Private La Contrebande

[Marus Saretti]

The premise had been simple enough. Find out more information about a smuggling ring operating on Arkax Station. So far they hadn't seemed to dive too deep into anything particularly dangerous, there was no real record of any altercations or anything involving them, so it was the perfect mission for a Padawan to start getting his feet wet with independent training. Especially if that Padawan was no good spacer-scum himself, who could fit in perfectly—why, he might even know some of the smugglers!

Enter Marus Saretti.

Marus knew smugglers and their like particularly well. One of the things he knew was how easy it could be to scare them off. A random Jedi hops on board a passenger ship coming from Kashyyyk, everybody knows about it, information is transmitted to the station, their in-guy with the administration gets a look at it and tips them off, and—

Yeah. Exactly. No more smugglers.

So that option was right out. He didn't have a fake identity set-up, so he couldn't work with that either. No ship to call his own. And, of course, any ship he could request use of would be pretty clearly a Jedi Ship. No-doubt, this strange cult would frown upon him making a fake identity to get by. So, what was he to do? Simple. He just had to spontaneously exist upon the station. No record of arrival, no ship he was tied to, just somebody that was there. Somebody that was maybe even always there, as far as anybody else knew. That sort of thing wouldn't tip off the smugglers at all, if anything, it would just make him interesting, but not necessarily a run-and-hide threat. With the right questions he'd be talking to them and figuring out what was going on, easy.

And, just his luck, there was some Deep Core transport ship—from Empress Titty or Tata or some planet named like that—that had their return flight plan set to take them to Arkac Station as one of their next stops. Even better, they were picking up cargo while they were on Kashyyyk—primarily foodstuffs—that was all in boxes that Marus could manage to hide in, which was just what he did. Grease some palms at the spaceport, find the emptiest box, readjust its contents a little, shove himself in, and get the worker he bribed to shove him in with a jury-rigged quick release to get himself back out so he could find somewhere better, less cramped, to hide.

Now it was a few hours later. He'd been loaded up, jostled around far too much, thankfully they didn't load anything on top of him (how terrible would that be?), they blasted off into hyperspace, and after hearing some cleaning person route around for a bit, the noises had finally stopped. Nobody seemed to be nearby, the door had shut and cleaning person seemed to be gone. He popped the top, uncurled himself, stretched, looked around—

Oh.

It looked like cleaning guy must have just been taking a short break for a moment.

"Well. Looks like I might be in some deep mopak right about now."

Lief

 

[Lief]

When would this damned free-for-all end?​

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Though their jolly jaunt to Kashyyyk had been entirely his doing, having assisted a Jedi by the name of Starlin Rand in his attempts to return 'home', it didn't alter the fact that every time they should have been on their way to Gala again something new came up.​

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This time? This time Eliphas had been told to chart a route to Arkac Station. Arkac Station! He didn't even know where Arkac Station was before the day started, and now they were on their merry little way. No closer to Gala. No closer to finishing the Galaxy's longest fast-job. Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered quite so much if he wasn't kept busy nearly every hour of every day. He had brief shore leave whenever they hit a planet, of course, he'd marveled at the giant trees native to Kashyyyk, but once onboard the ship?​

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Well... if he wasn't on the Bridge, plotting courses and the like, he was on sanitation duty. And sanitation duty seemed never ending. He cleaned, he carried, he checked... Rinse and repeat. Fresh clothes for their benefactor, fresh clothes for the crew, waste disposal, clearing walkways, cleaning floors, on and on and on.​

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And now they even had him cleaning the damn cargo bay. Nobody even went to the cargo bay during transit, for the most part. What in the world even was there to clean? He felt certain that Captain Klein was trying to tire him out, keep him out of trouble. Maybe word had caught on about him sheepishly asking if Yara wanted to have lunch with him sometime. Maybe they were trying to keep the pair apart. He supposed he could understand as much, distractions weren't great on what ought to have been a well oiled machine.​

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But even so, cleaning the cargo bay?​

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So he'd taken a well earned rest, sitting atop one of the crates they'd picked up on Kashyyyk. With so many unplanned stops their initial batch of fresh food had been eaten through, and their benefactor did not stand for rations to be served to him. Eliphas' stomach growled slightly, it was still a little while from their next meal and the thought of fresh fruit which he knew could be found in some of the containers was driving him nutty.​

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Still, it was nice to breathe. Even if only for a moment.​

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And then that moment was ruined, with the sound of an opening crate. He turned immediately, reaching for the blaster he kept holstered on his hip, and found himself staring at a man a few years his senior. From the looks of it he wasn't supposed to be here. From the sounds of it he knew he'd just been caught.​

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Stowaways were not a welcome sight on any ship, but now that he was pointing a gun at the man he couldn't bring himself to even touch the trigger.​

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"Who are you?" he demanded instead, hoping to whatever entity might have been out there among the stars that he didn't try any funny business. Eliphas hadn't ever shot his blaster outside of training, "And what were you doing in that crate?"​

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Marus Saretti ​

 

[Marus Saretti]

Seeing the gun barrel pointed at him, Marus slowly raised his hands. "What was I doing in this crate?" he asked back, kicking at the inside of it with one foot. Not really any quick way out of this, and he definitely didn't want to hurt the kid, so he had to think fast. Dissemble. "Well, I've always been a fan of boxing. Figured I'd try it out for myself, but it was actually really uncomfortable. Bad for the back, and I can't imagine it was all that nice to the brain either." Hands still raised, he stepped outside of the crate, careful not to accidentally knock around any of the foodstuffs inside it.

It didn't take a genius to see that the kid was uncomfortable pointing his weapon like that. Finger wasn't even on the trigger—terrible choice if you were actually thinking you'd shoot someone. Barrel on target, finger on trigger. Barrel not on target, finger off trigger. Clearly, that could only mean that, at least at the moment, Marus wasn't really a valid target. Or just that the kid was a little young to be handed a gun and told to be prepared to shoot anybody that crawls out of a crate without permission. Still, he wasn't about to go reaching for his own blaster, trying to play quick-draw against somebody who already had drawn.

That was bad for continued longevity.

He might be able to talk his way out of this yet, though. "What's a kid like you doing with a uniform like that?" he asked, nodding down at the younger man's clothes. "Aren't there laws about a minimum age of enlistment? Sorry, chief, but I don't think you've passed muster in that respect." One quick glance around the rest of the cargo hold, nonchalant, just looking like he was getting his bearings, but really—

To make sure they were alone.

"Isn't this some noble's ship, anyways? What, are you some sort of PMC deal? Security officer? Really, kid, don't throw your life away this young. Another...three years, tops, and then you can start doing stuff like that. Might be better to go to college instead, though, y'know? Keep you from ending up like me, in the cargo hold of a ship with some starry-eyed kid pointing a gun at you." A small pause. Eyebrows raised inquisitively, a warm smile just barely on the edge of becoming a cocky smirk.

"Unless you'd like to holster that?"

Lief

 

[Lief]

Eliphas really didn't want to touch the trigger. And yet as the stranger began to step free from the crate he found his finger inching toward it all the same. The urge to take a step back transfixed his form, and it was all he could do to resist it. Instead he held his ground and kept the weapon trained on the man; despite his trigger reluctance, his hold of the weapon became rather calm and measured, it was steady as it pointed toward him.​

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He didn't interrupt as he gave the man a chance to explain himself, though he remained hyperfocused on every action that was taken in an attempt to avoid being suddenly overwhelmed. The distance between them wasn't really being pressed, the man had simply exited the crate, but at any moment he could leap toward him and take his weapon and Eliphas couldn't allow that. Not without a proper fight.​

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It took him a moment to realize that his first question had been utterly ignored, and the second? Well... That had been too. Instead questions had been shot back. Eliphas frowned.​

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"Answer me," he demanded, though his voice remained calm. Inside he was quaking, he'd never expected to be forced face to face with such danger and strife so soon into Guild life, but then again if he had it his way he never would have ever. His position on this ship was not one of security and strength... He was here to figure out their destination. That was all.​

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This? Being in the cargo bay right now? That was simply a means to keep him out of trouble.​

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"Who are you?" he asked again, "And why are you here?"​

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It was difficult to ignore some of what had been said though. Talks of his uniform and his age and wasted potential. He bit the inside of his lip to refrain from responding, from defending not just himself but his Captain and his Guildmaster and his parents. He wasn't sure just how long he could keep it up though.​

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Marus Saretti ​

 

[Marus Saretti]

Marus's smile diminished slightly. Evidently, the kid was better than he thought. "Alright, alright, not gonna be that easy to work with. That's a point in your favour." Of course, with a pistol being pointed at him and any identification he had being kept in his jacket, Marus couldn't really move to withdraw anything. Much like the idea of trying to play quick draw against somebody who'd already drawn, going and rummaging in your pockets with a blaster in your face was a terrible idea.

"So, uh...will you let me reach into my pockets, or will you just take me at my word that it's official Jedi business?" Dissembling hadn't worked, so switching to the truth seemed to be the prudent course of action to take. "Make this any more difficult and I might have to deputize you, though, and then we'll both be in the deep poodoo. Misery loves company, after all."

Lief

 

[Lief]

Another Jedi? So soon?​

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Surely that couldn't be right... They'd literally just got done depositing one of their Order on Kashyyyk. To encounter another just a stone's throw away felt... wrong. He eyed the man suspiciously, cogs whirring within his brain. They had just come from the heart of the Silver Jedi, was it too far flung to presume one of their own had boarded the ship? But why? Why wouldn't he simply pilot a vessel of his own, or have someone else do so without such nefarious means?​

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"Try anything funny, and I will shoot." he assured the man, before nodding at his request to find his identification. Already on edge, Eliphas monitored him as best as he could to ensure he wasn't about to pull a weapon of his own out. If it was a Jedi? Well, they had a duty to their Order regardless of Silver or GA allegiances. "What's a Jedi doing stowing on a Tetan vessel?"​

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Marus Saretti ​