Playing with Fire [vs. First Order]

[inactivechar01]

Location: Nebula, Edge of the Indellian System
Purpose: Get that cortosis cargo
Ship: Carrack-class light cruiser

"We have set the pulsemass generators at where usually vessels from Varonat exit hyperspace to adjust their vector for travel, Captain." Levrin, the first mate, reported standing as an officer a few feet behind the smoking pirate captain Jorel Haas.

"Good." The short man replied having a drag from his cigarette as he looked at his watch. "The convoy will be here soon. Get the gunners on their position."

"Yes, Sir." Levrin nodded as he turned back to leave.

"Alright, set a course to greet them when they come." Jorel raised his voice so the crew could hear his order. His face revealed a smile on his reflection at the viewport.

Time had come, finally, to leave the cover of the nebula and head to where the pulsemass generators were spread out. The ship rocked slightly as the engines kicked in and the Carrack-light cruiser throttled itself forward towards its destination where it would meet the ship carrying the precious cargo.



OOC: I think you guys should be tagged - [member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Ileris Sonn"] [member="Aram Kalast"].

 

[Saffron]

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES
ANOAT SECTOR - GREATER JAVIN
VARONAT SYSTEM
Varonat Biodome

---

Things were running rather smoothly despite the new First Order banner that now lay over Varonat. PharmaTech was busy working with their employees and staying to themselves. As a previous agreement with First Order and Danger Arceneau had been set, The Varonat ATC facilities were left be as Arceneau Trade had no quarrel with the First Order. They were a neutral entity in the larger scope of things.

In order to continue to promote well being between the Trade Conglomerate and that of the First Order, Arceneau Trade would give routine reports on the Sector. They would detail anything amiss or any odd activity, much like the sort one finds with pirates and the like. These were to inform the local First Order navy that had so recently come in the state of trade lane affairs. Of course, this was nothing compared to the wealth of data gathering the First Order can find for themselves, but it gave them information to compare to.

One such report was an increased amount of pirate activity. The Datapacket had been sent to the First Order where it was eventually given to [member="Tyger Tyger"]. What he so would desire to do with that, well... would be entirely up to him.

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Location: Inside a Nebula at the edge of this system I refuse to spell.
Objective: Guarding against pirates and smugglers
Ship: Resurgent-class star destroyer Vindicator.

There was something about the simplicity of nebula's that still amused Carlyle. The way they glowed, and were always pretty colours continued to be an item of personal amusement. It was rather fortunate that First Order command had dealt him this hand, being able to simply observe and report whatever came through. It left the captain with the ability to take in his surroundings, observe what went on around him. However the captains serenity was broken.

"Sir," the scanner officer called, "Sir we've just picked something up."

Carlyle looked at the man, "Size, and where about's?"

"It isn't too large sir, could be Galactic Alliance." The technician reported.

The captain glowered, "Observe it, when it comes closer to us, I want the ship scanned again for make. Then," He turned to the tractor beam operator, "I want you to drag the ship in on my mark."

"Aye sir." The tractor beam operator responded.

"Nonetheless, I want our scanners on him," Carlyle barked, "If he's a smuggler, he may try some kind of rendezvous. It is only then that we will strike, and catch the both of them. Helmsman."

"Yes sir?" The helmsman responded.

"I want you to gently let us stalk that ship, keep him in range of our tractor beam." Carlyle commanded.

 

[Tyger Tyger]

Cloud City, Bespin​

[background=transparent]Headquarters for State-Run Cortorsis Mining Corporation (To be given a better name by management later)[/background]​

Tyger Tyger folded his arms over the carapace adorning his chest. After being bounced from a miner to the desk secretary, and then to the foreman, from the foreman to the shipping’s director, he was getting awfully tired of repeating himself. He was getting awfully tired of scaling the ladder of peons, and minions, and subordinates, rung by karking rung.

His irritation poisoned the room, and the emanation impeded the skinny shipping director’s ability to function. He pulled at his collar nervously.

“We…We, we, we,” he meandered, gathering his thoughts. “We’ve received no reports of piracy. I…I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“Look. Calm down. Reliable source tells us to be advised,” Tyger Tyger pressed his hands down on the surface and leaned forward on the man’s desk, his eyes glowering dubiously. “I’m looking for advising.”

Of course, this did nothing for the manager’s stress levels.

“The shipments…The shipments had been delayed, slightly. We’ve been adjusting the trade routes…,” he took a moment to consider his next words. Not because phrasing was important, but because he was having trouble remembering his vocabulary. “...to accommodate the extended First Order EEZ.”

Suddenly, he had an epiphany – a piece of evidence to clear his name from this hostile interrogator’s investigation. “The first of this week’s shipment should be leaving in an hour. You want I should ring its Captain?”

“Do that,” Milo said, easing off the desk.

[member="Jorel Haas"]​

 

[Lvia]

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility
Bespin

---

The cortosis mining facility on Bespin was one of meager standing. There were others that were of greater output, but at least for Bespin, Browncoat Arms & Industrial did well. Much like with any valuable source within their spread, the conglomerate had distinctive trade agreements with the overarching government that they worked with. One such agreement was that a percentage of the cortosis mined would be granted to the First Order.

They were distributed in quarterly shipments, with the present quarter's tribute to be picked up today. For now, Lvia, a Chiss representative with Arceneau Trade would be facilitating the transfer of the cortosis cargo.

She stood waiting on one of the platforms. Behind her, the massive mining facility would continue it's daily grind to mind and process the brittle ore. It was a dangerous task, which is why droids were the majority of the workforce. Cortosis ore was not something one wanted to treat lightly, let alone mine.

 

[Asharad Graush]

Bespin,
Mining Staging Ground

Tantorian Industries purchased a mine from the First Order. Plenty of credits were save up by the company, primarily selling to the One Sith, it had done so since nearly the beginning of the war with the Galactic Republic. Needless to say, they were well off. Well enough to purchase a large one.

That was part of the reason why A'sharad was on Bespin. Not in the name of the First Order, but in the name of Tantorian business opportunities. Or to close out the business rather.

His job was to oversee the process of setting up the mine.

That was why there were dozens of dropships already on numerous landing pads. There were nearly one hundred Sith Pureblood Zuguruks; the engineers of the Ancient species. Transported directly from Tantorus, they were the ones that were primarily hired by the planet's sole company, while the Massassi caste were the security forces. Indeed, there were just under one hundred security forces provided by A'sharad's company. That gave them a number of nearly two hundred Sith Purebloods.

All of them masked.

Couldn't have signs of Sith wandering about, that would cause a scare, especially since Tantorus was relatively hidden from the Galaxy in the Unknown Regions.

"Foreman," A'sharad said to the appointed Chief Miner. "Direct my people where to deposit their droids." There were even more droids than actual Pureblood personnel. "Have them begin immediately," he ordered.

 

[Tyger Tyger]

Cloud City, Bespin
Headquarters for State-Run Cortorsis Mining Corporation (To be given a better name by management later)

Milo milled around the office, watching the screens. The shipping schedules indicated a history of being down briefly during the reorganization of the Anoat hex, but that same spreadsheet showed a clear movement from Red to Green – the promise of a better week. Much better, as it appeared the vessels were no longer moving to Varonat to collect the pittance of superfoods donated in the past, they were now able to more efficiently be distributed among the planetary bodies on their way to the capital. It was a good thing, too, as the stock market illustrated clear growth for Bespin, as cortorsis-dependent technologies were now able to get a proper market price as security in the hex ensured greater productivity in the miner’s mining.

The shipping bureaucrat would lighten up while on his holocall, the familiarity of the voice on the other end reminding him that he wasn’t just the skinny weenie who withers before authority that he had been only a moment ago. After a few moments, he would hang up, and address Tyger Tyger.

“The Captain says he’s not seen anything, either – outside of the usual interference around Hoth,” the manager let that hang for a moment, before drudging up a bit of optimism. “But that was before…There’s a skiing resort there now. Security’s up. We are not the same prey we were before.”

Tyger Tyger shifted from the wall, moving back toward the desk. The manager shrank in his chair.

“You have the Captain’s number?”

Which wasn't what he was actually saying.

“Yes…uh…um…,” he searched for a writing instrument, a pad of to write on. Quickly, he scribble down a name and the contact signal. “Here you are.”

Tyger Tyger nodded, depositing the info in his pocket. He was considering tagging along with the shipment, but…maybe not.

“You do your Moff a service,” Tyger Tyger diffused the situation, heading toward the door.

“Oh! Tyger…uh…Tyger – “ Milo stopped, poking his head back in the frame. “If it was Arceneau Trade that gave you the tip– You may want to check with them. They have an office not too far from here!”

[member="Jorel Haas"]​

 

[inactivechar01]

Location: Nebula, Edge of the Indellian System
Purpose: Get that cortosis cargo
Ship: Carrack-class light cruiser [Sorry, can't link at work for some reason]

"We've got a blip, Captain." Levrin's voice notified him from behind.

"In this nebula?" Jorel raised an eyebrow as he took another drag from his cigarette. The captain had been carefully watching the colorful nebula from the viewport while he leaned his hands on the rail.

"Yes, Sir."

"Gotta be something really big to pop on our scanners in the thickness of this nebula." He caressed his chin as he thought of their next course of action. There were a few options ahead of him and he had to make a good judgement call. "The First Order aren't joking around. You sure there is no space fauna in this nebula ?"

"Absolutely, Sir, we double checked all records of information of the system beforehand. No fauna."

"Hmm, well, if it's a big fish for an overkill then it would possibly the Order. No one likes showing their guns as much as them." The captain took another drag as he contemplated over what his next course of action should be.

If the blip was not an error and a patrol ship, it would be a massive ship. An unexpected foe at such a place. Apparently they were spending their whole budget on securing frontier areas or important joints of the space lanes. Jorel knew he had to use his ship to his advantage, he had to outplay the possible opponent and get out of this place with the cortosis cargo alive.

"Let's lose them in the nebula. We're smaller, if that blip is true, and also faster. Harder to find in the nebula. Set a multi-point journey through this coordinates and vectors." Haas tapped on his wrist datapad transferring the data from his datapad to the ship's navigator panel. "We'll keep dragging through the nebula, trying to lose them. Up the speed a bit, as well. If it's a big ship and not an error I don't want to go through the whole 'act normal' parade."

"Understood, Captain!"

He took one more drag of his cigarette before finishing it off in the ashtray. Jorel took a look at the watch on his hand and nodded. The journey through the Nebula would be basically going through different points, up and down and eventually would lead them out of the nebula. At the time when the cargo is supposed to exit hyperspace right into the clutches of the Argo.

That is if everything went well.

[member="Tyger Tyger"] [member="Asharad Graush"] [member="Lvia"] [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [The Twin]

 

[Tyger Tyger]

Cloud City, Bespin​

Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility​

Some 30 minutes following his departure from the State-Run site, Tyger Tyger had arrived at Browncoat Arms and Industrial. His stride every bit that of one who owned the place, he marched up to the platform with a clear sense of purpose; like a cop with a right to the inside of your house.

Whistling, perhaps rudely, his pitch cut through the noise of work being done and sought the attention of [member="Lvia"] in an effort to draw her over to a slightly raised surface. Pressing his hand to it, he projected his holocoms device in a wash of squares and swirls in lights, pulling up precisely the Arceneau Trade memo that had been passed to the Trade Ministry, intercepted by [member="Natasi Fortan"], and then passed over to him.

With his free hand, he tapped it with his finger, looking over to the Chiss for explanation.

 

[Asharad Graush]

Bespin,
Mining Staging Ground.

A'sharad's arms were folded across his arms as he towered above those that were originally from the First Order. Pureblood... blood ran through his blood. Because of this, he was taller than many humans, but he still remained with limited features of a Sith Pureblood. Oh well.

The Zuguruks were unloading the ships at this point. There was a certain beauty in watching the efficiency of his distant kin, but it was lost on the First Order's High Colonel. Shrugging his shoulders and turning his head back to the Foreman, the man was saying, "Come, Sir, I'll show you where they're going," and the Sith Hybrid found himself following, and his folded arms collapsed to his sides so that they may clasp in the small of his back a moment later. Crisp and clean was his uniform, always.

"After landing here, they'll follow directions to the mines on the planet. They'll have to direct the droids down there, my people will make sure yours don't actually come in contact with the Cortosis." A'sharad remained impassive as he listened, watching the screen that the Foreman pointed and dragged his finger over. It was a map, obviously, but the directions he was talking about were lost on him. "By the end of the day the mine will officially be yours once your people are in position."

And that was when he responded.

"Good. Thank you for your aide in this matter, and your continued service to the First Order."

With a twist and turn, A'sharad disappeared from the... Whatever that small room was. Probably a monitoring room.

 

[Lvia]

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility
Bespin
[member="Tyger Tyger"]

---

---

With no helmet on, the bright red orbs from the half Chiss hybrid quietly studied the man in front of her. If it bothered her to be whistled over to explain whatever matter he so desired, the stoic like visage of Lvia did not show it. However, she did skim the contents of the hologram and then flicked her crimson gaze to the male.

"My name is Lvia, Arceneau Trade Representative." she extended her hand as a courtesy, keeping things brief and to the point. She had, for some years, been the representative of ATC for the One Sith.

"I see you have the Trade lane reports for the Anoat Sector." she stated plainly. "I do not, however, have the pleasure of knowing whom I'm interacting with."

Behind them, the mine continued on with its production. Workers were steadily working on stacking the fragile cortosis into cargo boxes for shipment.

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

First Order Mining Operations
Cortosis Mines, Bespin

Imperial mining operations on Bespin, not something Valessia thought she'd be sent oversee - then again when you're the new representative. It's your job to run around and oversee everything. The Scion of House Brentioch recently arrived from Varonat, a former pirate world that had gone through several hands over the last several centuries. The current being the Imperial First Order and there she oversaw the production of Aleudrupe berries, while many considered them to be a delicacy - and they were. The Order saw them as something more, when combined with a particular slime of the Morodin population. They created a type of blaster gas, nearly as effective as tibanna, production on Varonat was up and she had been given the tour of the new Imperial Base.

Imperial Operation Base Sarne, or IOB Sarne as it was called there. Sarne was magnificent, well as magnificent as one could be for a jungle base, it, however; was not the planet's main base for military operations on Varonat, no. Imperial Command Base Thrawn was hidden within the mountains of Varonat with tunnels that led throughout most of the complex there. Once more it too was a hallmark of the First Imperial Engineering Corps, she'd been given a sample of the Aleudrupe-produced gas to send to Moff Fortan at once; which meant she dispatched a courier as she was off to Bespin.

Along the way she made note of the listening stations, and areas where they could produce a shadowport or two. Valessia would have to run the route again, though, as she was too busy reading over Bespin's mining reports. Going over the numbers from last quarter and comparing them to this quarter, tracking the flow of credits and the First Order's inventory. Her eyes had gone to scan over the deal with ATC and the First Order, it was established before her time but she still wanted to get a good look at it.

"Lady Brentioch, we've arrived," said a young man dressed in an Imperial First Order uniform that read, 'hospitality services.'

She nodded to him in acknowledgment, "thank you."

Valessia was then escorted from her transported and through the starport's private terminal being put on a private transport to the Cortosis Mining Operations. Cortosis, historically one of the most valuable ores, and for good reason. Rare, fibrous and very brittle it's been woven into body armor, capital ship's hulls and starfighters. It's conductive properties made it resistant to lightsabres, lightsabres would shorten out upon contact - eventually, however, the lightsabre would prevail. Still, crafting it into a mesh to conduct from a blaster bolt was more than useful for the Imperial First Order. More so for Valessia whose company, San Guinem Textum relied on it to craft their own fabrics, which also included lines woven from glistaweb and shell spider silk.

Her transport around Bespin was pleasant enough she took stock of all the mining vessels, the security craft and starfighters making their patrol runs out and starfighters making their patrol runs in. Looking down at her tablet, she pushed her holomessage to Mr. Tyger, who from her understanding handled the overall mining operations here on Bespin. As it stood, he was out of the office and speaking with a representative of ATC. Good, she could meet with him there and speak with both of them at once.

The young man from earlier cleared his throat, "Lady Brentioch." He then gestures as she rises, "I've arranged for the additional security, at your behest, of course."

"Thank you, you do a great service to the Supreme Leader and to Moff Fortan." She compliments him as he escorts her to a small speeder where three troopers and a security agent who looked small in comparison awaited her. "You'll take me straight to ATC's Browncoat Arms and Industrial Mining Facility." She took in a deep breath and exhaled, that was a mouthful and a half to say. She was grateful that the First Order was rather simple with their naming conventions, First Imperial Cortosis Mining, okay - so that was long as well. Valessia shortened it all anyway as she jotted down a note or four on her tablet. "Please," she added, "I need to keep with schedules."

"Of course your Ladyship, right away." The security agent replied as he drove the speeder toward the facility in question.

---

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility

Valessia arrived with the three troopers and her security agent escort, she marched with the poise and composure of a noble. The trade representative at least had the courtesy of checking at the front desk. "Inform your representative and mine, that I am on my way to see them now."

[member="Tyger Tyger"] | [member="Lvia"]​

 

[Tyger Tyger]

Cloud City, Bespin
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility

Tyger Tyger didn’t quite look up from the holoprojection as [member="Lvia"] attempted to introduce herself, instead merely watching her with his eyes. It was overly specific – it was not her name he needed, and he had already gathered her station due to her posture, the indicators (Pictures, office doors, behavior of subordinates) he had passed on his way through. So superfluous was the exchange that he, at first, didn’t recognize the offer for a handshake, letting her hang for several moments. When he finally shook it, it was almost sarcastic, executed with an obvious eyeroll.

His identity?

“Quality Assurance,” he grumbled – again, without sincerity, just loud enough to be heard over the work being done.

It was clear he was going to have to elaborate.

Pointing to the projection of the memo again, he highlighted the To:’s and From:’s to add context to his words.

“This is a report of pirates in the area, published by your parent company, and pushed through First Order Naval Command. Do you have information that could add specificity regarding locations of significant activity, known actors, etcetera? What prompted the message?”

 

[Lvia]

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility
Bespin

---

[member="Valessia Brentioch"] [member="Tyger Tyger"]

"Of course, Ma'am." the young attendant at the front desk would state rather pleasantly. A small tap and click of keys would relay the message over to Lvia so that she would be aware of the woman's arrival.

"Welcome to Arceanu Trade, would you care for a refreshment?" she offered after, unsure if Miz Brentioch would want one now or wait until later if she was going to meet Lvia at this time.

---

A small beep from Lvia's wristcomm would relay the arrival of the First Order Trade representative. Ah. Now that made more sense, Lvia thought to herself.

Once again, her attention drew up towards the scruffy, square-jawed male. Or 'Quality Assurance' Officer.

"That report would detail activity throughout the Anoat Sector," Lvia replied plainly. "May I?" she inquired, pointing to take the hologram in hand to show him where he could find the specific details he so desired.

"As for what prompted it." Lvia would continue, "It bodes a good relationship to be rather open about what reports have been placed throughout the Trade Lanes." her expression was calm, tone, matter-of-fact. Perhaps it was the Chiss in her. Granted, he'd never realize just how young Lvia really was.

"Without the protection of the former Lords of the Fringe or the late Protectorate, piracy activity has risen." she elaborated simply.

"Knowing where the activity is increasing would be beneficial to the First Order." Those red orbs met Tyger's. "Who else but the merchants who travel those trade lanes know better?"

 

[Asharad Graush]

Bespin,
Mining Staging Ground.

A'sharad's ebony cloak snapped in the face of the Foreman obnoxiously, easily his favourite thing about the Officer's uniform as he turned to head back onto the landing pad. Shrugging his cloak off of his back, he shoved it into the hands of the nearest Massassi guard, yes, he just reduced a great warrior to the level of man servant, and he glanced to one of the First Order attendants on the platform. "Bring me the protective gear to survive on the planet," he ordered.

Raising a hand and pushing it through his hair, the Sith Hybrid's spontaneous decision was likely going to make him sick, as a result of being in contact with the cortosis.

Was he truly curious of what his Zuguruks would be doing? Not particularly, but rather, he was attracted to danger, and there was not much else to do on the platform other than stand around and look important.

Although he liked looking important, he was already important in the eyes of his Pureblood kin. Some knew him as his Father's son, the same Father they had watched him carry out of his own house after shooting him with some ridiculous blaster pistol. They respected him for it. They were Sith. It was their way, how else was it meant to work?

Meanwhile, he garbed himself in the protective suit, only wearing the bare minimum underneath so that he maintained his dignity in front of his peers and subordinates.

 

[Artemis Margs]

Location: Just outside of a nebula near a system I refuse to spell.
Objective: Hunt for Red Carracktober.
Ship: Resurgent-class star destroyer Pride of Avalonia.
Post Count. II

While the Vindicator conducted security operations within the nebula, the Pride of Avalonia was dispatched outside of it to transmit clearer signals to Bespin and Dossun in case of Alliance attack. Lieutenant Margs had been left in charge of the Pride while Carlyle conducted a search of the nebula. The lieutenant had in fact just gotten orders from his superior to watch the edge of the nebula for pirates, and Galactic Alliance ships. The lieutenant was on edge, so when his scanning officer jumped, Artemis let our a shriek of surprise.

"What is it!?" The lieutenant asked, blushing bright red.

"We picked up a signature sir." The technician replied, "It just disappeared, but it gives us a good idea of what we're dealing with."

"How large is it?" Margs asked.

"Not large enough to pose a credible threat. I just sent the data down to intel, see what they think it is." The technician said, "We'll have to wait."

Artemis turned to the other crewpit. "Comms, send word to Captain Rausgeber. The ship appears to be jumping in and out of space. It's trying to avoid being found."

"Aye aye sir. Will do." The crewman replied.

The radar officer popped back up, "Sir, according to their records, it appears to be a Carrack-class light cruiser."

"Rather old model they're using." Lieutenant Margs mused, "Shan't be too much of an issue," he added, "I want our TIE's deployed, all to remain in squadron formation. Their orders," he added, "Are not to engage, but to track. Should they locate this ship, they are to radio their position and we'll jump to them. No stone left upturned. We will find this cruiser."

The TIE operator nodded, "Will do sir. All crews are heading to their fighters."

[member="Jorel Haas"] [AKA, the goddamned Doppelganger]

 

[inactivechar01]

Location: Nebula, Edge of the Indellian System
Purpose: Get that cortosis cargo
Ship: Carrack-class light cruiser

Silence had engulfed the bridge of the Argo and Jorel Haas' cigarette smoke lingered through the air slightly before being absorbed into the vents keeping the vessel clean and fresh. Upon the faces of the crew one could see the lines of concentration, after the blip on the scanners earlier had more or less made the crew aware of a possible greater danger than expected.

"Another one, Captain!" The scanners officer startled probably half of the crew with his shout.

"You sure it is not the same ?" Jorel grimaced as he gazed at the scanners officer.

"Double checked the time and coordinates of the other one, it can't be the same one."

"Keep our course, but we will cut it short at this coordinates and adjust our vector like...this." He tapped on his datapad sending the information to the navigator's panel. What he planned was something unexpected. The watch on his hand showed that the time the cargo ship should arrive drew near.

He would take this cargo.


[member="Artemis Margs"] [ Malfoy ]; [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [The Twin]; [member="Tyger Tyger"]; [member="Lvia"]; [member="Valessia Brentioch"]; [member="Asharad Graush"]

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Location: Inside a Nebula at the edge of this system I refuse to spell.
Objective: Hunt for Red Carracktober
Ship: Resurgent-class star destroyer Vindicator.
Post: III

Dozens of TIE fighters now patrolled the nebula, attempting to find the missing ship. For a good fifteen minutes or so, there was radio silence aboard the bridge. The whole crew looked to their captain, tense and concentrating on their duty. "Sir!" The TIE command officer called out, "Sir, Krayt 3 found something, a signal in sector 4.0.28!" The officer called out.

Carlyle turned to the helmsman, "Jump us to that location!" He commanded. The helmsman nodded, and launched the ship to lightspeed within the nebula. Within twenty seconds, the Vindicator had arrived. "Anything on scopes?" the captain asked, "Or scanners?"

"Yes sir, forty degrees to port side, we have them!" The scanning officer called.

"Well then," Carlyle said, "Pursue upon this trajectory, and prepare the tractor beam." The captain then paused, "Don't alert Margs of our find until we capture the bastard this time. Understood?"

[member="Jorel Haas"]

 

[Tyger Tyger]

Cloud City, Bespin​

Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility​

So, it was a general report. He had pulled from whatever he was doing to respond to general report of piracy along an ATC frequented hyperlane. If he wasn’t getting paid anyway, Tyger Tyger might’ve been livid.

“Got it. Thanks,” was all the more Tyger Tyger offered to [member="Lvia"] as she failed to give him exactly what it was he wanted. He considered, briefly, that he may have just been too impatient to ask correctly. It didn’t matter anymore, anyway. He had decided on a course of action.

To be clear, however, he did not blame her (The blame lay on Naval Admin); in fact, the Trade Representative was quite helpful in confirming what he already knew. He could now stop running around, avoid the inevitable.

With a few deliberate strikes upon the holoprojection, he placed a call to the Captain from earlier, and awaited the response, looking periodically to Lvia as, I mean... she was a living thing and not an inanimate object to just ignore as furniture.

He tipped his head, as if pointing with the tip of his nose. “What happened to your neck?” His tone was not entirely tactless. Didn’t really sound curious, either. It was a way Soldiers made chit-chat; an idea he clearly recognized as odd, considering she wasn’t, as far as he could tell, a soldier…

When the Captain picked up, Tyger Tyger would ensure his passage on the first cortosis carrier out.

| [member="Jorel Haas"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] |​

 

[Lvia]

Arceneau Trade Company
Browncoat Arms and Industrial Cortosis Mining Facility
Bespin

---

---

---

[member="Tyger Tyger"]


Lvia barely blinked, the crimson orbs of her eyes studying Tyger with what appeared to be an imperturbable expression. What she next likely was not what the First Order Quality Assurance Officer expected.

"Manacles, by the late Empire's Research and Science Division," she said impassively. "The anomaly of my genetic structure made me a valuable test subject for the betterment of the Imperial citizen. "

She blinked slowly.

"Five years in a Research Laboratory left their marks."

What he didn't know is that Lvia was only six years old. By all accounts, she maintained the average growth of a Chiss and was in her mid teens. She had been born in that Imperial Research and Science Division to be a living blood bag experiment.