Mr Blue Skies

[Mishel Kryze]

The hums of an engine drive and the feeling of moisture beneath her finger tips were the first signs that Mishel was no longer in the safe environment of the Bastion of Ren. Indeed, as she woke up, the girl felt the grate of metal beneath her finger tips. Blistering heat that forced the thick maroon Bantha leather jacket to stick to her body. Matted hair laid disheveled across her back, black flight pants and combat boots rounded out an outfit anchored by a crossing pair of brown holsters neither of which were full.

She blinked a few times as the dull yellow of the lights below her stabbed her vision. Once she had adjusted to it the young woman put one hand to her eyes and the other braced against the metal grate. She tried to speak but nothing came from her voice, instead what came out was a rasp sound of pain. Mishel winced and held her side, the girl rolled over to her back to be met with a rather ugly Weequay staring right back at her.

Mishel watched as he raised a boot and she put her arms over face and that was all she could remember.

A slaver ship passing through the Outer Rim Coalition heading back from what was a rather good haul. They had picked off the escaped pods from either First Order, Civilian or Galactic Alliance ships. The girl had on her person a lightsaber and a slug thrower pistol. No one knew who she was but she seemed rather important if the First Order symbol on her chest meant anything. It had been embroidered into the jacket, black and gray but after that, they could discern nothing of her identity. The kid didn't even pack a kit, would definitely fetch a decent price the Slaver had figured.

The Weequay was known quite simply as Everburn. Everburn had a few rules on his ship, make sure the product was alive, don't steal product from others and honor every deal. Everburn was on the bridge hands on the wheel as he guided his ship through the stars. Below deck men with blasters guarded his product. In a cell close to the stairwell, the girl with the jacket laid up against the wall. Shoulders slumped over and handcuffed to the bar behind her.

Mishel's eyes fluttered opened and her vision was blurred, but her nose was assault with the rank smell of sewage and decay. Immediately she put her free hand to her nose and then turned her head. She noticed her handcuffed to the bar and narrowed her gaze. Mishel jerked at the cuff but that proved to be a bit painful. The motors whirred in her cybernetic hand and she balled them up into a knuckle to try and break the cuffs off but at the moment the pain sensors in the skin told her to stop.

She sighed and put her head against the cold slick wall behind her. The ship groaned beneath the girl and Mishel half wondered just how thick the deck plating actually was. Part of her wished she had stayed back on Virgillia, she missed her brothers and sisters and of course her precious shack. Mishel patted herself down as she wondered where her tools had gone. See, she hadn't brought an actual survival kit with her because that would have meant she had thought this entire 'adventure' through. No, she brought her lightsaber kit the one that helps her modify and build lightsabers.

And as it happened it wasn't on her person either. She jerked at the cuff once more and grumbled. Mishel had to get off this ship, one way or another.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAOMIH7cgh0[/media]


[member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Nate Phantoms"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"] | @ORC Folks.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

"Captain, we have received reports that slavers are coming right to ORC space" the combat controller panicked a little bit. "Patching through their last known trajectory"

"Dispatch an element to engage and disable. Oh and Alchemist Actual, don't get too cocky after this sortie on Dagobah" the captain of the Verdict warned Janick.

"Wololo, stay here, onboard the Verdict, as backup if we need it, alongside Ornfra, and Tastidian, while Griet and I will fly this operation, with ion torpedoes loaded onboard our bomb bays"

The Metharian Nebula blockade by the First Order. That proved to be the main cause of the surge in slavers preying on unsuspecting trade ships for the past month or so. And, like the Ta'jar Blood Gang slavers she caught in Caupona, albeit with some risk, here she will need to proceed differently, and she knew it was going to be far from over. Now that she was back onboard the Verdict, which was stationed over Adarlon for rapid response, Janick knew that she would need to be quick with the ion torpedoes. Sixteen of them, all told, of which she can fire two at any given time, unlike bombs, which can only be dropped one at a time. And, once the ship was disabled, it would be time for the boarding parties to capture the slavers. Yet, she knew better than to just feel so cocky just because she was part of a daring attack on the Pellaeon that only worked in forcing the Imperials to retreat because the Incandescent Truth was ramming it. Once the ion torpedoes were loaded onboard her craft, she was then ready to fly and then go fire at those pesky slavers that held [member="Mishel Zanteres"] onboard, with Griet as her wingwoman, once again facing the prospect of death in battle, as every pilot would when fighting outside of a planetary atmosphere.

[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Runi Verin"] [member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Slipping through hyperspace aboard the Heaven's Bane, he stood on the bridge,with his arms crossed and a brooding gaze that stared out into the emptiness streaming by.

"Captain,"

"Captain".

"​Nate!"

Like a whip, the voice of his first mate cut through the foggy daydream that stole his attention. Standing before him, her pose said what her eyes did not. Hands on her hips, to which one was farther out that the rest of her body. Like a teen arguing. "There's a ship directly smack dab in the middle of our route. Slavers by the look of it. I'd strongly advise checking them out as they are in your little groups territory."

Waving his hand dismissively, he nodded. "You seem to know better than me." Drawling hi swords out sarcastically, he turned and made his way to the cabins, as a certain pink somebody had accompanied him. Knocking lightly against the door, his deep voice rang out in the otherwise empty hall way. "J, we'll be coming out of hyper space soon... Oh, and we'll have guests."

[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Mishel Zanteres"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The Zeltron had hitched a ride with Nate after her last job, finding his company much more pleasant than that of her regular pilot. Ivan was in a mood, and when he was in a mood things got nasty. Joza decided to give him his space for the time being.

She was resting in her bunk when a knock at the door followed by Nate’s familiar voice stirred her from her twilight state. Rolling off of the bed, she grabbed her saber hilts from the nightstand and clipped them onto her belt. “Gotcha Phantoms,” She grunted, patting under the pillow for the blaster she’d left there.

Hey, never know if you’d get stealth boarded in the middle of the night or whatever.

She hit the button on the side panel and the door slid open. “Unfriendly guests I’m guessing.” She sent a hand through her crown of her head and down through her hair. They both knew that there was a particular type of guest in the Outer Rim.

“Think we’ll need backup?”

[member="Nate Phantoms"] [member="Mishel Zanteres"] [member="Janick Beauchamp"]

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Scoffing, he moved across the hall, calling from inside his cabin, a set of dark purple lights illuminating the otherwise pitch black room. "I am the back up miss." That would be a joke other wise, as multiple times he's been knocked on his ass. He just like saying it. Stepping back mid strip, he spoke through the fabric of his black shirt, managing to pull it down after putting it on backwards. "Slavers usually aren't the nice type."

Eyeballing her, his flaming faze rested on her belt. Reaching out, he examined one of her sabers, as he had genuinely never really seen his pink friend use them before. She had always managed to use.... other means to disarm her targets. "New?"

Just as he had released his light grip on her saber, one of his crewmen ran up to the duo, nodding in greeting to Joza. "Sir, intercepted transmission; they seem to be talking about one of their catches. Something about a FO operative, a Ren."

Grunting, he looked back at Joza, a smile spreading across his face but never reaching his eyes. "Things just got interesting."


[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Mishel Zanteres"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

Bryce awoke with a thud... falling out of the top bunk will do that. The effects of last night still weighted down the marshal as he struggled to remember why the feth he was here, wherever here was...

Drinks, lots of them... He remembered going shot for shot with a red haired... Joza. Ok yeah he had tried to keep up with Joza and he must have failed.

"FETH my face hirts" he said as he fumbled for his med kit.

Stumbling to his feet he eventually found his target and began basic post Joza party protocol. Two injectors of bacta and a tall glass of blue milk later he felt almost human.

Grabbing the rest of his kit and putting on most of his cloths under his red jacket he stumbled up to the bridge of the ship by following the sweet ensense of Zethron pheromones.

"Ok Joza what have you gotten me into now... wait is that Nate?"

[member="Nate Phantoms"] / [member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The Zeltron arched a brow. “Older than you probably, Phantoms.” She shot back, though not without good humor between friends. “Used to be quite the saber jockey before I went full time CEO.”

They were interrupted as a crewman apprised them of the situation. Joza’s other brow rose, head tilting to meet Nate’s eyes with her own in a knowing glance. “I’ll say.”

Bryce joined them on the bridge a short while later. “Oh good, you’re still alive!” Joza greeted him cheerily. “We’ve got what appears to be a Ren captured by pirates in our space. Fine way to start the day, right?” It was noon.

[member="Bryce Bantam"] [member="Nate Phantoms"] [member="Mishel Zanteres"]

 

[Nate Phantoms]

He grumbled at her tease. I'm not that young.... am I? "Hey now, I don't see you ever complaining when you ask me to pick things off the floor." He smiled this time, actually as he imitated an older person holding their back and walking with a cane. "Ohhhh, my back. Natey? Can you help your granny into the speeder?"

Standing up straight her chucked, elbowing her gently. "Kidding dear."

Things only got better as his long time, also redheaded companion stumbled next to them. "Nice of ya to join us bud. We're right atop the slaver ship so I suggest ya get ready for a rough family reunion. Cuz I'm bout to kick down the doors."

"Just like the good old days."

[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Mishel Zanteres"]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

The deck seemed to drip with water, every other second Mishel watched it hit her jacket and then the grate beneath her. She dragged the cuff down to the bottom of the cage. Her head to the floor with an ear listening for sounds, and what she heard made her smile. "Everburn there's a ship above us, think it's one of dem ORCcas?"
And there was no reply at first before Everburn threw a literal fit and pretty much nailed that it had to have been ORC, or Orcca as they were being called. Mishel pushed her lips to the side as she knelt there, knees to the grate, her olive shirt damp with sweat and water. They cut the air, and it left her sweating up a storm and as she tried to reach for her canteen she found it was just out of reach. Mishel let out a feral sound from her lips and realized in the same moment, there was no void stone, no ysalamir forest, nothing in the way of anti-force.

And then she grinned...

Showtime.

Her cuff handed grabbed the chain that held her to the cage, in an instant, it began to glow from red to orange, and then it melted. Dripped down into the metal grate, smoke rose and water began to boil into a steam beneath her feet. Whoever had sent her out here, obviously knew she had a temper problem and ensured her clothing was as fire retardant as possible.

"SHE'S LOOSE!"

"LOCKDOWN, LOCKDOWN!"


[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nAOdJSDo-1E[/media]

And so it would be as [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Nate Phantoms"], [member="Bryce Bantam"], [member="Runi Verin"] and even [member="Janick Beauchamp"] set foot, scanned or even listened in to the ship. They would realize something chaotic was going on. The screams of grown men followed by a cackle of a young girl, animal-like sounds as alarms sounded within the slaver ship. Clearly, they hadn't a clue as to who or what they had picked up. Mishel set loose everyone single slave and armed them as she tossed fireball after fireball into any slaver who came near her. One slaver managed to rush up behind her, he tried to grab her from behind with some sort of arm lock around her neck.

Unfortunately.

She planted her feet and pulled him over her head and watched his body slam into the grate. Mishel wrestled his gun out of his hand and shot him in the chest, all that could be seen was the hole that the blaster left behind. It ran all the way through damn near to the engine room, she walked out of the cage deck leaving behind a trail of bodies. Yet, somehow more men seemed to run to her, she fired off the blaster and managed to land two of the shots. Mishel then tossed the blaster at someone's face as she waited for her fire powers to recharge. Force barrier to block what she could until she grabbed a scattergun from one of the dead slavers and began to fire it off.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

"Approaching target" Griet signaled to her superior, upon approaching standard turbolaser range from the slaver ship.

"Alchemist Actual, Fox 3"

Four ion torpedoes were fired in the first pass, while making the first approach towards the ship that was purported to carry one [member="Mishel Zanteres"] among its prizes from the Metharian Nebula. Because Janick could sense that something went awry onboard, maybe they would not attempt to shoot the ion torpedoes down until too late. With [member="Nate Phantoms"], [member="Joza Perl"] and [member="Bryce Bantam"] attempting to close in on the slaver ship through another vector, the slavers are in for a rough time, and maybe with some systems lighting up, disabled even. But thank the Force for ion torpedoes: that way she could still stay out from the point-defense and fire at the slavers' ship in relative safety since most turbolasers were a little slow to be tracking elite fighters at that range. Then again, if it wasn't equipped with turbolasers, she could safely stay out of range of quad-lasers or any other point-defense guns. But here the aim was to disable the slavers' ship before the other Judges could enter the fray. While the ion torpedoes were reloading, she opened a channel to the slavers, which were quite different from the slavers that she caught in Caupona...

"Attention all slaves onboard: the angels have come to set you free; as for the slavers, prepare to be boarded" she broadcasted on channels as she assumed accessible to the slavers.

 

[Runi Verin]

[member="Mishel Zanteres"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"] | [member="Nate Phantoms"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"]​

Engaged in a salvaging operation on the far side of the system, the independent light freighter Boracyk would appear as nothing more than a hazy smudge on most sensor arrays. Easily passed off as a simple anomaly by most. Nothing more than simple interference generated by the heavy metal laden asteroid field that divided the outer and inner ring of planetoids with a rocky, pock-scarred crescent.

The same couldn't be said in return, however.

"You seeing this, Verin?" Her Herglic second-in-command rumbled in his distinctive voice that was somehow both nasal and baritone all at once. His broad lipped expression proving to be a twisted, yet accurate reflection of the troubled one that played out on her own more slender features. His eyes firmly locked on the readouts that were continuously streaming in from the sensor beacons they'd dropped only hours before. "That Coalition ship is lighting the other one up. I don't think they even gave them warning."

"I ain't blind, Korkie." Runi murmured, studying the readings for herself. Paying particular attention to the apparent 'victim' in the fray. There wasn't enough data to paint an accurate picture of the battle or its participants, but she'd spent enough time in the less hospitable and less regulated regions of the galaxy to know what type of ship that was and what it was about. Her arm throbbed with unwanted memories, the pain filtering into her voice with a harshness that even surpassed her normal irritated tones. "You don't give quarter to slavers, pateesa. They thrive on weakness."

">Hruum!< Mercy isn't a weakness, Verin. I know you don't believe that."

The faux Kiffar merely grunted sourly before lapsing into a pregnant silence, continuing to watch the battle unfold one data burst at a time, not trusting herself to be able to formulate a civil response. For all his skills as a co-pilot and quartermaster, Korkuda had the distinct and infuriating disadvantage of being a good man. Far better than she had any right keeping on her payroll. Not even a decade in the spice mines of Kessell had been able to diminish the Herglic's opinion that the galaxy was, at its core, inherently good.

The readings abruptly jolted. Once, twice. Four times in quick succession. The kind of spikes created by the sudden release of ionic energy. Cannons? No, the pattern was too neat and too grouped. Torpedoes, for sure. Kark, they really weren't messing around. It must be all mother of havoc on board the slaver vessel right now after a strike like that. Lucky if they even had any power left onboard.

"I don't know about that, Korkie, but I know I believe we need to get over there - and fast. Those slaves ain't gonna last a hot minute if the life support starts to buckle."

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Mishel had run out of ammunition with the scattergun, and it forced the renaway to use it as a bludgeoning device instead. She was in mid-swing against a rather nasty Nitko when something told her to get out. Force senses yelled louder than any university student attempting to study for their finals. The young girl dropped the scattergun and headed for the airlock. She snagged the nearest space-ready suit and worked quickly to get herself into it.

And then everything seemed to go into slow motion.

She couldn't quite explain it really, except that when she turned her head she saw a bright ball of fire.

The men and women she had just freed were suddenly floating beside her, gasping for breath. A futile effort to be sure, and there she was floating away in her suit, floating through the abyss. Through an empty void, about as dark and black as Aver Brand's heart or Darth Carnifex's soul, and perhaps even Ashin Varanin's conscience. In any regard, the sole biological spawn of Siobhan Kerrigan floated through with a limited supply of oxygen and the burning wreckage of the slaver ship as it met with the icy grip of space. Turning into a husk right before her eyes as the bodies hardened into ice and their expressions of terror sealed permanently onto their faces.

And then she looked over and found that she was floating quite helplessly toward a ship. It hadn't been there before but it was now, and Mishel only shrugged as she sailed on, floated on with little to no worries. If she died, she was sure that that was fine. After all, it would have meant that Kyrel got his wish no more Kerrigans, but then it would also have been the end of Seiger Ren's control over her. What did Mishel want? To live of course, but at the moment she had little to no control over that.

Her body hit the 'front viewport' or windshield, of the ship her hands moved to grip onto the surface with little avail. She seemed to screech off to the side, her helmet was in such a way she could look into the ship and see the occupants. Or at least the pilot, she tried to use her fire powers but they sizzled and faded, leaving behind embers that snapped into ice as she slipped off and continued to float in the vastness of space.

​

​

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpqmoBYkQfc[/media]​

​

[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Nate Phantoms"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Runi Verin"]​

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza smacked Nate’s arm as he made fun of her age. “You’re lucky I didn’t bring my cane or else I’d beat you with it.” She snickered.

All hell broke loose before they could even prepare to board the slaver’s ship. [member="Janick Beauchamp"]’s attempt to deionize enemy systems lead to an explosion in short order, instantly spacing the contents of the enemy vessel. Suddenly the Heaven’s Bane was floating through a field of frozen, desiccated corpses.

All Joza could do was stare, brows raised and feeling a mix of slighted because they never got their door-kicking fun and startled at how fast it had all happened.

“Well,” She shrugged. “I guess we could start pulling in the bodies for id—“ A solid thud against the main viewport cut her off. It was another body…that was suited up? And moving? And almost made fire in the cold, cold vacuum of space? “I got this one,” She said quickly, throwing up her hands in acceptance of the weird situation before jogging off to prepare.

A few minutes later she was snug in an enviro-suit, tethered to Nate’s ship by a cord as she floated in space. As [member="Mishel Zanteres"] floated by, Joza extended a gloved hand to catch her. She had no idea who this person was—if it was an innocent, great. If it was a slaver, they would still find use for them.

That said, the Outer Rim Coalition was not so kind to the slaving types.

[member="Runi Verin"] [member="Nate Phantoms"] [member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Mishel happened to be floating by when a hand extended itself. The teenage renaway wasn't about to look an opportunity in the face and push off. She grabbed the hand with her own and felt her body move away from the void of space. The girl found herself inside another ship, and once more her back was on the floor if only by choice. She didn't quite trust herself to get up let alone believe she was actually alive. No, she was alive and well just as much as her cybernetic hand whirred. She waited a moment and realized that it was probably okay if she took off her suit, and so, slowly she rose with her hands so that the others could see them. Piece by piece she got rid of the suit so that her maroon coloured, Bantha leather jacket, black flight pants and combat boots with the crossing holsters now filled.

(Somewhere between shooting slavers and getting involuntarily spaced, she found her lightsaber and slugthrower.)

The embroidered First Order emblem had seen better days and looked burnt with good reason of course. Her brown hair had unfolded past her shoulders and her hazel-green eyes spun with an orange-sulphuric haze of darkside corruption and influence before sliding back into hazel-green. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again and took stock of where she was, hands still in the air and as she looked back at the person who had otherwise saved her life. Mishel canted her head to one side, "Auntie Jo?"

[member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Nate Phantoms"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"]

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

"Alchemist Actual, it appears that the occupants have been spaced" Wololo commed Janick, from the comfort of the Verdict's hangar bay.

"Wololo, it appears that there has been a critical failure onboard the target, causing the occupants to be adrift in space. Fortunately, two ships have begun collecting the bodies; they beat us to it. We're returning to ship, there's no way we can actually be of any use to fetch the drifting bodies"

And then all hell broke loose once the four ion torpedoes impacted. May those two ships recover the bodies and find more survivors, hopefully more slaves than slavers but still, she thought, while, in the flash in the Force, her senses were getting a little blurry, perhaps because the Force-distortion was too great to resolve more than one inside the vicinity of what used to be a slaver ship that still lived: [member="Mishel Zanteres"]. She could see the ships belonging to [member="Joza Perl"] and [member="Runi Verin"] actually closing in on the site, where there was still more work to be done, including [member="Nate Phantoms"], whose presence she could also feel. But there definitely were a few dead bodies, a few slavers whose deaths seemed to predate the ship's destruction. Some sort of attempt at mutiny that was cut short by the ship's systems shorting out. Or perhaps the ion torpedo hits had that impact because of damage caused by the revolting slaves before the ion torpedoes impacted. Yet, Janick trusted that both ships used for picking up the drifting bodies were sufficiently armed to fend off more pirates, slavers or what-have-you while said bodies were being recovered.

 

[Bryce Bantam]

Bryce had been using the ships tractor beam to bring in the bodies of the dead. If he had been on a medical ship he may have had the tools to save more people, for now he took a little solice that he had been able to save the first two he had pulled from the icy void. As the status pods that held the barely alive Bryce would let the medic do their jobs while he want over to the one Joza had pulled from space.

"Well that's a nice flight jacket." Bryce said as he took out a medical scanner and began to check [member="Mishel Zanteres"] for injury.

"I trust our stay will be calm and you will fight the urge to spout your first order beliefs to us, yes miss..."

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The body was still alive, thankfully, as a hand reached out to grasp her own. Joza pulled the mystery floater into the skip and immediately helped them remove the enviro suit before ripping the helmet off of her own. Mishel wasn’t instantly recognizable to her, but something about her was very familiar.

“Auntie Jo?”

There it was.

Joza exhaled, partially in relief. “Gorram it Mishel, the hell were you doing out there?” Her voice reflected a mix of maternal irritation and concern.

She arched a brow at [member="Bryce Bantam"] as he started scanning her. The First Order and the Outer Rim weren’t exactly friendly with one another being polar opposites and all so she couldn't blame him.

Rifling through Bantam’s medkit, she retrieved an oxygen mask and slipped it over Mishel’s face. If she was captured as a slave, that was bad. If she was running with slavers? That was also bad. No matter what her answer was, this wasn’t the ideal situation. But it would aid them decide to either help her or throw her in the brig.

"This one's a Kerrigan, Bryce." She paused, remembering the last time she and Mishel had met. "Complicated family."

[member="Mishel Zanteres"]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Mishel's hands were still in the air when [member="Bryce Bantam"] uttered a remark about the First Order. It earned him a sidelong glance from the teenager her attention was drawn back to [member="Joza Perl"] and perhaps just a small flinch at the inflection of her voice. Not sure whether it was okay to lower her hands, the teenager kept them up until the oxygen mask came over her face. She took a few deep breaths and exhaled her hazel-green eyes followed blush colored skin. What was she doing out in the middle of - oh, on a slaver boat? Right. Well, kids.

"You realize that if and when they find you, you're dead right?"

"Please, this is totally planned. I got the emblem and everything."

She put one hand down at her side, while the other plucked at the oxygen mask. It wasn't a secret that her father's nation had once again gone to war against the Galactic Alliance and it meant that she had to be pulled back from studies and sent out to kill Jedi. Kill them all. Mishel shut her eyes tight and the memories of Ossus flooded into her mind, blow by blow she swore she could feel the lightsaber burn into her flesh. Absentmindedly her hand went to the wound that was now sealed by carbon fiber beneath her clothing.

"Your orders were to head to L-49."

"Yeah, well my orders are my orders and I'm not going to L-49."

"You seriously wanna piss off your old man, don't you?"

"Not like it'll be the first time I've disobeyed him, what's he gonna do? Electrocute me again?"

"For Seiger's sake, Mishel."

"Do me a favor, shoot me."

"What?"

"Shoot me, it'll make it more believable."

"Funny story that, Auntie Jo," she started with a sheepish grin and a hand at the back of her neck. "I was basically benched from the invasion, and then when they decided that they might need me... I uh, well I was supposed to reinforce a few of the Stormtroopers but I had other ideas. See there's a lot of slavers who uh well, they are - listen, I tried to play hero. My fault." Yeah well, when someone tried to play solo power ranger without the team - didn't work out so well. Also didn't help that Seiger had dispatched a unit of FOSB agents to subdue her and bring her back. She was also pretty sure one of her sisters was there. She asked to be set free, with a promise to return - kind of, drek, Mishel would say anything if it meant she could stay outside of the First Order for a little bit longer. Getting the whole truth out of her now wouldn't work. "Listen, I'm not... uh, I'm not here for whatever you think I'm here for."

"I just, listen." She heard Joza tell Bryce she was a Kerrigan, "that's not a name I'm going by these days, if we could keep the Kerrigan bit on the down low..."

Mishel made a gesture with her hand to emphasize her point, "names Mishel Zanteres, and if anyone asks I'm just your mild-mannered university student from Avalonia."

Who also happened to wield a lightsaber, and use the force and ran around with a maroon jacket bearing the First Order's emblem...

[member="Runi Verin"] | [member="Nate Phantoms"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza stared down at Mishel, her expression one of intense curiosity with hints of warmth. While there certainly was something in her that cared for the kid, she had loyalties to the Outer Rim and was hesitant to let anything compromise the group of scoundrels by her hand. Moreover, it was difficult to fool a Zeltron when they were paying this close attention—especially one who was trained in the Force to specifically sense twinges in emotion and intent. Mishel was not lying, but there were holes in her story.

She sucked in a breath. Now wasn’t the time for all that.

“Slavers, huh? You’re more like your Auntie Jo than is good for you.” She managed to exhale. The Zeltron was a…violent abolitionist who often took matters into her own hands. Her eyes reflexively scanned Mishel for the signs—bruising on the extremities, especially around the neck and wrists, marks from being shocked or whipped. Marks she'd borne too many times.

Something about what she said next caused her eyes to widen a notch. “Mishel Zanteres? Are you related to a Hazel, by chance?” Though she hadn’t seen [member="Hazel Zanteres"] in a while, she remembered the good natured doctor as a friend. Joza wasn’t aware of any changes to the woman that had taken place since they opened their clinic.

A pause as her eyes met with [member="Bryce Bantam"] for a few moments.

“Alright, Mishel.” She said softer this time around. “We can keep you here until you heal up, but if the First Order gets wind that we’ve got you it could get messy. Don’t want to instigate anything by taking a prisoner that’s not actually a prisoner.” She looked away, then back at the girl. Woman, really. But to Joza she was still that little girl at the Kerrigan estate. “Or I could contact someone for you.”

It was the least she could do for her…niece? Niece. Probably.

[member="Mishel Zanteres"]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CP2HIUzi1_M[/media]

Funny. Mishel was pretty sure she hadn't seen Auntie Jo in- Oh, right. Accelerated Growth, that's a thing.

A childlike shrug of her shoulders followed and when the Zeltron inspected Mishel, she'd find there were bruising, lacerations and a rather nice boot print on her jacket where her arms had crossed over her face. Otherwise, she was fine, "yeah... so I died, and then Hazel brought me back to life and we sort of just, well she always seemed like home after that." Another shrug which was more of a, 'it seemed like a good idea at the time.' "I haven't seen her in a good bit I should see if she's around on Monastery sti-" And then she stopped.

Something inside her told her that [member="Hazel Zanteres"] wouldn't be on Monastery and if that ever-darkening essence in her soul meant anything. Mishel grimaced suddenly and then let her features relax when [member="Joza Perl"] mentioned the First Order. Feth. "Right, so I'm not sure if they will come after me. I wasn't kidding when I said I was supposed to go reinforce some Stormtroopers. I just." There was a reluctant sigh, a slump of her shoulders and she went for the nearest thing that looked like it could hold her. Dejected, she fell into the make-shift chair/bench. "I just, I don't know..."

Hazel-green eyes flicked over and peered into the dashing emerald orbs that belonged to her aunt. "I just want to figure this all out, I had a... mental breakdown awhile back. Father." Seiger Ren. "Demanded that we." The children of Ren, his children as he has put it to her. "That we be more and stop bickering and I don't know, brother Kyrel brought in his daughter - and ... it felt hypocritical."

"Here he was with his own instant daughter, and I'm an abomination?"

She was genuinely hurt by the word and always had been, although she had been taught to use it to fuel her darkside...

"Why? Why am I an abomination? Because I'm Siobhan Kerrigan's daughter?"

Mishel unfolded from her seat and turned her attention away from Joza, Bryce and anyone else who had looked over at her. She walked deeper into the ship, hand against bulkheads. "I didn't ask to be..." Her voice trailed off, "... I never asked to be her kid." Hazel never asked anything of her and maybe that's what made their mother/daughter relationship feel so real. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. "I-"

The ship sputtered and groaned, alarms and klaxons sounded.

Reinforcements.

[member="Nate Phantoms"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"] | [member="Runi Verin"]