My House, A Safe House

[John Ash]

The Hutt cartel seemed to be getting bored and running out of illegal activities to do. Was this because of other criminal organizations pushing them out of the black market? Were they just giving up and now taking out the frustration on innocent people? John didn't really know and didn't really care. The important thing was that he had gotten out of that situation back at the bar without his identity getting leaked or too much damage being done. He didn't know if anyone had tried to follow him through the door or hatch, but the detonators should have been a good deterrent for any foolish enough to try.

There was only one place that John knew he could safely lay low at in Nar Shaddaa right now, his own home. They had somehow known [member="Priscilla Genesis"] identity and so obviously knew where she was going to as well. The business district was not as lawless as the entertainment districts were, but if they mobilized enough people they could find them there. They also were likely to keep tabs on those entering and leaving the moon, so that was just as bad of an idea as heading to the business district. So John's home was the best place to be at. No one knew John was connected to it and so were not going to show up. Plus he kept all of his arms and armor here, so it was a bad idea to try to break into his place.

John had made sure to help Priscilla get into Ashenhearth. He said as he got onto his computers to check out the latest news, " Feel free to use the bed Princess. If you need anything just ask. I'll get it for you. We will be safe here, so try to relax. Today was stressful so I'm sure you could use it." He then began to search through the local Nar Shaddaa news. Mention of a fire fight breaking out and hutt cartel placing a reward on the finding of a Pantoran woman was all he could find. Seems they were not revealing her name, or might not have known as much as they boasted they did.

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

As they approached John's house, she sighed as the Limosine driver escorted her, along with the music shop clerk who she was now having open the discussions with, suddenly a shooting pain came from her left side. "Argh... I think I've bee-.." before the last word could come from her mouth, the Princess collapsed onto her knees, holding her left side and screaming out in agony. As she undid the robes, revealing her usual outfit, there was severe injury, probably caused by a blaster shot.

"Must've scaved me while I was running" Both the shop clerk and the Limo driver would assist her to her feet and would be supporting her as she walked. As she saw the sofa, she immediately fell down onto it. "I NEED a doctor. NOW" Her usual breaths would turn into short, rapid and repeated ones, and she would start hyperventilating. The shop clerk would panic, starting to search the house for medication, and the Limo driver looked [member="John Ash"] with a confused face, not knowing what to do.

 

[John Ash]

Things were going into a frenzy as John tried to get a sense of their situation. It seemed [member="Priscilla Genesis"] had gotten herself hurt and those that tagged along were in a panic. He sighed as he got up out of his seat. He walked over to the cabinets between his workbench and the kitchen area. He said as he did, " Calm down. You don't need a doctor. I've been hit in a worse place and come out alright without medical attention." He pulled out a breathing mask, a bacta needle, and a bacta patch from his medical cabinet. He turned to look at the shop owner as he closed the cabinet door. He said, " You can stop going through my stuff now. This is a home not a barracks."

Priscilla was hopefully still on the sofa, although she had no reason to move from it, as John walked over to her. He got onto his knees so he was closer to eye level with her and began to mess with her clothes so that he could see the injury. He said as he got it cleared enough mess with, " This is going to hurt. Can't do anything about it." He then pulled the cap off of the needle and stuck it in right by the hole. He pressed down and the bacta was forced down into her body. As he did this, he put the mask over her mouth and said, " Deep breaths." He activated the air pump on it and it began to pump oxygen rich air into the mask. He pulled the needle out once it was empty. He pulled the back off of the bacta patch and laid it down over the injury. He pressed down over it softly to make it stick. He was finished up with the treatment and now she could berate him for not being "delicate" enough with her.

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

Her eyes would fill with fury as [member="John Ash"] injected her with the needle; "Are you trying to kill me?" she looked down at the injury, which she had only just recognized after the shock of the pain, and immediately fainted for a brief 30 seconds, rousing herself afterwards but then drifting in an out of consciousness. As she started to breathe properly, she would take the mask off and then yell "I'm going to die. I should've never came here. And what of my father... oh my..." as this drifting pattern continued her face would grow a pale blue in comparison to its normal colour. The wound itself was nothing major, and indeed was as she suggested 'just a scave' but the pain kept resounding even after the bacta patch was placed.

She would continue to go on long rants, periodically putting the oxygen mask on again when she wasn't speaking. Slowly but surely, she started to calm down and almost felt a bit hazy, going onto a more casual discussion. "When was the last time this place was decorated? It looks like it just came out of the stone age." She would laugh at her own jokes as the Limo driver put a re-assuring hand on her shoulder, telling her everything will be fine. "Oh David I really do need a glass of water. Would you be a dear and go get me one? Oh and inform my father I almost died today. I'm sure he'll most enjoy it." He would nod and give a light chuckle.

"So-.. You haven't explained to me why you saved me yet, you could've just let me die out there with my escort, why not?"

 

[John Ash]

It would seem this [member="Priscilla Genesis"] had not had much in the way of physical pain before this point. The shock of the whole experience was getting to her and causing her to constantly go on rants and pass out it seemed. Everyone reacted differently to it, so it was always hard to say what was going to happen. The best thing John could do right now was to let her recover from it while berating him. He went back over to his computer and began to check on how things were going. Not much information yet. Not unusual seeing how it had just happened and this was Nar Shaddaa. Shootings and fire fights in the streets happened a little too often for most people's tastes. One day things would get better....atleast that is what John always had to tell himself.

The Princess seemed to have recovered from her shock as she began to make sense once again. He heard her ask for water from her escort, and he decided to step in before it sent her on another tangent. He said from his seat, " Grab a bottle of purified water from the fridge. The water from the pipes is heavy and tastes terrible." There. He had saved himself thirty minutes of ranting about how bad the water was. Her little order was soon followed up though with a question for him. A question that John didn't know exactly how to answer. There were as many reasons he could think of to have just left her to her fate as there was to help her out. Credits were not exchanged either so he couldn't fall back on the tried and true "its my job." Why did he decide to save her?

A minute or more had past as John thought over the question a bit with no good answer coming to mind. The subject needed to be changed. He said as he began to look up the registry on ships at the docks, " Why did you come to Nar Shaddaa yourself Princess? I thought this moon had a bad enough rep that everyone knew about it. Seems like the worst place for a young, attractive woman such as yourself to be at." He hoped that worked on changing the subject because if it didn't then what he was seeing about several ships being destroyed at the docks by hutt cartel members sure would do that.

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

She'd look at John shaking her head "'Bad rep'? I've never heard of this moon in my life, surely you're mistaken. I mean the man who contacted my father sounded sincere enough, but I had my doubts. I suppose it was a bad idea for me to come here. How the hell am I getting off this planet anyway? DAVID, have you contacted my father yet?" Confused by the whole situation, the Limo driver who had now taken off his hat for a more casual atmosphere. "Yes, he said that there will be... what was it again... Yes... I believe he said something about the Diplomatic Envoy ship coming to pick us up, but I am still unaware of how long that'll take."

The pain had died down and she was now settling in. "Is there anything fun to do around here? If I'm going to be waiting 2 days for transportation off of here, I'm not spending it in a hospital bed wrapped up like a homeless person."

[member="John Ash"]

 

[John Ash]

Had they sent a message out? Hopefully they had been smart enough to make sure it was encrypted in case someone tracked it. There was a slim chance of that happening, but any chance right now was too much of one to take. John frowned a bit as he listened to the conversation, but had something else to do right now. He had done a bit of tracking and figured out who that soldier from before likely was. The man seemed competent enough and they could use an extra pair of eyes that knew what they were doing until [member="Priscilla Genesis"] could get off the moon and out of his hair. He sent a message out to [member="Valkren Calderon"] that said:

To: Soldier Boy
From: The Guy You Owe Drink Credits
You owe me credits still for those drinks. Don't think you can drink and run just because some pretty lady walked out.

He had it encrypted it and attached the coordinates to his house in it. Hopefully he could figure out what it was about and get over to the house. He needed someone who wasn't a Princess, a limo driver, or a music shop owner to talk to. He especially needed someone who wasn't a music shop owner to talk to. The man was laying on the act of being a music lover pretty thick even though everyone knew he was a spice dealer. Spice was legal on Nar Shaddaa, so why was he pretending to run a music shop anyways?

John turned to the Princess after he got the message sent out. She was bored already? She just got shot, even if it was not serious at all, and she was bored? This was why he didn't like taking on jobs for royals. He had enough of that back on Coruscant with the ones who thought they could make descent officers. He sighed a bit before he said, " I have some holoshows you can watch. A few videos and movies too. Then there is some books on my holopad, but those are mostly technical stuff. I don't exactly know what you like so I can't be sure what to offer. What is it that you want to do Princess?"

 

[Valkren Calderon]

A modified stealth D-25 dropship bearing no factions' colors soared through the skies of Nar Shaddaa, piloted by Saber team's very own Intel Specialist Young. Sporting a specialized helmet and visor, his once impaired vision from the previous Operation Torch had now recovered due to extensive medical procedure's in Nar Shaddaa's wealthier section of the many districts. Contrary to his doctors' advice, he was back out in the field and back on the grind, assisting his teammates any way he could, since Valk' certainly wouldn't let him go back

"Coming up on his coordinates now, boss. We'll set you all down on the roof, then stash the bird somewhere until you call."

"Thanks, kid." Valkren slapped their temporary pilot on the shoulder, before turning and crawling back into main bay of the transport craft. There his other four teammates would be; his demolitions specialist, Ken Michaels, and secondary assault specialist, O'Riley, were both resting against the rotary cannons equipped to the side of the dropship, acting as the doorgunners for their quick drop onto John's home. Saber team's designated marksman, Watson, and Ryan O'Connor, their primary assault specialist, were currently checking over their kits, preparing for their drop onto John's home.

"So explain to me this, why are you helping this so called princess? Directly before we leave for Denon?" Michaels jeered, a lit cigarette between his lips as he spoke, unhealthily filling the air within the dropship with tobacco smoke, the only exit in which the smoke could flow out were the open holes the rotary cannons and doorgunners would use.

"Call it a political move, or maybe I have a soft spot for princesses." Saber team's NCO joked as he moved toward the middle of the dropship to prepare for the drop.

"God I hope not, mate." O'Connor stated as he'd lift an extra oversized pack up, carrying a mix of medical equipment, weapon ammunition, and survival gear; he'd turn Sergeant Calderon around, before assisting him in placing it on his back. Valkren accepted and appreciated the help, extending his arms to slip the straps over his back. "A farm boy and princess, make me karkin' gag."

"Don't worry boys, I'm married to the game. Besides, that bounty hunter seems to have her on lock-down."

"Boss is too ugly anyways..It runs in his blood. No commando can get a proper date, everyone knows that." Watson stated as he moved himself toward the rear ramp of the modified dropship.

"Approaching drop zone in one-minute." Young leaned over, yelling out to his rear so his teammates could hear him.

"So what do you call Michael's wife then?" O'Riley stated as he left his post at the right door-gunner position to steal the burning tobacco stick from Michael's mouth, returning to his position as he took a drag from it.

"Isn't she related to one of the Hutt's?" The entire team went into their usual uproar, Michaels trying his best to calm them down.

Valkren simply shook his head, moving to the rear drop ramp with O'Connor and Watson. It was good that they kept the laughs up in their tight-knit group. It kept the Directorate/Republic special forces task force active and their morale up. He'd look down to his own kit that rested on his chest plate. Opposed form their usual full-suit and heavy-assault armor, the three-man team had on only their chest plates, with civilian clothing underneath to remain discreet to any Hutt contacts in the city. To the common eye, they'd just seem like another trio of mercenaries for hire, opposed to an element of special forces operators. He'd check over his assault blaster, before nodding to Watson to hit the controls for the rear-ramp. He hoped this bounty-hunter was only calling for support, the encrypted message still being vague for what it stated. He knew he required something of him, considering that Valkren had paid for most of their drinks that night in the bar in the middle of the entertainment district. Having a full-operation coming up on Denon in a matter of weeks, Sergeant Calderon wanted to keep this short and to the point, if possible. They'd go down, help pull security if needed and apply medical services to whoever needed it.

Suddenly, the ramp lowered, letting the stink of the Nar Shaddaa air flow in and overwhelm the single smell of the tobacco that filled the dropship. The stealth D-25 turned slightly, tipping it's nose in the air to lower the ramp toward the roof, directly above the electro-fences that protected John's roof. The three men all pulled black balaclava's up, resting right below their eyes to hide their identities, their helmets exchanged out for black beanies to provide for some more light-weight movement. All three men fell from the back of ship and rolled onto the roof of Ashenhearth, Watson and O'Connor moved to either side of the hatch that led to the ladder, raising their blasters up to cover the surrounding area, while Valkren sat directly over it, knocking on it several times to let John know someone was on the roof.

The dropship with the three remaining members of his team soared off to hide until further contact was made.

[member="John Ash"] | [member="Priscilla Genesis"]

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

(Sorry for the late reply, family insisted I stopped going on the computer on Christmas day )

As she heard the knocks coming from above her she looked at John, "Looks like we've got some visitors; I just hope they're not here to kill me" grinning as she says this. She takes out her blaster from underneath her robes, and after that she removes the robes revealing her casual attire. A burgundy jacket, skirt and high heels. "Honestly, these bounty hunters are so troublesome now-adays. David, get you're blaster out, I wouldn't be surprised if our live was in endanger again given this city's atmosphere." At this point, her attitude almost completely shifted to 'helpless Princess' to 'Sort of bad-ass shooter', but she knew herself her aim was off, last time she shot a blaster was in the training grounds as apart of mandatory royal protection training. Any fighting she usually left to her escort, but given their usefullness in the situations they've been in they're clearly going to have to take a leaf from her book.

"Or maybe it's that nice man from the bar, either way, let's go find out" As she walked slowly away, awaiting John's response.

[member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="John Ash"]

 

[John Ash]

The knock on the hatch meant that [member="Valkren Calderon"] had arrived. If it had been a bounty hunter they would not have knocked and just opened it up to drop a thermal or other detonator inside of the building. Not the smartest move if they did that, but thankfully it wasn't that situation. He stood up from his chair as [member="Priscilla Genesis"] went into full on "shoot it dead" mode. He raised a brow as he watched her remove her robe and pull out a blaster. Why was she wearing a robe to begin with? Its not like she was a space wizard or something. He didn't get royalty at all. At least she wasn't going on and on about how bad things were in his house now. It might not look like much but it was clean and orderly. He did grow up in a house with a soldier for a father and went to military school until he was 16.

As John walked over to the ladder, he took his duster off. He placed it in his armor rack in his workshop area. He wanted to switch out of this armor, but he couldn't really change with the Princess in his place. It was opened up and had no real privacy after all. He went over to the ladder and yelled up it, " No soldier boys allowed, unless they have drink credits." He then pressed a button so that the hatch to the roof unlocked and they could open it up. The extra hands that actually knew what they were doing could now join him in keeping an eye on the Princess. Now he just had to figure out how to entertain her.

 

[Valkren Calderon]

Both O'Connor and Watson looked over their shoulders in their crouched positions, only their eyes showing the sudden confusion at the statement that came from inside the hatch. Sergeant Calderon simply rolled his eyes momentarily, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips, opening the hatch and moving to the side once he had heard the locking mechanism on the trap disengage. He'd hold the hatch open with his left hand, holding his assault blaster in his right as he scanned the surrounding buildings. It might have been a possibility that someone had trailed the dropship, had some agent on Nar Shaddaa tailed them from the beginning of their arrival there. If it had only be recently, then it wasn't likely due to their indiscreet vehicle. To Nar Shaddaa's skies, it could have just been another gang's warbird.

O'Connor looked from Valkren to Watson momentarily, before turning about and lowering himself down into the hatch, his thick accent coming out as the unrecognizable balaclava's adjusting their kits' and packs' so that they could each move down.

"Friendlies, comin' down." O'Connor stated as him, then Watson moved into the room, each nodding as they acknowledged [member="John Ash"] and the talents of the princess's escorts.

"Nice place ya' got here."

Valkren was the last one down the hatch, closing it over his head as he advanced down. The sergeant made note of the level that accessed the side hangar, acknowledging another escape route in the building. After their previous dealing with the Princess and the thugs that were out for her head, it would help if they had more than one emergency plan already. He hoped they wouldn't need it, of course.

The commando from Alderaan dropped to the ground, his assault blaster hanging from the sling over his chest plate, he'd turn to the others in the room, pulling his balaclava down from the bridge of his nose soon after his two teammates did. Revealing which one was exactly the 'soldier boy' that John spoke towards.

"I paid for those drinks, ya' know. Handed you the fetthin' credits myself brother." The operator exclaimed, switching his gaze to [member="Priscilla Genesis"]. So far it had only been bad news when he was in the presence of this one, he hoped that situation would change.

"Good to see you're alive, your highness." He politely nodded, before looking back to the bounty hunter, almost expecting a sort of combat report for the situation they were currently in. O'Connor cocked a brow as he looked to their team's NCO once again, almost confused at his response. Although, it wasn't often that the operators were in the presence of any form of royalty(Considering the first time he had seen her, he was riding a good buzz.) Their usual placement was in a muddy trench or in a dark alley. They hardly even went to any of the Military Balls now-a-days, never even dressing up in the presence of superiors. The only time they had met someone famous or high-ranking was while they were still in battle-torn heavy armor. However, the bounty hunter that had called him..That's who they were used to, where they strangely felt at home socializing. Some would say that Saber team had been on the darker side of the Republic and the Directorate for some time now. Of course, what would happen after living off-the-grid for as long as they did after the first fall of the Republic?

Watson and O'Riley had moved to separate sides of the room after a brief walk around of the open area that was John's place. They seemed to be now idly relaxing in their stance, hands loosely resting on the handles of their slung blasters; in reality they were keeping somewhat of a perimeter, always ready. They might not have even realized they were doing it themselves, it had just become habit by now.