Public Oh My God We're All Stuck In A Sarlacc

[Jerec Asyr]

TATOOINE
A SARLACC​

"—so look, it's not important how we got here! Or who was flying!"

The setting: a giant Hutt caravel, every kind of skulking and skullduggery in full swing.

Outside the windows, the stomach of an unprecedentedly gigantic sarlacc.

On the floor, and dripping from the upper decks, stomach acid.

Jerec was currently hanging from the ceiling like a pissed-off Kowakian. There were all kinds of chairs, tables, daises, band stands, sealable doors, and everyone was trying not to get their feet digested. Valuables of all sorts — jewelry, exotic weapons, rare liquor bottles, the works — were largely discarded or in the process of reclamation. People with especially resilient boots could basically name their price for whatever. The caravel stank of spice and cooking meat and digestion underway. There were hundreds of people aboard, folks of all descriptions and allegiances. (No Jedi, though, unless they'd sneaked in. But everyone and everything else.)

"...know what, my wallet still has reception. First five good ideas get to split a quarter million Underworld Credits. Go!"

 

[Arris Windrun]

"I've been in this situation before," she brushed off the significant differences in detail.

Arris lit her cigarra and took a drag, sprawled against the support beam that caught her fall.

"With a Jedi - he was able to connect with the creature and convince it to regurgitate us... Either that or it was the street's worth of spice we forced into its blood stream.

"Those are my ideas, anyway. Oh, uh, stay away from the juices - that chit burns!"


Jerec Asyr

 

[Vestra Tane]

"If we can get to the engines," Vestra grunted, kicking the singe off of her boots while she scrabbled up a wall covered in novelty taxidermy, "or the speeder bay, maybe we can set off a blast and punch through this thing's stomach lining?"

The Sith found herself resting on the head of a terantatek bull, with knees up to her chest. Its horns appeared to have been rhinestoned, a touch that even the Syndicate's scuzziest spice junkie found to be in poor taste. But the vantage would buy her a few minutes of peace, at least.

"Could empty out my arm, too, hope the hex burns through the 'lacc before it burns us."

This was the last time she let Arris pick drinking spots.

Arris Windrun Jerec Asyr

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"With a Jedi - he was able to connect with the creature and convince it to regurgitate us... Either that or it was the street's worth of spice we forced into its blood stream.

"Those are my ideas, anyway. Oh, uh, stay away from the juices - that chit burns!"

Jerec disentangled himself from various cables and splashed down, then hot-footed rapidly to get up on the bar and rinse his feet with beer. Then he fishes out his wallet and transferred 50,000 UC to Arris.

"Giving you credit for one whether or not we find enough drugs aboard to mess with the sarlacc. Jedi never count as a good idea."

"If we can get to the engines," Vestra grunted, kicking the singe off of her boots while she scrabbled up a wall covered in novelty taxidermy, "or the speeder bay, maybe we can set off a blast and punch through this thing's stomach lining?"

The Sith found herself resting on the head of a terantatek bull, with knees up to her chest. Its horns appeared to have been rhinestoned, a touch that even the Syndicate's scuzziest spice junkie found to be in poor taste. But the vantage would buy her a few minutes of peace, at least.

"Could empty out my arm, too, hope the hex burns through the 'lacc before it burns us."

"Engine explosion and speeder bay explosion count as one together. Trihexalon..."

He pondered the idea of setting off a bioreactive weapon of mass destruction in here, and sent her 100k.

"...eh, it's better than Jedi."

 

[Koda Fett]

He craned his gaze over the pit, flailing tentacle arms latching and grasping at the rear of the Hutt caravel in some bid to swallow it whole. Fett grimaced something fierce, avoiding a slow and agonizing death within a great, eternal sarlacc. A shrugging shudder with a groan followed. A shame, he grew somewhat fond of Jerec. As much as the likes of him could grow fond of anyone.

"Hnh," he crouched, squatting on the balls of his feet. There were credits in dragging them out.

Merely needed to think on how.

Dice are just for fun, dw.

 

[Vestra Tane]

"Trihex comes in a little glass vial! 'In a little glass vial?' In a little glass vial!"

Vestra sang, barely audible, as she shimmied across the wall of gauche taxidermy, over to the rows of counterfeit antique weapons, inching towards one of the inexplicably nautical windows. This she kicked out with a slightly digested boot, and thus exposed herself (and the rest of the dining room) to the moist, meaty air of a sarlacc stomach.

Perfect. The perfect start to a perfectly suicidal plan.

She started squirming, next, to squeeze the top half of her body out of the now-broken window, and once that was done, she began fiddling with her arm. It was some small blessing that the dripping digestive juices and generally corrosive atmosphere made getting through the prosthetic's layer of synthflesh easy. All Vestra had to do was scrape her arm's maintenance panel clean, flex the right cybermuscles in the right order...and out popped a tiny little glass tube of toxin-green catastrophe.

She twirled it around in her flesh-fingers for a moment, wistful. This was going to be such a pain to replace...

Ah, well. Better than being digested.

With no more ceremony, the Sith hucked her bioweapon as hard as she could, boosted by a gale of telekinetic wind, towards the walls of her fleshy prison.

Arris Windrun Jerec Asyr Koda Fett