Dangerous Bait

[Vic Starfallen]

Vic gave a solemn nod to Marielle's observation about the chain of trust from Kris all the way down to their crew. Vic trusted both her sister and her captain, more than anyone else, which meant a lot given how little trust she bestowed upon most individuals. She operated well in chosen groups, but she was highly skilled at relying on her own self. She was territorial at heart, so no gods could save someone who crossed a person Vic Bonnie cared for.

"Will do."

When Marielle stopped her one last time, she quirked a brow and looked at the brunette. She grinned devilishly. For what she had observed, Mithra was a valuable recruit, one of the best they had added to the crew over the past months. "I will speak to her."

With one last nod, she departed the lounge.

In no time, she had delivered word to the deck crew; meaning she was now headed towards the engine room, where she hoped to find the "stowaway" as Marielle had once nicknamed their new mechanics. The first one she checked showed no sign of her target, so she cycled through multiple locations of choice for Mithra to be, eventually finding her going through files on her datapad near one of the storage rooms.

"Madellé Sev’rata," she purred as her intense eyes fastened on the gorgeous mechanics. Her eyes traveled up and down with lingering persistence before she looked at the other woman in the eye. "The Captain has been satisfied with your work since you have been aboard the ship. I have personally noticed some of your most recent upgrades."

Vic walked closer to where Mithra was, and she leaned against the nearby crate, her body brushing against the mechanics' as she did so. "How do you feel about a permanent position?"

[Mithra Sev'rata]

'Free to do whatever she pleased' was exactly the position Mithra fancied herself to be in. Gem like eyes glittered behind the natural leather of her mask, roving over Remy as though he very well might fit that bill. When was the last time she had observed such a fine male specimen? She could not recall. Her life had always been a more sheltered one until recently, considering her status as heir and her mother's paranoia; not completely unfounded, come to find out.

She took another step closer to him and truthfully, she had already been close to him. She was short but she didn't seem to mind tilting her head back to toss him a flirtatious wink. "I have a few more things to look over, of course. You are welcome to stay and watch, if you'd like." She invited with a purr, promptly pivoting on her heel and stalking deeper into the engine room.

It was there, some time later, that Vic would locate Mithra. Tucked away in one of the many storage rooms, her deft fingers rapidly tapped away at the datapad scrolling feedback from the ship's inner workings. One hand braced against a desk of sorts and her somewhat disheveled hair spiraled around her heart-shaped face, which promptly angled toward the aperture of the storage room as a new presence alighted there.

Her hand abandoned the datapad and her body turned, the small of her back resting against the edge of the desk and palms re-positioned rearward to support her. What the hell, did only sexy people crew this ship? The beautiful woman's compliments made her grin; really, if she was a puppy her tail most certainly would be wagging. Her talents were often disregarded in her normal day to day, it was nice to hear what good they were doing for once.

The woman drew closer, the subtle brushing of bodies prompting a shiver. Really, she shouldn't be allowed to say the word position. It was devastating to her girly bits.

"I would be delighted to stay on. This is the most fun I have had in years!"

[Vic Starfallen]

Vic realized it was the first time she had got such a good look at Mithra. The woman's looks were a delightful match to her technical expertise. The redhead was nevertheless sincere in the praise she offered. While she had no problem manipulating her way around; she valued being honest, whether nicely or in the most terrifying ways, when it came to Marielle's crew. Things had to run smoothly, and frankly that gorgeous stowaway was the best mechanics they had had in about forever. She deserved to receive compliments.

The First Mate was very happy to see her offer met with such enthusiasm. "Very good."

She subtly shifted her position, and brushed her fingers against Mithra's thigh closest to her, before resting her hand just below the blonde's utility belt. "I am very glad you are having that much fun, and would be very glad to contribute." If by now Mithra hadn't heard about some of her antics, then she hadn't traumatized the crew properly in a while.

"I want to make sure that this new position suits the crew's needs."

She paused, letting her words sink in for a small moment. "Captain Lafleche is open to you doing what you see fit with the ship as long as you run it by me, or by her brother." Remy's puppy looks at Mithra hadn't gone unnoticed by Vic, and she couldn't blame him, despite that she considered herself a lioness instead. The Lafleche man-pet could continue play the sexy puppy part.

"I am inclined to have you as Chief Mechanics; unless you can think of another position."

[Marielle Lafleche]

3 days, and one rather thrilling encounter with the Hapan Navy's finest, but not fittest, later..

Expansion Region, Ghost Nebula


The Hapan Naval patrol had surprised them just as they were leaving the Cluster. Marielle would wager that they had surprised them too. They were good hunters, and probably they could have overtaken the other ship, but it was not a fight that Captain Lefleche was after. It was her way, never to enter a battle that she was not positive that they could be victorious about. In this case, engaging the Navy had little benefit. Better to leave them behind altogether, then make the necessary adjustments to their return trip.

That was how they had exchanged the Transitory Mists for the equally as occluded Ghost Nebula. It was familiar enough to their crew, but beyond the jurisdiction of the Hapan Royal Navy, for now..

Still feeling a little superior about besting the fancy Royal vessel, Marielle remained on the bridge, arranged in the captain seat like a pirate queen. She'd spent the trip furthering her knowledge regarding Centares, the man they were meeting - Vankar, and brushing up on her Basic. Another day, two at the most, and they would be arriving to their meeting.

Ensign Marchand approached, handing over a datapad displaying the most recent scans of the surrounding area. No Hapan patrols, but there was something. Another ship was out there in the shrouded nebula, not moving. Perhaps hoping to go unnoticed?

Marielle smiled.

The crew was a little tightly wound. The chase with the Navy had been exciting, but they were hunters, not merchants. That they were being well compensated for their run helped, but it was not who they were. They craved a bit more, or that tension might snap.

"Ensign Marchand. Set a course to pursue.", Captain Lefleche commanded, giving them the hunt they all wanted.

[Mithra Sev'rata]

A piece of sugar encrusted stormfruit candy dangled from between Mithra's lips as her lightning fast fingers danced over her datapad; currently wired into auxiliary mainframe. Occasionally, her goggle shrouded eyes darted to the feed she had set up to monitor the outside of the ship and the occluded mystery of the Ghost Nebula. While she had lived a very sheltered life since now, her extensive studies of the worlds beyond had filled her with a keen interest regarding the Umbarans and their technological advancements. The kind of advancements that would certainly improve the capabilities of this fine vessel she had been enlisted to maintain.

There was a slight crunch as she bit into the candy, her eyes lingering on the feed and her fingers stilling on the datapad as a starship came into view. Oh, how exciting! She sucked the remainder of the confection between her lips and kicked off the desk she sat behind; the spindly rolling chair gliding over to the comm systems.

"Captain." She chimed in, her tone barely containing her excitement. "I'd like to inform you that I've improved output from the tractor beam generator, S'emparer de Kurh'n'nor should be able to handle the inertial mass of a ship that size with no problem. Auxiliary systems are primed for your order."

[Vic Starfallen]

Vic had been viscerally tempted to go after the Hapan Navy ship they had run into when leaving the sector a couple of days ago; but she had nevertheless agreed with Marielle against trying such a feat. Not only did her Captain had the last say, but frankly, risking their precious cargo in a fight they weren't fully certain to win would have been foolish. And the fewer runs-in they had with the Hapan Navy the better, in the First Mate's view. She didn't fear them, but the quieter they kept their operation, the better it was for the smoothness of their business. Sure thing they weren't transporters as was the job they currently had, but it was side earnings that were substantial enough not to be frowned upon.

The mood aboard the ship was different since the escape maneuver though. They were all wanting - needing really - to find a target. Vic didn't fancy herself so much of a hunter, but she still like a good chase, and not just when it came to her sexual conquests.

When the isolated Umbaran ship showed up on their sensors, the First Mate found the tension aboard the deck almost palpable. They were all salivating over it, and she wasn't the last of them. She was standing right behind Marielle's chair when the Ensign spoke to the Captain. A devious grin formed on the redhead's lips although her gaze remained serious, when orders were given. She was about to issue certain orders, when Mithra confirmed what the tractor beam could do. She exchanged a look with Marielle, nodding in tacit agreement about the course to follow.

Letting Marielle give the word when ready, Vic spoke across the bridge after a few words with her longtime friend. They were now almost in range to grab the foreign ship but they wouldn't take any risk.

"Artillery, get ready to fire on my command. Primary target: their top and rear canons. Secondary target: their satellite dishes," the redhead called out.

She watched the display before Marielle, and right on target, she spoke next. "Fire."

They were almost in range to use the tractor beam.

[Remy Lafleche]

In the belly of the ship, there was a roar of approval at the Captain’s orders. The crew responsible for manning the S'emparer de Kurh'n'nor’s starfighter compliment were ready and eager to be in flight again, and Remy was no different. A dozen pairs of boots thumped against the deck as they all jogged to their ships, flush with the excitement and anticipation of what was to come. While the main guns could be counted on to cripple their quarry, there was no telling what kind of fight their wounded enemy would put up - or what bounty they'd find on board.

“Readying to deploy on your command, Captain,” Remy said, broadcasting to the bridge from the cockpit of his Miy’til starfighter as he worked through pre-flight checks.

[Dasquian Belargic]

Continued from Counterfeits and Counterparts...

Dasquian was doing a particularly good impression of a man who wasn’t especially confident about his Sabacc hand when the first laser fire thumped into the shields of the Consular-class cruiser. The force of the impact caused the Senator's ship to lurch enough that the card’s spilled from Dasquian’s fingers onto the table, revealing he’d been holding an unbeatable Idiot’s Array. “Frak,” Belargic swore, both at the fact that the game had been brought to an abrupt conclusion, just as he was about to win, and that a deafening siren was now signalling that Senator Vorasq’s ship was under attack.

“W-what?!” Quist Dala, the Umbaran Senator’s aide who Dasquian had been fleecing out of a good number of credits, looked wide-eyed, his chalk-white skin somehow looking even paler with sudden fear.

The captain’s voice, which had only an hour ago been as smooth as the flight to Umbara had seemed it would be, now had an edge to it as it sounded throughout the ship. “All passengers, be advised: we are under attack. Repeat, we are under attack.”

Dasquian swayed to his feet as he felt the rumble of another turbolaser impact crashing into the cruiser’s shielding. “No one panic,” he said, as he watched the impact of the captain’s announcement ripple through the nine other passengers around him. The effect was immediate, with one of the Senator’s aides bursting into tears and another fainting. “Or do panic,” he said to himself, beneath the sounds of their shouts and cries. “I’m sure that will help.”

“What’s that, sir?” Quist was suddenly standing beside Dasquian, one hand latched onto his arm like his life depended on it. Perhaps it did.

Dasquian offered a tight smile. “I said I’m sure we can help, Quist. There’s enough space in the escape pod for all of us. We just need to get everyone out in an... orderly fashion.”

Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, some of the political aspirants and academics were tripping over their robes to sprint off towards the cruiser’s lone escape pod. Elsewhere on the ship, Agent Di Scarra would almost certainly be facing the same dilemma of how to marshall the remaining eight passengers. It was reassuring to know that there was at least one other person on board who could handle themselves in a crisis, at least.

With Quist trailing behind him, weaving his way through flailing passengers, Dasquian jogged to the room’s comm unit, leaning in close enough for his voice to be heard over the din. “Captain, what’s going on out there?”

The reply came through a crackle of static. “Please do not distract me, Agent Belargic. I have this under control.”

“You do?” The communication line went dead. Dasquian swore, once again. Under the instruction of the Senator himself, the Umbaran’s had only barely tolerated the presence of two Alliance agents aboard their ship. Now, it seemed their pride extended to willfully ignoring those agents and their expertise in the face of potential destruction.

Dasquian turned back to the Senator’s aide. “I’m going to the cockpit. You get to the escape pod and launch it as soon as everyone is inside, understood? Go!”

[Alice Di Scarra]

Alice had spent significant amounts of time exploring the ship, committing the layout to memory for future reference. She had always been good at canvassing places and promptly learning her way around new locations, whether in space or on the ground. It had been drilled into her both as an agent and as a Sith. It had always proved useful, whether for menial tasks or life-changing ones.

For the most part, the Umbarans had little to no interest in speaking with her, so keeping to herself was an easy feat. She was curious about them, but saw no point in attempting to strike conversations when there was no direct need or request.

Moments before the first hit reached the ship, shaking it violently, she had felt a tremor in the Force. She was already on her feet, senses casting their net into the fabric of the universe, by the time screaming started. She had somewhat hoped that the Umbarans wouldn't be such crying womp rats; but her hopes fell flat.

She had already learned that the one escape pod was big enough for the number of passengers the ship contained. She didn't contact Bellargic right away, knowing he would likely herd the Umbarans to said pod from his side of the ship. Instead she focused on gathering, or rather coaxing, the ones in her proximity.

There was a reason why she dreaded children and pets generally: herding them was a pain in the ass, and these Umbarans were no real different, much to her dislike. Her potent dark side just wanted to leave them to rot, but it wasn't the job she had signed up for.

She nevertheless used a few mind tricks to accelerate the process, which still took more time than she had wanted it to. But she couldn't freely exhibit her true nature.

By the time, all Umbaran passengers were in the escape pod, she opened her comlink. "Escape pod loaded. Status report?"

She had sensed him heading to the cockpit and was heading this direction, but properly checking was the right thing to do.

[Dasquian Belargic]

“On route to the cockpit to check on the crew.”

Another impact pitched Dasquian sideways with force enough to bruise as he collided with a bulkhead. In the ship’s multi-comm station, the communications officer had both hands clamped over the earpieces of a headset as she struggled to listen to her equipment. Through an open doorway ahead, Dasquian could see the ship’s navigator standing before a holographic chart, arguing with another officer about the wisdom of an unplanned jump to hyperspace.

“Comm silence, sir,” the communication officer said, pulling Dasquian’s attention back into the room as he planted a steadying hand planned on the top of a nearby terminal. A quick glance at the Umbaran’s uniform and the pips on her chest told him all he needed to know: Alliance Navy, deck officer. Dasquian recalled her name from the ship’s manifest: Dalla Magre. With the Consular-class operating a minimal crew of only nine, the pair of junior technicians who might have been at her listening stations were already nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve received no demands?”

“None, sir.” Dalla’s face was grim, but composed given the circumstances. “I’ve jettisoned the distress beacons. I don’t know what else I can do.”

Either the ship firing on them didn’t realise who they were targeting, or they didn’t care. For their sake, Dasquian hoped it was the former not the latter. “You should get to the escape pod with the passengers,” he said, nodding back into the interior of the ship.

Without time to convince Dalla any further, Belargic turned and strode on through the navigation station, not pausing to interject into the argument between the navigation officer and her technicians.

“The navigation dish is too damaged to - hey!” called one of them after Dasquian, as he stalked into the cockpit. The captain stood behind the pilot’s chair, while the pilot and two co-pilots trying to work miracles at their consoles. Coming up behind the co-pilots, Dasquian ducked his head low enough to see through the main viewport - and his stomach lurched.

There was no mistaking the shape of the Nova-class battle cruiser ahead. “It’s not marked, is it?” he asked, the words out of his mouth before he’d had time to think.

“It’s a Hapan ship,” the captain answered, noticing Dasquian for the first time and skewering him with a glare.

“I can see that, captain,” Dasquian said, scanning for but desperately hoping not to find the Hapan Royal Navy’s insignia anywhere on the Nova’s distinct wings. “They know we have a member of the Alliance Senate on board, don’t they?”

“We’ve broadcast as much, but to no avail,” said the pilot.

“Let me try?”

“Why would I-” The captain’s face twisted in irritation, but Dasquian cut him off.

“I can speak the language. Just put me through.”

Grudgingly, the captain gave the nod.

When Dasquian spoke, it was in the rolling tongue of his homeworld. “Unidentified Nova-class, this is Dasquian Belargic aboard the Alliance diplomatic vessel Argentine. We are unarmed and have no cargo of value on board. Continuing to fire on this vessel will be constituted as an act of aggression against the Alliance of Free Planets.”

[Alice Di Scarra]

Alice carried on towards the cockpit. Now that all passengers were herded into the escape pod, they could focus on what was going on. Whenever the pod would launch wasn't up to her at this point. She had ensured that everyone was aboard and that all was ready to leave the ship safely. They had minimum crew, and while it would me fewer losses if things went badly, it might prove a problem if they needed certain things. At least the Director and her could be of assistance, given their training.

Access to the cockpit was already open and she saw Bellargic inside already, the crew's faces saying everything there was to know about how they felt about the intrusion. They stared at Alice but didn't try to stop her though. The moments she saw what ship they were against through the viewport, she had all the information she needed. It was Hapan and unmarked, which made her think it was likely a pirate ship. There had been reports of more of the kind deploying across the Cluster and right outside of it in the past months. She had read the reports, and tracked down one of them, eventually shutting the operation down. In her view, using some pirates, the talented kinds who had solid networks, could serve the crown; but she knew that not everyone considered the idea of actual corsairs a positive one.

When she saw Bellargic reach to contact them, she pursed her lips. Sure thing, he spoke the language, but frankly, he had been away from the Cluster way too long. It was a mistake to have the male reach out when everything else had already failed. She should have been the one to speak. While she tolerated men better than other Hapan women, she could only see his current behavior as a crass lapse of judgement.

Since they could only wait for whatever would unfold next, she kept her senses on alert, trying to get a grasp on how many people were aboard the larger ship. The fighters hadn't deployed yet; but she knew it was a very likely possibility. She hoped that she shields would hold on, and that the canons were still ready.

[Marielle Lafleche]

It was all going quite nicely, the ship could be all but crippled in another few minutes, if that had been their aim. Once scanned, the captain had a detailed holographic readout of the Consular-class cruiser displayed at her left. It was in no way a match for their own vessel, but there seemed to be a bit of a potential risk regarding the occupants. If they were so inclined.

"Ready on that tractor beam..." The captain leaned forward in her seat, dark eyes intent on viewport before her.

She watched, waiting, almost wanting for the other ship to do something so stupid as to attempt to run from them. If they ran, the pirates would pursue. Their guns, and then their fighters, would disable the vessel, rendering it of little value. If that happened, the occupants better pray, to whatever deity they worshiped in this system, that they had something of value to offer the crew.

That did not happen though. The hails from the other ship continued, the Basic broadcast throughout the bridge. The captain rose from her seat, pacing slowly with her hands behind her back. Oh, they understood what they were doing. They were taking that ship. The captain smiled at the communications officer, who likewise spoke Basic, as though they were sharing a private joke. They understood. They did not care.

The next voice to speak, Hapan and male of all things, stopped the captain's pacing.

Her eyes widened at the name. They could not possibly be this lucky. Almost stiff with disbelief, she turned toward Vic to see if the name had the same effect on her first mate, sharing a look with her, but otherwise silent on the matter.

At once, the captain held up a hand.

The guns stopped.

"Do not respond yet. Put me through, ship wide channel.", she commanded.

"Company of the S'emparer de Kurh'n'nor. You made me your captain because I promised you that I could deliver you more than the lovely but limited confines of the Cluster, and prizes you did not know you coveted. You shall have all of it, and more besides. On that ill-made bucket before our eyes, such a prize waits."

The captain waited for the commotion her announcement had made to still, before once again signalling the communications officer. Marielle held up a finger for silence as a channel was opened between them. Between her, and Dasquian Belargic.

"Bonjeu, Dasquian Belargic. The Argentine will be brought aboard and then I will tell you what is of value to me. Now, think carefully.. and then let me know if it's to be the smart way. If what you say is true, I'll send the Argentine on it's way with nary another scratch, upon my word as captain."

[Vic Starfallen]

Vic watched the proceedings with utmost interest, relaying orders when need be, letting Marielle do it herself when required. They had worked together for a good while, which meant that they had impressive sync as Captain and First Mate. It wasn't lost on the crew, which was one of the reasons why the good ones stuck around. They had a true leader whose right arm also knew what she was doing. The fact that they most often saw things eye to eye helped make things progress in the right direction, including when ready to capture a worthy prey.

While they didn't speak of it, the redhead was hoping they would get to hunt that ship down. The thrill would be ramped up and the crew could use such things. What wasn't her surprise when a male voice eventually took over the rattling in Basic, and spoke fluent Hapan. Yet it wasn't what caught her by most surprise, even though her expression remained focused.

Bellargic was a name she was quite familiar with, just as Marielle was. The look they exchanged said all they had to on the matter. This changed things, at least partially.

She only grinned when Marielle spoke to the whole crew, and she enjoyed the cheerful reaction. They might not have enough details yet to exactly know what they would get from the capture; but what they already knew sounded promising.

[Dasquian Belargic]

The firing had stopped, at least. Now, Dasquian could hear loud and clear the screech and wail of alerts as the Argentine’s systems reported cascading failures. Shields at a critical capacity, communication relays non-operational, sensors unable to read any data. Fortunately for everyone on board, the short-range communication equipment remained operational. When the sound of the Hapan captain’s voice filled the cockpit, the Umbaran crew exchanged confused looks at the sound of the unfamiliar language. Dasquian glanced back at Agent Di Scarra, whose expression was frosty to say the least.

“What is she saying?” the captain asked.

“Either we allow a boarding party to inspect the ships contents, or they will continue to fire on us.” Dasquian held up a hand, stalling another protest. “If we can delay long enough, there is a good chance an Alliance patrol will hear the distress beacon. Without help, the Argentine has a snowballs chance on Mustafar of getting out of here.”

Shifting back into his native tongue, Dasquian reactivated the ship-to-ship comm. “Will you guarantee the safety of our passengers, madellé captain?”

[Alice Di Scarra]

Alice found the whole thing extremely bizarre. She saw no reason why the Hapan pirates would make such an offer to them, especially after having spoke to a male. They had them in the palm of their hands, and had no reason to offer security to their passengers. She remained silent, for it was clear that Belargic was handling the conversation for the time being, and there was no need to add a well-founded albeit slightly petty argument to the situation.

Her only thought was that his name had somehow caught the pirate's attention. She realized it was a far-fetched explanation, but he was Hapan and had been away for many years for the little she knew about him. And who knew what the hell his family had done in the past. She had never come across any Belargic before in her years of working for Hapan Intelligence, but the Cluster was quite vast and unless she had reasons to study or keep tabs on a family, her time and energy were better invested elsewhere.

Ensuring the passengers remained safe was their priority, and that was what Alice would put her efforts towards.

[Remy Lafleche]

"Company of the S'emparer de Kurh'n'nor. You made me your captain because I promised you that I could deliver you more than the lovely but limited confines of the Cluster, and prizes you did not know you coveted. You shall have all of it, and more besides. On that ill-made bucket before our eyes, such a prize waits."

In the ships hangar, the pilots of the starfighter squadron were practically bouncing in their cockpits.

"Are we good to go?" said a voice over the squadron's internal comms. "That sounds like a 'go' to me."

"Just... wait," Remy cut in. His fingers curled tighter around the steering yoke. Whatever they'd had the good fortune to find aboard the 'ill-made bucket', the captain certainly had a high opinion of it. The last thing they needed to do was charge in, half-cocked. Marielle had given her brother seniority over the squadron, on account of the experience he had gained serving in the Royal Navy. As much as they were lawless pirates, Marielle knew that they had to be prepared, to be focussed and strategic. She would give the signal when it was time for the squadron to deploy, and they wouldn't leave a second before it.

[Marielle Lafleche]

Standing behind her chair, waiting for the inevitable response, Marielle's hands gripped the back of the seat until her knuckle bones looked ready to pop through her skin. Her dark eyes never left the viewport, asserting all of her will on this one objective. Silks. Guns. Businessmen and credits, all secondary concerns to her.

When Dasquian's voice returned, the captain smiled, a slow savory expression. Not at all predatory.

"May Ereneda strike me down if I break my word, nary another scratch. Everyone stays put, and the Argentine will be on her way in no time.", she promised again.

So, so close now.

"Best tell everyone to hold on.", she suggested.

A nod from the captain, and the communications were cut off.

"Madellé-Chief Sev'rata, if you please? Get me that ship."

Captain Lafleche was almost certain that instead of a reply from their Chief Mechanic, she heard the crunch, inhalation of, and coughing out of.. candy? Even still, the Argentine was quickly tethered to the S'emparer de Kurh'n'nor in a beam of brilliant blue light. Marielle was a skeptic, but their newest addition had once again proven her worth.

"Stand down, Remy. We're coming to you."

Finally she let go of her seat, turning to Vic. "Let's go."

[Vic Starfallen]

Vic was following how the whole situation unfolded, ensuring that nothing went awry while different stations and crew members followed orders. She was also personally keeping a discreet eye on Marielle, the strong emotions the Captain concealed to the trained eye, definitely taking a toll on her friend. Vic knew that Marielle would handle it as she always did: with a good facade and solid results. But as her First Mate and longtime friend, Vic couldn't help feeling protective, even when she kept that to herself, sticking to the professional aspect of their partnership.

She waited in expectancy the moment Marielle ordered their new Chief Mechanics to use the tractor beam. She was satisfied that Mithra had been given an official position on board, and had wasted no time in ensuring that once the Captain had told her to do as such. Mithra was a remarkable addition to the crew.

The moment her friend turned to face her, she nodded to her, falling in stride as they left the cockpit.

[Dasquian Belargic]

The inescapable lance of tractor beam struck the Argentine and by slow degrees, the cruiser began to drift towards the wing of the Nova-class.

“The Senate will hear about this,” the captain said.

“I’m certain they will, and from Senator Vorasq himself, who won’t have been blown into space dust as a result of his captain’s unwillingness to admit defeat,” Dasquian said, turning then to look toward Alice and shifting from Coruscanti-accented Basic into his native Hapan. “If you have any contacts in the Royal Navy, now would be the time to call them.”

“Do you mind? We can’t understa-”

“What’s going on in here?” asked the communications officer, poking her head in the cockpit door and interrupting the captain.

“We’re being abducted, Dalla,” the pilot answered, dry as midday on Tatooine. “By… Hapans?” he added, glancing expectantly between the captain and the two non-Umbaran’s. Dasquian nodded.

“Agent Belargic invited them to come aboard,” the captain added, his tone far less even. “Next, I expect he’ll be suggesting we all… tie each other up, so it’s less of an inconvenience for these people to take us prisoner.”

Without turning back to face the captain or missing a beat, Dasquian said, “Maybe you ought to gag yourself, captain. Just to be safe.”

He turned his gaze over the faces of the crew, looking to each one in turn.

“They’re coming aboard, invited or not. This way, we at least get the chance to negotiate - which is rather difficult to do when you’ve been launched into the vacuum of space through a hull breach.”

[Alice Di Scarra]

The Umbaran general hissy-fit was ridiculous. They could have been shot dead, the whole ship a decaying ruin, if the pirates had decided to do so. Alice knew the model well, and that said a lot about the resources these pirates had. It was more than the usual raiding crews she had helped taking down in the past.

At Belargic's question, she shook her head. "If they didn't monitor our communications before, they are doing it now. If we try to double cross them now, we're ruining our chances of negotiations."

She did have contacts; but not only were they outside of the Cluster, they would likely set any alarm off because given the surprising but solid strategy of the pirates, she knew better than try to pull a dashing card from up her sleeve.She

She glared at the Captain still being outright annoying. "I'll gag him myself if need be," she snapped. There was something about the way the brunette carried herself that made the Captain recoil, and she didn't even have to rely on the Dark Side to make that happen.

Then, she looked at the Director. "Your name caused them to change gears. Give me the short version of why it might be, Director." She didn't care she sounded demanding; she needed any information she could glean before they met with the crew, especially as she might have to pull some weight in as a woman.