Tart-Cart Chronicles: Part I, Blood Money

[Revenchent]

The void was a terribly cold, forbidding place to spend one's morning. You were either freezing to death in the vacuum, or having your melted into so much slag because you looked at the nearest star two seconds too long.

Corin found himself cursing in multiple languages as he navigated this harrowing realm. His mag-boots kept him pinned to the hull of the Tart-Cart IV, though they did little for his balance. The Mandalorian took one shaky step every few moments to find a new precarious perch from where he could view the ship.

"Stupid idea, stupid idea..." Corin mumbled to himself. There was no one to hear him out here. His comm were closed for the moment, and his buy'ce's glowing green visor hid his visage from anyone who might have been a bit too curious.

He would imagine the others debating whether to ditch him out here in the void, and would then remind himself that they would not be getting anywhere without him. Even if they did leave, Lord Cabur would bring them no end of hell until they landed the ship, if it didn't manage to kill them in its rage.. The sub-light engines had shorted out upon exiting hyperspace; the result of a particularly rocky reentry. From what Corin could tell, a few components had been knocked out of place, but the engines were otherwise stable.

He only needed to get to them and work his magic. He took another step, missed the bulkhead, and tumbled onto the face of the craft. His head cracked against the steel, sending stars through his vision.

"Frakkin'..." There was no point in censoring himself out here. With another string of particularly violent curses, Corin wriggled his way to the sub-light engines. He cracked open the access panel, and the problem announced itself immediately. One of the power couplings had shorted out. Fortunately, Corin had thought ahead, and wasted no time in replacing it with a new one.

"Looks like we blew a coupling," he keyed in through the comms. "All fixed now." He hopped back a few steps -- a safe enough distance from the engines. "Give her a start. You might have to kick her around a little. She's a mean old schutta; doesn't like moving when she gets comfy."

 

[Astrid]

Seated in one of the pilot seats was Astrid, ensnared in an obnoxiously hued fur blanket. She had a bemused expression upon her face, one that foretold just how smug she felt. The jump from hyperspace had seen quick work to the vessel and preventing it from closing in on their destination. She had had her suspicions, and to hear them confirmed was all but satisfying.

"Told ya'," she replied over the com. "Ready up, old bird." From within the cockpit, Astrid went through the motions of getting the craft up and running. "All or nothin'," she mused, hesitant only for a moment to stare at the console with a hopeful expression. Then, she at last made the attempt to fire the engines. They roared to life, eager to please. The vibrant hum was steady, consistent.

"Ha! Well done, Corine. Come back inside so we can get a move on. Also, didn't have to kick her. All she needed was a lady's tender and loving touch," came Astrid's teasingly excited voice. "See ya' inside."

Turning from the controls, the woman rose from the chair and deposited the blanket in it. With a roll of her shoulders and the stretching of her limbs, she let out a grunt and grinned. The trip had been easy, all things considered, even though the circumstances that had brought it to life had not been. It had certainly been unexpected, but when the excitement had died down and found them left to their own devices Astrid had devoured the opportunity to think in solitude.

There was, after all, decisions to be made. The were within proximity to their destination and she had still not rested. A yawn threatened to separate her jaw, causing it to pop audibly. In a feeble attempt to hide it, she covered it with a hand. Turning her back to the cockpit, Astrid slid open the door and poked her head out.

Gray eyes looked about, observing the interior before her. If the others weren't awake by now, they would be soon. Shaking her head to fight off another yawn, she closed the cockpit door and turned back to the front. Deliberately slow, she made her way back to the chair and gathered up the fur. Draping it over her shoulders, she fell back into the pilot chair and closed her eyes. A few minutes of shut eye would do no one any harm, certainly.

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris was sitting in one of the chairs in the common room, the furniture was nothing too impressive, but it was comfortable enough. He was flipping through a datapad, looking at the news. He waited patiently while Corrin came back in from the void beyond the thin durasteel walls. Tyris was usually the first to wake up, his military training had irreversibly made that so, 6 am every day off. Missions were a different story, Tyris would operate on as much or as little sleep as required by a mission, when you are a sniper, sometimes you have to sit still for hours, maybe even longer, sleep was secondary to the mission.

He was normally the first person to wake up, the hotshot pilot girl looked like she had not gotten sleep in years. She was nearly falling asleep when he last saw her, as far as Tyris knew everyone else was sleeping fine, or at least managed their sleep deprivation better than she did.

Corrin was a strange man at that. Mandalorian almost definitely, hell he even walked out into space in a set of mandalorian armor. Tyris had seen Mandalorian armor before, just not this close. Normally they were at the end of his gunsight rather than working with them, this was an interesting opportunity. Tyris knew his history, and he knew that Zenith Prime owed its existence to the Mandalorians, though he did not know which clan it was, Tal something, knew it was something like the planets capital city's name, but that was the extent of his knowledge.

The Jedi was an enigma to Tyris, he did not speak to her much, mostly due to the fact that he did not see Miralukans that often. He knew all of them saw in the force or something, Tyris could care less how they saw, as long as they had something to contribute to their collective goal of escaping Naboo.

For now though Tyris would just sit in his chair, and read his datapad, who knows? Maybe something interesting would happen?

[member="Astrid"]
[member="Corin Tal'verda"]

 

[Saran Drast]

To say that her eyes opened wasn't exactly accurate. Still, the Force poured out of her as they exited hyperspace. Part of her wondered how she ever woke up without that feeling. Oh yeah. Lots of alarms.

Letting a small yawn split her mouth, the woman sat up. Where was she? The whole room was wrong. Sighing she stood up, casting her mind outwards. Oh, yeah. This mess.

Her form crumpling back down onto the bed, the woman let out a long groan. The thought crossed her mind of simply leaving them once they reached Bothuwai, but she wouldn't have the money to get to the Inner Rim from Bothuwai. She was stuck here, for now. And with luck, they would end up going to the places she needed to be. Who knew. Still, she needed the info in the old Templar base. Another groan escaped her as she forced herself up, settling the mask into place before securing the straps. She really wasn't looking forward to this.

 

[Revenchent]

Lord Cabur was the first to greet Corin. The Strill bounded up to its master, its tongue lolling out of its mouth at it reached up with sharp claws. It dragged them down Corin's legplate, and its maw parted with a quiet yawn, excitement clear in its expression. Corin reached down to scratch the hunting beast behind the ears and checked his chrono. They would have most of the day's light remaining once they arrived on Bothuwai.

"Never doubted you," Corin fired back, his voice scratching through his helmet's comm. He reached up to remove his buy'ce, but hesitated. The familiar comfort his HUD provided was something he was not entirely willing to give up just yet. With a sigh, he dropped his arms down to his sides and clicked his tongue. Cabur responded to the unspoken command instantly, rising up onto its feet to stand at Corin's side. Like the ghost of his father, Corin strode down the halls of the Tart-Cart, the eerie green glow of his visor announcing his presence before any words could.

He arrived at the cockpit moments later. Grinning behind his mask, he clapped a hand on the back of Astrid's chair and said, "See that?" He gestured toward the world below. It was covered in sprawling city-scapes that were broken up by large patches of greenery. "Bothuwai. Used to be the capital of the Confederacy. My father lived in the biggest city."

Lord Cabur settled into the chair alongside [member="Astrid"] and mewled. Corin acknowledged his companion with a tilt of his head. "So did Lord Cabur. This world's got more secrets than most, and you can find answers for almost anything here."

He paused, "Take us in. Maybe we'll arrive before the others wake up."

[member="Saran Drast"], [member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Astrid]

"Never doubted you," were the words that broke her momentary rest. Gray eyes opened abruptly, taking in the room about her. In the short amount of time she had allowed herself, Astrid had tipped her head to her shoulder and gotten a few quick, fleeting moments of sleep. It was enough to revitalize her for the moment.

Corin's entrance to the cockpit and his hand upon her chair caused her to twist her spin, tilt her head, and stare up at the illuminated helmet with an arched brow. The woman did not stare at him for long, following the direction of his gesture towards the window before them. She eyed the world with undisguised interest. She'd read about it in her youth, but she had never had the chance to tour it, until now.

The mewl from Lord Cabur sounded, startling Astrid from her awe. She stared at the Strill with wide eyes and parted lips. "What is this?!" she exclaimed. "Nevermind Bothuwai, this guy's pretty cool. Is he yours? Can I touch it?"

She knew it was probably best to make their descent sooner rather than later, but the creature beside her chair was far more interesting for the moment. As she studied the Strill, unknowing that it was, in fact, Lord Cabur. Absently, she drew away the fur from her shoulders and gathered up the mass of her hair and began to work it into a braid.

"Bothuwai seems to have a fair bit of history when it comes to your family. I suppose a place with as many secrets, as you say, would be very useful. You mentioned Lord Cabur earlier. Will he be joining us or is he asleep like the others?" Astrid inquired, thoughtfully.

All the same, she turned away from Lord Cabur and got to work with guiding the ship inward towards their destination.
[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Saran Drast"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Saran Drast]

Saran sighed as she stepped out the room, walking past the old man without a word. She didn't have anything to say to him. Not now, at least. Making her way into the cockpit, the Jedi watched as the Strill settled down next to the other woman. A small smile crossed her face as the other woman petted the animal. At least it wasn't trying to bite them. The thing was powerful, she could tell. She wondered how many of them it could take down if it's master decided to turn on them. Between the old man and the girl, she didn't like her chances. Still, she doubted that it would come to that. Corin seemed nice enough, for a Mando. They should be fine.

"Unidentified YV-929, this is Bothuwai Tower. Please state your name and intent." The voice, which sounded like it belonged to an older man, but the reasoning was clear; They needed to know where to send the ship.

Or whether they needed to blow it out of the sky.

[member="Corin Tal'verda"] [member="Tyris Hayes"] [member="Astrid"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris sat there for awhile, before realising that they had come up upon bothawui. got up, grabbed his cane and started hobbling over towards the cockpit to get a good look at the world from orbit. He walked in and saw that the mandalorian and Ms. Hotshot Pilot were standing around talking about something. He could only assume it was the strill that he had seen around.

"Bothawui, it has been said that almost every secret in the galaxy runs through here once or twice. I would be hard pressed to prove them wrong. If you need something done with information, you get it done at Bothawui." He said.

Tyris had spent a decent amount of time on Bothawui working for the ZI in the short time it existed, he was stationed here as a sniper for diplomatic meetings, he made sure nothing went wrong.

Then the message went through, and it wanted to know why they were there, Tyris knew that this was not good.

"I think one of you two should answer that, Corrin, or you Ms. Hotshot."

[member="Saran"]
[member="Astrid"]
[member="Corin Tal'verda"]Drast

 

[Revenchent]

Lord Cabur enjoyed the attention as any proper Strill would. Corin kept the creature disciplined, and so constant showering love was not always in the cards. The Strill sidled up alongside Astrid, mewleing and grumbling for further affection. Corin watched the display with obvious amusement, a hint of a laugh to his words. "He is mine, and he is a Strill." The Mandalorian paused as she asked as to Lord Cabur's situation. It occurred to Corin that he had never specified who Cabur actually was.

"You're speaking to him right now. Say hello, Cab'ika." The Strill made a noise that might have been a bark. Corin chuckled and settled into the chair Lord Cabur had previously occupied, the Strill hopping up into his lap. He turned slightly to wave a hand at Saran as she came up into the cockpit, and shook his head as Tyris spoke.

"You're right. The Spynet used to be based out of here. Not too sure now. Maybe you can check for us, old man. They had one of the old brothels on the payroll, or so my buir said. I'm sure you could charm your way in and find out for us." Corin joked, his playfulness obvious in his tone. Then a voice came through the comm, and he was all business.

"Tart-Cart-Mark-Four, coming in for refuel and resupply. We intend to remain a few days to enjoy some shore-time. You can file us down under tourism, if you need a specific category." His voice was steady and respectful. It was an act he had practiced a hundred times in the village -- if they checked the Tart-Cart's registration, then it might help him wing through this. "Arriving from Naboo," he added, moving to transmit their previous coordinates to the flight control. It was unlikely anyone here had heard of a theft taking place as far out as Naboo, but it was possible.

Corin keyed off the comm so his voice would not be heard, and said, "If this goes wrong we're going to need to bug out pretty quickly. Keep yourselves strapped in."

[member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Saran Drast"], [member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

Astrid pet the Strill with obvious delight, and laughed when it demanded more attention from her. "Well, isn't that a surprise," she exclaimed, understanding that the creature before her was the aforementioned family friend. She had expected a humanoid, not a creature such as the one that left her to climb into it's owner's lap. There was a relief in known that she had been wrong. However, she knew nothing about the species, and as such she could not shake (nor did she make an attempt to do so) the feeling that Lord Cabur was just as deadly, or more so, than he would have been if he had been what she had expected. Yet to decide if it was a good, bad, or neutral thing, she watched it with interest, and only turned her head to acknowledge Saran and Tyris after several moments had passed.

"I hope the two of you slept well," the woman managed to state, after the comm went off, low and a nod of her head.

As Corin took care of the communications between Bothuwai, Astrid bunched up the fur blanket and draped it over her knees, straightened in her chair, turned it towards the control panel, latched in the security belt, and grinned.

"Someone grab Co. I can do it solo, but assistance isn't always a bad thing," Astrid directed, gesturing to the co-pilot seat with a flick of her wrist. "I'll have us in before you can say Pseudopseudohypoparathyroidism in four different languages.

"...And... Tart... Cart? Really? Is that really necessary?"


[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]
[member="Saran Drast"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Tyris nodded to Corrin, before speaking.

"My contact was in the spy net back in the day, he still has a sizable network. He is the only person i trust for information related duties, i trust that he gets the job done." Tyris said to Corrin

Tyris then turned to see that Ms Hotshot was a bit more open to a conversation with Tyris in the room, if not that she was atleast not trying to kill him as she had done earlier.

"I slept okay, about as well as i normally do at least. But on the matter of my contact... He won't do anything for free, he owes me quite a few favors, but that won't cut it for this, this is a coverup, they don't come cheap. We will probably need to do quite a few favors for him in all likelihood." Tyris continued.

[member="Astrid"]
[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Saran Drast"]

 

[Saran Drast]

There was quiet at the other end of the radio for a moment, almost as if the man on the other end was surprised. "Copy that, Tart-Cart-Mark-Four. Please stand by." There was a small click, and then silence. Saran stared out the view port for a moment, seeming lost in thought. Her head seemed to move, watching the stars as she spoke. A large frown crossed her face. One of her hands reached out, pointing to an empty part of space.

"Something's there." Her face scrunched up, as if she was studying something. "I can't tell what."

Her hand lowered, and she walked out of the cockpit. Sitting down on the floor, she threw her mind to whatever was there. Hello there. Someone was there, where she had thought. And just as quickly, they disappeared. Well, crap. That was bad.

In the cockpit, the comms crackled. "Tart-Cart-Mark-Four, you have been directed to Docking Bay 73. Once you land, stay inside your vehicle. We will be with you shortly."

[member="Corin Tal'verda"] [member="Tyris Hayes"] [member="Astrid"]

 

[Revenchent]

"Whatever you say cowboy," Corin mumbled as he settled into the co-pilot's chair. Lord Cabur hopped up into his lap. It would have normally caused problems, but the Strill knew to sit low when they were flying. Corin permitted his presence, and began to angle the ship toward the world below. "I didn't name him," he added toward Astrid, "But it's a good name. A fitting name." Lord Cabur made a low rumbling noise in response, as if it approved of the compliment.

Corin hesitated for but a moment as Saran spoke. He did not have enough experience with the force to truly understand it, nor did he put much stock in whatever it was she perceived, but he was not stupid enough to discount it entirely. Absentmindedly, he turned the ship's sensors toward the section of space she had indicated. As he expected, nothing popped up on the oddly sensitive sensor array. Whatever Saran had felt was no longer there.

"I think the force is screwing with you. It's supposed to be alive, right? Maybe it's having a little bit of fun." he mused, reaching over to key on the comm pad, "Copy that. We're making our descent now."

Pleased that they weren't being shot at for flying a stolen vessel, Corin leaned back in his chair and shot Astrid a look. "What in Corellia's Nine Hells did you say there?"

[member="Saran Drast"], [member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

So, the official name was Tart-Cart. With a roll of her eyes, Astrid snorted. She made it clear that the name was rather obnoxious and ridiculous, at least by her opinion.

To Tyris, Astrid turned. "Will he accept credits over favors? Easier to pay off debts before they even have a chance to become debts," the woman stated, thoughtfully.

Saran's statement threw her off, confusing her but she could not dwell on it for long. Instead, her attention was drawn to the co-pilot seat. Then, Astrid laughed at Corin's reaction, her head tipped back. She had intended to confuse, and if not at least get some reaction out of some one. Corin had taken the bait and had fallen prey, giving her the benefit of amusement. A hand came to her collar as she regained control over herself, then wiped a tear from her eye.

Content with herself and looking rather smug about it, the woman joined her co-pilot in guiding the Tart-Cart down to port. "Oh, nothing," she mused, happily as she turned her focus upon the control panel. "I'll tell you when you're older."

"In any case, what's our plan when we're down on the ground? Wait for them to come and play it safe or are we going to do our own thing?"


[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Saran Drast"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

Astrid intregued Tyris, she seemed to throw money around without actually giving any evidence that she had it, or any signs on where it came from. She acts like a noble of some sort, yet she refuses to tell the rest of the crew anything about her past life so it was impossible to tell.

"In this case... No he probably wont accept money, not from me anyway, and especially not from some random person he has never met before. Anyway... you know Ms. Hotshot. You throw money around like it is of no object, yet you have failed to elaborate on how or where you got it, i dont think of pilots/bounty hunters having the sort of weight of money that you are throwing around, do you mind elaborating?" Tyris said.

Tyris hoped that she did not react by trying to kill him for what was a very simple question. He asked her name, and she attempted to kill him, so he didnt have high hopes in that respect. He just wanted to know the person who was flying the ship he was stuck on a little bit better than just knowing that she despises him for his actions. That is literally the only defining character trait that he could tell at the moment, he hoped to change that. If anyone asked about Tyris' history he would proudly tell them about his life in the service, the injury that left him disabled, and almost anything else they wanted to know, all they would have to do was ask.

The girl seemed to closely guard her personal history as some sort of personal treasure, something Tyris did not understand in the slightest. Tyris would continue probing her to see if he could get any sort of personal history, just to better understand her at the very least, she was extremely strange and a personal history would help him understand that strangeness a little bit better.

[member="Astrid"]
[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Saran Drast"]

 

[Saran Drast]

Bothuwai Spaceport
Docking Bay 73
Observation Deck

The older man sat in a chair, leaning back from the radio. "Well, this should be interesting. Nat, did you send the message to the Mayor?" he asked, the old, broken Bothan staring into the head of a polished cane. "This could end poorly."

"He has been alerted. I asked him to handle this with the utmost discretion." A human woman replied, running her hand through her chestnut hair. "You're sure about this?"

"What other idiots would name a ship THAT? It has to be him." A sigh escaped his lips. This was a ship he hadn't seen in forever. The owner had died some ten years ago, and now it came out of hyperspace from Naboo? Something was up. He hated it when that happened.

Aboard the Tart-Cart-Mark-Four

Quiet, Saran watched the surroundings as she slowly stood. What ever it was, she had lost it. Returning to the cockpit, she gave a small frown. "We're trying to not draw attention to ourselves. Why on earth would we want to ignore them and run off.?" She let the question hang for a moment before turning to the old man. "How do you plan on contacting this friend of yours?"

[member="Corin Tal'verda"] [member="Tyris Hayes"] [member="Astrid"]

 

[Revenchent]

Corin gave [member="Astrid"] a grunt in reply. His thoughts were focused on landing the ship, rather than banter. Lord Cabur curled up against his chest as the vessel dipped below the planet's atmosphere. It shook somewhat as gravity took hold over the void of space, but the descent was otherwise uneventful. Corin monitored the ship's statistics as they broke through the cloud-cover. Everything was green, or as green as it could be given the vessel's prior treatment.

It was mid-day on Bothuwai, and the sun had just begun its slow descent below the distant horizon. The capital city was lively as ever, with streams of peeders and dedicated starships bobbing and weaving through the skylanes. Corin navigated them with ease, though he left the majority of the piloting to Astrid.

"The old bucket still moves," he mused, sounding pleased. "I was worried she would have difficulty transitioning from the void into the upper atmosphere, but I'm reading everything here as clear."

It was heartening to know the Tart-Cart was still her old self. She was hardy, just as her owner had been. It would take more than a few months of neglect to crush her spirit. "I'm a bit curious myself." Corin muttered in agreement with Tyris. "Not running a Strill skinning business back home, I hope? Aruetiise pay a lot of credits for their hides."

Lord Cabur's head perked up at that, his ears folding back against his head in disdain. Corin snickered and raked the creature with his fingers. "Kidding, Cab'ika. There's the starport just ahead." He paused, glancing back at Saran. "Always have a bolthole, even if it makes you look like a di'kut when you use it. Better to be chased than killed, I always say."

The port's doors opened with a low hiss. The Tart-Cart would slowly come to a landing in a solitary hanger bay. Corin glanced out from the viewport to see the hanger before they hit the ground, but the descent was too chaotic to make much out aside from a few slow-moving shapes.

"Welcome to Bothuwai."

[member="Tyris Hayes"], [member="Saran Drast"], [member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

Astrid ignored all but the Tart-Cart's data screens, it's controls, and the view beyond. She had never been to Bothuwai, but had always had an interest in it. In the last few years it had become increasingly more tempting to seek out. To view the planet was one thing, but to witness it's beauty from within it's atmosphere was a different experience entirely. It was hard to not appreciate it, especially when it had always been her favorite part of travel.

With Corin's navigation to guide, Astrid fulfilled the remainder of piloting duties with half-attention. "You worry too much about her. She's a good girl," Astrid said, distracted. "Of course everything is clear. The jump from Hyperspace was just a hiccup."

The rest of the conversation was ignored, half-intentionally. The descent demanded focus and the questions about her warranted ignorance for the time being. Pointedly, she kept her attention trained upon bringing the Tart-Cart down to land. Only when the ship was secure upon the ground did Astrid tear her focus away from the console.

"Inheritance," she said in a simple and dismissive tone as she flexed her fingers, curling and curling them. As she withdrew her gloves from her pack and began to pull them on, she grinned at Lord Cabur.

"No, I don't run a skinning business. Even though I'm sure it does pay well. I wouldn't have the heart to kill such a cute little guy. Can't get a skin without skinning," Astrid stated, turning her chair and leaning forward, anchoring her elbows to her knees.

She looked at Lord Cabur for a few more moments before glancing at Saran and Tyris. "Corin's right. There's nothing wrong with having an escape route ready in case things go sour. Also, old man. I really think you ask far too many questions. It really isn't any of your business how I have what I have. All you need to know is that I have it and I'm willing to put my resources to use."

"And... Who said anything about Bounty Hunting?"


[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Saran Drast"]
[member="Tyris Hayes"]

 

[Tyris Hayes]

"Who mentioned bounty hunting? Your actions did." Tyris said. "I have been learning about war longer than most of you have been alive, fighting in it since you were toddlers, I know a lot about different types of combatants. The first thing that stood out to me was your obscure weapons skills, i.e knife throwing. Normally the only soldiers I see practicing obscure weapons like that are bounty hunters, assassins, and occasionally mercenaries. Tyris continued. "Now knowing your disdain for killing people for money, I made a leap of faith and assumed you were a bounty hunter."

Tyris then leaned against the side of the cockpit wall staring down at the planet. It was quite pretty, Prettier than he remembered it, but pretty none the less. Tyris' first objective was to get himself a better gun than the service blaster he had on him, he needed a sniper, something more within his comfort zone. Then he would go meet with his contact, which thinking about it sounded a bit like the guy over the intercom, but then again, a lot of older Bothans sounded the same, wasn't anything to worry about really.

[member="Astrid"]
[member="Corin Tal'verda"]
[member="Saran Drast"]

 

[Saran Drast]

Bothuwaii Spaceport
Docking Bay 73
Observation Deck

As the Tart-Cart-Mark-Four landed, the old man stood, slowly, and began to walk towards the door. He wanted to meet the crew of this ship. Whoever they were, they had some explaining to do. Turning to the woman, he frowned. "You lead."

"What?" The shock in her voice was apparent. staring for a moment, her face displayed her question before even uttering it. "Why?"

"I'm in charge of the tower. Not anything else." A sigh escaped the Bothan, and he leaned on the wall. "Beyond that, these people, whomever they are, will probably recognize me. I want to make that difficult." Flashing a mock smile, he continued down to meet the ship once it landed.

Aboard the Tart-Cart-Mark-Four

"Even so, we don't want it to be too obvious." The Miraluka replied with a near-practiced calm as she listened to Corin. "It'll make it clear we're running from something." She watched the pair walking down from the observation deck, suspicion crossing her mind for a moment. Hmm.

"You never answered my question, Tyrus." She added. "How do you expect to find your friend? It's a big planet."

"Tart-Cart, prepare to be boarded" The voice over the intercom was definitely a different one. It was younger, and there was a somewhat angry growl. From the boarding ramp, there was a barely audible muttering, and then they were aboard. First, a young, well-dressed Bothan man, carrying himself like a man of importance. Flanking him were two guards, both in armor. To his left, a human woman helped an old, aged Bothan onto the ship. "Who are you?"

[member="Corin Tal'verda"] [member="Tyris Hayes"] [member="Astrid"]