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Thread: Showdown at Junction

  1. #41
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    "Well now, you look like one of those strong silent types. You know, the ones who bottle it in and just keep trekkin'," a voice said, getting closer to Loki. A pair of worn brown boots entered his field of vision and the owner of the voice knelt before him, revealing a smiling Togruta girl. "Yer cute. Buck up, yeah? 'S always darkest before dawn, as they say. Well, not where I grew up; but it's gotta be true somewhere yeah?"

  2. #42
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    Loki's gaze climbed the stranger like she was a mountain. Her introduction, for want of a better word, crashed down with all the irresistible force of an avalanche. Under better circumstances, Loki might've braced himself for the onslaught of unwelcome conversation; as it was, in that moment, his tolerance for people was about zero. And, as if it wasn't enough that this Togruta girl had picked an entire bouquet of assumptions about him, seemingly from thin air, but she went so far as to casually assess him like a bantha calf at market.

    Cute, he almost repeated, bristling. He wasn't a kitten. And why should he buck up? Was it expected of him because she smiled and dispensed folksy wisdom from the twelfth moon of nowhere? His eyes did most of the talking: an unspoken medley of weariness, irritation, and bewilderment. But what his mouth said was:

    "Who are you?"

  3. #43
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    "Eh," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "No one special. Name's Shuvin."

    She disregarded his antisocial demeanour and simply continued to crouch there, smiling at him.

    "You look like you could use a drink. Wanna join me, or should I just scamper off and leave you to your lonesome?"

  4. #44
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    "Shuvin," he repeated, with consideration. Names were important and, sometimes, they were also the key to unlocking a significant truth about someone. In Shuvin's case, however, the name did little to consolidate the sum of her parts into a comprehensive whole. She seemed friendly enough, but it begged the question of why a girl like her had taken an interest in someone like him. His gaze drifted, in search of a clue, of some hint of where she came from. Nothing seemed to be amiss, or, at the very least, suspicious.

    "Loki," he replied, rising.

    There was something rather crushing about her apparent authenticity: what a pitiful sight he must be. And it was kindness, then, that had compelled Shuvin to take action - an acute reminder that there were some people in the galaxy that actually liked making conversation with strangers, and that it wasn't that abnormal. An opportunity had presented itself to him - he still didn't put any stock in that Will of the Force nonsense - and he was going to take full advantage of it.

    Besides, she wasn't wrong about him needing a drink; his misfortune stuck to him like mud, and all it would take was a hot stimcaf or a fresh spiced tea to rinse it all away.

    "Lead the way. Please."

  5. #45
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    Vissica's shuttle parted the clouds as it made the final descent towards Junction's grand terminal starport. With word sent in advance of who was on board - and what business was to be attended to - the harbormaster quickly ensured that a priority landing pad was cleared. The messages passed from the harbormaster to the royal staff were disjointed and rapid. Of course, the Imperial Envoy could land without delay. *Why* exactly was an Imperial Envoy here?. The unusual nature of the landing was only highlighted a minute before touchdown as a large security presence arrived quickly from the capitol.

    "I'm Protector Carstan, of the King's Watch. Where is the harbormaster?"

    "That would be me. Master Anderos."


    The Protector seemed disinterested in the introduction as he watched an honor guard deploy around the periphery of the landing sight.

    "Can you tell me *anything* of note about the Imperial request?"

    Anderos shook his head, showing the bewilderment of the situation that the Protector shared. "Nothing, Protector. They requested an audience with the King, and demanded landing clearance."

    One thing was certain from these questions - the King was not expecting to meet with the Empire today. Anderos felt more uneasy than ever.

    "They're on final approach. I can divert them off course if necessary."

    Protector Carstan looked at the harbormaster as if he'd suddenly gone insane.

    "They're the *Galactic Empire*."

    Neither man had to strain to remember the days in which Feriae Junction was under the heel of dictatorship. Not enough time had passed to dispel the oppressive notion that it could happen again. Anderos gulped heavily.

    "It's just one ship, Protector. I ordered a sensor sweep, no other ships have arrived."

    "More the reason to permit them to land. See what they want, give them no cause for offense, and hopefully one ship is all we will see."


    At the throaty sound of a decelerating engine, both men looked to the distance. The distinctive tri-wing silhouette of an Imperial shuttle coasted into view. When it was nearly upon the landing pad, the low-slung side wings drew upward to form a pyramid against the dorsal aileron. Four squat landing struts dropped from the fuselage as the large transport drifted the last few meters on repulsors, thumping against the ground.

    Protector Carstan squared the cap on his head, glancing back to the harbormaster.

    "Keep the port batteries on alert, all the same. Pray we dont have to use them."

    Anderos nodded, using the order as an excuse to clear the landing pad - in the event of the worst. Carstan returned his attention to the landed shuttle, and the gangplank that now touched ground. A hiss of steam from the undercarriage briefly obfuscated the opening, before half a dozen stormtroopers filed through it, standing three men to each side of the ramp. The last figure to emerge exited on four legs, with all the appearance of a beast. That initial appraisal was dispelled the moment that it bunched it's stance, rising to two legs as it cleared from beneath the shuttlecraft.

    Whatever Carstan had imagined he'd see upon meeting the Imperial Envoy, this was not it.

    "Welcome to Feriae Junction," the Protector offered nervously, "My name is Protecto-"

    "I am not interested in your introduction." The Selonian cut off her host brusquely. "I have business with King Vashakhal. I will see him immediately."

    Carstan's brow furrowed in surprise, and he worked to conceal it with a more amicable expression.

    "My apologies, Envoy, but the King is presently occupied with domestic matters of state. I assure you he plans to meet with you shortly. If you would be so kind to inform me of the nature of your visit, it may help to expedite - "

    With no appetite for stalling, Vissica cut Carsten off with a snort, flaring her whiskers.

    "You will take me to your King now." A subtle gesture from the Selonian's paw went unnoticed, as the Protector suddenly reconsidered the wisdom of the Envoy's request.

    "I will take you to my King now." he agreed, now convinced that the Selonian's urgency was indeed well-placed. "This way, of course."

    The Protector and his guard escorted Vissica and her troopers onward without any more protest, as they filed into a nearby tram that would carry them directly to the palace district. As they walked, Carsten tried in vain to remember exactly why he'd disagreed in the first place.

  6. #46
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    Ben blinked, a frown on his face.

    For a moment there, he could have sworn he'd heard someone saying his name, but Shuvin was long gone seeing the sights, and their contacts weren't due back for another couple of hours. He stopped and listened, but could hear nothing else.

    One might think that an open access hatch to the shield emitter diverter on the dorsal hull might not be the best place to listen for someone calling, what with the thick metal hull and the cramped crawlways that held the wiring harnesses being good sound buffers.

    But Ben didn't let that bother him.

    "—n Merasska?"

    See? There it was again.

    "Captain Merasska?"

    Now he was beginning to think that someone was actually —

    "CAPTAIN MERASSKA! HELLO!"

    Ben jumped, smacking the back of his head into the thankfully rounded metal shell of a part of the harness system.

    "Kriff!" he gasped, staggering to his feet once he'd reached the hatch. Immediately his hand went to the burgeoning lump on his scalp and he hissed in pain. "What? What do you want?"

    "To talk!"

    He looked down. A woman, with a military cut and chubby features without truly being heavy stood there.

    "About a deal made earlier to meet us and talk about certain names," she continued, when Ben's answer wasn't forthcoming. Ben frowned.

    "It ain't all that smart to be shouting that out for the whole world to hear, sister," he called back. "And this much traffic to my bay'll attract attention."

    "Circumstances have changed, and you might be interested in just how so," she said, real urgency in her voice. "We need to move the cargo now, and we'll give you what you want."

    Ben frowned.

  7. #47
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    "So, a droid engineer looking to go to Cathar?" Shuvin asked, sipping her milk tea and leaning back in her seat. She gave him a considering look. "Didn't peg you for the kind of guy to like hairy partners, but..."

    Shuvin shrugged, as if put into movement not only her tolerance of such a thing but also her general apathy towards it as well. The gesture was at odds with her crooked smile though.

    "Looking for work out there? Already got a job? Ain't none of my business, but I'm curious so I'm asking anyway. If I'm prying too much go ahead and tell me where I can shove my curiosity."

  8. #48
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    The Royal Palace of Feriae gleamed and glittered with each passing source of light. It's impressive tower of polished white stone was given luminous qualities with accents of abalone tracing it's majestic features. During the Imperial occupation, the regional governor had seen fit to evict the King and usurp the property for himself, seeing no reason to let a symbol of authority go to waste. When the occupation drew to an end, a scorched-earth tactic of destroying the palace had been thwarted by the Rebels, preserving the seat of government for the nascent throne to claim once more.

    As Lady Vissica was escorted to the gates by the Kings' Guard, even a stoic such as herself had to account for the splendor of what stood before her. The sight caused her eyes to linger a moment more than they might have otherwise. The throne of Feriae was no trifle on this world. These people respected what it represented. A pity that the message had become muddied so recently.

    As the gates threw open with a slow groan, the phalanx of guard continued to accompany the Knight within. Vissica passed tapestry and finery without a glance, sated enough by the appraisal made at the palace's threshold. From the entrance hall, the main chamber lay straight ahead, it's vaulted ceiling and hovering chandeliers bathing the hall in prismatic light. It was all carefully conceived to draw a vistor's eyes where they rightfully belonged...the throne.

    Lady Vissica paused at the center of the room, letting her eyes take full stock of where they'd been lead. A gilded, high-backed chair, upon which sat a child.

    "Greetings, King Vashakhal." The Selonian rumbled, not prostrating her posture an inch before this frontier royal. "My name is Matatek Sel Vissica. I come in the name of -"

    "You were not invited here, Imperial."

    The child king's haughty, blue-blooded inflection spoke with clarity and force of authority enough to silence Vissica. The rest of the Selonian's intended words squelched into an impatiently-subdued growl.

    "This kingdom is closed to your kind. I will not suffer a creature of the Empress to stand in my sight."

    At the King's right hand, a middle-aged man in flowing purple vestments smiled nervously at the Selonian, then turned to the throne.

    "Highness..." the royal steward began, carefully, "...this Imperial comes in peace. Perhaps we should listen to him. Before we send him away, of course."

    "That would be wise." Vissica spoke in the space given by the steward's interruption, again turning all eyes back to her. "Rest assured, I have come to you in the interests of the people of Feriae."

    King Vashakhal was unmoved. Even swallowed in his regal garb and with baby fat in his cheeks, his birthright suited him.

    "You are part of the Galactic Empire, a once sworn enemy of my world." The King leveled his accusation like a sword. "Your kind have ever only come to offer war and oppression. Your words weigh nothing to me."

    The Steward seemed to wince at his charge's words. "Highness..."

    Vissica took a step toward the throne, causing every member of the King's guard to square their force pikes against her in unison. The Knight didn't take a second step. Her gimlet eyes kept unblinking vigil on the King and his steward.

    "I am a Selonian. I hold nothing more valuable than my word, Great King."

    She paused, glancing back over her shoulder for a moment.

    "Even this."

    Reaching over her shoulder, Vissica grasped the knurled grip of her greatsaber. No sooner did the back scabbard click open than a pair of force pikes appeared below her chin. The Selonian's expression was featureless, save for the raising of her whiskers. A guardsman finished the task of unsheathing her weapon for her, confiscating the greatsaber as he approached the throne. Two steps before the king, the guard dropped to his knees, raising the weapon for King Vashakhal's inspection.

    Lady Vissica didn't protest an ounce. She didn't even flinch. Her unblinking eyes kept fixated on the young king. Vashakhal's attention reluctantly broke from his guest, peering down to the heavy instrument before him. For a moment, the child king became child-like, his blue eyes brightening with a hint of wonder.

    "This is a laser sword?"

    The King glanced to his Steward, who nodded in confirmation. Vashakhal's eyes returned to the Selonian.

    "The laser sword of a Jedi Knight?"

    Vissica's flews parted only slightly, revealing her tipped teeth.

    "It is a similar weapon. One which serves the Empress."

    Vashakhal's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

    "The Jedi are all gone. Your Empire saw to that."

    Vissica didn't waste her time quashing the King's ignorance. It remained useful.

    "Such is the fate of the Empire's enemies, Great King. That is why I am here. We share an enemy in common."

    The Steward's expression slackened, and he broke procedure to speak with the Knight directly. "What do you mean?"

    At last, Vissica could speak directly to the arbiter of power of this world. Her head turned ever-so-slightly to the Steward.

    "Our province of Cathar has been attacked on several occasions by marauders passing across the frontier. It has proven difficult to trace their activity until now. We captured one of the marauders' starships in deep space. Her captain cooperated in providing the location of their hidden base."

    With every word, Vissica studied the Steward's face, which seemed to blanch the longer she talked.

    "A stroke of good news." he stammered through dry lips, forcing a smile. "It is regrettable, many of the unaffiliated worlds do remain lawless."

    The Selonian flicked her tongue along her muzzle.

    "The location given was here."

    "That is a lie!" The King protested, rising from his throne to stand before it. "You dare come before me and..."

    "Highness!" the Steward snapped, cutting off the King's protests with a raised hand. He turned back to Vissica, wringing his hands slightly.

    "Matatek Sel Vissica," the Steward tried the alien name on, finding it's alien-ness unsettling, "our war with the Empire has ended. We have no quarrel with you any more. Whatever this brigand may have told you, I assure you, it must be a complete fabrication."

    The Imperial Knight's demeanor remained cool and unmoved. "Then, you have no knowledge of these insurgents?"

    "No!" The Steward blurted, color returning to his face as he asserted his rebuke with vigor. "Certainly not! Even if they took shelter here, we...we would have driven them out. You see, many ships pass through Feriae Junction. Many ships. Unfortunately, it is impossible to guarantee all visitors have good intentions. But we are a world of law. Aggression...aggression the likes of which you allege. It has no place here. No place."

    For a moment, Vissica said nothing. She glanced to the King, still rooted to the spot with an unflinching eye on her, and then back to his steward.

    "I am pleased to hear this. Perhaps we can work together to discover if this accusation holds any truth."

    As the steward worked on crafting a response, his young charge took the lead, "I agree, Imperial."

    "Highness..."

    "That is enough, Kaiz!"
    The King overtopped his steward, his youthful hands balled into fists at his sides. "I do not want to suffer the Empire any longer than is necessary. Travel with the captain of my guard. I give you one day to conduct your search. After one day, if you have not found these criminals, you will leave."

    Steward Kaiz looked at his king with muted horror, which quickly became a feigned look of acceptance. Vissica kept her attention on the King as she carefully retrieved her lightsaber from the nearby guard's hands. Clipping it back to it's scabbard, the Selonian's tail lightly thumped the marble floor.

    "I accept your wise decision, King Vashakhal."

    Knight Vissica then bowed, her flexible spine slinking in deep prostration before rising again.

    "With your leave, I will begin my search at the Grand Terminal."

  9. #49
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    Quote Originally Posted by Shuvin Undhi View Post
    "Looking for work out there? Already got a job? Ain't none of my business, but I'm curious so I'm asking anyway. If I'm prying too much go ahead and tell me where I can shove my curiosity."
    From behind his steaming cup of liment-spiced tea, Loki's knotted brow untangled, and lifted in surprise. Holding a conversation with Shuvin was like trying to overtake a swoop bike in a one-legged race. There were leaps between questions and statements that defied logic, and yet, she made it seem effortless. Instead of tackling her most recent remarks, Loki clung to the questions about his work. And, even if he had felt ill at ease with her unbridled curiosity, where in the world could he possibly tell her to shove it? What a strange invitation.

    "I have no work arrangements in place yet," he said. It was a more coherent response than the one he'd offered at the mention of 'hairy partners,' earlier. Once he'd figured it was some sort of joke, however, he'd shrugged it off with an uncertain "Heh."

    The shrugging, this time around, dismissed the litany of doubts that came shackled to his confession. His plan was no different from the one that had brought him this far. Some might call it luck, but he remained confident in the knowledge that, as long as people needed droids, he'd always find work.

    "My rates are reasonable enough. All I need is the credits for bunk and board, and a little extra for my next trip." To emphasise his point, he produced the limp and useless flimsi from his jacket pocket. It was slapped onto the table before he could rip it in two. He wasn't going to give into despair again, not when he had company, and a particularly good cup of tea. The cup was raised to his lips for a sip, and then he considered the girl across from him.

    "So, what's your story?"

  10. #50
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    The culture shock and missed meanings were abundant here, she noted to herself as she picked up the flimsi and looked it over. She was used to it, being the fixer on a tramp freighter.

    "Ah, I'm nothing special," she said, still looking at the flimsi. "Just another making their way through the black, an' all that. I'm a mechanic aboard Alderaan. Cap'n Ben and Cerie and me and open space. Wherever the cargo takes us, we go, you know? We've had a few adventures, a few bad times. You're right about always having a market, but you'll need time and connections and credits anyway to set up a business, right?"

    She took a sip of her own tea. IT WAS SO GOOD.

    "I'd see about gettin' you a bunk, but we don't have a droid on board, and without a service or credits, Ben won't take you on. Sorry," she sighed. "I mean, unless you save my life or something. Would that be considered a trade?"

  11. #51
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    "Perhaps we can convince your captain I saved you from a dangerously hot cup of tea," Loki said, with a lift of the eyebrow, "I'm afraid that will be about as life-threatening as it gets around here. You seem like the convincing sort, though."

    His gaze roamed, as if in search of something remotely dangerous. Small round tables crowded the tea shop, packed tight into corners, next to windows that overlooked a bustling stretch of the spaceport. It was a small understated retreat from the chaos below, dressed in delicate fabrics of sky blue and sea green; sunlight blossomed at regular intervals across the room where narrow skylights pierced the roof, and, in the kitchen, a row of tall silver kettles belched aromatic clouds into the air. It was busy, in a pleasant sort of way. The hum of conversation fell on Loki's ears as music, and, for a moment, he almost forgot where he was. Almost.

    And she seemed nice enough. It came as no surprise her captain would be unwilling to ferry him to Cathar on nothing but good will, but then, he had never been one to go looking for charity in the first place. He would make his way under his own power. That was the rule. At least she was trying, though. A smile wasn't too much to ask, was it? He felt his face move in the way that felt a bit like exercise. There. He did it.

    "Tell me about this ship of yours." The name had not gone unnoticed: "Alderaan​."

  12. #52
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    "All right now, I'm gonna make a guess here," Shuvin said, leaning back in her seat and giving him an almost pitying look, "and say you just tried to smile. I could be wrong; maybe you just found an especially bitter part of your tea or something."

    She leaned forward again.

    "Do me a favor though and don't smile unless it comes natural to you, hey?" She grinned. "If you have to try, it ain't worth the effort."

    She drank some more of her tea, and flagged the server down and held up her empty cup.

    "Alderaan's a Ghtroc-720. Third generation, one of the last ships off the line. We've overhauled her so much though she only looks one on the outside. I'd bet she's just as fast as the Millenium Falcon was, with better shields! We've got better passenger capacity than stock without sacrificing cargo space, and we're better equipped to do a whole load of things out in the black."

    She stopped when the server dropped by with a glass of dark brown tea with small orbs suspended within.

    "Ah, sorry, I tend to ramble when it comes to my baby," she said.

  13. #53
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    With King Vashakhal's watch guard in her temporary employ, Vissica wasted little time in her task.

    "Protector Carstan, lock down this spaceport's departures."

    The ranking member of the King's Watch frowned at the request of the ermine guest.

    "The entire spaceport, are you mad? It will disrupt the local economy. What do you expect us to tell the star captains?"

    "You may tell them whatever pleases you," Vissica coolly dismissed, her posture slinking slightly as they walked. "so long as they comply with the order. Our priorities are the medium tramp freighters. Target ships with keels longer than seventy meters, and assign your scanning crews there."

    Carstan kept pace with the Selonian, but only with conscious effort. She covered ground with purpose.

    "I suppose we're looking for the obvious? Tibanna cells, explosive residue, arms components and the like?"


    "Don't be so rote, Protector." Vissica's almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly as she winded a passing breeze. "Our prey are inventive and cover their tracks well. Act on your instincts. Do not hesitate to detain on even a thin suspicion."

    Carstan eyed a nearby Ghtroc-class freighter, choking up his grasp on the force pike he carried.

    "You'll overwhelm the city jails with prisoners. How do you possibly expect us to sort the guilty from the innocent?"


    The big Selonian paused in her tracks, her torso pivoting 90 degrees to square up her partner.

    "You will find that I specialize in just that assignment."

  14. #54
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    Quote Originally Posted by Shuvin Undhi View Post
    "Ah, sorry, I tend to ramble when it comes to my baby," she said.
    "No. It's fine. I find it interesting. Honestly."

    With each stunted statement, Loki attempted more earnest sincerity. Inwardly, he winced at the 'honestly,' for it seemed to unravel the knot of words in which he'd tied himself up. It wasn't that he was uninterested - quite the opposite - but, in his quiet desperation to appear genuine - normal, even - perhaps he'd pushed himself too far. Shuvin was right: if it didn't come naturally, don't do it at all.

    "Sorry," he huffed, exasperated with himself, "I'm not impolite. I just seem that way."

    For a second, he lost himself in his tea cup. Any other idiotic words that could wander into the open were imprisoned behind a firmly-clamped jaw. He liked ships; he didn't have to convince Shuvin of this, he just had to talk about them. It wasn't that complicated.

    "I once apprenticed under a mechanic aboard an old YT-666," he confessed, wondering if his brief stint of poking around Layla with Cirr could ever be considered an apprenticeship. "I was much smaller back then, and the first thing I had to do was crawl inside the superstructure of the ion drive. The mechanic was convinced it needed recalibrating, but instead, I found a dead mynock."

    This time, he smiled before he realised it. Just the flicker of a fond memory, passing like a light across his face, before it faded from view. His gaze followed it, through the window, into the spaceport below. A shimmer of light, rippling like water over polished plastoid. They moved in formation, and with purpose; their weapons held aloft like banners. The smile was extinguished, and his face creased in thought.

    "Do you know who they are?" He directed Shuvin with a nod, "They don't look like airport security to me."

  15. #55
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    Shuvin smiled herself at the nostalgic expression that creased the dimples at the sides of Loki's mouth.

    "Now that's better," she murmured into her tea.

    Quote Originally Posted by Abarai Loki View Post
    "Do you know who they are?" He directed Shuvin with a nod, "They don't look like airport security to me."
    The Togruta glanced outside.

    "No clue," she replied, her brows coming together slightly. "Though if Cap'n Ben sees them, he'll probably panic and think someone's after him again."

    She almost laughed when she turned back to Loki.

    "Now to be fair, the Cap'n isn't completely off his chair. We've had a few close calls."

    Her face fell into a sad, wistful expression for a moment, like a cloud's shadow passing over the ground, and just as quickly.

    "But whatever they're prowlin' round for, it ain't gonna make anyone happy, I'm guessing. We should just sit still and see what happens, yeah?"

  16. #56
    TheHolo.Net Poster

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    Ben Merasska's Avatar
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    "Take off the blinders and binders," a voice said.

    Ben grumbled to himself as the thick cloth tied over his eyes was removed.

    "Was all that really necessary?" he asked, as the binders cuffing his arms behind his back were released too. The Rebel merely gave him a placid look.

    "Our lives depend on the secrecy of this place, and others. The weapons are somewhere else now, and we'll put them to good use."

    Ben huffed a laugh.

    "Somehow I doubt that," he sighed.

    "And yet you delivered them anyway?"

    "Credits are credits," Ben answered. They were sitting in what he thought was the back of a cantina. The Rebel was sitting at the far end of a grimy table from him, arms crossed over his chest and three blaster-toting guerillas behind him.

    "Yes," the man answered, leaning back in his seat. "But you're not only after mere credits, are you, Ben Merasska?"

    "I'm looking for a bounty hunter," Ben answered. "Bear Banthabrand. And more."

    "Oh?" the Rebel's eyebrow raised.

    "Should we be making deals like this right now?" the woman asked, stepping forward. "Imperials are here, and the King's own men are helping them close down the port."

    "Sounds like you have a host of other problems, but that don't mean you can't pay me what you owe," Ben interjected. The Rebel turned to look at a well dressed man.

    "You'll get your payment, Ben Merasska," the man answered, and turned to leave.

  17. #57
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    Matatek Sel Vissica's Avatar
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    As the King's Watch moved through the nearest freighter berths, Vissica held back two dozen paces, drawing a small profile commstick from her armored cuirass.

    "Report."

  18. #58
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    "The Rebels have captured our Tea Planet! Damn! That's dash cunning of them!"

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    Rolth Wygraant's Avatar
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    "The probes have all touched down on the planet's surface, my Lady."

    Captain Wygraant surveyed a line of half a dozen computer screens in the bridge's lower pit, standing behind a team of junior naval SIGINT officers making sense of the multiple data streams.

    "If these partisans are on Feriae Junction, they're being awfully clever about keeping quiet to the fact. Initial reconnaissance is at best inconclusive."

  19. #59
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    Matatek Sel Vissica's Avatar
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    "They are here, Captain..." Vissica droned in testy monotone, pulling the slack from the leash of Captain Wygraant's active skepticism.

    "There is more. The partisans may have official assistance. My feelings tell me the King's Regent knows of their activities. The King has permitted my search, but..."

    Wary gimlet eyes watched a pair of Protectors move toward the next berth, and the cautious Selonian stayed her tongue until they passed.

    "...I expect to be led into a trap. I will signal every half hour. If I fail to do so, you know what to do."

    With nothing further needed saying, the Knight deactivated the comm line as the protectors finally moved to the next ship. The Selonian moved to pass the Ghtroc when she slowed her gait, giving it another look. There wasn't anything outward to demand her due diligence, it was a feeling at most.

    Vissica approached.

  20. #60
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    Shuvin Undhi's Avatar
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    At Alderaan, the Ghtroc-720...

    At the entrance to the landing pad, all was quiet. The 720 looked fairly normal, with its hull in good condition but still patched with green plating in spots; the entry ramp was closed, and no mist hung about, signaling the use of hydraulics in the past half standard hour.

    As Vissica approached, however, a vidscreen near the entrance flickered to life, prominently displaying both Ben and Shuvin's faces along with a list of destinations and rates for transport of people and cargo.

    It should be noted that Shuvin was smiling while Ben simply looked surprised.



    At the tea shop...

    Shuvin sighed, watching the soldiers march past with mostly idle curiosity.

    "Can't do too much," she said after a moment. "This place runs on tourism and transport. Closing it down for even a short time will play four hells with their revenue."

    Her comlink buzzed, causing her to jump and nearly spill her tea.

    "Ah, someone's activated our fare-page," she murmured. She turned a mischievous grin Loki's way. "Wanna take a look and see who it is?"

    The small projector on her comlink glowed, and a tiny form of a Selonian appeared.

    "Now that's an odd look for a Selonian, don't you think?" she asked.

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