In a Bad Way: Carratos en Fugue

[VanceCaydence]

In a Bad Way: Carratos en Fugue​

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Setting: City of Chofin​

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Points of Interest: City Spaceport, Chofin Tower, Caydence Naval Yards, Merchant Quarter, The Dutchman Cantina, Downtown Chofin, The Crow's Nest​

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Synopsis: Carratos. The world of many fortunes; should you have the means to take them. For better or for worse, this planet has lost the support of the Republic in recent years. In the wake of having a stable government, the local pirate lords decided to move in while the new regime was forming. Even after the establishment of the Carratos Defense Force, the pirates were well-rooted in their new home. The government quickly moved to establish an economy, attempting to get trade going to and from the world. Their dealings with the One Sith Empire were always fair so long as the convoys weren't interrupted by the pirate gangs. And so it was. For the next fifty years, the world spun on. And through matters of both fortune and circumstance, the Caydence Clan flourished. Athen, Nigel, and Caide founded Caydence Naval Yards, and continued to build upon their father's success before them. Over the next twenty years, their children would go on to be involved in the business as well. The eldest of Athen's children, Vance, is the current hangar master over the fighter wing of CNY. A competent mechanic and engineer, Vance often finds himself whiling away the hours on this project or that one. Little did he know, though, that the fates were shifting things around in such a way that his life was about to become much more interesting.

Enter Arrya Volan. Smuggler and former bounty hunter. The latter involves a story mired in tragedy. Which is part of the reason why Arrya is here. It involves a man, a night club, and a lot of shady dealings. Things that are all commonplace...when you're In a Bad Way...


How to Get Involved: This is an Open RP, meaning pretty much anyone can get involved if they so wish it. However, we ask that you PM the creator of this thread so we can figure out how your characters can best be involved in the story at large. We want to thank you in advance for being willing to work with us, as we are simply looking to make this experience one to remember and be proud of!

What NOT to Do: Please, do not come into this thread seeking to disrupt the story in place or cause the deaths of the characters involved. If this is your aim, we ask that you PM the people involved in the story, and see if they are willing to work with you. Otherwise, please refrain. Thank you.

 

[VanceCaydence]

*The acrid smell of the air that came from working around cutting torches and hydraulic fluids was finally beginning to dissipate after the long day's work had finally ended. Vance stood in the center of the hangar deck, looking around at the half- and mostly-finished projects that remained in their work bays. Fighters and small freighters, all taken apart, all needing just a little something more before they could be made complete. Even Vance's own pet project, the Barloz-class freighter - the Gravitas - resting at the back of the hangar bay, was still weeks away from completion. Once he was done with his survey of the current jobs, Vance began meandering back toward his ship. He had converted most of the vessel to a livable workspace. There were several cabins full of parts that he had collected for various reasons, and each of them had a particular piece or two that he had pulled from as the months and years had gone by. As Vance was continuing along, he was already making a mental checklist of what was next on the ship. His thoughts were interrupted, of course, by a call from the front of the hangar. It was one of his deck-hands, a male Sullustan by the name of Dopra Kirn. Yelling at the top of his lungs in his own native language. Well, at least, Vance assumed what the Sullustan had were considered "lungs"...he couldn't be sure.*

*The small xeno was shuffling along on his short legs, looking somewhat-comical by Vance's observation, when he picked up some of what Dopra was saying.*

"--sister! ...--Dirge is...--sister's in trouble!" *The words echoed poorly off the hangar walls.*

*And Vance had heard more than enough.*

*Vance waved him off as he turned toward the rear exit of the hangar and started into a run. He slowed his step when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. An autowrench, sitting in the collective pile of tools on someone's repulsor-cart. Grabbing up the tool, he darted quickly toward the exit. If Dopra was referring to either of his sisters, it would be Joanna. She was one of the best mechanics in his hangar. Also, somewhat-woefully-unprepared to deal with a sleemo like Dirge. And if Dirge was involved...well, suffice it to say that Vance was going to need that wrench. Joanna was his kid sister, one of the twins. Analise could handle herself well enough, being in the armed forces and all. Vance didn't really worry much about her. But Jo? That was a line best not crossed.*

*There was only one place that the crew went to after they clocked out from work. The Dutchman. A little swill-house about a block away from the naval yards. It also happened to be a place that one of the low-life scum from the crew of the Umbrage tended to frequent. A bald, uni-browed meat sack that went by the name of "Dirge". He was one of the only ones who was actually dumb enough to boldly make moves on Vance's sister. And go about it all the wrong way. He was certainly in for a rude awakening this time, as far as her brother was concerned. Picking up the pace, Vance was now making his way down the sidewalk. Several bystanders looked on, a few of them realizing who it was that bolted in their direction. Many of them were shouting after him "Vance! What's the hurry?" and "Oh, he's in for it this time!" Vance heard none of it. Only the sound of blood rushing by his ears as he ran, full-stride, toward his destination.*

*Within a few minutes, he was already standing at the doorway of The Dutchman. It was an aptly-themed cantina, in the shape of the legendary frigate that was once captained by a ruthless pirate that prowled through this system over seven hundred years ago. Even outside, he could hear the shouting going on within. Vance burst through the door, his eyes scanning for the direction that the loudest shouts were coming from. The entire bar grew silent as he heard the last few voices from the rear left of the cantina still ranting. As quick as he'd entered, he was already down the walkway, between the booths, and standing a few dozen feet from the area where three men were bowed-up behind Dirge, who had Joanna cornered next to the wall. The ones still shouting were a few of Vance's own tech crew, and Dirge, who was attempting to "talk some sense" into Vance's sister.*

*The anger welled within him, and he couldn't restrain his voice.*

"HEY!" *The deep, bass-ridden voice shouted out.* "What the kriff do you think you're doing?!?"

*The trio of men behind him turned around, Dirge did not. Snide remarks came from the three. Vance ignored them. He focused all of his fury on the bald freak behind them.*

"If I wanted to listen to Shooks yowling, I would have stayed outside." *Was Vance's only retort. Gripping the auto-wrench up next to the head of the tool, he lifted his left arm up, gesturing toward the lot of them.* "Shut your yipping jowls, and let that moron speak."

*The three men suddenly stopped, hearing Dirge's sudden outbreak of laughter behind them. The man was now turning toward the lot of them, using one massive hand to move one of them to the side. In his other arm, he held Joanna close to him. Her face held a frightened, yet disgusted expression. Vance knew right then, this wasn't going to end peacefully.*

"You've got some kucks on you, lad!" *Dirge continued to chortle through his words.* "And here, I thought the Caydence boys had all but lost their kriffing manhood to the hounds!"

"I'll give you one chance, Dirge," *His voice was much more vehement than before.* "to see the egregious error you're making. Beyond that, I'm just gonna crack your skull open with a karking wrench."

*The smile on Dirge's face faded into a scowl. Vance couldn't have cared less. He was beyond words at this point. Even as he saw the bald man's grip tighten on his sister's shoulder, Vance was already moving closer toward the group. The three thugs in front looked like they were going to step up. When they saw Vance's own mechanics sizing them up from the side, though, they hesitated.*

"You know I don't take kindly to threats, Caydence." *The hulk responded.*

*Vance was already shaking his head. He didn't see his words that way at all.*

"No, no, no." *He said, tongue-in-cheek, taking a few steps closer.* "I've 'threatened' you plenty of times, Dirge. Given you chance after chance..." *His eyes drifted to the barside, where the bartender and owner of the establishment resided, and he frowned.* "I'm sorry about this, Jonesy. You've had to put up with too much from this lout."

*The owner, visibly shaken, nervously waved his apology away. He didn't say anything beyond that, which led to Vance assuming he had a little leeway in that regard. He looked back to Dirge.*

"...But you've worn out your welcome with my family. I could've smoothed things over with your captain before, but, this?" *He nodded towards Joanna.* "With this little incident, your boss is gonna need to invest in some med-capsules."

"Cut the shavit, Caydence...if you were gonna do something, you'd have already done it." *One of the thugs, this time, shouted out.*

*Vance's gaze tilted toward the being responsible for the retort nonchalantly.* "Heh...haven't I, though?" *His eyes shot to Joanna.* "Jo? Knees."

*In the flash of a moment, everything changed. The surprise of his statement had Dirge loosen his grip on Vance's sister just enough that she shot out from his grasp, spinning around behind him and dropping down just behind his legs in a crouch. Vance flew the few feet away that he was to Dirge in less than a second, leaping up to get on the same level as his opponent. The man was in a stupor, and didn't react nearly fast enough as Vance drew back his left arm mid-jump, and with the slight extension of his hand (being the large, rotary head of the autowrench), plunged the metallic end directly into the brow of the giant male with all the mechanical force that his prosthetic arm would allow. His balance totally-offset, Dirge's head shot backward, blood flying from his broken nose and his body following the momentum of the strike. And with Joanna being where she was, hunched down behind him, his feet flew upward with gravity taking hold. The bald one plummeted to the ground, hitting the deck in the worst of ways. As he landed, Vance let the wrench's shaft slide down his hand until he was gripping it just near the end. With the extended reach, he didn't wait for the other three of Dirge's thugs to spring into action. Acting first, he windmilled his arm around with a flourish of the wrench vertically, and - coming in low - thrust the dense end of the weaponized tool directly into the crotch of the only other human male in the group. The one who made the last snarky comment to him, as it was. Down he went. Vance saw the other two try to spring into action, but just as they moved in toward him, his fellow mechanics were already set upon them with a shouting fury. Vance's gaze shot around, finding his sister in the madness, crouched down with one of Dirge's legs still on her back. The gargantuan male was out like a light. Vance grabbed the heel of his leg and tossed it off of Joanna, helping her to her feet. The flurry of activity going on next to them, three of the biggest grease-monkeys in Vance's stable going to town on the remaining two pirates, didn't stop her from yelling at her brother.*

"You didn't have to use me, did you?! Stang that sleemo's leg was heavy!" *Elbowing her brother lightly, she shot him a glare. Vance smiled at his little sister, letting a chuckle escape his mouth.*

"You mad at me, Jo-Jo?" *Hugging her, he gently pushed her forward toward the fray.* "Go ahead. That oughtta make up for it." *He gestured toward the other thugs, which were just about taken care of. Shouting after her as she moved to join the fight, Vance chimed in.* "Don't tell Pops I let you do this, you hear me?!"

*She stopped just long enough to give him a winning grin before setting herself upon one of the two. That smile was all the world to Vance.*

*The fight was over within a few minutes, and it only took several more before they had all of them tied up. It took a considerable amount of effort to haul Dirge's unconscious form to a chair; but it was satisfying nonetheless. Vance took a few moments to apologize again to Jonesy, offering to pay for the damages to the bar. The wizened old barkeep wouldn't have any of it, telling Vance to consider handling the thugs payment enough. They would be able to sleep off their stupidity in the drunk tank of the local precinct. Now that the whole thing was handled, the barkeep could finally call it in to the authorities and have this headache dealt with. Vance's involvement would be politely left out of the conversation that Jonesy would have with the police.*

*Just as the crew of Caydence Naval Yard's fighter wing was leaving, Dirge was starting to come to. He let out a long, muffled groan, which caused Vance to pause in the doorway of The Dutchman. Joanna urged him not to turn back, but he felt like an ultimatum was necessary. He walked over to the hulking male, bending down to look his unibrow-ridden face directly in the eyes. With the lightest of whispers, Vance gave his final words on this whole ordeal to the restrained Dirge. No one overheard him, but as Vance walked away, the look of fear on Dirge's face was certainly present. Joanna held a look of surprise on her face as Vance made his way back over.*

"What'd you say to him? He looks like he's about to piss himself!" *She wrapped her arm around her brother as they walked out of the cantina, the others already ahead of them.*

*Shrugging, Vance's only reply was simple.* "I just told him what'd happen to him once his captain found out he'd made trouble with our family again. And if I got a chance to be there, he'd get to see me smiling as they did it to him."

*The two of them laughed to each other as they continued back toward the hangar. Vance grinned, proud of himself for his restraint. The whole thing was just one more reason why messing with the Caydence Clan spelled out a certain amount of disaster. You couldn't expect to keep a crew running without a ship on Carratos. And CNY was the only shipyard around that would work with some of the less-savory characters such as the pirates that roamed the system. But Vance's father, Athen, was quite-clear when it came to their dealings. Never would they work with crews that dealt in slavery, only captains were allowed to make requests of the Yard, and their relations would be severely-jeopardized - if not terminated - if they or any of their men ever wronged their family in any way. Dirge had broken that cardinal rule, and that could mean the slow, arduous process that would lead to the eventual dismantling of his captain's entire crew was at hand. That was enough for any captain to reconsider having such a man in their crew - and they didn't allow people to just leave, either.*

*Still, Dirge had made his choice. And Vance had made his. No matter what happened from that point forward, he felt vindicated.*

 

[Ilmarien Wrax]

Location: The Dutchman Cantina
Objective: Obtain a Ship
Directly Engaging: N/A

Ah Carratos. It was a pirate infested, flea ridden planet, home to all sorts of skullduggery and unsavory fellows. Yet, one cannot deny, it had a certain charm to it. 'Say what you want about this place, ain't nothing quite like it back home. ' Wrax was here for one thing and one thing only, and he couldn't let himself get distracted. And distractions there were a plenty on Chofin, the main hub on Carratos. Ducking his head, the hood of his cloak pulled up tightly to avoid drawing attention to himself, he stepped into the Dutchman and surveyed his surroundings. Filled with many different people ranging from all walks of life, the whole cantina seemed to be abuzz.

He approached the barkeep and waved his hand in an attempt to get some attention. He glanced at the menu for a few seconds, before settling on a simple Alderaan beer, safe and familiar. He leaned back against the counter top, and when his drink came he sipped it idly and used this as a chance to further take a look around. After a few minutes, his eyes fell upon someone that looked like they could be of help to him. He was a old fellow, looked completely unremarkable, and rather lonely as well. He ordered another drink before approaching his table. He plopped himself down onto a seat, and slid the drink over to him. The old man eyed it for a second before shrugging his shoulders and taking a long drink, draining the cup in a few seconds. He looked up, half hoping for more.

"All in due time my friend, I was kind of hoping you could point a newcomer to the city like me in the right direction. Then, we'll see about another drink?" The old man pursed his lips, as if he should have expected that the only reason he was being approached was for something needed. He licked his lips before asking, "What'ya wanna know?" Wrax gathered his thoughts before saying, "I'm in the market for a ship? Know who I need to go and see I want one? Anyone trustworthy or popular around here?" The man grunted before responding, "You'll be lookin' for the Caydence Naval Yards then. Been around for a while, and trustworthy too. Can rely on 'em to keep their mouths shut when it comes to yir business, legal or otthawise if ya catchin' my drift. You'll be lookin' fir a fellow named Vance." It took a few seconds after the man finished for the thought to settle in, that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to be saying this to some stranger he had just met. Wrax sensed the man's uneasiness and raised his hand to assuage any doubts.

"Don't worry, just business, not looking to cause any trouble. You have any idea where I could find him, or what this fellow looks like?" A second passed before a strange smile flashed across the old man's face. "Why, just turn around. I believe who yir lookin' fir is standin right there." To Wrax's surprise, it seemed a whole scene had begun to develop behind his back while he'd been engrossed in his conversation. 'Bloody hell, got to pay better attention. How'd I miss all this?' Wrax quietly watched as everything began to unfold. He saw as threats were exchanged back and forth, and once he saw Dirge grab the girl Wrax's hand went to the blaster at his hip. It hovered there, as Wrax watched silent and unsure over whether or not to make his move. A second before he pulled his blaster out of its holster and stepped in, Vance sprung into action faster then Wrax could blink; and within minutes the whole thing was over.

As everything began to clean up, and people started to file out of the cantina after all the excitement; Wrax tossed the man some credits for the information and rushed out. He jogged down the block, looking for the man he'd seen in the cantina. As he turned the corner, he saw him with the girl who'd been the reason the whole thing had gotten started. He took a breath before jogging over and calling the two out, "Hey, you there. Vance I believe your name is? Great work back there, I was about to step in really but it seemed as if you and your crew had the situation more then under control without my help. I don't mean to alarm, but I've been told you run a Naval Shipyard's somewhere in the city? Just so happens, I'm in the market for a ship. Think we could talk?" Wrax offered him a smile before it dawned on him that he should probably give the man his name. "Oh, and I'm Wrax, Ilmarien Wrax. Pleased to meet ya."

[member="Vance Caydence"]

 

[VanceCaydence]

*"Hey, you there!" The words caused Vance to tense up. His adrenaline was still high following the confrontation, and being approached by someone so shortly after? Vance's grip tightened on the autowrench, still covered on the end in Dirge's dried blood. He heard his sister gasp, also, which put him directly on the defensive. Turning rapidly, he placed himself between his sister and the voice who called out to him. Noting that the individual was cloaked, he could very well have been someone from the crew of the Umbrage. "Vance, I believe your name is? Great work back there..." And with that, Vance relaxed a little. He still held the wrench firmly, but decided to let the man approach. Most of the Umbrage's crew members at least knew of who he and his family were, so this fellow approaching him cold was at least worth indulging his curiosity. During the man's explanation, Vance tried to discern the man's features. The cowl over his face didn't help matters, but he did see the warmth in his smile as he introduced himself. "Oh, and I'm Wrax. Ilmarien Wrax. Pleased to meet ya." Vance furrowed his brow for a moment, and then reached out to shake his hand.*

"Well, obviously, you already know who I am. In the market for a ship, you say?" *Vance released the man's hand, and looked back to his sister momentarily, giving her a nod and letting her know she could relax. Turning back to Wrax, he continued.* "Your information's a little off, though. My father's the owner of the Yards; I just work for him."

*His sister walked up, nudging him in the side.* "Don't be so modest." *She spoke for her brother.* "Vance just-so-happens to be the Hangar Master over the entire fighter wing. He can prolly set you up with a decent ship, if you've got the creds--"

*It was Vance's turn to step in, then.* "What my sister means to say is that we deal in a few ships here and there. If you're looking to purchase one, I can get in touch with my father and we can see what we've got available. I'll have the full list by, say...tomorrow, if you'd like to come by then. I'm sure you can understand, we've been through quite the ordeal today."

[member="Ilmarien Wrax"]

 

[Ilmarien Wrax]

Location: Chofin Streets
Objective: Obtain a Ship
Directly Engaging: N/A

As Vance spoke, Ilmarien couldn't help but watch the two siblings. They obviously shared a great bond, and it really showed through their relationship with each other. As someone who'd been an only child, and rather friendless for the early parts of his life, it was something he really liked to see. He also noticed that the two both seemed on edge. Vance's knuckles had nearly turned white as Ilmarien spoke, and he was obviously ready to use the thing at a moments notice. 'Yea, probably could have approached them under less suspicious circumstances now that I think about it. The hood doesn't help any either.' He cleared his throat and paused a second before lowering his hood, exposing his face and his alien physiology with it. 'I think that it would be probably be better if we conducted our business face to face. Besides, he doesn't seem like the type I need to watch out for, but then again you can never be sure with these humans. Don't seem to like anyone except for other humans.'

After considering Vance's offer, Ilmarien shrugged his shoulders and said,"Of course, that seems more then agreeable to me. Perhaps me approaching you two so soon after all that was a bit forward and out of place. It's natural that you'd want some rest. I'll find some place to hole up for the night and we'll speak tomorrow in the morning if that's fine. Just for consideration, I'm looking for something about the size of a small Corvette. It should be able to hold some supplies and house a few crew members. I'm sure you'll be able to dig up something that I'll find satisfactory. So if there isn't anything else...?"

Ilmarien extended his hand once more as a symbol of finalizing their deal.

[member="Vance Caydence"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Four Years...

Four long years she’d searched, collecting bounties, tracking down merchants, traders, assassins. At first, it was easy. Finding leads was fast, sometimes she’d track down several in a day. Then things began to go cold, a lead she’d followed to Coruscant didn’t pan out. Instead of finding an underworld trader, she found nothing but an empty warehouse. It looked like the person who’d been living there had left in a hurry, data equipment was simply destroyed, computers blown apart using a blaster.

She hit a dead end. For a few days she holed up in small hostel, before once again taking to the skies. She wandered around the inner rim, taking courier jobs and a few small smuggling runs in the Inner Rim, managing to keep herself fed and her ship functioning. She was using Coruscant as her base of operations, renting out a small tenement on a back street in the lower district. She kept her door sealed and rarely stayed long. Typically she would spend the nights in her ship, the “Atlas”, which she’d been keeping in a small port in a secluded bay not far from her rented space.

Arrya had arrived at the port hours ago, drunks and partyers still on the streets. She’d slept fairly uneasy for the past 7 months, the inability to find any leads slowly eating away at her. She felt like a ghost. She shifted slightly in her chair, the readouts on the control panel in front of her flickering to life. She looked around the cockpit for a moment, and then zeroed in on the control panel. A small electronic chime had sounded, indicating that a message had been received.


*A message? From who?*


Her fingers flew across the control panel, bringing up the message. It was text only, no audio, and by the garbled readout it was encrypted. Reaching over to another panel she rapidly input a complex sequence of numbers on a keypad, a small beep sounding on every number. With a whirr and another tone, the computer image cleared up, the text now displayed in Galactic Basic.

[ Djinn Krell. Carratos. Chofin. Crow’s Nest. ]

Arrya looked at the message again, what could that last part mean? She’d never been to Carratos before, but she knew the name. Chofin was one of the major cities, rumor had it there was a damn good shipyard there too. She looked back to the message. The sender was designated as T11217519199197. One of her contacts had dug up something it appeared. Arrya quickly input several other commands on the control panel in front of her. Reaching to her left, she removed a headset from where it was secured, placing it on her head. There was no time to waste, no telling how old the information was and she couldn’t afford to lose any time. She reached out in front of her, a flurry of movement as she flipped switches and pressed buttons.

A low hum could be heard reverberating through the ship as the systems came online, lights and panels blinking and flickering. After making a few more adjustments to the panel in front of her she made sure to buckle in, the harness tightening automatically. She leaned forward in her seat, pressing the button on a small panel near the bottom of the console. Above the “Atlas” a large circular access port began opening, the lights of the metropolis shining down onto the hull. As the sliding blast doors finished opening ship began to lift off of the ground, the landing gear retracting into the hull.

With Arrya’s hands on the controls, the “Atlas” rocketed from where it had been stowed away, leaving the small docking bay behind. Several ships veered out of the way as she recklessly headed straight for orbit. She knew the law enforcement in the sky lanes wouldn’t much be interested in tracking her, if they could even catch up. As she rose up into the upper atmosphere she began preparing her ship for light speed travel, inputting the destination and leaning back into her seat as the computer began computing the jump. As her ship broke free of the planet’s gravitational pull it changed direction, a brief pause before jumping into hyperspace. The trip would take a couple days, until she arrived she would have to prepare, she was going in blind.

Denn had taught her the virtue of being prepared, but since his death, those lessons went mostly forgotten. Thankfully her skill was able to account for what she didn’t do in planning but it was only a matter of time before it caught up to her. The message she’d received was unclear and she was unable to find any information in any of her files that pointed to anyone named Djinn. It looked like she was going to have to go out on a limb on this one. Her contact, T11217519199197, was a reliable one. He had ties to the Republic and had provided numerous tidbits of reliable information in the past, she hoped this was no different.

Over the next two days Arrya would spend every waking moment checking and re-checking her weapons, researching from her information database about the planet. Carratos had an interesting history, and it was just outside the border of One Sith space. She’d never personally had issues with The One Sith, although she’d dodged enough of their patrols during her smuggling runs. As she read more about Carratos, the more she began to feel a faint shimmer of hope. Over the last 7 months Arrya had felt lost, with no new leads it had felt as if she was drifting from one job to the next. Her soul was restless, unguided, wandering without a direction. The encoded transmission had changed that, started rekindled what was left of the fire inside and now it was a raging inferno.

The information she had paged through mentioned a shipyard, Caydence Naval Yards. It was listed as a decent sized naval yard, however there were larger ones near the Capitol. As she searched the information she did find a few interesting tidbits, notes from Denn, noting that it was a place where anonymity was the norm and the Caydence’s asked no more questions than absolutely necessary for their services. As she continued reading she also noted that it was no longer claimed by any faction, apparently the Republic had pulled out and no one had really staked a claim over the planet. According to her records it was self-governed, rare for the Inner Rim.

Arrya continued to browse the information in the database, using the travel time to prepare herself mentally and learn as much as she could. If her calculations were correct, she would be there towards evening of the following day. Until then, she spent her time going over information, the transmission burning itself into her mind.

[ Djinn Krell. Carratos. Chofin. Crow’s Nest. ]


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


A loud alarm woke Arrya from where she lay in her bunk, the sound blaring from the cockpit.

*Kriff*

She swung her feet over the edge of the bunk, dropping to the floor in her bare feet and rushing across the small room to the airlock leading to the cockpit. She nearly tripped over her boots on the way there. As she reached the cockpit she could see lights flashing and indicators blinking as the alarm continued to shriek. Hurriedly she slid into the pilot’s seat, eyes scanning the readouts. The engines were in an alarm state, it appeared they were overheating. In a flurry of movement Arrya switched off the alarms, the lights still blinking but the audible assault on her senses was now muted. She fought to get the ship back under control. The ship hadn’t fallen from hyperspace yet, but it was quickly headed that direction if she didn’t figure out what was wrong. As her eyes scanned the panels she saw where the failure was. The panel was indicating a circuit had blown in the engine room. The only way to stay in hyperspace would be to bypass the faulty circuit.

Frantically rushing back into the small corridor Arrya quickly opened the blast doors to the engine room, ducking inside. As soon as she entered she could see where the blown circuit had once been. A large scorch mark was painted onto the bulkhead near one of the port engine relays, exposed cables and electronics sending showers of sparks onto the deck. Quickly she reached into a small locker bolted to the floor and removed a worn pair of smudged coveralls. As she slipped into them she also snatched a pair of worn, insulated work gloves. Quickly she ran over to the sparking mass of cables, removing a hull panel next to the large scorch mark. Reaching quickly into the circuitry, she pushed aside a mass of patch cables and soldered cable terminations. She was able to get a hand on a power breaker, forcing the lever down. As she did so she felt a slight shudder in the ship’s hull, the sparking cables suddenly fizzling out. Carefully Arrya removed a large circuitry box from the bulkhead, letting it drop to the floor with a loud crash once it was clear of the opening. She reached back in with both hands this time, coupling both ends of the power cable which she’d temporarily shut off. With a quiet grunt she forced the lever back to the on position, the shuddering in the hull stopping as a crackle of electricity could be heard. The fried circuit had been bypassed. Wiping delicate beads of sweat from her brow, Arrya let loose a sigh of relief. Eyeing a nearby control panel she tapped a few times on the display. From what she could tell she’d been able to re-route the power past the bad circuit but her hyper-drive was taking a beating. At this rate she might even have to think about replacing it once she got to Carratos…


She removed the gloves from her hands and slid out of the coveralls, hanging them back up in the neglected locker. Latching the door shut she headed towards the cockpit once more, sealing the engine room as she exited. The blinking alarms had ceased, the control panel displaying a positive readout. Outside the cockpit Arrya could see that she was still in hyperspace. Dropping back into the pilot’s seat she brought up a couple of displays on the panel, checking the readouts. A slight grimace passed over her features as she finished reading the readouts. According to the ship’s internal sensors she’d have enough power to get to Carratos but after that… her hyper-drive was going to need some major repairs. She scowled. Now she’d have to shell out what remaining credits she had. Maybe she could find work there… it was Carratos. Settling back into her chair, she watched as the readout displayed the distance to travel getting smaller and smaller…

The “Atlas” had been in hyperspace for near two days, small cooldown stops included. The engines hadn’t given out yet and the hyper-drive was still cooking although it was well past its operating limits. Arrya had prepared, her boots strapped tightly, her DE-10 blasters resting comfortable in the leather holsters on her thighs. She wore a plain brown pair of cargo pants and a worn green leather jacket. Atop her head a headset, her lekku lightly bound with a thin leather strap each. She was seated in the pilot’s chair, a small chime sounding. As she glanced down at the readouts on the panel in front of her, she pressed a short sequence of buttons. She was now getting close enough that she needed to drop out of hyperspace.

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

Above the planet of Carratos a small flash of light could be seen, well out of orbit. As it drew closer to the planet it appeared to slow, preparing for entry into the atmosphere. The “Atlas” dropped briefly into orbit, hung there for several minutes and then proceeded to angle itself downward towards the planet surface. As it descended its trajectory changed, steering towards the city of Chofin. The engines roared, sucking up the oxygen in the air like a hungry sarlaac. As the ship shot over the landscape one of the engines began to emit a small trail of smoke. Carbon buildup on the hull was evident, it looked like the engines were being run a little hard. The ship sped onward, slowing down slightly as it reached the outskirts of Chofin. Several communications were exchanged and the MRX-BR headed in a new direction, headed towards the general hub. Other ships could be seen coming and going from the average sized port, most of the landing bays were open on the top, allowing ships of varying sizes to occupy them. The transaction had occurred seamlessly, the credits transferring electronically and coordinates to the medium sized bay being beamed to the “Atlas”.

The ship flew low over the city, dust kicking off some of the roofs nearer to the port as it roared past. Ascending quickly the ship flipped over with a flourish, leveling off and descending directly above the designated bay. As the ship began to land, its gear extended from the hull, a light metallic thud audible as the ship rested on its hydraulics. The engines promptly shut down, their humming tapering off as they began to cool.

A hydraulic whirr could be heard from beneath the ship as its ventral port snapped open. A ladder came shooting out of the port, a solid steel thunk could be heard as it hit the ground. From above shuffling could be heard and a pair of legs appeared from inside, feet descending on the rungs. The lithe form of a female Twi’lek made its way down the ladder, the brown cargo pants tucked into the leather boots she wore. Adorning her thighs were what appeared to be two DE-10 blasters, nestled comfortable in their holsters. Around her waist, a leather utility belt held several small pouches for various tools. A green tinted leather flight jacket covered her upper body but beneath it a comfortable brown cloth belly shirt covered her upper torso. A pair of goggles rested on her head, her twin lekku wrapped with thin leather straps. As she approached the bottom few rungs, she let go of the ladder, landing smoothly on her feet. Looking back up at the open ventral port, she reached to her belt, pressing a small button on small black box on her utility belt. The ladder shot straight up, another hydraulic hiss as it retracted into the hull, the port snapping shut behind it.

Arrya’s eyes scanned the small port she’d been assigned. It would do for now, there were some basic tools scattered about but she was sure there’d be a cost of use involved. Now that she’d landed she had a few options. The lead she’d been investigating came quickly to mind, but she knew her ship needed repair. If she dove into pursuing this lead without having an escape plan, it could end badly. Grudgingly she came to the conclusion that she would need to stop by the shipyard to secure some labor before proceeding. Removing a data pad from her jacket pocket, she pulled up the information she had on Caydence Naval Yards. Navigating through a few pages of data she set a course and took off. Her footsteps were quick, but it wasn’t a jog. She headed in towards the city on her way, avoiding a direct route, choosing a route that would lead her there… eventually. As she walked through the city of Chofin, her eyes wandered, taking in the sights of the city. It smelled like Coruscant, but a little rougher around the edges. As she made her way closer to the Naval Yards, she heard a commotion up ahead. Gruff voices could be heard followed by some scuffling. She jogged up to the edge of the street she was on, looking right around the corner.

Down the street, on the other side of the road was a hover transport with its rear doors open. From where she was standing she could see it was the local police corralling a hodgepodge of xeno’s and humans into the back of it. One of the men looked more bloodied than the others, he was practically being carried into the back of the shuttle by the other detainees. She overheard the officers talking as they closed the door behind them.


“Dirge’s really done it this time, eh?” One of the officers smirked.

The other officer made a noise, putting his stun baton back into the clip on his belt.

“You know they’ll have him out again, just like that. I don’t even know why we’re bothering to pick him up. I heard some rumors…” Replied his partner.


The voices cut out as the officers climbed into the transport, its engines cutting back on. It paused for a moment before shuttling away, headed deeper into the city. As it sped off, Arrya stepped out from where she had been standing, eyeing the entrance to The Dutchman. As much as she would have loved to get a drink, this didn’t exactly look like her kind of venue. She started heading down the street, the opposite direction the shuttle had gone, heading towards where she knew the naval yards would be. She did some investigating, poking around the exterior of the shipyards. She stayed to the shadows, giving the yards a once over. She didn’t see anything that threw any red flags in her mind, everything seemed to be run exceptionally well from what she could tell.

Pausing near the entrance to the facility she once again took out her data pad, leaning up against a nearby structure. She navigated to the booking page, eyeing the options. It appeared that Caydence Naval Yards required a deposit. She quickly filled out the appropriate forms, inputting that she would need to have her hyper-drive and engines inspected. She also specified that the circuitry could use some work. She left out the detailed bits as she couldn’t exactly be sure what some of the terms were, but she did put down a hefty deposit. Couldn’t hurt to play it safe. The credits transferred immediately, indicated by a short chirp from the data pad. According to the electronics record system, she’d successfully booked an early morning appointment, the last available for the day too.

Taking one more glance at the mass of the shipyards, she headed back to where the “Atlas” was docked. She would spend the night in her ship. As she slipped through the city on her way back, she observed as much as she could, mentally plotting the following days. Everything would depend on how long it took her to get the “Atlas” repaired, without a valid escape strategy, there could be no plan. She was anxious, hopefully the tech they sent out would find the repairs simple enough so that she could get started tracking down this… Djinn Krell. When she returned to the ship, she relaxed in her bunk, flipping a switch near her head. A small set of speakers began to sound as music filled the small quarters of her ship. Thoughts of the coming day filled her mind, the appointment with the shipyards in the morning and the mysterious tip she'd gotten from her contact. It would have to wait till tomorrow, worrying about all of that now would only interfere with her rest, and rest she would need if she trusted the feeling in the pit of her stomach. She began to drift off, the music doing well to clear her mind and drown out her thoughts...

[member="Ilmarien Wrax"] [member="Vance Caydence"]​

 

[VanceCaydence]

[member="Ilmarien Wrax"]

*The hood was lowered, and Vance's curiosity was then sated regarding the look of the man. Obviously a xeno, although that never bothered Vance. Still, he was friendly enough, and seemed to understand what the Caydences were talking about with regards to needing an evening to clear one's head. As he described the manner of ship he was looking for, Vance made a mental note to populate the list for him when he made it back to the hangar. For now, though, it looked as though their business was concluded. He shook the man's hand once more, and when he said "So, if there isn't anything else...?" made certain to give a polite shake of his head before flashing the disarming Caydence smile at the man.*

"No, sir...we shall see you tomorrow." *Ruffling his sister's hair - to which her reply was a mischievous grin and a playful shove - he turned back toward the opposite direction. Looking back over his shoulder, he called after the man.* "Be sure to glance over our business listing on the Holonet, if you get the chance! You'll need to complete the form for our very-light background check before we can finalize any sales."

*And with that, the pair pushed on towards the hangar.*

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

*It wasn't too much longer before they had made it back. Vance walked into his office area, Joanna following him in, and placed the large, still-bloody wrench on the front of his desk. His sister watched him as he headed over to his terminal, already going to work on devising the list for this Wrax character. He also forwarded a request to his HR department to submit the proper paperwork for the ancillary background check on his name. Assuming he wasn't going under a false identity, the group could proceed forward tomorrow with quite a few less hoops to jump through. Vance didn't mind anyone attempting to maintain a certain level of anonymity, he simply had to make certain he was doing the right sort of business with the right people for the sake of the family legacy. Notoriety, they could handle. A crew or individual who dealt in slavery or mass murder, they would not abide. As he finished up his request, he noticed a new notification in his Appointments list. Opening the file, he looked it over before backing away from the terminal with a bit of surprise in his features.*

"What is it?" *Joanna asked.*

"Looks like...you've been requested for an eval over at the spaceport." *He kept looking at the screen, seeing Joanna out of the corner of his eye nearly clearing the desk as she tried to make her way to him.* "Ooh...early-morning slot. Sucks to be you."

*Joanna's voice soon had a tinge of whinge to it.* "What?! Nooooo!" *She began tugging on her brother's shirt-tail, urging him.* "Can you please just pass me up in the rotation?"

*Vance chuckled, shrugging and raising his free hand in a look of mock-defeatism.* "I've already passed your name up twice...if I do so any more, I'll have a mutiny on my hands. You know this."

*Joanna stamped her feet in an overly-dramatic display. Vance knew she was only pretending. He only offered a wan smile toward her, patting her on the shoulder.*

"You'll be fine." *Giving her a hug, the elder brother placed a kiss atop her head before letting her go.* "On ya go, now. Get some rest; and make sure you put on some clean jumpers tomorrow. You're a Caydence, if you recall!"

*Joanna was already near the office entrance when she turned back to sigh heavily and audibly toward her brother.*

"A fact that you and Pops only remind me of daily! I'll be on my best behavior...promise."

*He had to smile at that one. Speaking only to himself, he muttered.* "That's what I'm afraid of..."

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

[member="Arrya Volan"]

*The following morning, and already, it was turning out to be quite the day. Vance was set to show out a few of the at- or near-completion vessels the shipyard had for sale, and Joanna was on her way to the spaceport to meet with the prospective client. She did as her brother asked, dressing in the clean mechanic's jumpers to make herself look more presentable. With her own flair, of course. The hot pink, flowery, long-sleeve undershirt that she sported was her own manner of "sticking it" to Vance. She carried with her a datapad, complete with capture device if she needed it. She was looking over the completed forms from the MRX-BR when she came upon the hangar where it rested. Just from observing the outside, she could already tell that it needed a full vent flush to get rid of the accumulation of carbon in the exhaust. It likely needed it from intake to exhaust, if she was looking at it correctly. The landing gear seemed serviceable enough. Well, until she rounded the aft of the vessel, at least...there seemed to be a dead mynock lodged firmly in the struts of the aft-right leg. Or, at least, she assumed it was a mynock. Doing her best to put the note of the mynock in her datapad and out of her mind, she saw that they hydraulics themselves were also caked with dried fluid. Meaning that the seals were suffering some degradation. Her brow furrowed as she made her way under the vessel, looking closer at the hull plating. There were several panels that had suffered deep levels of pitting. Taking her small depth-reader out, she used the hard-light system to determine that some of the deepest pits in the plating were more than three millimeters in. Meaning that the vessel was only a few short millimeters away from hull compromise. Her disbelief grew even more when she noted that one of the primary buffer panels had also been torn clean off the ship. Her own voice seemed to escape her when she finally said something out loud.*

"Oh, my dear giddy aunt..." *Her voice was shallow, as though she were actually worried.* "How'd this ship even survive the re-entry?"

 

[Progflaw99]

She was in a marketplace...

The busy market square was crowded with humans and xeno's alike, her quarry currently stopped at a small stall selling odds and ends. Voices of varying languages filled the air, the hubbub of merchants and buyers surrounding her. There were a few vibroblades on display as well. Arrya slipped through the bustling cloud, the brown leather coat she was wearing concealing a small holdout blaster tucked in a small under-the-arm holster. She approached from the man's left, about 5 meters between them. Pausing there she feigned interest in a small bauble from the jewelry stall she stood in front of, keeping the man in her peripheral vision. Across the market, her trained eyes caught a slight movement as another individual approached her quarry from the right.

As she looked up from the bauble she'd realized the man was starting to move off again. She laid down the item and continued to follow... A sense of dread filled her, the realization of where she was... what was going to happen set in. She fought it, clawing through the thin veil of her dreams, trying to get out. She opened her mouth wide and let loose a scream.

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

She awoke with a start, her heart beating quickly beneath her chest. Taking a deep breath she swung her feet over the edge of the bunk, her legs dangling just above the floor. She let the moment of vertigo pass as she rubbed the grogginess from her eyes. Raising her arms above her head and stretching, Arrya let a yawn escape. Figuring she'd better get up soon she slipped on her boots, making sure to buckle them and threw on her jacket, swiping the data pad up from where she'd let it sit on the floor. Pulling up the device's home screen she suddenly looked at the time.

*Oh great*

Her appointment was scheduled for five minutes ago. Hastily grabbing her gun-belt off the hook on the bulkhead. Slinging it over her shoulder, she quickly made her way to the ventral hatch, taking a brief moment to check the cameras. She noticed a woman outside, dutifully tapping away at a datapad. Huh, she looked kind of cute for a mechanic, that is to say Arrya hadn't thought the tech would be a woman, much less presentable. She thought about it for a moment and re-hung the blasters back on the hook inside the bunkroom, grabbing a small blade and slipping it into a pocket before entering a few commands into the wall panel. With a snap-hiss the hatch opened, a loud hydraulic concussion sounding as the ladder shot down towards the deck. With a metallic thud the ladder landed on the deck, sending a few stray sparks flying into the air. Arrya grimaced slightly as she shouted out of the port.

"Hey down there, I'll be right with ya!"

She swung her feet down, her boots catching a few rungs outside the hull. Lowering herself through the ventral hatch, she proceeded down the ladder. Almost to the bottom she let go of the ladder, landing nimbly on her feet. She stood slightly, the Twi'lek brushing the wrinkles out of her brown cloth cargo pants. She sheepishly smiled at the young woman with the datapad.

"Hi, I'm Arrya. You must be from Caydence Naval Yards?"

She leaned forward, extending her hand nimbly, offering a genuine smile as she did so. Arrya's blue skin contrasted with the greenish leather jacket she wore, the thin leather straps still wrapped around her lekku. She stood about 5' 9'', her lithe figure pretty common for Twi'leks. Her blue eyes eyed the woman in front of her seeing immediately that this woman was definitely the mechanic from the naval yards. Something about the way she carried herself, that and she could see the subtle hints that indicated this woman wasn't afraid of some hard work.

"Sorry I wasn't out here when you got here..."

Arrya glanced hesitantly at the hull of her ship, her eyes catching the carcass of what might have been a mynock caught in the landing strut. She sidestepped towards it, attempting to put herself between the woman and the strut. She hadn't really realized it till now but the "Atlas" was looking pretty rough on its exterior.

"I see you've probably already seen the exterior, I can show you where the real work needs to be done though if you're done out here."

She motioned towards the ladder leading up into the ship's ventral hatch. Arrya bit her lip slightly as she thought about how bad the engine room was, she hadn't realized in her haste just how bad the ship had been getting. She mentally kicked herself, looking back to the woman.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked, is there anything you need from me? Or do you have any questions?"

Arrya smiled again, realizing just how off it had thrown her that it was a woman who'd come out to take a look at her ship. She checked that off in her book of firsts, it's not that she'd never heard of it before, but it was primarily men that she'd dealt with; it almost made her feel like a little girl again.

[member="Vance Caydence"] [member="Ilmarien Wrax"]​

 

[Ilmarien Wrax]

Location:
Objective: Obtain a Ship
Directly Engaging: N/A

'A background check. Fun.' He sighed as he turned from the two, nodding his head to show that he'd heard Vance. He walked back towards the Cantina and he raised his hood once more as he rounded the corner. 'Can't be too sure. Looks like most people here are used to "Xeno's" but after what happened on Tanjay IV...' Raising his head once more, he saw that he was finally at the Dutchman. He stepped in and walked towards the tired barkeep. It appeared as if his old friend had gone with the crowd. Now there were only a few people in the Cantina. "'Scuse me. You know any place in town where newcomers could rest their head for a night or two?"

The barkeep grunted, and thought for a few seconds while polishing a glass before saying, "Well, I know not of anywhere specifically but if you head Downtown, your like to find somewhere you can spend the night." Wrax nodded, and mumbled a thank you before heading outside. 'Guess I got to go about this the old fashioned way.' After about an hour of walking, he finally found a spot that seemed to be acceptable. It was getting late and it didn't seem like he'd find anywhere better if he kept walking around like he'd been doing so he stepped inside. After a quick conversation and a swipe of his credit stick, he had his room which was supposed to be outfitted with a tablet so he could access the Holonet.

Kicking off his boots, Wrax unclasped his cloak and started to look for the tablet. He found it within a minute and relaxed onto the bed as he filled in the form. It was rather standard as Vance had promised and he inputted in the information quickly. 'Home planet, check. Intent, check. Parents, check. Occupation...I'll put entrepreneur.' Once done, he tossed the tablet aside, and headed for the shower. He took his time, and by the time he finished it was very late. He plopped back into his bed, not bothering to get underneath the covers. He'd be lucky to get an hour or two tonight, and he didn't feel like making the bed when he woke up. Minutes blended into hours and at around 4:30 he fell asleep.

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

His eyes opened, and he blinked groggily a few times. He swung himself out of bed, and stomped towards the sink. He splashed cold water in his face to wake himself up, and checked the time. '7:30. Guess it's time to go.' He quickly got back into his boots, checked to make sure he hadn't left anything he needed, and left. After about an hour and a half, Wrax stepped into the shipyards and looked around. He wandered around for a few minutes before asking a nearby mechanic where he could find the main office. He thanked the man and headed for the office. Once he got there he knocked a few times to announce his presence but there was no response.

He peered in and realized that no one was in there. Cursing under his breath and he turned and continued walking. Finally he saw Vance. He seemed to be looking over a few of the ships that were in the yard. Whether they were for sale or for something else Wrax did not know. Calling out to him, Vance raised his hand in greeting and headed over. "Hello. Hope I'm not too early, or too late. Guess it depends on your schedule. I filled out the form online, so now I suppose it's up to you to show me what you got."

[member="Arrya Volan"] [member="Vance Caydence"]

 

[VanceCaydence]

[member="Arrya Volan"]

*Joanna was in the midst of checking the forward ventral turret when she heard the door opening behind her. Fully-expecting to turn around and greet the owner of the vessel, she was a little surprised when the ladder shot down so rapidly due to hydraulic failure. Being an experienced mechanic, she managed to withhold the usual level of expletives that she would normally let fly after experiencing such surprise. It was only by a small margin though. As the Twi'lek slid down the railings, Joanna moved forward to meet her, and did her best to allow her to take the lead when referring to her ship. She shook Arrya's hand shortly after she had introduced herself, and continued to listen attentively as the woman moved on. Joanna hadn't yet had the chance to introduce herself, but, she figured the woman was either nervous or a loner, used to having one-sided conversations for the most part. So, she was willing to let her continue on until she composed herself. When it seemed as though she had reached that point, Joanna had already caught that she had mentioned something about where 'the real work' was...and if that was any further indication over what she had seen thus far, the Caydence girl knew -- they were in for some work.*

"Ah, yes. Miss...Volan, was it? I'm Joanna...Joanna Caydence. Firstly, just wanted to say thank you for contacting us regarding your vessel. She's one-of-a-kind, that's for sure." *Joanna smiled as she pulled the datapad closer to her.* "Uh...let's see...we've got quite a few things to discuss, but, it can wait until I've completed the interiors assessment, if you're ready?"

*She looked questioningly to Arrya, making sure she was on the same page with her.*

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

[member="Ilmarien Wrax"]

*Vance looked on at the datapad in front of him as he stood out in the midst of his hangar. He seemed intently-focused on it, even as Mr. Wrax approached from behind. However, what may have surprised Wrax - and even Vance, if he was being honest with himself - was the fact that he wasn't looking at a list of vessels. Moreover, his attention was sort of taken over by something else, as he seemed to be in a deep, one-sided conversation with himself. Or rather, upon further observation, Ilmarien may have noticed the earpiece that was situated in his left ear. His voice held the air of someone who was both interested and preoccupied. The comm call was...interesting, to say the least.*

"Well, yes..." *There was a short pause, and Vance flicked his finger nonchalantly across the datapad screen, advancing the slides.* "...Yes--no, the lavender-colored ones are fine." *A picture of said "lavender colored" banners occupied the screen, looking rather-royal in their presentation. Or, since it was the occasion, more along the lines of wedding material.* "...The cake? Uhmm...no! No, I haven't forgotten about the tasting. Yes, I'll be there tomorrow afternoon, as promised. ...I know we can't reschedule again. I--" *He waited a few more moments, catching Wrax at a glance off to his side. Offering a smile and his outreached hand, he did his best to greet the man while he was in the midst of his call. Suddenly, he held a look of surprise on his face as he realized he had gotten sidetracked.* "--No! You have my full attention. I've just--...I have a customer who's just arrived for his appointment. ...Yes. I'll--" *He waited another moment, allowing her to finish.* "--I'll be glad to talk to you about this later. I'm...yes, I love you too. Thank you for understanding. Good--...good bye."

*Tapping the earpiece, he let out a long sigh as he rolled his eyes a bit. Grinning a bit, he looked back at Ilmarien.*

"Mr. Wrax! Good to see you again this morning! Sorry about that. The future Mrs. Caydence on the phone, there." *Looking down at his datapad a bit confusedly, he tapped the screen a few times. Once he'd gotten it back to an acceptable place, he turned it back to face him.* "As you can see, these ships are what we have open at the moment, that are either at-completion, or near-completion. I've got every available listing from freighters to small corvettes, prices are listed to the right of them. The prices can be negotiated, but please try to understand that we have a bottom-line, and I will have to refuse certain offers outright due to other bids that may have been placed on these vessels by prior customers. So, before we go any further, do you have any questions you'd like to start out with?"

 

[Progflaw99]

[member="Vance Caydence"]

Arrya mentally kicked herself. She'd let herself ramble on a bit. She bit the inside of her cheek slightly as she let the girl speak. She raised an eyebrow as the girl introduced herself as Joanna Caydence. Interesting that they would send a family member to inspect prospective customer's ships. She pushed it to the back of her mind as the girl finished talking. Arrya let her eyes trace along the hull of the ship once more, noting that she would probably catch some flak for the exterior condition of the "Atlas". She motioned towards the ladder, taking a few steps in its direction.

"Yes, yes of course. Please, call me Arrya!" She cleared cleared her throat lightly before continuing. "Come on up, watch your head on the port there!" She pointed up at the ventral port. She reached up, grabbing a rung above her head and lightly swinging herself up onto the ladder, her nimble frame ascending quickly up into the ship. As she reached the top, she squatted next to the opening and stuck her hand out in case the woman wanted a hand up the ladder.

"If you don't mind me asking, your family owns the Naval Yards here in Chofin then?"

Arrya figured she could do some intelligence gathering, she hadn't forgotten the message that had spurred her to come to Chofin in the first place. If not, she could always ask around, she'd seen a few places that might have the information she was looking for on her foray into the city the previous evening. She waited for a response before continuing.

"Well, the interior is mostly serviceable, it's a little unconventional but it works well for... what I use it for. You can take a look at the living space, and the... other place here." She motioned towards the quarters to her left, and the holding cells to the right. To her rear was the cockpit.

"I'll warn you now though, the real work will be in here."

Arrya indicated the sealed blast door that would lead into the engineering bay.

"You might want to brace yourself, I had to do a little emergency repair on the way here..."

With that, Arrya waited for Joanna to finish inspecting the rest of the ship before inputting a few commands on the panel next to the blast door. With a loud swoosh, the blast door retracted, the engineering bay now visible. A few of the lights flickered and then snapped on, the rest were either out or still flickering. She grimaced inwardly as she began to realize just how bad it looked. She gave a half-hearted smile as she looked at Joanna.

"If you have any questions..." She trailed off, letting Joanna take stock of the room for herself.

 

[VanceCaydence]

[member="Arrya Volan"]

*Short, sweet, and to the point; this Arrya lady knew how to cut straight to business. Joanna could respect that. She followed the Twi'lek's lead as they both went up the ladder, taking care not to catch her hair or her jumper on the entry hatch. It, also, seemed like it wasn't opening all the way. Something else Joanna would need to note in her assessment. As the two of them stood amid-deck, the red-headed mechanic caught the question about her being a Caydence.*

"Oh...yes. My father, and his brothers. We're sorta heirs to the business. Dad believes in each of us doing our part, though. So, my brother - Vance - runs a hangar specifically tailoring to everything from freighter-class on down. I'm technically working for him. Me an' Vance were the ones who took to fixin' things, so my father's got his eyes on us to run the Yards on the mechanic's end."

*She then allowed Arrya to continue with the tour, showing her the cockpit area and the other rooms adjoining to the airlock area. The mechanic was a little taken aback when she noticed the rooms on the port side. Were those...holding cells? Then that would have meant this woman was either in law enforcement or, perhaps a bounty hunter? Joanna became rather tight-lipped as she slipped back into the ventral access area. Her eyes were, again, drawn upward to look at the lighting as she entered. Something about the intermittent way that they were flickering suggested a power draw issue coming from somewhere in the ship. She tapped in a few notes to her datapad as she made her way across the airlock to what (she hoped) were the living quarters. As she stepped into the first area, she was semi-relieved to see that this wasn't the torture room. Although, if clothes were a life form, their wrinkled corpses would have been strewn all over the floors and bunk areas. Joanna supposed that there wasn't a whole lot of time to make it to the laundromat when you were a spacer. Or maybe the laundry appliances on this boat weren't functioning. Either way, it was none of Joanna's business until the client requested that those items be replaced.*

*As she looked around the room, she noticed one of the wall panels had a small gap around one side. She found a numeric pad with a worn-out set of numbers, four more than the others. She decided to "test" the pad's efficiency, depressing the numbers in a random order. Much to her surprise, after she had pressed the fourth key, the panel retracted into the wall, sliding over to reveal a hidden arsenal. Joanna's eyes widened as she depressed the longer button on the base of the pad, causing the door to slide back into place. Her suspicions had been confirmed somewhat; the person in the other room was, indeed, involved in some form of enforcement. It wasn't the slave trade - their background check would have flagged something about that by now. Regardless, she was being called back towards the other room, and to that place, she hurried.*

*Arrya was just describing the fact that the "real work" would be in the room she was motioning toward. When the blast doors opened, Joanna couldn't be sure what she was looking at. From all accounts, this was supposed to be where the engine room was. Even as the lights flickered - and Joanna was once again drawn toward the manner in which they blinked - she had trouble making heads or tails of where an actual "engine" existed. Arrya had told her that she should brace herself. Joanna doubted that she could have done enough to truly prepare her mind for that room. Panels had been removed from the walls, the ceiling. Conduit had been removed, cables were free-hanging from one side of the room to the other. She saw several hookups where they truly shouldn't be, and several more that were questionable. All in all, Joanna had seen worse; but not since her early days as a student at the local technical college. And that was for one of her final examinations. When she took a few steps inside the room, ducking a few of the cables here and there, she began trying to piece together the words to say.*

"Ok...so...I'm not gonna lie to you. This...this is bad." *She motioned to one of the two primary ion drives; specifically the places where the panels had been removed to do some cable patchwork.* "I...don't think those are supposed to come loose at all, unless you're in some pretty dire straits." *She kept turning in circles, trying to figure out where to start on her datapad notes.* "Luckily, the Xabers have multiple redundancies built into their systems. Otherwise, there's a good chance we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

*She tried to gain her bearings as she began inputting what she could find into her datapad. Multiple cautionary flags were lighting up her display as she continued inputting, but these problems had to be noted. She couldn't - in good conscience - let any of this go by the wayside.*

"I, uh...I'll need to take a look at your cockpit area. Run some diagnostics for a moment or two. I feel compelled to inform you, because I believe you should know, these repairs won't be an overnight thing. We're looking at a couple of weeks - at least - to take care of the engine room." *She considered for a moment, and then continued.* "We can probably see about getting you a worthwhile loaner if you have immediate business offworld, but, your baby's gonna need a lot of attention over the next long while."

 

[Progflaw99]

Arrya waited in the airlock while Joanna headed towards the port side of the ship. She recalled quickly that she hadn't exactly hidden or disguised the cells in that section, too late now. She did remember a note that Denn had left in the ship's database about CNY's best attempts at anonymity, hopefully he was correct. As the woman moved from the port side to the starboard side, Arrya thought she might have been able to detect a hint of uncertainty in her steps. She gave her a slight smile as she headed into the quarters section.

"Sorry about the mess in there, I haven't had much time to clean up lately."

She stood there, waiting for her to finish up her assessment. While she was standing there, she pulled out her knife, tumbling it back and forth between her fingers. As she was doing so, she thought she heard a soft click come from her quarters and raised an eyebrow. Shortly thereafter, Joanna bustled back into the entryway. Arrya tucked the knife back into her pocket, opening the blast doors to the engine bay. As the doors opened, she grimaced. She once again, hadn't realized how awful it looked in there. She'd been meaning to clean up a bit, at least get the lighting replaced, but she wasn't a maintenance tech or an engineer, she didn't even know where to start. As Joanna looked into the engine room, she could see the surprise painted on her face, and it wasn't the expression you made when someone surprised you with a birthday cake or a present after you'd thought they'd forgotten. This was almost akin to a look of terror and disbelief. Arrya frowned.

As Joanna spoke, Arrya tried her best to listen. She understood the bit about the ion drives, and she looked at the panels the mechanic was referring to. She recalled the run in she'd had with a small crew of Rodian pirates about 10 months back, they'd left her nearly crippled, or at least that's what they'd thought before trying to board her ship. She had the last laugh as they approached however when she'd managed to patch a circuit on her ion drives which had allowed her to escape. She hadn't thought about the engines much since, except the circuit she'd bypassed on the way to Carratos.

"Well... truth be told, I did run into a pretty unsavory bunch of Rodains about ten months back."

She smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, by all means, the cockpit is in much better condition, I promise."

Arrya motioned for Joanna to lead the way, the cockpit doors already opened. She'd cringed inwardly as Joanna had revealed that the work would probably take a few weeks. She guessed she deserved that, she'd been pretty bad (And that was putting it lightly) about keeping the ship maintained. She forced a smile as she thought about her options. On the one hand, having an escape method was always a part of her strategy. On the other hand, she did have business on Carratos... She could probably forego the loaner and bring it up again later if she really needed to get off world.

"I actually think I'll be alright without a loaner... I appreciate the offer though, I don't mind sticking around for a while. I could use a scenery change from Coruscant anyway."

She shrugged.

"Anyway, if you have any questions about the control panel or anything, let me know. I don't know how many of these things you see around here on a regular basis." she said, referring to the "Atlas".

Arrya followed Joanna as she headed into the cockpit, letting her take the pilot's seat where most of the important readouts would be, choosing instead to relax in the co-pilot's seat as she observed the woman. She seemed quite knowledgeable when it came to mechanical issues and it impressed her that someone took so many notes, it seemed almost like she actually cared for her work. Arrya had seen and dealt with plenty of mechanics in the past that didn't care about their work. She assumed some of that was why her outer hull looked so bad. True, she hadn't maintained it, but it couldn't have all been her fault, could it have? She shook her head slightly, resting her head on her hand as she watched the girl work.

"So, do you like it then? Mechanics I mean? Have you had any other interests other than taking up the family business?"

She paused, waiting for the girls response. She assumed she sort of had to, although she guessed that the gal would likely pursue a career in the mechanics field anyway since it was her family's business after-all. She got a crazy thought.

"Say, what do you do for fun around here anyway? I saw the "Dutchman" on a stroll through town yesterday, but it seems a little bit more "Hole-in-the-wall" than I'd prefer to be caught."

Arrya hoped to be able to get a little more information, now that it appeared she'd be on planet for a while. Maybe Joanna knew something about this "Crow's Nest". She bit her lip slightly. She almost felt bad, fishing for information but she had to find out more, it was the only way she'd ever be able to get past this..

[member="Vance Caydence"] | [member="Ilmarien Wrax"]​

 

[VanceCaydence]

*Seeing as Joanna was a fairly-seasoned mechanic, she seemed to flow right along with Arrya; walking from the engine room back up toward the cockpit almost side-by-side with her. It was just a normal act, considering the amount of times she had performed such an assessment with many other clients. Well, that, and she really didn't want to trip any other secret panels that would show off any further indications of Arrya's "lifestyle". As they entered the cockpit, she noticed Arrya moving toward the co-pilot's seat. Nodding to herself, she moved forward, grabbing the overhead bar next to the chair and ambling herself into the seat. She immediately noticed that the life-support systems were all on, and must have been for some time. They were reading in the low-to-nominal range, an indication that they were under continuous use. Had Arrya stayed in the ship overnight? Not uncommon, considering one's familiarity (or lack thereof) with Carratos. Either way, the readouts allowed the mechanic to confirm a few things about the power draw.*

*After that, it was a manner of process-of-elimination-meets-diagnostics. She had to find out specifically where the huge power draw was coming from that was offsetting even the lights. It would go switch-by-switch. Each time that Joanna would go through the startup sequence and see a readout she wasn't particularly pleased with, she would note it down on her datapad. The notes were few, at first, but anytime that she came close to an engine sequencer, those notations were compounded. Joanna had figured this much was possible. Although, there were several other indicators that she was noticing as well. Likely from the large amount of carbon buildup. There must have been a dozen things all evening each other out. If the carbon buildup wasn't there, then the engines would have likely burned out a long time ago. But if the engines were in perfect working order, that carbon buildup would have literally turned the ship into an oven. The hyperdrive was also barely held together, but if it was pulling the kind of draw necessary to maintain a fully-working drive, the ship's conduit would have likely fused itself together by now.*

*Joanna's concentration was broken for a moment when she heard Arrya asking her a question. She stopped fiddling with the switchboard just long enough to make a few notations and answer her.*

"Oh, me? Well, ah...'interests' are a pretty broad subject for me." *Smiling, she continued, not really missing a beat with the control panels.* "You, ah...tend to get a little bored when it comes to a place like Carratos. I like to get off-world, most times. Take the ships up for their final flight checks and what-not. I'm not the best pilot or anythin', but, I'm a sure-shot better than my brother. Vance hates flyin'. Loves ships, can't pilot 'em worth a kriff." *She realized her language, and immediately apologized.* "Oh, I...I'm sorry! You're pretty easy to talk to, is all."

*She then trailed off, getting back into her groove with the startup sequence. It wasn't a few moments longer before she had gotten down to the last switches that would engage the ion drives. Her fingers on the switches, Joanna heard the other question from Arrya.*

"Ugh...the 'Dutchman'..." *She rolled her eyes.* "Y'know Vance had to pull me outta there just last night? Thanks to some sleemo nicknamed 'Dirge' by his pirate buddies. That prick had been tryin' to run me down an' make me his 'little woman' for the past three years." *She then remembered the actual question.* "Oh...well, the 'Dutchman' is more of a local haunt that we all go to once we clock out. Grab a beer, simmer down. It certainly ain't the 'Crow's Nest' or anything. Now that's a club! Ran by a guy named Aedon, over at Montrose Tower. He's...Zeltron, I think. Vance knows him all right."

*Flipping the last two switches, Joanna engaged the ion drives. Immediately, she heard the sound she was loathing to hear. It always reminded her of someone dropping a rock on a flat metal plate. When all of the magnets in an ion drive initialize, there was this one moment of synchronicity that occured. Usually, if the drives did it correctly, she'd only hear a hum and then the engine spooling up. That 'slamming' noise was due to the magnets reversing polarity for a split second, clashing into each other before switching back and creating the ionization field. It meant quite a few things needed to be replaced in the drives themselves, namely the field brackets that would keep such a sound from occurring.*

"Shavit!" *The mechanic whispered.* "I'd really hoped it wouldn't be that..."

[member="Arrya Volan"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Arrya watched Joanna, trying her best to discern what she was looking for exactly as she switched controls and pressed buttons. As far as she could tell, it looked like a regular pre-flight check, although it looked like it was much more in depth than she'd ever seen. She smiled as the mechanic spoke of her love for flying, even for final checks. She'd always loved something about flying ships. There was something about staring into the vastness of space, in the quiet, the cold... She narrowed her eyes as she quickly came back to reality, she hadn't even realized that she'd started to drift off. She smiled at the woman's modesty.

"Oh, don't you worry. I've heard and traded profanities with the best of them." She blushed slightly.

She was glad she seemed to be easy to talk to for her, for a moment a memory of a young Arrya was recalled, a friend aboard the yacht she grew up on... and then it was gone.

"I did see a few rather rough looking fellows getting pulled out of there last night, they didn't look too happy. Your brother must have beat them up pretty good, they weren't resisting the security that showed up."

As the woman mentioned "The Crow's Nest" her eyes lit up. This is what she was looking for. A brief pang of guilt filled her, but she listened intently. She knew the woman was nearing the end of her checks when she started playing with the engine controls. As she did so, she became painfully aware of the loud clunking they made before initializing. She winced outwardly as the woman cursed, whispering under her breath. She knew that couldn't be good.

"Uh... Sorry about that. Tell you what, I know you've had to witness things you'd probably rather just as soon forgotten today. The work is going to be pretty extensive... What if I bought you and the others who'll be doing the work a drink down at say... "The Crow's Nest" ? We'll just consider it an additional payment for the maintenance work. I really do appreciate you taking your time, and I appreciate how thorough you are. You might be surprised to know, most mechanics around the galaxy cut corners. Anyway, I can tell that you're not, and it's refreshing."

She took a breath, smiling at the woman again.

"Tell your brother, and anyone else you two set to work on the "Atlas" here that I'll buy you all a round of drinks at "The Crow's Nest" and I won't take no for an answer!"

She shyly awaited the woman's response. She wasn't sure how much checking she still had to do, or what the process from here on out was, but she knew she was interested in finding this "Crow's Nest" and it wasn't purely for entertainment.

*Djinn Krell. Carratos. Chofin. Crow’s Nest.*

...

[member="Vance Caydence"] | [member="Ilmarien Wrax"]​

 

[VanceCaydence]

*Although the idea of "going out" was considerably more-pleasing to the mind than dealing with Dirge and his ilk for another millisecond, Joanna had to remember that she was representing her family name and business at the moment. It was a matter of professionalism. So, no matter what, she had to be a Caydence first, and a rebellious tomboy second. Smiling gracefully, she pushed her hair back behind her ear for a moment and shook her head as politely as possible.*

"As much as I would like to accept your request," *she noted with a hint of remorse in her voice* "I couldn't accept such an offer outright. That'd mean I speak for the business, and I - quite frankly - can't do that. However...once I'm off the clock, my time is my own! So, I'd be willing to show you around sometime."

*She looked down at her notes again, wrapping up her assessment and forwarding it to her brother back at the hangar.*

"Now then...I've compiled what I have and sent the info back to Vance. He'll be getting a bay ready for us, if he hasn't already. If you wouldn't mind, I'll just get the ship ready, and we can depart for the Yards. Sound good?" *She waited for the affirmation, and then moved to strap herself in to the pilot's chair.* "All right then. Let's see how this baby handles!"

*Taking a moment to go over the displays once again, she activated the manual flight controls, and took to the yoke in front of her. Within moments, the ship was engaging its repulsorlifts and the engines were spooling up to allow for gradual lift. After a bit of effort and Joanna having to compensate for lack of proper lift, the ship took to the skies, bound for Caydence Naval yards.*

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

*Vance allowed Wrax to continue looking over the lists for a moment when he heard the audible "ping" from his datapad. Apologizing for the inconvenience, he turned the device back toward himself to figure out what it was for. Joanna had forwarded the assessment report to him. It was thorough, as always; and quite extensive from the looks of it. Apparently, their new client had one of the older model Xabers from Sydon Works' "Pacifier" product line. Vance respected the design. Built with multiple redundancies in the engine and electrical work, some very well-crafted hull plating; the vessels were difficult to push to the breaking point and hardly required anything beyond conventional maintenance. This particular model, however, seemed to have missed a few key checkpoints. And that was putting it lightly. As Vance skimmed over the red-flagged items, he was sure to keep his guest in mind.*

"Again, I apologize for the interruption." *Looking a little further down the bay, he waved over one of his more reliable techs, sending the list to his 'pad before continuing.* "Mazen, this is Mr. Wrax. He's here looking into purchasing one of our ships. If you could, bring him by the main office and have him speak with our purchasing department." *As the Chalactan nodded in the affirmative, he turned back to Ilmarien.* "Mr. Wrax, you'll have to forgive me. I've got another appointment en route that needs my attention. Mazen is one of our best all-around techs here in the Yards, though; and I'm certain he'll be able to answer any menial questions or concerns you may have on the way to our offices. Once you've gotten everything lined out there, I'm sure we'll be speaking again. Have a good morning."

*He gave a light bow and shook the xeno's hand before continuing down the hangar bay. Having looked over the vessel's schematics, he reserved Bay 11 for the Xaber. It was designed for the broader, longer fighters much like the K- and Y-Wing series, and thus would be suitable for the "Atlas'" needs. It wouldn't be much longer before Vance could overhear the ship's engines roaring overhead, and already, the other mechanics were starting to gather around the dorsal bay doors, which were opening up to allow the Xaber access to the work area below. They were attempting to ferret out the problems they heard in the ship's drives.*

"Sounds like a thermal coupler."

"Thermal couple--your aural nodes workin'?! It's the ion capacitors, fer sure!"

"Exhaust. Well, that and the secondary grav booster."

*Vance let them banter on for a moment longer, grinning at the insults they flung at each other occasionally. The ship was already touching down, and he would wait for the howl of the lifts to die down before chiming in.*

"It's the drives. All of 'em. Too much draw on them. Couple that with the carbon buildup, secondary and tertiary grav boosters being down, and a whole slew of other issues? It's a wonder this thing's still able to fly."

*The ventral access on the ship opened up, and the ladder slammed down on the deck as it had before. Vance winced a little as he watched the sparks fly, and shook his head as he saw his sister debark by sliding down the ladder in her usual fashion. Her sheepish grin was accompanied by her mouthing the words "Sorry!" She waited there for Arrya to follow suit, and then approached her brother, who was now standing before them.*

"Vance? This is Miss Volan." *Turning back to the Twi'lek, she moved to introduce her brother.* "Miss Volan? This is Vance Caydence, my brother."

*It was a moment in time, but, Vance did seem to take note of the fact that this particular Twi'lek was - like most of her species - not unattractive in the least. Remembering his place, however, the son of Athen Caydence returned to being the professional Hangar Master that he was. The elder brother extended his hand toward the Twi'lek.* "Miss Volan, it's a pleasure to meet you."

[member="Arrya Volan"] | [member="Ilmarien Wrax"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Arrya nodded as Joanna politely replied. It was a plan then! Off the clock, she'd be able to do some information digging/gathering. Until then, she'd be busy wrapping up business. She doubted they'd really appreciate her living out of her ship while it was in dock for repairs, that would have to be rectified. From what Arrya had read in her ship's database, that shouldn't be difficult. With the preliminary checks done, Arrya followed suit and buckled herself into the co-pilot's seat. Nervously Arrya watched the woman manipulating the controls, she certainly knew her ships.

As the ship lifted off she felt a slight shudder and then they were off.


-----


As the ship touched down, Arrya sighed in relief. During her trip to Carratos she at least had the benefit of being blissfully ignorant of the condition of her ship, now that she'd been walked through it thoroughly she understood just how ragged it had become. Unbuckling herself from the co-pilot's chair she adjusted the blasters strapped to her thighs. It was one downside to having them strapped there, sometimes they could get pretty uncomfortable. She might have to do something about that later. She let Joanna lead, this time she expected the sharp rapport of the hydraulic ladder but it still caused her to wince. This had been a long time coming. Nimbly she hopped onto the ladder, the short heels on her boots catching on the rungs as she lowered herself out of the ship and down to the deck of the hangar. Adjusting her lekku slightly she followed, extending her arm, firmly shaking the man's hand.

"Nice to meet you too, heard nothing but good things from your sister here!"

She released the man's hand and took a step back. She stuck her thumb up, pointing it back towards her ship.

"Sorry for the work load, I'm sure you've been brought up to speed but... It's a little rough in there. Oh, and uh, I hate to ask, but do know of any places I could put up for a while, till the repairs are done? I've been staying in my ship but given the circumstances, I doubt that's optimal."

She hadn't originally planned on staying long, just long enough to figure out what information she could, no doubt it would lead elsewhere but she could worry about that later. For now it seemed she was mostly stuck in the area anyway. Besides, this Vance character wasn't exactly unattractive, and it could be helpful to know someone who owned a shipyards. That was one of her flaws, Arrya seemed to view the world in a way that turned people into assets, emotions into calculations. Part of it was her rough childhood, the other... fear? Even she didn't understand it, but it was just the way things were. For now.

[member="Vance Caydence"]​

 

[VanceCaydence]

*Vance chuckled a little at the notion that it was "a little rough" -- that might have been the understatement of the year. However, he remained utterly-professional as he looked up and over the exterior of the ship. Taking care to guide them as he walked his slow, deliberate pace beneath the fuselage of the vessel, he began pointing to a few of the problem areas on the ventral portion of the ship.*

"To be sure, Miss Volan, your vessel has certainly seen better days. Several cracked and scored sections of hull plating, clogged exhaust ports due to the superb level of carbon buildup, and - as I'm sure you're aware - your ventral access port is suffering a catastrophic hydraulic failure. Also, I'm fairly-certain your ship is missing its entire port-side primary buffer panel on the fore. Re-entry must have been a bit of a shaky process. But, we're going to do our best to make sure she sees those days again - so, no worries."

*He considered her question regarding places to stay, and after folding his arms a moment, gave a knowing glance. Raising one hand to his chin, he tapped it with one finger before using the same to point back and over his shoulder at - what one could assume - was the general direction of some place he knew.*

"I think that Gentry's Inn would be a safe bet. They've got reasonable accommodations, with an old-world flair that usually puts off-worlders at ease. I tend to send a lot of business in their direction, so the owner will likely set you up with a discount if you tell him your reason for being here."

*Vance thought for a moment, and added* "Which, I should tell you -- you're looking at one to two weeks of repairs, at best. I would almost recommend replacing one of the drives in its entirety; although, we could attempt to repair it nonetheless. It will take us some time to crunch the numbers and give you a reasonable estimate, so, if you need to go and secure your lodgings, we could shoot you a comm once we have an idea."

*Joanna was the one to chime in this time.* "If you're okay with it, Vance, I'll make sure she gets where she needs to go. That sound all right by you, Miss Arrya?"

[member="Arrya Volan"]​

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Agh, Carratos, a hive of scum and villainy, also a place a man can make a small fortune with just a wink and a smile. Tydus was returning from a meeting with local police officials and a government leader, of course not publicly. The government were interested in purchasing most of his stock of Police Droids he acquired recently. Nearly left him washed him out of his supply, and that was a good thing, he could sell the warehouse and move on. On top of that deal, just last week he sold a stockpile of blaster and power cells to the local pirates who were paying top price for bulk product. Good thing he was the only person who could get large quantities of weapons over the border quickly or he would have lost both contracts.

Tydus so enjoys being a Freelanced Dealer, didn't have to deal with all these things as sides. Now yes, he did sell to both sides, but that didn't make him a bad guy, it made him a fair trade. It wouldn't be fair if he gave an advantage to one side without evening the table. That's why he gave a slight discount to the government people, gosh.

Now he was on his way to find a person named ,[member="Vance Caydence"]. Word on the street was he was a stand up guy who build ships for a living, or maybe he sold them. He didn't care really, the stuff he was interested in was that the man was interested in Unknown Region Space Lanes. After his last job he just got a tone of info of the Unknow Region, Wild Space, and the Fringe Territories. This guys was the first one on his list to sell the info to.

He walked into the hanger bay, and saw Mr Caydence speaking with some Twi'lek, a very attractive one at that. Some men are just too lucky, too bad I'm working. He thought to himself. He would wait till they finished their conversation before he would speak with Mr Caydence.

 

[Progflaw99]

Arrya had listened to the man, running through all the information in her mind. It was a lot to process and her mind had been running on one track as of late. Two weeks. She bit the inside of her cheek. That was two weeks to get as much information as she could and prepare to follow the bread-crumb trail wherever it led. It was longer than she would have liked but she recognized the reason. She'd been reckless in getting here in the first place, surrendering to the overwhelming obsession which had seized her. She was eager to get settled then, she'd have to retrieve a few of her 'tools' before proceeding but once she got those, she'd be ready to track down the lead she'd gotten.

As Vance mentioned Gentry's, she nodded. He seemed genuine enough. She'd gotten pretty good at feigning a smile, now was no exception. As the young woman offered to show her the way, she spoke.

"I think that would be perfect! I have a few things I need before we go. Also, I should probably mention..."

She looked from the woman, back to Vance, and then back at Joanna.

"I'm famished!"

She smiled, nodding at Vance as she made her way back towards her ship's ladder. Once inside she'd gather a few essential things, changes of clothes, an extra pair of boots and a few objects from the secret compartment the mechanic had stumbled upon, all fitting into a rather average duffel bag and backpack.

[member="Tydus Wryeens"] | [member="Vance Caydence"]​