The man said nothing and instead flashed a grin and turned to another of the group, a young woman, who stood next to a rather large, oblong crate in the middle of the group. He gave a nod and she took hold of the lid before sliding it off, sending it clattering to the deck plating. Inside, wrapped in plastic film, were neat rows of weaponry tucked side by side.

"Looks like this one was supplied before the Watts class was deep sixed," the man said, jabbing a thumb at the crate. "We found it buried behind a huge pile of parts and only found it because we had to move it when Parcas here fell behind a couple of the boxes. This one was heavier than the rest and so we got curious after all the excitement. Turns out it was heavier 'cause the crate is armored. I guess it got buried and forgotten, then left behind or just plain lost when the mothballed the ship."

"<These...>" Ludypt said after a moment. Her mind was racing, half because they'd found pristine weaponry on a derelict ship and half because they'd found it by accident. She wasn't much of a person to put faith in fate, but she knew luck when she saw it. "<These go on the first skiff out the door. Good job finding them, but now we need to get them on board.>"

Ludypt looked around a moment and was met with a half dozen smiling faces. One of the crewmen near the crate reached over and high fived the woman, Parcas, as they took a moment to congratulate each other on their find. The Sullustan frowned and switched back into work mode.

"<The hell are you standing around for, patting each other on the back!?>" her voice boomed across the comms, startling the group around her from their momentary celebration. "<I said get these on a skiff! Now! Move it!>"

The sailors around her scurried to obey, the only one hesitating being the only female of the group.

"Ma'am!" Parcas called, moving to a few other crates nearby. "There's more than just that one, though. There's at least three more, each with a different label, but they're all armored and all have weapons in them, just different kinds of weapons. From the logos, it looks like Tenloss is the manufacturer."

"<Then they go on the skiff, too, dammit!>" Ludypt's eyes practically bulged from her skull at the news, but there was work to do. "<Now get them loaded up! Move!>"

As the crew started shifting boxes and getting repulsor equipment together to bring the crates to the skiffs, she stomped back to the main bay. From the sounds of things, work was progressing nice and steady, something that cheered the Sullustan slightly. Suddenly, there came a short burst of cheering as something happened elsewhere in the ship. A quick listen to the frequencies told her what exactly it was and she couldn't help but crack a smile at the news.

The first of the Watts class' guns had been cut free, intact to boot. Now it just needed to be shifted to the Hellion for storage.

 

[Lyth Meran]

The Berdick micro freighter dropped out of hyper space. This was the location all right.
"Well best hail the other ship keep things civil." Lyth said to her self.
" Berdic Micro freighter 77755 hailing the Hellion. requesting permeation to open dialog. i was given this location for salvaging."

[member="Zofia Marek"]

 

[Zofia Marek]

The first few weapons had been loaded on board and from the comm messages she'd received, Marek was keen on getting both the capital guns stored and to inspect the small arms caches that had been found. The first few weapons had been unloaded into the Hellion's cargo bay and were in the process of being secured. The small arms had been immediately sent to the armory for inspection and entry into the supply logs for use on board the ship.

Overall, the operation was going off without a single hitch. That was, until Pemrum spoke up from her post at the sensor console.

"Cap'n, sensor contact," she said, her voice professional and tone neutral. Zofia made sure her bridge crew maintained calm and precision even when everything was going to hell around them. To date, she didn't think she'd ever heard her bridge staff sound anything else when things mattered. "Small signal, hyperspace reentry."

"Unknown vessel is hailing us, patching it through now," came the calm voice of Midoto, suiting action to word.

" Berdic Micro freighter 77755 hailing the Hellion. requesting permeation to open dialog. i was given this location for salvaging."

Marek wasn't sure if she was livid that somehow, somewhere, someone had gotten a hold of data that violated operation security or if she was impressed that whoever had gotten hold of that information was bold enough, or dumb enough, to immediately hail a ship they'd never met, yet knew the name of from apparently leaked information.

"Mr. Midoto, comm silence, if you please. Pass along to all sections and to Ludypt's crew that they are to use short range comms only if she isn't already. We're close enough that long range interceptions aren't entirely plausible, so that's no cause of worry. Ms. Pemrum, how large is the newcomer?"

"Small, Ma'am. Maybe starfighter size at best."

"Cap'n, they referred to themselves as a... 'Micro freighter'? I wasn't aware that was a thing. Perhaps a sort of... salvaging starfighter design?"

"I don't know, and I honestly don't care what they call themselves," came Marek's response, her brow furrowing in thought. "Keep tracking their signal, maintain comm silence. If they get within turbolaser range, fire a warning shot across their bow. If they fail to break off and keep distance, we'll have no choice but to destroy them. It would be suicide to attack us, but stranger things have happened. Besides, as far as we know, the pilot of this 'micro freighter' may just be crazy enough to try. Keep vigilant and watch them, but let's focus on salvage for now."

[member="Lyth Meran"]

 

[Lyth Meran]

[member="Zofia Marek"]

" Hellion this is Lyth Meran of Meran Mechanics and the Mandalorian clans. i simply want to salvage a few parts with out the risk of hostility. please hale? " skev this for a game of soldiers all she wanted was a few blasters and droid parts maybe even a few parts to add to her own droid.
" Ahh frak this im getting stuff. "

 

[Zofia Marek]

"Ma'am, the vessel has identified what could be its Captain and its allegiance," Midoto stated from his post. The Chiss looked up only briefly to make sure he had Marek's attention, something he did out of habit. "Patching it through now."

" Hellion this is Lyth Meran of Meran Mechanics and the Mandalorian clans. i simply want to salvage a few parts with out the risk of hostility. please hale? "

"Never heard of this Meran person," Marek muttered after a moment. "Haven't heard of this Meran Mechanics, either, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that one owns the other. Affiliation with the Mandalorians is a bit strange, though. We'll maintain comm silence, however."

Marek was Cathar and while the Mandalorians had committed genocide against her species thousands of years before, for many it was still seen as a reason not to trust the warrior culture. Their recent return to their Crusading roots didn't exactly help, either.

"Midoto, what's the status on the salvage operation?"

"Multiple guns are loaded and stored, but Ludypt stated earlier in an update that more were on the way."

"Patch me through to Ludypt, please, Mr. Midoto."

"Aye, Cap'n."

A moment or two passed before Zofia heard the familiar sounds of a commlink set too close to someone's face.

"<Yes, Captain?>" came Ludypt's voice, the quality only slightly muffled as the Sullustan breathed ever so faintly on her comm's mic.

"Ensign, how many more weapons are there to load?" the Cathar asked with a wry grin. "I know you're excited to take as many as we can, but we only have so much hull space to mount them."

"<Maybe a handful more,>" the engineer responded. "<At this point, the main holdup is sorting through the junk left inside the cargo bays. They left a lot of spare parts in this thing and we're most of the way done with sorting through it all.>"

"We don't need every spare bit and bauble from the ship, Ensign. Let's move things along."

"<Yes, Captain. I'll have them hurry it up, then. I also took the liberty of having one of my computer techs see if there was anything left on the bridge computers. Figure there might be some data on the guns and how they properly operate. Maybe something else just as useful. They just commed me before you to tell me they're heading back. I figure we should be out of here in maybe... half an hour.>"

"Understood, Ludypt. Thank you."

With that, Marek went back to watching the HUD. Things were wrapping up and, so far, not much in the way of interruptions.

[member="Lyth Meran"]

 

[Lyth Meran]

" Look i'll do my thing you do yours ok? "she commed as she entered a small salvage craft.
roghly 1 meter long

Spoiler

this was becoming unsettling. she had a bad feeling about this.
but she did her part to avoid hostility so as long as she kept to herself things should be fine.
the parts she wanted were specific. so that cut time.


[member="Zofia Marek"]