Public Laekia Homecoming

[Chloe Blake]

"A pleasure," Chloe returned the smile to Kyra Perl with a whimsical one of her own. Turning to Coren Starchaser , she tipped her head back, listening to his proposal. Her mind ran the mental star chart to determine the time and distance to Trian. She had the Aurora Hawk, and that wouldn't be too difficult of a run.

"That shouldn't be an issue. I need help bringing the rest of these supplies out of Aurora's cargo hold, and then we should have enough space for what you need for transport. I got the extra cabin space for Kyra, should she like it. Would be nice to have some company again." It had been a while since Choli or Trextan spent time with the Warden, with the former out on Yanibar for training with the Zeison Sha and the latter getting his bearings out in the galaxy.

From her left, she heard Trextan say hello and then mention his father. Now, that was news. Color Chloe surprised by the revelation of Trextan using the word 'dad' concerning his father. She'd have to relay it to Choli later. It was good to see the young man come to his own and grow. There was still a bit of the chip on his shoulder, but not so much broodiness.

"That is if you'd like to come along." She told Kyra, letting her make her decision. Sure, Coren made the proposal, but if Kyra wasn't up to it, then it wouldn't do anyone any good. " Got plenty of food, drink, and good conversation. Maybe a stop to Yum Bunnies at the station before heading out."

A glance at Trextan Voidstalker , "You are more than welcome to leave the 'Verre here and take up your old cabin as well, Trextan."

 

[Kyra Perl]

"What are the rings of rapture?" Trextan asked quietly.

"Creepy-ass things," she mouthed back, half watching her father's head as he chatted. Was he getting a bald spot? She blinked as she was addressed, then perked at the mention of yummy bunnies. "Oh. I can do that," she agreed, hardly hearing the rest. Enthused or not, Kyra still needed the work. The pleasant lady with food was a bonus, as was the concept of a frie-

"Was Trextan not already with you?" She cut in. Something about that struck her odd.







...Was her father having her watched?

 

[Nicholas Volk]

Lavorn – Capital City – Port District – Hangar 33B


"So, empty roads, a three moon system, a crown hanging in the wind, a cranky lady, and going hungry?"

"That is the gist," Nicholas replied, pausing to bite onto a screwdriver handle and free his hand. He was settled on a wheeled mechanic's recliner, beneath a partially raised four-wheel chassis mounted with an additional fourteen-thousand kilograms of additional armour and armature. He kicked a heel against the floor and rolled upward, grasped a cordless torch-lamp and shined it over a section of carbon-and-grit scored plating, plating now just partially upheld over a centralized dual-engine well.

"My friend," Said the other voice. "You were ripped off! Two deci-creds for a that, pssht!"

"Uh-huh..." Nicholas murmured through a mouthful of polymer. He pushed up on an elbow and forced the torch-lamp up into the dark of the engine-well. Knots of dungy oil-crud and spackle grime caught and stained his knuckle. "Ah, no..."

"What? What? I don't like the sound of that."

The torch-lamp rocked and drummed a quick note-beat that echoed dully and hollowly from within the ancient ground-car. Nicholas tucked back onto the recliner and pulled himself out from under the chassis by the rubber of his boot heels. Bright shop lights and the blue of a perfect Laekian afternoon made his eyes wink and wince against an influx of brightness. He righted himself, sitting on rump and haunches, handing the torch-lamp over to his compatriot.

"Someone's been at the engines," Nicholas explained, loosing an exhale. "The armouring beneath is all cut away, peeled back in some places like we saw. I was hopeful it'd just be refurbishing but there's an entire engine gone and the second? All that's left is the block itself and a piece of the coolant pump."

"Fuck..." Stroga grunted, standing and running dirty hands up over his brow and shaved pate.

Stroga of Arnax, like Nicholas Volk, had grown from orphanhood to join the Levant's auxiliary ranger corps. He was bearish in demeanour, tall at the shoulder, weighted with a physical bulk at once belying to look at yet nearly impossibly strong for a base-line human. Grey-eyed, wearing a constant curtain of whisker bristles and an almost bare skull, Stroga sported similar Ranger fatigues with Nicholas, augmented with further harness webs and weight-loops, favouring a meaty .50 revolver that managed to look almost small in its thigh-holster. He bent over his belt and grasped Nicholas by the shoulder, hauling him up from the hangar flooring. "So, what can we do? We cannot just 'scrap it', we hauled it six systems from - - "

"Missing is not 'irreplaceable'," Said Nicholas, patting grit and carbon dust from his shoulders. He offered a small smile and tapped Stroga across the bicep with a friendly fist. "We're short on light-armoured patrollers, the body work is more or less intact, what's missing can be retrofitted, and what's more -"

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Starchasers were pilots and explorers. Even the rare and elusive Perlchaser was a decent pilot and probably Instinctive Astrogator. Coren never did ask, but he was hopeful. He could teach her, so could Kaia or Jared. Or Chloe. Maybe even Trextan. Still, the Jedi Master was hopeful that his daughter would be fine.

Another nod to Trextan, and Coren smiled. Jacen was a good friend and trusted ally. Maybe he would do well out here in the Tingel Arm, in the Wild Space. Not much for wars out here but still, they would need people, especially if pirates ever did sneak up and do something silly. Like attack a Fallanassi secret conclave.

"If you speak to him soon, give him my best." He wasn't going to ask Trextan to do his errand running and trying to drag Jacen out here. Coren could do that.

A stare over at Kyra. "Not too creepy. Just old. Hyperspace… thing." Coren nodded. Clearly it was simple. "If you have time you could always go check it out." He shrugged. Coren liked seeing the galaxy, including the Galaxy Biggest Ball of Space Yarn.

"There you go, Kyra, better than cleaning up the landing zone!"

Chloe Blake Kyra Perl Trextan Voidstalker

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

Smiling in the rare easy way of a man who has seen Hell and spat in the Devil's face, he plopped down a handful of currency. More than asked, but not as if he were trying to be an ingratiating git that wished to buy a good fortune.

"Tell me what you see friend... I'm on a trip and curious where the road leads..."

Velok coughed Malachor ash and turned from the departing Nicholas Volk to Sedaire. The coins disappeared. Velok flicked a gigantic three-clawed hand: more ash puffed up. As with Volk, Sedaire had the chance and choice to breathe it in, or not, as he saw fit.

The first use of that ash had been in a Sith ritual of remembrance, an experience of a massacre by Jedi. Small wonder, then, that in this specific case it latched on to something Velok did not anticipate in the slightest. Not from the random human spacer on a trip, curious where the road might lead. Velok looked from patchy vision to patchy vision and back to Sedaire.

He'd killed many people in his time. This little human had killed an order of magnitude more.

"I see a fish trapped halfway through a net. I hear a great tree falling to make a bridge across a canyon. I see a hand reaching up from stormy water. I see a long knife in the dark with a notch out of the blade. I see green fire. The omens are..." He gulped. "...excellent."

 

[Trextan Voidstalker]

"That shouldn't be an issue. I need help bringing the rest of these supplies out of Aurora's cargo hold

Trextan looked around at the crates. He looked into a future where he exhausted himself moving these into the Hawk.

"You are more than welcome to leave the 'Verre here and take up your old cabin as well, Trextan."

This was all a rather sudden turn of events. The piece of him still sore at being forced down a path by his own father was immediately suspicious. He glanced at Coren and then back at Chloe.

She wasn't like that. He might not have come to know Chloe as well as others, but to call her a free spirit would be a disservice.

"Yeah, think I'll come along for a bit," Trextan agreed. He could learn a little on the way and catch up with Kyra. She'd been through some rough times, so perhaps a bit of company and Chloe's infectious attitude would be a balm.

With enough time, Trextan even let some of it rub off on him.

"Was Trextan not already with you?" She cut in. Something about that struck her odd.

"Nope," Trextan replied. "I've been out and about. Choli had been travelling with Chloe for a while."

He needed to make time to catch up with Choli and find out where they had gone together. He had more than a few stories of run ins with pirates, extra galactic monsters and sith.

"If you speak to him soon, give him my best."

"You could go visit in at Mos Espa," Trextan said. "Not a lot of conversation and news for him out there."

 

[Chloe Blake]

With that said, Chloe gave an affirmative nod, flashing another warm smile "Well then, s'pose we are all of one mind then."

Turning to Coren Starchaser , "'Pendin' on just how many tons we talkin' about, Trextan just might be able to park his boat in the cargo bay. " a thumb was jerked towards the Aurora's direction, "She could hold up to three-hundred and forty-five metric tons. But if what you wantin' us to deliver ain't more than eighty-six, the 'Verre will be just fine."

By this time, the first strands of 'Wouldn't it be nice' by the Dune Sea Boys fell from the speakers with that upbeat melodious jingle.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long...~

Turning to Kyra Perl , Chloe added giving a nod towards Trextan Voidstalker , "Seein' you and Trextan are familiar, he can guide you to one of the spare cabins. One rule, though, no blasters on my boat. You want to bring one in, then break it apart. Keep it under lock and key." she was a Warden through and through by the traditional means, believing that firing blasters on board starships was dangerous. It is one of the reasons why Wardens were masters of unarmed combat and any blasters on her ship were a no-go.

"I find a blaster. I break it apart, and we play hide and seek." While her sweet disposition made it seem like she was joking, the seriousness in her eyes told otherwise. "And I know every nook and cranny on the Aurora. I'll win."

 

[Kyra Perl]

"Works for me," Kyra agreed, pulling her hands out of those empty pockets to brandish her equally empty palms. The keys she had still hooked on her finger clanked in the air as she jumped back down. She tossed them out for her father and gave him a hard look.

"I'll call you when I'm back." Any attempt at check ins would almost certainly be met with Perl-worthy sass. She pursed her lips in fair warning, then chirped cheerfully over her shoulder to the others.

"I'll grab my bags. Meet you there." She left with a skip to her step.

Chloe Blake Trextan Voidstalker Coren Starchaser

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Probably the toughest challenge that Coren had was being a parent to a Perl. Or trying to be a parent. The twins were fine, they had Celeste as their constant, but the older generation of Starchaser and Perlchasers were more difficult. Wanderers, and free spirits. And a bit of a spitfire, like Kyra.

He caught the keys for the shuttle that she'd been using. He had ideas for it while she was gone. One involved getting its shields updated. Smetimes restarting a movement meant having to repair everything around them.

"I know you will." He said with a bit of a smirk. As she turned herself to make for her bags, he looked at Trextan and Chloe.

He knew Trextan had already been looking out for her, and Chloe was one of the best Wardens he'd ever had the privilege to work with, but he wanted to reiterate a few things. "Just keep an eye on her yeah? Last ship was blown up and I think that kid needs a bit of a path. And I'm pretty sure the two of you can help her better than me. Just… good luck?"

He laughed and nodded. "And I'll get the crates brought over to the Aurora."

Kyra Perl Chloe Blake Trextan Voidstalker

 

[Trextan Voidstalker]

Trextan watched Kyra go. At least she seemed happy. If he hadn't been sullen about having to dismantle his favourite guns, he would have reacted sooner.

"Guess...she's not helping to load the ship then..." he muttered. Coren and Chloe would barely hear it.

"I was there when she lost the ship," Trextan said. He didn't know if Coren knew. He knew that Coren was probably addressing Chloe more than him, but he hoped he could at least be a friend to Kyra.

"Right then..." he went, sounding just Jacen. Coren might notice the typical pattern of speech. "...where are these going?"

 

[Chloe Blake]

"I'll grab my bags. Meet you there."

With a dip of her blonde head, Chloe acknowledged Kyra Perl 's agreement to Chloe's rule regarding blasters. For Trextan, it wouldn't be new, but mirth would coat the Warden's expression nonetheless.

Turning towards Coren Starchaser , the amusement waned until there was just a gentle, warm smile. The concern and worry were there to see on his face regarding Kyra. Chloe could respect that.

"Just keep an eye on her yeah? Last ship was blown up and I think that kid needs a bit of a path. And I'm pretty sure the two of you can help her better than me. Just… good luck?"

"She's in good hands; you have my word," Chloe assured him, reaching over to clasp Coren's shoulder in support and affirmation. Then with a glint of mischief, she gave a cock of her head towards Trextan's direction, "Way I remember it, if we have the right tools and knowledge and are consistent, then reckon somethin' will stick. Kas tulisha abia al port," a joyful chuckle followed, "Chaos opens the door to opportunity. We ain't no different than them, give or take a few decades. Reckon, we did alright by that. "

Just then, Trextan sullenly spoke, offering to help with the cargo.

"Right then...where are these going?"

Chloe would glance at Trextan, back to Coren, and then to Trextan again. Uncanny, how blood would tell. Down to the mannerisms. It was like having Jacen in front of them. With a melodic laugh, Chloe cut the distance as she moved towards him, Coren at her back. Within no time, the trio coordinated with others to unload the Aurora. Parking the 'Verre would be next, as would loading the foodstuffs, medicine, and crate after crate of seeds. They were teaching the outpost how to fish; this many seeds would ensure that they could continue their harvests year after year with proper seed-saving techniques.

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

"Someone's been at the engines," Nicholas explained, loosing an exhale. "The armouring beneath is all cut away, peeled back in some places like we saw. I was hopeful it'd just be refurbishing but there's an entire engine gone and the second? All that's left is the block itself and a piece of the coolant pump."

Lavorn – Capital City – Port District – Hangar 33B

"Bo shuda, friends!"

This hangar was not, strictly speaking, accessible to the public. Therefore Skeevi kept their hands visible, open, and empty during the approach. Those looked like rangers or mercs, the kind of folks who might be in an actionable and portentous bad mood after finding one and a half engines gone from a patrol vehicle. The kind of men you didn't want to spook. No sudden movements and no nonsense about being more frightened of you than you were of them.

Skeevi took down their iridescent yellow hood, revealing Zabrak horns, braided hair, and the most honest smile they could muster.

"Speeder parts you need? We've got parts, all kinds. Stabilizers, harnesses, engines, good engines, fit just right, we got'em." Skeevi was currently alone. "Hi chuba da naga? Yukusu kenza keena, eh, eh?"

They shifted between Basic, Huttese, and Jawa trade cant, driven headlong by excitement for just the right deal.

 

[Nicholas Volk]

Stroga took the shock worst. His wide cheeks drained pale, rushed to a flush of alarmed rage, and he spun round on his toes while disengaging his carbine-revolver from its holster. Nicholas bit down on the feeling of ice-melt suddenly firing up his spine from his rump; instinctive alarm, hard-coded survival response at being caught off-guard, his own reflex nocking his right hand to his own pistol-grip with serpentine-speed. Time slowed, enough for Nicholas to run a rapid threat-diagnostic of the 'guest' standing aside of them and their heavily dismantled patrol groundcar.

They were diminutive in stature, dressed in modified street fatigues with that iridescent coat and cowl, evidently unarmed. Nicholas shot his off-hand out and chopped the heel of his palm between Stroga's revolver hammer and cartridge. The pin struck in and dug painfully against the back of a knuckle.

"Kolya! Damn it," Stroga cussed, fussing to release the hammer.

"Check fire," Nicholas said, more evenly. He pulled his hand free and began massaging a blotch of rapidly bruising skin along his pinkie. He nodded at their interloper.

"Firstly," He began. "We have a requisitions officer who'd be happy to review any offers you've got on hand. Secondly, we'd like to know how you managed to come inside past security."

"That one especially," Said Stroga tersely.

"Thirdly... And perhaps most important of all..." Nicholas looked from Stroga, now emoting something both angry and sheepish in his face, to the hangar garage packed fully with groundcars variously disassembled, damaged, or wholly slagged and reeking of cooked metal. Looked to the off-beat 'trader' visibly vibrating at the prospect of business. Speaks Jawaese, in a Huttese accent, looks Iridonian, has the makings of a gremlin. Only in the Levant, He thought.

"...Most importantly, do you have solid-block engines? Six cylinder, in-line? Two-seventy cubic inch? Overhead valves? Or any groundcar scrap? If you've got the inventory, we can skip requisitions and get down to catalogue. We're not that fussy."

Skeevi Merrill

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

Firstly," He began. "We have a requisitions officer who'd be happy to review any offers you've got on hand. Secondly, we'd like to know how you managed to come inside past security."

"That one especially," Said Stroga tersely.

"Thirdly... And perhaps most important of all...Most importantly, do you have solid-block engines? Six cylinder, in-line? Two-seventy cubic inch? Overhead valves? Or any groundcar scrap? If you've got the inventory, we can skip requisitions and get down to catalogue. We're not that fussy."

When you made a living out of popping up to offer deals in the grodier quadrants of the galaxy, you got a bit used to being drawn down on. You could never get used to it all the way unless you were some kind of holovid hero, which is to say, imaginary. Skeevi kept the panic down and off their face and kept their hands up and open.

"Po, I wanna meet your requisitions officer. Ko, I got in here all the usual ways." There'd been a small bribe but Skeevi was no snitch. "And kyo, you bet, you bet I got opakwa. I got six cylinder, I got better, I got seven-cylinder. Engines for this? No problem."

The hangar, with its

groundcars variously disassembled, damaged, or wholly slagged and reeking of cooked metal

looked like the more optimistic depictions of the Jawa afterlife. That helped with the fear, frankly. It was all Skeevi could do not to start cannibalizing everything in sight. And come to think of it...

"You got good opakwa in here already, neh? My parts, your parts, right work, I make it work. You need engines for this one, three hundred with all cogs."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren knew that if Trextan was around, that meant good things for Kyra too. He knew Chloe more directly, but if Trex was a dinosaur and anything like his father, Kyra would be well protected. And that meant he had even less to worry about. But he had to laugh when Trextan spoke.

"Shes… being Kyra." He laughed. "And I heard something about that. You responded to a beacon to get her?"

Best that he was there. But the Jedi Master did hear Jacen in Trextan's pattern. Was it something of getting old for missing the glory days and those you shared them with?

"Yeah. It's the thing we all need to be better about, turning the lead over to the next generation, right?" Coren had tried to stay in the war zones too much after the Coruscant fall of the Alliance. But he did find himself out in the Rim and now back to the Levantines. This was going to be a good place.

"Will be interesting to see what you can do with her." He laughed. Following the other Warden, he was prepped to help with the Blake ship. And get them on their way.

 

[Nicholas Volk]

"...Give us a moment."

Nicholas tugged Stroga at the shoulder, and the pair backpedalled from Skeevi, pulling the height of a heavy wheeled tool-chest over to afford a temporary screen.

"Three hundred?" Nicholas began.

"I've not got three hundred on me," Said Stroga. "You? Payslips aren't until Benduday and - "

"No, I mean, are we not haggling that?"

"What's to haggle? Will we look a gift-bantha in the mouth? The skeever wants to deal, so I say, let them wheel and deal."

Nicholas tucked a lip under his upper teeth and sucked for a moment, pacing on the spot, arms akimbo. Former Levant territories appreciated Ranger services in applying law enforcement to tertiary zones, heading off problem raider and marauder incursions, and solving issues on the Tingel Fringe, where only the application of precise and incredible violence would nullify greater harm. The collection of disparate systems that spanned their chosen patrol haunts, however, weren't especially affluent. And the Ranger corp operated under the condition they could receive certain resource levies, but not a terrible amount of capital. Their small forces were left to fend for their own in acquiring and servicing their own gadgetry and vehicles. Nicholas idly adjusted a dial on his bracer, watching the attached nixie-watch blink off and on. Lost in a thought. He nodded to Stroga, to himself, and stood straight.

He swept the tool-chest aside and strided forward to Skeevi Merrill , meeting their eyes. "We pay two-fifty but! We throw in ten kilo's of spare scrap."

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

The average rolling tool chest weighed a ginormous amount when fully loaded. Nicholas Volk might or might not notice that when he moves it the second time, its mass rated as slightly less ginormous. Skeevi slipped a nice little hydrospanner up their sleeve and engaged in the haggling with great earnestness.

"Two-fifty, ko gakisewa dyo kisewa, and ten? Ten? I can do ten."

Ten pounds of scrap was a mere taste of the smorgasbord all around, but Skeevi could be patient. Besides, these seemed like honest rangers, so they got the honest ranger discount.

"Cousins and I, we'll get good engine up here, plug it in, yuna puna, good as new by tomorrow. Or maybe next."