The Long Run [Ivy]

[Sarge Potteiger]

The man barely moved, even as her hands found his helmet. His sentinels barely responded either, because they didn't need too - a snake-like creature began curling out from up in the wiring, it's sinuous body extending to nearly three meters in length. It hung, effortlessly, fangs bared, waiting for a moment to pounce.

But it wasn't a snake, and if she knew anything of the Vong she'd recognize an amphistaff. Which, likely, made this man that much more confusing to her. These weren't beasts you could just find and pick up, turning them into a personal weapon. They had to be all but taken at birth and bonded to their owner.

"I fail to see what surprise has to do with respect...", he begins, voice level, quiet. But it was clear he was abundantly serious, and the breach of his personal space was arousing a none-to-subtle anger in that usually jovial voice. "...there is a fundamental difference between respect and being startled, the foremost of which is that one is a mental response to an unexpected situation and the other is an intangible currency much like trust."

Leaning forward, she'd find his eyes visible behind the T-visor, their black gaze boring into her. The brown was gone and had been for some time - he'd just taken to contacts for a little out of shame. But he'd gotten tired of them, and the brown had gone back to black. A lingering remnant of his time on Dagobah.

"But don't you dare," he adds, voice now a dangerous snarl, "ever tell me that I have no idea what you've been through because you've no idea what I've been through. I didn't take this job to have a pissing contest over whose life was harder, but trust me, I'd win. ."

This time his voice dropped, although it remained clear.

"Twice I've strode upon the ash-wastes of worlds whose populations had been literally evaporated from orbit - one by a planet cracker and the other by orbital bombardment. I've nearly died more times than I care to count, and was the personal assassin of a man hellbent on changing galactic politics during the Dark Age for nearly four centuries; all because I had to survive. I've lost not just one, but two of the women I've loved the most and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I've never seen my home, because the home I know was implanted in me at some point when I was little. I don't know where I'm from, I don't even know if my name is my name. All I know is I'm real good at killing things."

He shook his head a little, scoffing. "Now you're going to release me, or this is going to get a lot worse, and your toy from the Aing-Tii won't help you."

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Ivy was aware of the creature raising to bare in her direction. She didn't care. She didn't care that his eyes were black, she didn't care that he was growing angry with her. She'd been struck unwittingly, and it had been by his metaphorical hand. She had every right to be angry.

"I'm not afraid of you or your anger," her eyes remained level with his, "and I know you're not afraid of mine. I'm not here to play who had the harder life, frankly I don't give a feth, I'm too old for those games. You've had a hard life, harder than mine, and I'm real sorry to hear that and I'll respect you for what you give me at face value." Curious how this had suddenly become all about him. That hadn't been the point.

She didn't release him, not yet, "I won't pry for things that you don't offer. It's your right to keep those secrets of yours and it's my right to keep mine. Don't you dare tell me my life and my experiences and my emotions are any less valuable than yours. Who are you to decide those things?"

Frowning, her hurt was clear, and she was all out of anger now. Ivy was not an angry woman, not really. There was one person in the galaxy she kept those feelings for and it wasn't this man. Perhaps she had mistaken him for someone who might've cared. Whatever the case, she released him finally, smoothly drawing gloved hands from the helmet and suddenly looking very tired. With a slow, tempering breath, she stood back, looking around as though she wasn't exactly sure how it had gone quite that far and uttered an apology to him. Because, well, someone had to apologize and it probably wouldn't be him.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Then don't start the game.", he replies calmly. "By omission, saying I don't know what you've been through carries with it the connotation that, well, your life is harder than mine and I should take pity on you. At that point there is, typically, only one response. So don't treat me like a child."

But despite his quick rise to rage, his anger was gone just as quickly. It always replaced itself with feelings of guilt and sorrow. He hated being so quick to rise to bait, but it was a part of him he couldn't rid of him; it was as much a part of him as the color of his skin and hair. It wasn't going away.

He just had to live with it.

"And do me another favor, and don't get mad at me for basically doing the same thing to you that you did to me."

With that, the Amphistaff closed it's mouth, although it still hung lazily from the tangle of wiring that allowed Sarge to easily give commands to his vessel, especially now that they were breaching the atmosphere.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

"I'm not mad," Ivy replied bluntly as she stepped away, "and I -" she stopped there. This was getting ridiculous.

The woman scowled, her back to him as she made way for the bridge entrance, "Thanks... for the help with the pirates." Yes, that was a much better note to leave it all on. The Merc strode out through the door, happy to have the short hiss of metal between herself and that name. Hands balled into fists she headed back down the length of the ship to join the Captain and her charges. Everyone seemed settled in well enough and happy once she informed them they were entering Maramere atmosphere.

Ivy took an empty seat, leaning her head back against the rest and closing her eyes against the shuddering of the ship as they passed through the atmosphere.

She had to stop being so friendly with people, things were starting to catch up to her, but damn it all if she hadn't found some weird sort of kindred spirit.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

The shipmaster gave a simple nod of his head before his attention returned to the viewport and their descent, knowing already that she was going to leave. A hiss told him the door had opened, and the faint click of a lock sliding into place told him that the bridge was secure. It was a relatively slow and stable descent, taking them the better part of an hour to complete.

Still, he managed to pull in about a half-kilometer off the short of the local starport, hovering some hundred meters above the crystal clear waters of the oceanic resort planet. "You may return to your vessel." Chimed a cheery, feminine voice that was certainly an automated command.

He sent a message to the pilots for when they managed to strap themselves in again. It was simple and direct.

Break the seal as you may - you'll find it's a short trip to your destination. May the Force be with you.

Once the shuttle was clear, the autoturrets would retract... and the droids would go back to patrolling the lonely corridors of the ship with only one soul aboard.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Prisoner collected from the holding block, the Merc followed the group back into their ship and sat the Pirate down in the very back, wrists and ankles secured by shackles. As the shuttle pulled away Ivy stood herself off to the side, watching the waters slide beneath them through the forward viewport.

"Yeh find out what you were looking after there Miss Hazel?" the Captain's voice rang over her personal comm link.

"More than I bargained for, actually," she replied. Ivy couldn't help the tired sigh that escaped her.

"I shoulda offered you a cigar," he said, chuckling.


Soon enough they were flying in over the spaceport and touching down upon a landing pad where a detail of Maramere officials met them to take the Prisoner. Ivy gladly handed him over but was stopped before she could take her leave.

"Hazel Scheler?" one of the officials looked her over, "You need to come with us."

"You don't need me to process him," the woman narrowed her eyes, "What's this about?"

"This is concerning a separate matter. In particular the presence of an illegal beast on your ship."

"What," she began, tilting her head as she eyed him, "do you mean?"

There was no way for them to know about her 'beast' unless...

The official motioned to the waiting speeder and with a deep frown and a grunt she begrudgingly got in. This couldn't be good.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge knew everything that happened on his ship, but once the shuttle was gone, he himself began prepping the vessel to break atmosphere. A much quicker process than reentering since you didn't need to worry too much about burning your shields out. Fingers moving silently over the buttons on the arms of the chair, he felt the rumble of the engines deep within his chest.

Giving a content sigh, he watched the departing speck of the shuttle as it lowered itself to the starport.

Sighing, this time in exasperation, his eyes lingered on the hump of the island, nestled as it was among the gently lapping waves of the ocean. Wetting his lips, he shakes himself from his reverie, whatever had been on his mind now forgotten. Giving a wordless command, the vessel turned and the engines whined.

Space called.

So did Corellia. Home.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

The tangle at the spactport where the Egris sat had been nothing less than an utter headache. Ivy's new pet had somehow managed to open the cargo bay door and escape, though it hadn't gone far when port authority happened upon it. They arrived to find the creature perched atop her ship, snarling at anything that dared come too close.

Ivy was fairly certain the only thing that kept them from shooting it was the band of black leather around its neck. Simply put, you didn't just shoot someone's pet unprovoked.

In the end they couldn't fine her because the beast luckily caused no damage to anything but her own property. She took her payment for her Guard duty and said goodbye to the officials. Getting the tuk'ata hound back in her ship was more of a challenge than she would have liked, but eventually he went and finally she made her ascent back into the stars.

"Real cool, Lye," Ivy said as she piloted the ship around to the hyperspace lane, "that stop was almost worthless cause of you. And you tore your bandages off, that's real kind of you. Glad to be appreciated."

The hound looked up from it's lounging position in the aisle behind the cockpit looking entirely pleased with itself. He yawned and began panting.

"You can't do that on Naboo, do you hear me? The people there are way too nice and I'd hate to have to shoot you in front of them."

Liiiiiiiiiiii-en. He rumbled, then flopped over for a nap, watching her lazily out of one eye..


Some time later The Egris fell out of hyperspace in orbit over the planet Naboo. While waiting for clearance to enter the atmosphere from the port authority she pulled out the datapad she'd received from the man on Tatooine whom she now knew as Preacher. On it was information to an armorer, one that she hoped might be of use in fixing some cracks in her second skin. She was lament to take the suit off, worried to lose even a single piece of her history, but if it meant improvement of what would now be considered an antique ... well, she could make that sacrifice for a few days.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge himself had already come to Naboo and was docked in one of the many orbital stations, refueling his vessel for the trip up Rimma Trade and then the Corellian Run to, well, Corellia. It was hard to fathom going down to the planet, however. He had a home down there, true, but if he checked on it... people might figure out who he was.

He didn't need that. He didn't want that.

He wasn't sure why he was afraid of it, though.

So he sat, alone, in the chair on his bridge, wires connecting him with the vessel even though, well, he wasn't doing anything. The runner was sitting connected to a station, engines off. He hadn't even gone aboard to get food. Seeing people wasn't what he wanted to do. It wasn't what he wanted to do at all.

So he continued to sit, ignoring the pinging that told him a new ship had come out of hyperspace nearby. No, it was just his thoughts and himself. That was it.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

"Your ship's not cleared for entry," the Port Authority finally shot back, causing the woman to jump slightly. She'd been sitting in a lull of silence for nearly fifteen minutes, idly perusing a small leather-bound journal.

She sat up, depressing the comm link, "What do you mean not cleared? I just flew in on a ship from Maramere."

"Your ship isn't registered with the Protectorate. We'll need you to dock at station 3 for a quick search."

The woman frowned, "Search?"

"Standard procedure, safety protocol."

"Very well," she sighed. There was nothing for it, best to comply and get it done with quickly than to make a scene. The Egris fluidly moved to the aforementioned docking station, settling down only two spots over from The Melancholy Hill. Ivy went about shutting down the engines and watched from her pilot's seat as a small group of Port Officials passed by a wall of glass below.

"Get up, Lye. Company."

The tuk'ata issued a grunt.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge had slipped a backdoor into the Protectorate systems, made sure that he wouldn't get harassed about tax. The Protectorate kept their space lanes clearer than any faction he knew; but it came at a price. Quite literally, actually. They always checked ships, and they'd make sure you paid a standard tax dependent on ship size.

His backdoor was so he wouldn't have to pay to go through the territory he'd help win.

But it still piqued his curiosity when inspection parties went to new ships, if only because so many people came through here that it was rare now. Early on, every ship he saw went through this, now it was a rarity for these inspectors to be used. A cushy job, he imagined. Sitting around, maybe looking over two, three ships a month.

Protectorate paid well, he'd give them that.

So he brought up the information on the ship in question. The one that had just arrived.

He smirked at the name. Hazel.

Sending a comm ping, he waited for her to open the channel. He didn't speak on unencrypted frequencies.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

"Lye," Ivy eyed the hound that remained prone and panting on the metal floor. A second glance out the viewport showed the Security party getting close to her dock. Any minute now-

The comm pinged and Ivy reached back to open the line without looking to see who was calling, "Captain Hazel Scheler," she answered as she spun back around in her chair and got up, stepping towards the lounging tuk'ata and nudging the thing with her foot.

Lye growled, slapping the floor with his armored tail. Hard.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Ivy." He says flatly, sounding more than amused by the fact that she picked 'Hazel' as an actual name, rather than just a callsign. "Don't give the boys no guff - the tariff is real, I know more than a few people who thought they were just trying to extort them and put up a fight. Ain't no good idea."

While normally that wasn't too much of an issue, the warning need be given. More than one person on the straight and narrow had thought this to be a racket on a backwater world - taxes like this weren't common elsewhere in the galaxy. A friendly tip, perhaps? He wasn't sure.

But he wanted her to be safe. Not do something stupid.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

Ivy, straight faced as she stared down at the hound, nudging it again, perked a brow.

There was a definite pause before her reply as she considered his words. Tariff or not, Ivy had no intention of giving the Naboo Security Officials guff. She wasn't a law breaker, not willingly anyways. The other part of her wonderment was at the strange coincidence he, somehow, also happened to be here...somewhere. But who was a wanderer to question a well-traveled man?

"Thanks," the woman replied, unflinching as Lye issued a sour snarl, flipping his head towards her foot with bared fangs.

She could hear the footsteps in the corridor outside and the sound of the ramp as it closed in over the entrance hatch, "....get up," she uttered to the hound. Lye stared up at her, beastly eyes menacing, and she stared right back at him, moving to stand over him in a position of dominance. The seal on the hatch hissed, Lye snarled and started to his feet, massive bulk sliding past Ivy and into the cockpit of the ship where he suceeded only in taking up all of the space.

The beast issued a rumbling huff of breath, eyes trained on the doorway as it slid open.

A uniformed man stepped aboard her ship. He was clean-shaven and looked pleasant enough. He quietly explained the process in which they would scan and search her ship, and the reasons, and then passed over a datapad for her to sign and, as she learned, pay for her right to land on Naboo. It was a steep fee, steeper than she was happy to pay to support this process, but once-upon-a-time she enforced these sorts of things.

She signed and paid and issued a tight breath through her nose, "Are we done here?"
"If you don't mind I just need to inspect the cabin-" the man pointed and made to move past her.
"I wouldn't."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't mind, but I'm not the one you have to worry about. I assure you it's not due to legal infringements, it's for your own safety."
"Standard procedure," the man insisted, gaze hardening, "you understand."
"Aye," the woman nodded calmly as he pushed by her and stepped through the doorway to a face full of fangs as long as his hand, "but he doesn't."

A guttural snarl echoed over the comm to the Melancholy Hill, link left open unless Sarge happened to cut it.

The man yelped, triggering the tuk'ata's prey drive, and found himself throw down by the one-ton creature. Ivy immediately drew her vor'cha and the sound of it's sizzle was enough to send the hound running...

...right out the open hatch and into the station.

"Weh," Ivy watched it go with wide eyes, "oh feth."

"What WAS that?!" the man shrieked, shaking as he stumbled back to his feet.

"My guard dog."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge heard all of it, although it wasn't necessary. A few moments later, a large blur moved through the station, visible out of the bridge viewport. With a shake of his head, he relaxed back. Should he help recapture it? Or let station security handle it? If they asked too many questions, they might figure out who he was....

He'd tried hard enough to avoid the Protectorate that it wasn't something he would welcome, even in the slightest.

Still....

Sighing, he cut the link and stood, rolling his shoulders before reaching up to disconnect the wires attached to his helmet. Moving to the docking collar, he shook his head and cycled the airlocks, stepping onto the station with a Czerka HeadBanger. It would be enough to put the creature down long enough to get it back onto Ivy's ship.

Hopefully. Sighing, he turned to his left and began following the trail with the slow patience of a man used to hunting game. He didn't even wait to see if Ivy would be joining or not.

 

[Hazel Scheler]

The man was fumbling with his comm when Ivy grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't." was all she said, eyes narrowed.
"Don't what? I have to alert Security!"
"Don't send them chasing after it, they'll just end up dead. It's not a threat unless it's threatened," Ivy released the man and moved down the hall of her ship towards the back where the foodstuffs were stored. She pulled open a freezer unit and rummaged around.

"Then what am I supposed to do? Let it run free maiming people?"
"Tell Security to clear the main halls. Don't shoot at it. Blaster rifles won't get through its scales," producing a large slab of chilled meat, Ivy elbowed the unit control pad and stepped away from the billowing cold smoke, shoving the meat at the man, "hold this." She began to gear up, eyeing him, "Don't you have orders to give?"

Frowning, he stammered into the Comm, "Attention all Security personnel. We have a code 11 - potentially dangerous and unrestrained beast loose in the station. Do not engage, authority is en route. Clear the halls, seal the exits, report in with sightings."

"I've seen it, it's heading down main south. The hell is that thing?!"
"Sector 4, we have incoming ... it's on the ceiling."

Well that was new.

"Let's go," Ivy grabbed the meat back from her guest, headed down the ramp and into the station, following the path of strewn litter and baffled travelers.

@[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Walking through the station with a lazy gait, footsteps quiet as a still night, cradled the Headbanger in a loving grip. A stream of people were headed his way, clearly fleeing the large beast that had scurried into their midst. None of them looked injured, so there was always that.

Still...

Sniffing the air, he took a sharp right and found himself in an oddly quiet area of the station. Perfect.

Just grand.

He was alone with the thing.