The Pilot...? [Kalyn]

[Alasdair Sitra]

“You’re the pilot?”
Alasdair Sitra looked up from the ever moving traffic he’d been staring at for way too long. In fact how long had he been staring? He had no idea, but by the disgruntled look on the Gran’s face he had outstayed his welcome.
“Well?”
It was a good question, Alasdair was sure he probably didn’t look the part. His hair was a disheveled mess and not in the carefree, charming way he had wanted. His shirt, which had been white when it was first put on, now had saveral purple and bluish stains on it, stains that weren’t going anywhere…Ithorian blood? Or it was something nastier and not worth thinking of. Still, at least he had his smile and charming good looks to get by.
“Yes.” He answered finally, brandishing his smirk like he had never brandished before. “I am the pilot.” In truth he probably was the pilot, unless the other was? He wished he knew but the second allocation for the job had not been made available to him by the contract, instead it merely stated that a secondary was allocated.
“Get outta here.” The Gran pushed him hard on the shoulder and Alasdair was knocked back several paces, behind the Gran the door remained closed to the port-dock and for now he remained unable to obtain what should have been the simplest of fetch and return jobs.
“I am, see I have…” He shuffled through his pockets, where the hell had he put it? “Hold on a minute. I swear…” Finally the touch of something metal. “There.” He flipped a coin which the Gran caught haphazardly in his big fists. The eyes narrowed, clearly taking in the insignia on the coin.
“Oh. They actually hired you?” He burst into laughter. “Poor sods. No wonder this galaxy is going the way it is.” He waved his hand and the blast door began to open. “Good luck pilot.”

Having ignored the overly loud laughter of the Gran as he had left him to enter the dock, Alasdair had found himself face to face with what was probably the most beaten, rusty falling apart ship he’d ever seen. The thing was huge, sitting upright like a great sail and appeared to be bolted together from several old chassis and cockpits. At the base was a small creature, about half Alasdair’s height and sporting the oddest trunk like nose.
“You the pilot?”
“Why do people always ask that question?” Alasdair scoffed. “Don’t I look like one?”
“No.” The alien shook his head. “You look like a spice addict. Is that it, is it spice?” He peered at Alasdair with little eyes.

“No!” Offended or not Alasdair turned away to look at the ship. “I’m the pilot…I think.”

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

"Yes, I am... What the kriff?"

The sleezy little Gran who stood in her way simply shook his head, practically glowering at her, and gestured her away from the blast door.

"But I am the pilot!" she said, for a second time, at this point exasperated. Kal had never had such a hard time starting a job before, but this impish little bugger seemed deadset on stalling the whole operation. One hand balled into a fist, though she had no intentions of actually throwing punches, and her pale skin seemed to glisten and shimmer for a moment as frustration boiled beneath the surface.

"Just get out of my way," she huffed.

"Not gonna happen."

She turned on the spot, looking for another way into the hangar, before finally, finally, remembering another piece of the puzzle. Looking back to the Gran she reached into her flightsuit pocket and pulled out a coin, tossing it his way.

"Well if I ain't the pilot, then why'd I have this?"

The Gran seemed genuinely lost for words, before he rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. She didn't catch much of it, just the tail end "...two pilots...", before the blast door opened and he stepped aside. She stole back the coin from him on her way past, just in case anyone else tried any funny business, and before he could say or do much else she was gone.

Decked out in her bright orange flightsuit, which presently was only half on with the sleeves tied at the waist and left her white tank top on show, Kal sauntered into the docking bay and looked over the spectacle of a ship which lay before her. It was a beat up old thing, but she'd flown worse. Heck, she'd flown on worse. Her mind ran back to the Rusty Riot and its crew and she couldn't help but smile and wonder what they were up to these days.

Her trip to this sector had been a pain in her butt, having taken a detour at Shulstine V in order to shimmy on down the Hydian Way. After weeks running down the Perlemian Trade Route it was admittedly nice to get a change of pace and scenery, though she was dead set on resuming where she'd left off when all was said and done.

When she spotted another obvious scoundrel in the bay, one brow rose. She stepped over to him, and the weird little creature at the base of the ship, and nodded her head up in greeting.

"So this is the beauty I'll be flying, huh?" she said, offhandedly, completely unaware of all the confusion surrounding the blasted (yet highly coveted) pilot position.

[member="Alasdair Sitra"]

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

“She started off as a YT-2400, that is where the main structure comes from you see. Then we added a—“ The alien was passed by a woman who gave them each a nod as she moved into the dominant position on the ships boarding ramp. “—Who is she?”

“Who is she?” Alasdair repeated as he gave her look, where he was scruffy she was on the other hand, an absolute portrait of well put together. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, it wasn’t that, it was that she just had put some effort into the look of spacer, something that Alasdair had forgotten to do, right down to the fact that his holster, where a simple blaster usually remained was completely empty. “Who are you?” Alasdair aimed at the woman who responded simply with her mention of being the pilot.

“The what?” Alasdair scoffed.
“Ah, yes, much better.” The alien cheered.
“What?” Alasdair responded and then that was that, pride had been hit.
“I was fearful that the spice addict was going to be the pilot, you seem a much better fit.” The alien completely blanked Alasdair and headed over to where Kalyn was stood. “Let me show you aboard, plus the storage where the ah, stock is being kept.”
“Wait a minute.” Alasdair shouted to regain some attention. “Who are you exactly and what do you mean your the pilot?”

He wasn’t even convinced with his argument at this point. She did seem the type.
“I’m the pilot.”
“Be quiet addict. Now get those boxes on board while I show the pilot the ship.” The alien gave an evil smile and disappeared up the boarding ramp.

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

Without waiting for a response Kal stepped up onto the boarding ramp to better inspect the ship.

She'd overheard some of what it was on her approach, though she was interested in more of the details and would no doubt be asking for a run down before pre-flight checks were made. All she knew was that it wasn't any ship she'd personally seen before, though given what she had overheard that made sense. Seemed to be pieced together from other vessels. The best kind of ship, in her opinion, was one which organically grew depending on the needs of its Captain. Even if they ended up looking a little strange.

Apparently the other ne'erdowell in the dock was unhappy with the way things were panning out, and as she was escorted up toward the ship he even went so far as to raising his voice enough to be heard. The little alien didn't seem to pay him much mind, nor did he seem to want her name, apparently he was just satisfied by her appearance there.

Kal looked to him, gave a very slight 'what can you do?' shrug, and made a mental note to explain more when they had a free moment. Right now the alien was correct, there was plenty to be done before they could get airborne.

"So, tell me more about the ship," she said, as they made their way through the vessel toward the primary cargo hold, though she had a feeling that the stuff they'd be moving wouldn't just be sat in the middle of the hold. Usually Kal didn't want to know what was being moved, but most of the time she also worked alone. Having someone else on the run complicated matters, so she'd take all the information she could to ensure things went... Smoothly.

Or smoothly as they could. This was the Outer Rim, after all.

Which had something else come to mind...

"Who was the nerf-herder you were just speaking to? Any information on him?"

Didn't hurt to find out more, before they began the job.

[member="Alasdair Sitra"]

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

“It’s name is the Fantastic Super-Fast.” The alien said with a hint of excitement as it led Kalyn into the main hold of the ship. “You see I named it as such because it is neither fantastic nor is it Super-Fast, but I felt it needed to have something going for it at least.” The creature gave a small grunts laugh and pulled a lever that was attached to a nearby bulkhead. It caused a hiss to carry through the hold and beneath their feet several panels began to slowly slide away. “Hidden for, you know, important stock.”

Alasdair meanwhile was moving the last trolley of crates up the ramp of the ship, which considering the trolley was on repulsors and had no reason to be effected by gravity was heavier then it had any right to be. “Stupid ship.” He muttered, finally getting up the ramp and into the corridor where he could hear the alien and the pilot talking. “I could fly this ship. I know I could fly this ship.” He moved down the ramp and did a quick double check of the bay, now empty from laying around crates.

“The addict?” The Alien squeaked as it was asked. “I dunno, arrived just before you did claiming he was the pilot. I of course questioned his credentials and wouldn’t let him on board.” The Alien climbed down into one of the now open hatched. “Which was good, because then you arrived. My guess is he’s a jacked up Black Sunner or maybe one of those Crimson Dawn lot, helpful muscle but be careful.” Underneath them lay a secret hold that held seven large crates, one of which the alien slid the top off to reveal a large selection of brand new blasters. “Lifted from the Alliance forge on Sullust just before the collapse. Now somebody needs them, probably the Alliance or whatever remains of them. Funny, making them pay for their own stuff.” The crate was quickly sealed again and the two would find themselves in the hold as the panels yet again sealed.

“So—“ Alasdair was waiting for them. “—Alasdair.” He extended his hand in some form of creating, fully aware that right now he was on the rough end of first impressions.

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

"Cool name," she said, with a hint of sincerity; while a name did not make a ship, it did provide a first impression. She'd flown on the Rusty Riot, which more than lived up to its name, and her own beauty was Solitude, which was apt given it was a starfighter. Names gave off a certain air, allowed people to make up their minds ahead of time. Judge a book by its cover, so to speak. Everyone fell for such things at least once in a while. Thus the Fantastic Super-Fast might have the special quality of putting people off the chase if they let their heads get ahead of themselves.

Maybe.

Probably not.

At this point they had reached the panels, that broke away to reveal their hidden cargo. Several crates, she counted seven, and as the alien slipped down into the opening and released one of them she found out more about their contents. Blasters... They'd be gunrunning.

"Guess I'll find out more about his position here soon enough," she said, of the other pilot, before whistling at the sight of the blasters. Quite the haul. The Alliance, at least, were the good guys. Right? Depends on who you ask.

"So, destination?" She'd been given a rough idea, of course, wouldn't have made it this far without some information, but the exact specifics had been left out until this point.

Once the panels closed over, leaving the cargo covered, Mr Nerfherder appeared within the hallway. With hand extended, and name uttered, he seemed to be trying to set right any unintentional wrongs, and since Kal hadn't had so much as a second to talk to him she had no issues with him to speak. Even if the alien had a lot to say.

"Mara," she informed him, shaking his hand without a second thought, "So if you're not the pilot, what were you hired for?"

[member="Alasdair Sitra"]

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

“You’re going to Omwat.” The alien explained their destination simply. “Which is close to a war zone.” He added. Which it was, the First Order had recently, along with the Sith Empire crushed the Alliance who had until that time been long standing protectors of the planet, now it fell into the de-militarised zone that the First Order was slowly swallowing up into their vast empire. “Your buyers are a bunch of rebels, so I’d avoid First Order or Imperial patrols.”

Alasdair had naturally listened right the way through and had taken in that they were to do blockade running. Or at least the pilot would. When introductions were made he was pleasantly surprised by the warm greeting of this Mara, enough to give her a small quirky smile.
“I was, like you it seemed hire to pilot.” He explained, turning his head towards he Alien. “Which does seem a little bit odd.”
“Okay, I admit it.” The Alien raised it’s little arms in surrender. “We hired two of you. you know as a contingency. We always do it for jobs like this.” It shrugged. “Usually we are off world by the time the second one comes along, which as you can see failed this time around.”
Alasdair would’ve hit the creature if he didn’t need the credits so bad. “It’s fine.” He put out through gritted teeth. “Guess I’ll leave you to it.” He moved towards the ramp, hoping that the Alien would try and keep hi honour, even just a touch.
“Wait.” Alasdair smiled as the Alien called out. “The Fantastic Super-Fast could use a co-pilot. You hang around and I’ll make sure you still get part of the cut.
Alasdair paused before turning around. “I can accept this, so—Mara it seems like we are a team now.” He took a deep breath, ran his hand through his filthy hair and turned back to the alien. “Um, odd request. You wouldn’t happen to have a hydro-unit on board would you because…I stink.”
“Yeah you stink.” The Alien pointed towards a blast door. “You can use it while we get off the ground and do us both a favour. There is a whole heap of clothes in there that used to belong to one of my crew, change into something clean.”

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

"Omwat," she repeated, with a nod, mostly just to set the name to memory. If she remembered correctly, it lay along a Corridor which could prove both a blessing and a curse with the current state of things in the Galaxy. Especially given that they'd be headed into nomansland. It would certainly get them there faster, but Hyperlanes meant a greater chance of running into patrols, and who knew if the world was facing blockades.

Before she had a real chance to voice any of her concerns, though, Alasdair had the truth come tumbling out of the alien's lips. She rounded on the little guy, disbelief washing over her expression, and let out a very short "huh..." It made sense of course in the grand scheme of things, to make sure someone definitely turned up, but to try and make him feel as though he was in the wrong place, while knowing that wasn't the case?

Heck, Kal almost felt bad for the guy.

He made a quick show of leaving, though he didn't fully commit to it, and soon enough had landed himself a new position as co-pilot. Much better, in fact Kal gave a quick nod to the turn of events.

"Partners it is," she affirmed, before the man ventured off in search of a refresher. At some point she'd have to discover just why it was he was so disheveled, because if it wasn't spice then there had to be an interesting story behind it. Right?

At any rate, she turned back to the alien and shook her head, though she was unable to keep a very light chuckle from breaking through her lips, "That was cruel," she told him, tone filled with humour yet a slightly more serious undertone, as she made her way through the corridor toward the cockpit, "For all you know, he's the best pilot this side of the Corellian Run."

And even if not, well, he was a person too... Still, it had all worked out in the end so in hindsight did it really matter?

[member="Alasdair Sitra"]

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

“Have you seen my nose?” The alien laughed, tapping it’s trunk. “Better to be cruel then to smell that for the whole journey.” There was a small giggle that followed, Alasdair not hearing it as he disappeared into the depths of the ship.

The refresher was as it’s name implied. Refreshing. Alasdair using it to assure his hair was thoroughly cleaned, removing the dust, grime and what he was highly suspecting was some form of blood out of it with rigorous scrubbing. He also found some fresh clothes, a fresh black spacer’s shirt and pants, nothing of special note and just a slight bit to big. It however made all the difference and when the young Corellian stepped into the cockpit to stand behind the other two it was almost like a completely new person.

“Ah so the addict isn’t so much of an addict after all.” The Alien laughed again, and with some grunting shifted itself out of the co-pilots seat. “Good to know.” It passed Alasdair and patted him roughly on the back of the thigh as it passed. “Don’t ruin my ship you two. I’d hate to not have to pay you.”

“Yeah I’m sure you would hate that.” Alasdair muttered as he slipped into the chair next to Kalyn and inspected the controls. The ship, even though a lump of junk from the outside had a hidden charm on the inside. The switches and levers all were reminiscent of the speeders he used to race in the streets on Corellia, it was enough to bring a smirk to his face.


“So…” Alasdair swivelled slightly towards Mara as the ship began to hum beneath them. “I heard you give it a hard time. Thanks, not often I have people stand up for me.”

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

______________________________________________________________​

​

Omwat, The Outer Rim Territories // Aboard The Fantastic Super-Fast​

Prepping To Leave // With [member="Alasdair Sitra"]​

♫ // I Will Call You By Name​

I Will Share Your Road​

______________________________________________________________​

"He probably appreciates the fact that there is a refresher," that much was for certain. Kal knew she would if she had been in a similar state. Then again... Kal took every single opportunity she had to use one, often spending longer than necessary, given that her own ship was a starfighter and didn't have such luxuries. Still, she always rocked up to a job fresh and clean, even if it meant hijacking starport lounge's refreshers, meant for private guests.

When they reached the cockpit Kal slipped into the pilot's chair and glanced over the various controls. While Alasdair washed off she took the time to acquaint herself with the consoles, the various switches and luminous buttons on display, though truth be told most featured more or less the same ones, though they were frustrating held in random locations especially on older vessels.

The ship hummed with life as she started up the pre-flight checks, and kicked the engines into action. As it hovered upward from the ground in preparation to leave the docking bay the landing gear retracted, and then the vessel lurched forward. Kal was used to a much smoother ride, if admittedly faster and in some regards harder to handle, but after a few seconds she adjusted to any pull or drag it had in comparison.

"Ready?" she asked the thing at her side, moments before her co-pilot stepped into the cockpit. Better to check they weren't missing anything than simply leave and regret it later.

After getting her answer she turned to look at Alasdair while their smaller companion shimmied off down the hallway.

"Don't mention it," she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Can't go around judging people purely on appearances. You scrub up nicely - what got you in such a mess in the first place?"

 

[Alasdair Sitra]

She seemed relatively normal, at least for a spacer which was a nice change from the normal lowlives that had made up Alasdair’s run of ‘partners’ and ‘associates’ recently. Like that scoundrel on Bespin, now he was what you would call a good-for-nothing-pile-of—but that was a story for another time. Right now they had a job to do.

“Well I was down at Rega’s—“ He paused for a moment, everyone knew Rega’s yeah? The small drinking hole that was reputed to be the finest hole of scum and villainy this side of the galaxy? Of course they did, you couldn’t not know Rega’s. “—enjoying a quick beverage or two while trying to find some form of transport off-world when this great big Zabrak comes up to me saying I owe him money.” It had been a big Zabrak, Alasdair remembered that part clear as day. “Anyway, I told him he must have mistaken me for someone else and next thing I was flying through a window, into the mud and he was following me out.”

In truth Alasdair may have said some less then savoury things in the direction of the Zabrak who had in fact only asked the young spacer for a light, but never let truth get in the way of a good story.

“We had a disagreement right there outside Rega’s. People shouting us on etc.” Alasdair said with a smirk. This was for what it was worth, true.

“Then I managed to get him down and he gave up. Just left me in a bit of a mess with Zabrak blood, which is harder to wash off then expected.” He added, which unlike the previous mention was not true at all. He’d shot the Zabrak the second he had turned his back on Alasdair after plummeting him a few times into the mud, hence for the quick take on the current job as a means of getting as far away as quick as possible. Especially if the rumours of a Crimson Dawn connection were true.

“However, here I am. All cleaned up and ready to get this hunk of junk to where-ever we need to be.” There were several checks he had to do as the ship became fully prepped, fuel levels, coolant temperatures and the like. Nothing too hard or much effort in the slightest. In fact this entire run should be easy.


Famous last words.

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

 

[Lief]

______________________________________________________________​

​

Omwat, The Outer Rim Territories // Aboard The Fantastic Super-Fast​

Prepping To Leave // With [member="Alasdair Sitra"]​

♫ // I Will Call You By Name​

I Will Share Your Road​

______________________________________________________________​

Kal did not, in fact, know what Rega's was.

However she was smart enough to infer by the context of the conversation, so she did not halt to ask and instead listened on. She had no real reason not to believe his words, yet she had been around enough of his - their - kind before to know that there was likely a whole lot of embellishment, either with regards to how it ended, how it began, or the real part he'd had to play throughout.

Didn't matter much to her. Any problems he might have had on world were about to be left in the dust of The Fantastic Super-Fast, and that was that.

"Sounds like you had quite the time of it," she remarked, turning her gaze from Alasdair to the view beyond the viewing port. "Let's hope this goes off without a hitch." With the pre-flight checks out of the way she knew the time had come to get the hell out of dodge.

"Omwat," she informed the man at her side, who had sort-of-hinted that he didn't know where they were off to either, "That's where we're headed."

And then, without any sort of flourish or embellishment, the ship rose and began to ease its way from the bay.