The salvage of lot 426

[Walak Tu]

I will be spending most of this thread salvaging a ship in the outskirts of the dressel system without much »plot«. If you want to partake feel free to pm me and we’ll see if we can make it a story.


Previously

Kamino​

​

At 11:00 the next morning Walak called up an acquaintance who still owed him a ship:

»Jubb Traks salvage, Jubb speaking.«

»It’s Walak. I’m calling it in. What do you have got?«

»Whoa easy. I don’t have much stock around. Also: why now?«

»Pawned something in the hopes of never seeing it again. Now I need to find it.«

»Interresting. Care to elaborate ...?«

He drew out every word in anticipation of what might follow.

»No. You got something or not?«

»You need something for a little scavenger hunt then, right? I might have a ship. She’s gone derelict at the edge of the Dressel system and I won the bid on the salvage rights. But if you want her, you need to come with and help me on the salvage. And I need to see some money.«

»I can do that. When?«

»Whenever you want.«

»I’ll be there in a few hours.«

The kaminoan started stuffing clothes into a backpack, cleaned out the fridge. On the way out he pulled a spacebag from the closet. It was covered in dust.

»I haven’t had you out since getting that license.«,

me mumbled while shoving canned food and a toolbox into the bag. Throwing it over his shoulder he locked the door and got into the shuttle. As the door closed it muffeled the sound of the kaminoan rain. The shuttle took off around 11:30 and arrived at Jubbs in the early afternoon. Walak exited the craft and walked over to the small office tower overseeing the mountains of scrap that filled the jard, covered in large protective tarpaulins to keep them from rusting away in the rain. Behind the tower sat a GR-75 with the ground crew buzzing around. Walak climbed the exterior stair and nocked at the door.

»Come in.«

On the inside a besalisk in a boiler suit awaited him. Walak made his way between stacks of paper lying around on the floor to the chair in front of the desk. Some of the stacks had besalisk sized, muddy footprints on them, he noticed.

»So, the Tu comes to collect on that debt. But that ship is worth more than my debt. I need to see some money or I’m flying without you ....«

Walak sat down and leaned back.

»And a good day to you to. You know I don’t have to much change weighing me down. I can offer the shuttle. Trade it in.«

»You’re sure about that? What will you fly when you return?«

»I won’t be a cabby if I return.«

He dangled the keys. Jubb grabbed them while typing with his lower pair of arms.

»Anything in the trunk you want put on the Dexter?«,

he asked, pointing at the ship behind him.

»Two bags on the backseats.«

Jubb pulled his handcom up to his face and started giving orders:

»Kell? I have a friend over by the name of Walak. I need you to fetch him from my office and fit him with a suit and anything he might need on a job. There’s also a shuttle in the jard. Take his bags out and put them on the Dexter. Have a bunk for Walak prepared and put the shuttle in storage. Got all that? ... Good. And try and get the Dexter ready to fly by 1800, will you?«

 

[GalacticNiv]

The bounty on the Imperial Remnant had brought many hunters out of hiding in the recent week, and so the freighter owned by Tallor found itself soaring along the edges of Remnant territory. Kamino was most likely one of their most defended planets, and so the Mandalorian made sure not to get too close. Patrols were bound to be about, and Tallor was a lot more effective in ground combat than space.

With shields up and sensors scanning, the armored warrior sat quietly in the cockpit of his ship, monitoring the planet and the surrounding area. Rotating in the pilots seat, Tallor turned to face one of the nearby built in computer terminal monitors, pulling up the announcement that had spread quickly throughout the underworld. While he doubted the ambitious criminal syndicate would last long, the man decided he needed to cash in before anything else.

[member="Walak Tu"]

 

[Walak Tu]

Kell was rather short, for a besalisk. He took Walak to a row of lockers where he produced a beat up spacesuit from one.

»Try that one. Should fit you.«

Walak took the suit and opened. I consisted of an inner suit with tightening bladders and an outer suit, as well as a helmet and a backmodule. Walak slipped into the suit.

»Why does the oversuit have so many tiny holes?«

»It’s to protect from micrometeorites.«

»The holes?«

»No, the suit.«

»Well it doesn’t. This looks like meteorites pierce it whenever they feel like it.«

»Aahh ... it’s free, so don’t dump on it, pos?.«

Walak detached the left sleeve of the oversuit from the glove, revealing a multitude of paches and welds on the material below. Without a word he pointed at it.

»I said don‘t dump on it. Besides, the suit is just to pressurise and cool or warm you. Only the Helmet is full of air. Also the suit is second hand. And it is bad luck to sell ones old suit ...«

He opened the clamshell helmet and handed it to the Kaminoan who attached it to the collar.

»So your telling me I’m wearing a dead mans suit?«

»Let’s just say that crimson liner is not exactly factory spec. But no, last owner was a woman.«

Walak closed the helmet and checked seals. They held. Taking the helmet off he followed the besalisk to the shuttle. Kell pulled the bags from the backseat and handed them to Walak.

»I see your spacebag can double as a personal rescue enclosure. Thats good, but you will still be wearing the undersuit at all times. Well at all times exept when you have to go to the crapper. Diapers can be found in the container labeled DUNGSACKS by the way. You’ll want to grab some on the way to your bunk, unless you feel particulry warm to the idea of putting them on in an airlock with everyone watching that is. We'll warn you when it’s time to put them on. Shifts on salvage will be three-man-twelve-hours.«

They took the lift up into the hull of the Dexter. Walak could see, that Jubb had made some modifications to the GR-75s massive cargo space. Claws and grapples could pull ships in to by worked on while on the way back. Several kaminoan and besalisk workers were busy lowering the wreck of a ship Walak couldn’t identify onto a treaded transport platform. Then the lift rose into the hull and the vanished from view. Inside Kell showed him around the ship. It had a distinctive smell of besalisk. Walak wasn’t really listening but instead looked for the mentioned container. Only after he found it and grabbed a few diapers, he started to pay attention.

» ... in that crate you will also find a handy guide, with pictures and scematics, should be hard to misunderstand, of cause if you think you do just ask and I’ll help you out or anyone else on the ship and this is your bunk.«

»Thanks.«

Walak peered into the cabin which was dominated by two beds and didn‘t leave much room besides. He dropped his bags on the bed Kell pointed at.

»What did you say about that crate ...?«

»Under the bunk. Make yourself familiar with the content. Liftoff is in ninety minutes, I would adviseyou sleep during transit so you don’t arrive tired.«

In the chest the kaminoan found the mentioned booklet, explaining all the rest of the contents. Spanners and wrenches, cutters and welders. A beltharness and a lot of attachements. The booklet also explained the use of telemeters and motion trackers, of dosimeters and radcounters, thrustpacks and beltlines. Walak knew a lot of that from the training for his pilot license, but he hadn’t applied any of it in a long time. Better use the time then, he thought and started reading.

[member=Tallor]

 

[Walak Tu]

»Imperial customs has just cleared us. We’ll be off in a few minutes.«

By the time Jubb anounced the approaching liftoff, Walak had made his way halfway through the booklet, fumbeling around with the belt harness. A kaminoan in an undersuit similar to his, but coloured differently, entered the room, dumped a bag on the other bunk and sat down next to it.

»Am I mistaken to assume you are the latest addition to the crew?«

»I’m just on for one job.«

»First time?«

»I haven’t been in space for a few years, so I thought I should get myself back up to speed.«

»Good call. You can call me Nahke.«

»Walak.«

»Nice to meet you Walak. You know, I too signed up for no more than one job. And now it’s been three years. The whole thing just grew on me. Most of us started out that way. So, if you like it, don’t hesitate to extend your hire.«

»I don’t think I will. Jubb owes me the ship we will be getting. I’ll take it and be on my way.«

»Oh. You’re that Walak. The one the boss crashed into.«

»Yes.«

»Well, you better not cost me my pay.«

»I won’t. Don’t worry. I traded in a shuttle. Jubb will be able to sell that.«

»He does have a lot of debt. With a lot of people.«

»Okay. Well, on a different note, is it difficult to work with so many besalisks?«

»You get used to it. Well, to the people that is. There is no way i will ever get accustomed to the smell.«

»Just one more reason not to extend my hire.«

»Yeah, I guess.«

A siren started blaring throughout the ship. Shortly after the floor started trembling and creaking and Walak felt a strong sensation of weight as the main drives pushed the ship upwards, then jumped a little when the acceleration compensators kicked in.

They made their way to the bridge and could see the last whisps of kaminoan clouds fall behind the ship as it made its way into space. The blackness soon surrounded them on all sides. Finally a blinking, yellow »READY« sign signalled that the gravimetric sensors had released their grip on the main hyperdrive motivator. At the flip of a swich the ship left realspace, the soulgripping nothingness beyond comprehension now filling the viewports.

[member="Tallor"]

 

[Walak Tu]

Dressel​

The Dexter dropped out of hyperspace in the Dressel-system not long after but Walak was fast asleep. The ship shreaked in agony for a second, then settled in reality. Nahke woke him up as they approched the systems inner planets. Walak tried to get a view of Dressel, but found his bulkhead on the wrong side of the craft. Pressing his head against the cold glass he still could not see the tinyest bit of the world he would soon walk upon.

»Attention crew. We are approaching Dressel and will be landing in less than an hour. We will be staying onworld for two days, please feel free to have yourselfes a good time. But I must ask you to always be reachable by com, I do not want a repeat of the Brokellia disaster. Also I must ask you all to be back at the landingbay on time. Not a few minutes late, not a few hours late. We will meet the day after tomorrow 1900 hours.«

The com went silent for a few seconds, then Jubb adressed the crew once more:

»The following crew members will meet me on the ramp after landing: Arek, Kell. Tu, Walak. Winstan, Lamka. That is all.«

From the window Walak could soon see clouds rise above the ship. Mere minutes later they were already sitting on a pad. The Kaminoan changed into normal clothes and grabbed a few commodities, then hastely made his way to the ramp. Three besalisks were waiting for him. He had some difficulty telling them apart at first, only being able to distinguish them by their clothes.

»Sorry I’m late.«

»You sure are.«

Jubb started walking after locking the ship, the rest of them following.«

»Where are we heading?«

»Bar.«

»Why are we on our way to a bar? I was under the impression we were heading to the systems edge to get a certain derelict craft ... ?«

»We need a permit for that.«

»You don’t have a permit?! You told me you had that already!«

»Calm down, calm down. I do have a permit, I just do not have it with me. All we need to do is visit a friend of mine and pick it up.«

»And this friend will definitly give it to you. This is not some undertaking where you scam some guy and I cannot ever set foot on this world again, right?«

»Just relax. I too need to do further buisness on dressel.«

The four of them left the starport, Jubb guiding them to one of the many bars around the area.

[member="Tallor"]

 

[GalacticNiv]

Some time had passed since Tallor's plan had been put into action. Strapped into the pilots seat, the Mandalorian sat donning his armor, the majority of systems aboard his XS light freighter having been shut down. Without a connection to the Holonet, the man had no way of knowing that the bounty on the Imperial Remnant had already been called off within an hour of it being declared, rendering the time he had spent waiting absolutely useless. Even so, from the viewport of his cockpit Tallor was able to spot something in the distance; a lone Lambda class shuttle that was approaching at an alarming rate.

No doubt it had been lured by the Mandalorian's distress signal, trying to establish communications to no avail before eagerly beginning the boarding procedure. Tallor found this just a bit strange, but overlooked it due to the fact his ship hadn't been shot into pieces like most Imperials would have done. Unstrapping himself from the chair, the Mandalorian rose from his seat and made his way towards the airlock, retrieving his helmet from the cockpit dashboard before exiting into the corridor. It was time to collect.

[member="Walak Tu"]

 

[Walak Tu]

The »Plasmacutters« was a bar frequented by salvage crews. The walls around the place were plastered in posters advertising deconstruction work around the galaxy, from the belts of the dressel system to the wrecks of the Castor and Pollux, ranging from small personal craft to be recovered to spacestations to be cut apart. Walak noticed that many posters were just plastered onto the old ones, the walls bulging out at eye level by several centimeters. Noone had cared to scrape off the old ones. Behind the doors lay, much to Walaks surprise, an elevator to a large hangar, turned into a labyrinth of stalls looking more like a marketplace and less like a bar. They stepped into the cage of the elevator and looked out into the dimmly lit cavern. In the canter of the large underground structure stood a strange building, the rows of stalls, scrappiles and smaller huts forming concentric rings around it.

»What is this place?«

»It’s a sort of pub / junkjard / auction house. The owner of the bar in the middle got the underground hangar on the cheap and over time allowed a little trade on the side. I’d guess she makes a handy profit of it. The bar is our destination today.«

»It looks like a kind of reactor.«

»Yeah, that’s no accident. They had it build in a large starships reactorcooling system.«

They stepped out of the elevator and made their way between the stalls. They came in every shape imaginable, some were sawn open freight containers, others three walls with small second hand parts shoveld in to be sold by weight. Walak saw every part of a spaceship being sold, fuses and dirty landinglights, beat up baffleshields, tensorcoils and rusted RCS nozzles.
Not long after they climbed the circular stairs around the bar. Music from the bar already made ithard to hear eachover when they neared the doors cut into the side of the reactor walls. Inside the noise was deafening. Jubb made his way between the tables, the rest of the group following suit. In a sidebooth the sounds were more bearable. They shook hands with the Besalisk already waiting there. After ordering over a numpad a droid served them and finally the conversation moved to the matter of the derelict craft.

»You said you have something for us ...?«

»Indeed. I have a few ships sitting in the belt, just waiting for someone to take them. Auction 7-03, lot 426?«

»Yes, that’s the one we’re here for.«

» ... «

»Can we please get the salvage permit?«

»No.«

»Oh come on. You owe me. And I owe this fine gentleman next to me. You wouldn’t want him to turn sad, right?«

»I don’t care who’s breathing down your neck. What I owe you is maybe two or three sixpacks. If you get lot 426, I get your accesstape for the Sultroxy.«

»What? you are not getting that tape!«

»Then you are not getting lot 426.«

»You know I would never give you the tape. So, be honest here. Why do you want to keep that specific ship for yourself?«

»Rumor goes that ship belonged to a kaminoan scientist. There is some data on its computercore that is worth a lot iff and only if you know the right people.«

»I can get you a coredump if you want ...«

»No. I need the original. Buy a new core and get me the old one. Do not look at it. Just replace it and seal it for me.«

[member=Tallor]

 

[Walak Tu]

Walak was still chewing on the way out, papertray in hand. The meal consisted of a strange rubbery meat in a delightfully salty slurry with a faint small of sage and lemon. He scooped the rest of the slurry onto his mouth and washed it down with the rest of his drink. Then he stuffed the plate into the papercup together with the rest of the meat and dumped the result into a plastic bag, that someone had attached to a pipe.

»Are we going to give him that core?«

»Well, what would you do?«

»Copy it first, I guess?«

»Do you think we can do that? Without him noticing it?«

»Might be possible. It all depends on the model of computer. I will probably need an owners manual. Can we get one in this place?«

»I hope so. We need one anyway even if we are only to replace the core. But we need to know what kind of computer is in there, so we need an users manual for the ship, too. And we need a few supplies.«

»Shall we split up?«

»Yes. I’ll handle general supplies. Remember, we are looking for a Type 2C/Lambda »Surveyor« astroid and salvage survey craft, get the interplanetary manual. Unless you speak geonosian, that is.«

»Can’t we use a translator?«

»Sadly, no. To many technical terms, I guess.«

»Understood. Meet back here in two hours?«

»Sure. And good luck.«

Meandering between scrapmongers and partpushers Walak had a hard time finding anyone selling owners manuals. After fourtyfife minutes he stumbeled over a twilek engaged in a conversation with a human.

»No. Real corellia! For zoo books.«

The twilek’s huttese was rather choppy. The human managed to convey her wishes soon enough and purchased a stack of datatapes.

»Hi. Do you speak basic?«

The Twilek turned to Walak.

»I do. I’m looking for an owners manual for a geonosian ship.«

»I don’t have to much geonosian stuff. You can flip through the filing cabinets and I will go through the microfilms but geonosian stuff is hard to get. What exactly are you looking for?«

»A 2C/Lambda.«

»Hmm. Should be doable.«

Some time later Walak walked off with a stack of paper only barely held together and a few microfilm cards. Looking through the manual he identified the ships computer system. He met Jubb back near the bar with a used memory core in his arms.

»Got everything?«

»Yeah. Let’s get all this loaded on the Dexter and then hit a bar with better food. Ever had an ojomian surprise?

[member=Tallor]