Ask A Nice Day in Jail

[Essla Ta'dek]

Essla already hated this place.

She had drifted in and out of consciousness for about an hour until she had finally stabilized. It took her a moment to remember why she was in a kriffing prison cell, but slowly, her memory had returned to her. Getting shot down. The firefight. Finally getting stunned. All in all, a lousy day. So she had whittled away the time by fiddling with one of her lek and going over all the poor choices she had made. Not like there was any shortage of them. The Twi'lek sighed. Although they had left her armor on, it was just armorweave and too weak to stop any blaster bolts. Escape probably was not on the list of options. What they had taken was her helmet, leaving only her leather headgear to cover her head. "I'm an idiot," she grumbled to herself, lying on the simple cot that was provided in her cell.

@Fantasy Liver

 

[Dusty Daytonus]

"Hey hey don't talk that way about yourself. Positive thinking, right?" announced one King Dusty Daytonus, first of his name and the current reigning monarch of the Ploo system. Soon to be the entire Ploo sector if this string of victories held up. The Glymphid king, entered Essla's prison cell, flanked by two of his Royal Guardsmen. They were Glymphids, like him, and each carried a force pike in their hands and a pistol holstered at the belt.

Despite this setup, Dusty didn't seem ill at ease. In fact, he seemed to be having a great time. And why wouldn't he be? He was now fresh off of third successful military victory in this sector and had engaged in some truly harrowing dogfighting and lived to tell the tale. A born-and-bred adrenaline junkie, flying high against Essla and trading blasterfire brought him back to the good old days of swoop racing, where he'd started.

"Because I gotta tell you, no idiot can fly like that." Dusty complimented the young pilot, before gesturing with his hands. The cell door slid open and another guardsman came wheeling a deactivated astromech droid on a hand-truck. The guard deposited it into the cell and left.

"If you don't believe me, consider this a show of respect, from one pilot to another. We didn't really have an R6 head on hand so my tech boys slapped on an older model. Of course, they also told me they found a hidden blaster on the thing so they took that out too. But everything else in the little guy should be working like he always was." Dusty said, gesturing to the astromech. If Essla looked at the droid carefully, she could indeed see that it was R6-C2, albeit with a mismatched yellow head from an older R5 model.

@Interdictor

 

[Essla Ta'dek]

Essla's eyes fluttered open to see who had entered and then almost immediately closed again. "Welcome in, Your Majesty. Please, make yourself uncomfortable." Well, at least her humor was still there. And the compliment from the king certainly made her feel a little better about herself. "Well, thanks. Next time, though, remind me not to get shot down."

When the door opened again, she slowly opened her eyes and turned so she was sitting on the cot like it was a bench, facing the king. Said eyes widened when the astromech was brought in. Her astromech, apparently. "Cee-Too!" the Twi'lek cried, almost leaping off of her cot before thinking better of it. His head was different; he was deactivated, and apparently, his blaster was removed, but it was indeed R6-C2. Essla turned back to the king; this time, her eyes had a fair amount of confusion and a bit of genuine gratitude in them (instead of the usual bravado). "Since you're giving me my droid back, I'm assuming you have other plans for me besides me cooling my heels in this lovely establishment." she gestured to the brig area around her.
@Fantasy Liver

 

[Dusty Daytonus]

"And remind me not to get shot. Oh yeah, I haven't forgotten. I'm still banged up from those two you put in me." Dusty said, gesturing to his bandaged leg, which he was currently supporting with an ornate cane he'd stolen from a Plooroid history museum. But if Essla thought that his expression would darken at the mention of being fired upon, she'd be mistaken. On the contrary, his face was almost beaming with joy at the recollection, as if this crazy Glymphid actually liked the thrill of getting shot at.

"You gave me quite the thrill, I have to say. More so than any of my own boneheaded pilots. Don't get me wrong, they're good boys and they win battles but gods above they're boring to watch fly. The way you handled yourself up there brought me back to my swoop racing days. Your moves up there took some real balls, if you don't mind me saying. And in an ARC-170, no less. They're not exactly the most manueverable, although I love 'em to death."

"Actually, that's one of the reasons I came to you personally today. Your ship. As far as my men can tell, you weren't part of any Plooroid militias or the Greater Plooroid Wardens. And trust me, kid, I've been a freelance pilot myself, so I know you didn't really mean anything personally when you flew against me. Water under the bridge. Normally, in cases like this, I let the surviving mercs walk and go about their day."

"Of course, being the winner of a battle means you normally get to loot enemy mercs of anything fun they have on them before sending them on their way. And your ARC-170 is definitely fun. As you can probably tell, I'm a pilot myself and I'd love nothing better than to lead Dust Squadron in that bad boy. And in most cases, if I found one of these old relics on the battlefield, I'd have already stolen it from you."

"But you got gumption, guts, glib, whatever you want to call it. You're a natural flyer. And I'd love to take that talent too. So here's the deal, kid. If you want, you can take your droid, book passage on a freighter off my new planet and no hard feelings either way. But I keep your ship. If you want your ARC back, you're going to have to work for it. Meaning a month of training my troops. I want you showing them how to fly, I want you teaching them how to fly against someone like you, how to bank sharp turns, the works."

"What do you say?"

@Interdictor

 

[Essla Ta'dek]

Essla hadn't noticed the cane or the bandaged leg before. Well, at least I caused some damage, she thought to herself. The king didn't seem to mind getting shot, though. But Dusty wasn't done. And again, despite the fact that she was a prisoner, the compliment made her feel better. She had taken out a fighter and who knows how many ground troops during her short combat flight. "Well, I'm relieved you're not going to execute me or use me as glorified target practice," the Twi'lek said with a raised eyebrow. But then he mentioned taking fun things. And in the next sentence, he called her ship fun. Her ship. It took every ounce of self-control she had to avoid jumping up and slugging the Glymphid. Even then, her lekku twitched, her eyes narrowed, and she clenched and unclenched her fists.

"I-" But the king kept talking. A job offer. Again. She must have really impressed Dusty for him to give her such an offer after she had shot him twice. He wanted her to train his pilots. And in exchange, she got the Wespre. "I...fine," Essla said hesitantly, holding out her hand in an invitation to shake on the deal. Once that was dealt with, she cleared her throat. "I'm assuming there are rules. Something tells me that having a rouge Twi'lek running around your property isn't on your wishlist." Once he had answered that question, she asked two more. "What am I flying, and when do I start?"
@Fantasy Liver

 

[Dusty Daytonus]

"As you saw yesterday, my forces mainly fly the old A-Wings. Normally backed up by some gunships and civilian freighters. So you'll start in one of those. Show my boys how to stretch that old bird to its limits and how to counter bigger ships and faster ships. After that, maybe you start flying your ARC again and show them how to counter someone like you for the next battle. Deal?" Dusty asked

"As for rules, your droid has a restraining bolt and your ARC has an atmospheric lock. Both will be disabled once you've put in your time. As for lodging, you have a problem with your current cell?"

@Interdictor

 

[Essla Ta'dek]

Essla nodded as Dusty listed off the answers. A-Wings were manageable, and she had always been interested in getting behind the controls and seeing how craft like that flew. "Okay, I can do that," she mumbled, half to herself and half to the king. And then came the rules. Cee-Too had a restraining bolt, no surprise there. The atmospheric lock on her fighter was unexpected, but she should have known about that. "Not really," The Twi'lek replied in response to his query on her cell. "But don't say I didn't warn you if I end up digging through your scrap looking for some trinkets to entertain me." With that, she leaned against the wall, hands behind her head. "If I find anything, I promise to let your guards know. Wouldn't want me taking on your troops with a hydrospanner," she deadpanned, as if already getting comfortable. Which she was. She was also going to look through the scrap metal dump as soon as possible. Hey, maybe she could even find Cee-Too the right kind of head.
@Fantasy Liver

 

[Dusty Daytonus]

"Well, you won't have to go far to let em know. At least one will be posted to follow you everyday. Nothing personal, I'm sure you understand. But you did shoot me." Dusty pointed out. Pleased that he had a new flight instructor for the month, Dusty brushed off his gleaming white cloak and adjusted his crown before exiting the cell.

"And if you're ever looking for paying work after the month is up, we could always use good pilots."

@Interdictor

 

[Essla Ta'dek]

Essla nodded. She had shot him, so the guards seemed reasonable. "That's fair." Then, he offered her a paying job after the month was up. Hey, it would be better than running around looking for the odd job to keep her fed. "Perhaps," was her only reply. And it might have just been her imagination, but she could have sworn her life was about to change. For the better or the worse, she wasn't sure.
@Fantasy Liver