Public Do Bad Well

[The Fool]

​

DEEP SPACE, NEUTRAL TERRITORIES BETWEEN SJO AND CIS
ABOARD THE UNDOUBTEDLY
THEME SONG

While politicians across the galaxy went into an uproar after the Confederates' recent executive order and addendum, shadier individuals and groups were far more opportunistic; seeing an opportunity of trade routes outside CIS space becoming less secure. The Baroness of Nowhere, for example, employed Captain Wynter Rackham 's Undoubtedly and Roman Hayato to intercept and commandeer the rare material goods of a large bulk heavy freighter "The Diligent" headed towards the Confederates space. The Baroness' goal was simple, acquire the goods and sell them through at a price lower than the import tariff markup via smuggling.

Rackham and Hayato were not alone.

The Baroness had not been that stupid. Instead, other opportunist individuals or groups had joined in to form this rag tag band of highwaymen as they awaited their prey to arrive from hyperspace for its standard course re-calibration.

And when "The Diligent" reverted into real space and The Undoubtedly's alarms lit to life, Roman was first to call "Fire those interdiction missiles you keep flaunting, Rackham!"

Ooc/

1. Wheaton's Law
2. No big fleets please. Please.
3. Wheaton's Law

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Taskforce Upsilon had just finished recalling their retinue from Eshan, a contingent of the Taskforce Vail Talon created and maintained after the Exclusion Zone was declared. After CIS First dissolved that Order and recalibrated resources to the Home Front, it was decided that the areas on the fringes between Silver Space, the Hutts, and the Confederacy were some of the least provisioned. That made sense, with the Jedi previously maintaining a great deal of the defense to the Southeast.

With those allegiances dissolved, it fell to the Defense Force to police borders themselves. Upsilon was on course now to rendezvous with the Sector Patrol to shore up numbers and allocate defenses, but that had not yet transpired. Instead, several frigates, a carrier, two squadrons of fighters, and a recently decommissioned medical ship sauntered westward, toward their destination.

Or they were intent to do so, before the alarm went up.

"What's the situation, Corporal?" asked Commandant Faulkner, the officer charged at the forefront of Upsilon on their homeward journey.

"Unidentified ship cruising toward Confederate Space. We're reading signs of Interdiction."

"Continue to monitor, but leave off unless they breech the border. We're not authorized to act out here, remember."

"Not like the good ol' days," the Corporal muttered under his breath.

"Good thing, too," Faulkner adjusted his cover. "We actually get to come home now."

The CNS Recovery remained at cruising speed, even as the situation continued to unfold not so far off.

The Fool

 

[|The Wayfarer|]

ABOARD THE UNDOUBTEDLY

Cisco hadn't ventured very far from his home planet before he found that there were many other just like him. Scoundrels and never do wells who had a penitent for trouble. They called themselves the Black Sun and while they mostly operated in the cities, they needed good pilots to make their discount trips. Cisco got to see as much of the galaxy as he wanted and he got paid to do it! Well recently he was thrown into a job that had something to do with minerals or some such.

He had no idea what the black sun wanted with a hefty pile of rocks, but the pay was good and they did technically threaten to shiv him if he karked up. It was posed as a hypothetical situation, but Cisco imagined it very much was not.

Regardless he was here now.

He lifted the brim of his hat above his eyes so that he might get a peak at what was going on. He had been sitting with his head inclined so as not to let the others peer into his honey pot irises. He was a wanted man by the Sith after all and Cisco had heard they could sense whether you were fearful just by looking in your eyes... Something to do with a magic they called the force. Cisco had yet to see it himself, but on his home planet every newborn was tested for this magic and taken away if it came up positive. It was how Cisco had lost his only child...

Since then he had become The Wayfarer and now he searched for something among the stars, but still hadn't a clue what he was even searching for...

He scanned the ships cramped cargo hold as he awaited for the rest of his compatriots to join him. The ship looked as though it had been specifically built with stealth and speed in mind. It was sleek and smooth. It had curves in all the right places and Cisco couldn't help, but marvel at it. He let out a low whistle then whispered to himself.

"Thicker than a bowl of oatmeal..."

He quickly snapped out of his stupor as the alarms came to life and strapped himself into a nearby chair.

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Desperados In Space: The Fool | |The Wayfarer|
Nothing To See Here, Mister Police: Alkor Centaris
Track Two

He never really considered himself a pirate.

Per se.

Oh, sure, sometimes you needed to negotiate violently, but that was just business. It felt different this time. Something in the pit of his stomach turning somersaults. This was the different shade of business. Wynter really hoped it would be droids on board. That would be better. Much better. Not that he would hesitate.

Far too much cash on the line.

"Surprised ya ain't tryin' to pull mah trigger, Hayato!" He shouted over the dull of the alarms, before flipping the buttons. There was a split-second delay here. Enough for the pilot of the freight to realize the danger. Wynter could almost feel it. Metaphorically, anyway. The shock of an unknown ship, igniting hot right in front of them. They'd wind up the engines again. Trying to slip away... but that is when the interdiction missiles escaped the chutes of the Undoubtedly.

Expensive trick.

Those missiles didn't come for cheap, but the Baroness had assured he'd be compensated.

In the void of space nobody could hear you scream. The same can be said about the hiss of the missiles. Nobody could hear the plasma bursting, as their trajectory was locked and they launched with high velocity.

Nothing more than three breaths passed before they exploded in the velocity of the freight.

That was it.

Even if they wanted to slide back into Hyperspace, it would be too late. Their nav systems only seeing mass-shadows all around itself. "Brace yourself," Wyn barked over the intercom. This way the Wayfarer would hear it too. Then the Undoubtedly groaned, its metal whining high-pitched. The Gs turning up as Wynter sharply turned the sleek ship, angling it to roll straight at its hangar bay section.

"Man the gunner, ya bucket head," That aimed to one of the droids whirring in the vicinity. It BEEP-BOOPED before storming off to follow commands. It hopefully wouldn't be necessary, but these freight runs sometimes had nasty surprises in tow.

 

[Maijan Paisea]

Deep Space // The Undoubtably //
The Fool // Wynter Rackham // |The Wayfarer|
// Alkor Centaris //​

It'd been a long time since Maijan had a contract of her own, outside of a sabac table making a few numbers look like other numbers and some suits look like other suits. This time she was the ace in the hole -- for if and when things went terribly and irrevocably wrong. The prospect of things going south was exciting, and the kind of cash she was looking for, otherwise she'd be paid significantly less. Sure ships had fancy cloaking devices, but when you were fully engaged there'd need to be something a little more..invisible required. That's where she flaunted.

The crew was a complete enigma to her. And a bit sausagey. And for the most part, she didn't have any tangible skills to aid the rest of them - so she sat idly in her crash webbing while orders were barked and missiles were fired. Her chest was tight with mild trepidation. No illusion could save her from being blown apart into fragments of a woman..that required a different kind of fold space she hadn't learned yet.

Already shooting..

She clutched the straps on either side of the webbing, feeling herself instinctively lean against the turn the captain pulled. Her bracelets clacked noisily while the ship maneuvered evasively.

Prudently, she closed her eyes and stretched her senses akin to the radar the captain was seeing. Mass that were not part of the Force peppered the space outside. The Force rippled around the oblong shapes, and she counted them off. One...two...three...

 

[The Fool]

DEEP SPACE, NEUTRAL TERRITORIES BETWEEN SJO AND CIS
ABOARD THE UNDOUBTEDLY
CREW: Wynter Rackham |The Wayfarer| Maijan Paisea
FIVE-O: Alkor Centaris
TRACK THREE

Roman didn't have enough time to ponder how the hell did a dirtbag looking nerf herder like Captain Rackham could have afforded this slick beauty. What the hell was Roman doing wrong in his life that he went for days on Rodian fast food only? No time for an answer, and he would probably never have it anyways.

Whether this beauty of a ship piloted on its own, or by Rackham's incredible capabilities, the Undoubtedly swerved left and right evading the defensive measures fired from the cargo ship. Good thing he hadn't eaten for the last few hours or the meal order would've come right back from where it had entered. With a loud, deafening thud the Undoubterdly reached its destination - one of the many airlocks of the cargo freighter.

Hayato snapped his belt off and paced down towards the airlock; grabbing on the way one of the helmets (he already wore the space armor/suit and his revolver, as always, was on him), then to the rest of the odd rag tag crew, "Sheriff, Lady Weirdo, time to make yourselves useful. You aren't taking no pay for doing fuck all." he grumbled as his loyal revolver materialized in his hand just as he reached the airlock. "Get your guns, it's pay day."

A few quick taps on the panel and the airlock slid open with a hiss. He plucked a slicer's tool from his jerkin, pushed it into the freighter's own lock and it groaned open. Rusty bucket for a freighter carrying such valuable goods; probably intentional - lay low from pirates' radars. Too bad there was a rat somewhere in the supply line living on fat bribes from the Baroness. The ex-commando veteran took one step inside the bulk freighter before he was sent back flying painfully into the Undoubtedly.

A scatter gun in the hands of a droid was an unforgiving weapon of destruction.

"Roger, roger." he heard the damn thing say as it pulled the trigger again at the rest of the rag tag goons making entry into his beloved ship.

 

[Cei Kyros]

THE DILIGENT
The Fool Wynter Rackham |The Wayfarer| Maijan Paisea
Alkor Centaris

"Come out to Port Nowhere, we'll get together, have a few laughs..."

Cei Kyros muttered to himself while prying off a buffer panel with a crowbar. When he'd agreed to owe the Baroness a favor he'd known she would find a creative form of repayment. After stowing away aboard a bulk freighter and crawling around its maintenance crawlspaces for several days to avoid routine droid patrols he vowed to be more careful about dealing with her in the future.

"Almost there..." the duros smuggler finally exposed a nest of system cabling, "Pure sabacc."

He glanced down at a few instructions scrawled on his hand.

Not a moment too soon. Kyros could feel the freighter's engines cut out and after a little while the distant clunking sound of an airlock hard seal. He grabbed hold of a nest of wires and yanked on them. The airlock's fire suppression system activated, drowning the scatter gun wielding sentry droid in coolant foam and temporarily blinding its photoreceptors.

 

[|The Wayfarer|]

Cisco felt the ship pull into evasive maneuvers, his stomach performed a somersault and he nearly lost his lunch. But, the gun slinger had been through worse. I mean have you ever tasted Coruscanti home brewed pale ale. Cisco had drank the stuff for years and it tasted like Wookiee piss, he had tested this analogy himself.

Years of drinking rot gut had turned his belly into led and that not an analogy for how many times he's been shot. The ship quickly ported to a airlock blind to the ships defenses and Cisco felt a violent quake as it landed. The vessels let out a hiss of hydraulic steam as the chamber pressurized and The Wayfarer unstrapped himself.

The others were already at the door and he didn't have much time to make acquaintances. He would've ignored them all anyways. At first thought he might've liked to go twenty toes with the woman, but the more he studied her, the more unsettling she became. It seemed she carried a powerful aura about her and usually when the gunslinger got these premonitions about someone he tended to avoid them...

Well he was stuck with them for now. He hadn't much more time to dwell on the matter for as soon as the doors hissed open the muscle on point went flying backward. Only Cisco quick reflexes kept him from being sacked by the burly pirate. The gunslinger ducked behind a durasteel beam and tried to get a bead on the droid. His head peeked from it's cover a fraction of an inch before another salvo was loosed. The Wayfarer smelled burned hair and quickly patted his face as he frantically ducked back beneath his cover.

"ROGER ROGE-" The droids zealous shouting as it entered a blood frenzied craze was cut short. A hissing sound could be heard and the smell of flame retardant was thick in the air. The firing had stopped which queued The Wayfarer in that this was his chance. He rolled out of his cover and landed on a knee.

Faster than light he brought his pistols to bare and fired blindly towards the droid. The super heated plasma filled the machine with a dozen holes and it stumbled backwards before falling in a heap of scrap to the ground. Cisco shoved his guns back into their holsters and stood from where he knelt. He turned round and offered up a hand to Roman.

"One hell of a hole you shoulda taken? You gon' be alright?" He asked in his backwoods basic.

 

[Maijan Paisea]

Deep Space // The Undoubtably –– The Diligent //
The Fool // Wynter Rackham // |The Wayfarer| // Cei Kyros
// Alkor Centaris //​

She unbuckled with an exaggerated eyeroll and obeyed the less than charming instruction. Shimmying into the jumpsuit that would preserve them during the transition from their ship to the other, the scruffy haired guy took the lead.

"No, wait!" Maijan started, sealing her helmet into the collar of the suit and reaching out to put some pause behind their steps. If they wanted to coordinate she could conceal their approach -- aah nope. That was shot down as soon as Roman was. Ugh.

The Duros acted next, covering the droid in a creamy foam to obscure it's vision. With it blinded, the poncho-wearing gun slinger sprung into action and vanquished the foe before checking in on the self proclaimed leader of their ragamuffin group.

"Good start." She muttered with a hot click of her tongue - motioning for someone to keep their eyes out in the corridor. "They're going to be looking for us now. If you all stay close to me, we can make sure we're not seen."

It was going to be somewhat tricky to map the corridor of The Diligent, given she'd never seen it before (outside of the holoprojectors during the briefing), but she was fairly good at making things up on the fly.

She stepped through the doorway, taking a temporary lead while The Wayferer concerned himself with Roman's well being.

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Desperados In Space: The Fool | |The Wayfarer| | Maijan Paisea | Cei Kyros
Nothing To See Here, Mister Police: Alkor Centaris
Track Three

This mission was full of surprises.

First Roman gets shot in the chest. Falls back. But before Wynter could react (in all honesty he would just have blinked and taken a step back) a new hero appeared on the scene. Cei Kyros. Swashbuckler, hat tipper and rogue extravagant. Just as gracious as always, with the way he managed to drop down and handle their droid problem all in one go.

Wayfarer was handling Roman's personal feelings, so that was good too.

"Next time mebbe take a peek, before blundering into the corridor, Hayato." Over his shoulder as he followed Maijan past the droid. "Lass, can ya do some of that magic of ya's? Hide our ship from view." Wynter wasn't really sure how all that Force chit worked. Paisea came well recommended though. Five stars on Underworld Weekly, so that was something. Either way though. The last thing they needed was for their exit point to get nuked, if everything turned sideways.

His droids might be able to handle it, but why take the risk?

The hallway past the droid was empty.

Too empty.

Either way, Wyn stuck close to the forcer as per her advice. Why pay someone if ya don't trust them to do their job, eh? The magic moment only came a second later. They were cautiously pushing forward. Turned a corner and BAM. A patrol of droids just standing there. Waiting for them no doubt, but that was the interesting thing.

They weren't firing on them.

It was like they didn't SEE them standing right in front of them.

He reached out, squeezing Miss Magic's shoulder. "Ya gettin' a bonus..." Wyn murmured in awe.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The apparent moral issue had swept through the crew. More than half of the men had just been stationed out of Eshan, patrolling foreign airspace to protect it. They had spent a majority of their time doing exactly what, right now, they were watching passively. If not for the gag order they'd been given, someone would have jumped in right away.

But they couldn't.

"I can't watch this chit, Commandant," the Corporal said as he turned from the controls to face the man. "Those pirates are actively crippling a ship and they're going to steal it's cargo. It's clearly bound for Confederate airspace. Shouldn't we do something?"

"Our orders are clear, Corporal," Faulkner replied evenly. The reality was, he didn't like it either. Seemingly overnight, their entire purpose for the past two years was wiped away. What had they done for all that time?

What was coming for them in the future?

"That cargo-"

"Isn't Confederate goods, so it would hit the tariffs anyway. Shrewd businessmen, these pirates, if they picked up on that and want to extort Confederate citizens." He shrugged. He wasn't an economist or a player in the Galactic market. He was a CDF Commandant from Taskforce Upsilon. "If they violate Confederate Space to do it, we're flagging them red and boarding. They can't possibly think we're just going to let them in after seeing this."

"Sir."

The entire crew had a bad taste in their mouth about the entire thing; but the fact stood. Confederates were already slowly being fed an incentive to buy Confederate. It was an attrition game, and the Confederacy had a strong hand.

The Commandant sighed. "If you happened to put out an anonymous distress signal, I might not see it happen..."

The Corporal looked up in disbelief. Faulkner had never been the type to allow vigilante action. Maybe he'd misjudged him.

"Uh, er, yeah..." He looked to the Comms officer. "Did you catch that?"

"On it," the man replied, and he flipped a few switches and pressed a few buttons.

The Fool | Wynter Rackham | The Wayfarer | Maijan Paisea | Cei Kyros

 

[The Fool]

Roman groaned, eyes squinted, as he observed the damage of the scatter gun. Save for the blurred vision occasionally and the crushing pain in his lungs, the armor had saved him but was completely useless going forward; had the droid fired another round he'd be bleeding like through a sieve. He cursed his recklessness but knew all too well that if for over thirty years of his life he couldn't have managed to drop that trait, it wasn't going away anytime soon.

The Wayfarer's hand offered a grip back to his feet and he reluctantly took it, "I am fine." he half-lied and looked ahead - the droid blasted to bits and drowned into coolant; pure overkill, bastard deserved it. Standing atop of it - Paisea with a face embodying a facepalm and Rackham with a shaking head. Roman picked himself up and along with The Wayfarer joined the pair and headed deeper into the ship.

They passed twisting corridors implying of a terrible internal design as they headed (hopefully) towards the bridge. A patrol of droids materialized from one corner and Hayato's pistol aimed home. A hard tug at his elbow stopped him; Rackham was shaking his head, again, and whispering made his point - they were invisible. Paisea hadn't scammed her way into the Underground Weekly. He watched as the patrol passed right besides them without even detecting their presence. The rag tag band of scum and villainy simply did not exist to their photoreceptors. As he overlooked them heading away, Roman noticed a blue head with red-eyes barely popping out from a shaft - was that Cei fethin' Kyros.

"Rackham." he growled silently at the captain of the Undoubtedly and shoved at his ribs, then pointed at the blue head. "Cei Kyros of the Idiot's Array - what is he doing here?"

"Kark it if I know, ya poky arse fether, but presumably he be send here by the same Twi'lek schutta like we." Wynter replied with a shrug.

"Pro--" he began but was cut off when a communication from the droid aboard The Undoubtedly reached their comlinks. Roman scowled, then, "Heard that? Droid's picked up an emergency call...but not from this ship." he paused pursing his lips. "We don't have much time."

Wynter Rackham |The Wayfarer| Maijan Paisea Cei Kyros Alkor Centaris

 

[|The Wayfarer|]

Cisco helped Roman to his feet than picked his way over the heap that had once been a droid. The woman spoke quietly so as not to alert more guards. Something about concealing them. He did as she bid and hustled close. He watched as the guards passed by them without even truly seeing them.

The Wayfarer marveled at the feat. The hairs upon his arm began to stand up at the sight and he suddenly became more aware of the woman. It was probably a stealth field generator, but what if it wasn't? Could she be a forcer? And if so where does her allegiance lie?

Suddenly beads of sweat began to form on the back of the gunslingers neck. He steeled his nerves for whatever may come next and reminded himself he had a task at hand...

He lowered his hat so that anyone would have to tilt their head to see his eyes. Best to be safe

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Starship: "The Vagabond" Heavy Cruiser.
Objective: Cautionary Patrol of Confederacy Borders.
Tags: The Fool | Wynter Rackham | Maijan Paisea | Alkor Centaris | |The Wayfarer| | Cei Kyros

​

The Galaxy was ever changing, and the recent changes made by the Confederacy of Independent Systems were not the first sign of this in the life of Caedyn Arenais; Up until very recently, he had been primarily based in the Outer Rim Territories, the Steward of the Enclave of Svivren and member of the Council of the Living Force. His ties there were still strong, however his responsibilities had seen him returning to full-time service on Kashyyyk under the Silver Jedi Order once more.

Soon thereafter, the Confederacy of Independent Systems had announced their intent to withdraw all military and political assets back into the fold, the assumption being that they were seeking to strengthen their borders and embolden their future pursuits of expansion and the ability to govern or safe-keep those under their protection.

In all truth, Caedyn Arenais was not close with many within the Confederacy, however his Girlfriend Asaraa Vaashe was and so that was why he volunteered for the assignment, a naval excursion for a lone vessel to head out across the outskirts of Confederacy territory in order to scout the activity and traffic moving in and out. From what he had expected, the Silver Assembly wished to determine whether or not the Confederacy were under strain or threat; Intelligence and further insight as to their personal relationship with the Order of the Silver Jedi, as well as the chance to do some further good for those whom had supported them in their previous long-term alliance.

​

The Starlanes receded as the Vagabond came out of light-speed, returning to real-space with the whine of the vessels systems returning to optimum levels. At the head of the Bridge, Caedyn Arenais stood watching from the observation platform, looking out over the hull of Heavy Assault Cruiser whilst the Senior Officers and supporting Crewmen all hustled about their stations.

"Situation report" Came the order from Captain Gene Whayeson, a question that her crew knew better than to ignore.

"Several vessels picked up on long range scanners, Captain" Ticia C'here replied firmly, the Cathar towering over the surveillance station, his response causing Caedyn to turn and glance back in their direction.

Caedyn wasn't the confident Naval Captain that his Father had been. This was the Vagabonds second official assignment and they had yet to see any actual combat before. She was a well armed vessel designed for single vessel patrols, yet that still didn't help him feel any more comfortable about the prospect of being in a battle where he held no direct control over the chances of surviving or otherwise perishing in a giant ball of gas, flames and molten alloy.

"Take us in Lieutenant" Captain Whayeson instructed, glancing ahead to meet the gaze of the Jedi Knight and offering a confident nod. "Henders, drop the cloak. If anyone's out there, I want them to know we're coming. See if they're not in a talking mood. I'd rather not scare anyone into a fight they don't want".

The vagabond's Stygium drive would soon be deactivated and the vessel coming out of stealth, thrusters soon kicking into full impulse as they made their approach towards the distant vessels in question.

 

[Victor Thrash]

Aboard the Diligent
YoHo Crew: |The Wayfarer| The Fool Wynter Rackham Maijan Paisea Cei Kyros
Pls Help Me: Caedyn Arenais Alkor Centaris

"Go legit," She'd said. "You'll earn better credits," she'd said.

"I'll be waiting," she'd said.

It was a small crew, mostly transient workers looking to make the most of a bad situation and he was their captain. And now they were under attack.

"This is the last time I let a karking Twi'lek crime boss sweet talk me," he growled as the helmsman tried to turn the hulking ship around, but the ship was dead in the water and they were already docked. If things got too hairy...The Avalon would be his getaway, and he'd get as much of the cargo as he could on board before he jumped ship. Galen stood from his chair and checked his blaster before sliding it back into its holster. "Hey, Helmsman,"

"My name is Larry," he'd said for probably the fiftieth time. Galen waved a hand dismissing him.

"Hey Larry," he said, drawing out the syllables, "Who are the biggest guys on the ship? Come on, we don't have all day." Larry pondered this for a moment and snapped his fingers.

"There's that Trandoshan that you yelled at for pokin' round yer ship and that Twon Ketee guy that just sits in the cargo bay all day." Galen smirked. He'd nearly forgot about that living cargo loader droid. The only problem was...

"We don't have any blasters do we?" They didn't. He'd checked after his "sweetheart" had picked the job for him. "Last time, I swear." He sighed. "Get the few droids we've got and those two to the cargo control bay. Tell them I'll meet them there." He checked his chrono and shrugged. He was off shift anyways, someone else would have to deal with the bridge but one thing was for sure, he wasn't letting them take his ship...In the cargo bay.

A shipwide com message was shouted over the loudspeaker. "Uh...Don't panic...But could uhh Fang and Sam head to the Cargo Control Bay? Captain Arterius uhhh needs you for somethin'"

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Desperados In Space: The Fool | |The Wayfarer| | Maijan Paisea | Cei Kyros
Cowboy Be- Arterius: Galen Arterius
Nothing To See Here, Mister Police: Alkor Centaris | Caedyn Arenais
Track Three point Five

Wynter blinked.

A distress call made sense.

They were literally hijacking this ship after all. What didn't make sense was a distress call coming from a different ship. Why wasn't the Diligent erupting into half a dozen distress calls by now? They were relatively close to the Confederacy borders. Oh, sure, Confederates First and all that, but they could at least TRY and see what happens, right?

He got suspicious.

Roman would recognize that facial expression. Might even expect what came next. "Change of plans- Roman, take Wayfarer- and Kyros if he wants to- to the bridge. Knock 'em down, see what the computers gotta say. Take whatcha can, nav data, distress logs, I wanna know the feth this ship is." It made no sense after all.

Unless this ship was trying to avoid too much attention on themselves.

Even from people that could save them.

"Magic Woman 'ere and I will see what cargo they haulin' in the meantime." And maybe the Duros, if he decided to tag along. After all he wasn't part of their crew. So it wasn't like he could give them orders anyway.

Just as they were about to split up another beep in their ears.

The droids back on the Undoubtedly had just spotted something else on the sensors. "Gorram Silver cruiser, folks, ya know what that means. We hurry the feth up and get outta here, before they start to feth things up for us." Unless anyone else had something to say, Wynter would get his arse into gear. This had turned from a milk run to complication after complication. Which was to be expected, really. Things never turned out the way ya wanted them to.

Not when infamous Crime Lords started suggestions ya shots.

 

[Cei Kyros]

THE DILIGENT
The Fool Wynter Rackham |The Wayfarer| Maijan Paisea Galen Arterius
Alkor Centaris Caedyn Arenais

"You got it hoss," Kyros bit back on his original reply.

His crimson eyes glinted dangerously at Captain Rackham. He was here to wriggle out of a death mark but would not forget the conscious choice to divert him from first dibs on the spoils. Then again this was a dangerous line of work. Accidents had been known to happen. He didn't wait for Hayato to catch up, only pausing to glance at the familiar face while checking the power pack on his heavy blaster.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," the duros offered him a rakish grin, "Shit just follows you around, don't it kid?"

He turned the corner and traded blaster flurries for several heartbeats with a small droid patrol before ducking back near Roman and another mercenary with Rackham's crew. Cei glanced over at the hired guns.

"I don't reckon you thought to bring any ion grenades?"

 

[Maijan Paisea]

Deep Space // The Diligent
The Fool // Cei Kyros // |The Wayfarer|
Alkor Centaris // Caedyn Arenais​

When the compliment came, Maijan accepted it with a nod. A knowing grin clicked at the edges of her dark lips, part of the gold inflection glistening in the ultraviolet of the ship's corridor. Then more orders came, and the situation broke in two.

That grin faded into something more somber and she flicked her assessing gaze over the trio was commanded by the captain to make things more aggressive. This heist was turning into hijack quickly -- even if it was just for informational purposes. Which increased the risk and made it all the more unlawful. Did they get a pay increase with risk? Unlikely.

Before they turned away, Ms. Magic made a suggestion with a shrug of her shoulders - the movement causing a slight undulation in their cover. "If you're taking out the commanding crew, we can time the ship to make a jump once we have the cargo. Maybe we can craft a message that things are fine or something, but throw people off the trail -- or leave less for the space police to investigate."

With only a brief salute as adieu, she skulked away with Wynter Rackham . "Y'know captain, If you wanted to go off somewhere alone, there could be better circumstances."

The corridors were unorthodox, but most ships were straightforward from getting around. The cargo bay was always down. And usually behind several blast doors. She wasn't sure who got the better job here --- because they'd probably have a lot of carrying to do.

 

[Kiff Brayde]

Alkor Centaris | Caedyn Arenais | The Fool | Cei Kyros | |The Wayfarer|
​

Since the proclamation of Confederacy First, Kiff had found himself with a lot less vacation time. Only a month he had been fighting against the Sith among the soldiers of the Silver Jedi Order, but now the High Marshal reckoned that instances like that would now be far and few in between. Most of his duties as of late had been overseeing the return and assimilation of Defense Force assets in Silver Jedi Order space. Although the Bassadro Sector Armada's immediate neighbors were the corporate authorities and the High Republic, Kiff had seen the opportunity to get around in a Star Destroyer as a welcome reprieve from all of the paperwork awaiting him on Fondor.

"High Marshal, we will be reverting to realspace shortly. Comm-scan indicates that Task Force Upsilon has already arrived at the rendezvous," one of the junior officers called from his seat. Kiff had been standing at the front of the bridge, watching as the blue swirls of hyperspace roared past the Phantom Blood. The ship that Kiff stood on was yet another one of the new Grievous-class Star Destroyers that had been pouring out to replace the aging Valiant line. The Bassadro Sector Armada's headquarters being on the same planet as the shipyards where the Star Destroyers were being produced, Kiff had had an unprecedented scoop of the new line of ship, and indeed the High Marshal had been working around the clock to ensure that the Bassadro Armada was getting its allotted shares of the new model.

"Reverting to realspace," came the call as the blue swirls transformed into a canopy of stars, the Phantom Blood jolting slightly as it deaccelerated to cruising speeds. Flanking either side of it were two more Star Destroyers of the same model. The crews running them were fresh, and Kiff had seen the rendezvous as an opportunity to familiarize each crewman with their ship. The trio of Star Destroyers now sat in space, with hull plating unscored by cannon-fire and painted insignia gleaming across the black canvass. Kiff's hands were behind his back as he surveyed the field before them, looking for any sign of the ships that they were supposed to be meeting up with. After a second, he realized that his field of view was blank. In confusion, he turned back to the comm-scan pit only to see the officers working frantically.

"Lieutenant, what is the matter? And where are the ships we are supposed to be meeting up with?" Kiff asked in a calm tone, noting the worried whispers that were being passed throughout the pit.

"Apologies, High Marshal," came a different voice, this time over in the navigation pit. "It's our first time working with a hyperdrive of this class -- we accidentally overshot the reversion point. We're astrogating now to correct our course," the chief navigator stammered, his brow full of sweat. In a battle scenario, and under a different commanding officer, an error like this would've been grounds for a demotion.

However, this was hardly more than a training exercise, and Kiff was not a typical commanding officer. "Save your apologies, Corporal. We're doing this now so accidents won't happen when it matters," Kiff replied. Then he turned back to comm-scan. "Get me a tightbeam to the lead ship of Task Force Upsilon and inform them of our situation. Order them power down their drives and wait until we have reached their proximity. Then we can do a bit of hand-shaking, the usual formalities, and be on our way," the High Marshal said as he looked around the bridge for a consensus. He was slightly miffed that the crew didn't seem to be paying any attention. Unfamiliarity with a ship was one thing, but disregard was something that even an officer as relaxed as Kiff didn't find acceptable. "Is there something else that's the matter?"

"High Marshal, scanners indicate that there are several vessels engaging on the vector between us and the Task Force. Shall we. . . hold course?" One of the comm-scan officers replied, snapping out of their little conversation back to attention.

"Bring us about. I want to see these 'several vessels," Kiff ordered, and immediately the Phantom Blood began to turn on an axis that was only really visible to those in charge of astrogation. Kiff turned back to the starfield, waiting as his view panned before he could finally see what his officers were talking about. Flashes of light burst into existence on an otherwise melancholy landscape of stars, and in the distance, Kiff could see several attack vessels -- unmarked -- harassing some sort of cargo-laden freighter. Kiff's first instinct was to accelerate to the attack, but then he remembered the mandate. Confederacy First meant that neutral space was not their jurisdiction.

But then again, Kiff couldn't give a feth about the mandate. Not when his ships would be crossing paths with these up-jumped pirates anyways. "Accelerate to attack speed," Kiff ordered, turning around to the navigational pits. "Prepare for engagement and broadcast transmission to all ships in the vicinity. That cargo vessel is under the protection of the Confederacy Defense Force, and any attempts to further harass it will be met with deadly force. Also, inform the Unbreakable and Golden Wind to stay back and observe. I don't want to put them through a combat situation just yet."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"What?" Commandant Faulkner looked toward the rest of the crew with an amused face. "I had my orders. We rendezvous with the CDF attaché, and we go home. Everything beyond that would breach the neutrality act. That said, I'm not a High Marshall in the Defense Force. I don't have the authority to make the call to protect civilian vessels."

"So, you were banking on Brayde being a decent human being? Hell of a gamble, Commandant."

"No, I was doing my job. Though, if he uses anything like lethal force, he's going to have to answer to Confederate High Command as to why he breached the neutrality clause above and beyond the call of duty- so, the most he can do-"

"It's a big dick waving move."

"Precisely." Faulkner reached into his coat pocket and produced a pack of sticks, raised it to his lips, and took one between his teeth. He raised his other hand to light it and took a deep draw of the sweet, sweet venom. "For now, we're going to abide by the wait order and continue based on High Marshall Brayde's orders. We're within Confederate Space, so it's just about time where we can kick up our feet and enjoy ourselves. Only one more length to run in this race."

The CNS Recovery and its small cadre of ships lay in wait as the Phantom Blood moved to engage.

"If I didn't know any better, I would think the High Marshall's actually intent on following through." The Corporal commented.

"He's a damn mad lad if he does it," Faulkner drawled. "I admire the stones on him, but there are a whole heaping mess of witnesses, foreign and domestic alike. He'll be standing in front of the Vicelord himself if he goes vigilante here."

"If the distressed ship seeks Confederate asylum, we might have the power to step in here. Beyond that..."

Kiff Brayde | Maijan Paisea | The Fool | Cei Kyros | |The Wayfarer| | Caedyn Arenais