A Gangster's Kind of Crystal

[DeathToll]

The Republic light freighter warped back into space at a safe distance from the asteroids, though close enough to see the working system of a vast mining colony. The Fyrth Asteroids, a place of importance for the Jedi; and close enough to enemy territory to be under constant surveillance. More to personal matters, AbdAas thought to inspect the Opila and perhaps even the Jenruax here since there was report of explosion. But first came business. They would have to investigate the happenings here this evening. And with little sleep, AbdAas was curious to see how his Padawan faired with further guidance.

Corporal Figgs guided them in to position and opened comms with Fyrth base Beta, where they had been instructed to dock and meet with the Chief Administrator; as he himself was not used to coming down here but for circumstances such as these. Meanwhile, two Jedi had been meditating in silence in the small cargo hold after some light training. They were one, in mind, and in line with the harmony of the Force. For it was sustaining them; needless of food, rest, or even air.

~ "State purpose and clearance I.D." ~

"Uh... Heh, this is Figgs, uh, Corporal Figgs here, sir, and uh... HEY JEDI MASTER YER HONER, I KINDA NEED YOU UP HERE!"

AbdAas calmly breathed in deeply for the first time since their joint meditation began, eyes peacefully parting to reveal their usual white glow looking back at his pupil. His was a tranquil and softened countenance. Though it soon hardened as he collected himself for the coming duties. He unfolded himself and pushed up into a stand, squeezing a slight wheeze from his aging gut. He was still somewhat young in the eyes of his people, but that did not caste him immune to aches of long periods of sitting.

"Come, my Padawan. We will continue our training later."

He returned to the cockpit, folding his dark outer robes of ceremony over himself that he had retrieved along the way, and ignored his saucy pilot in order to address command and gain clearance. Once they knew it was the Jedi assigned to their incident, the Republic shuttle was allowed entrance and they flew in to dock along side the center hub of the mining facility in this sector.

AbdAas gathered his things and led Gnost towards the exit, entrance to the facility. As the doors cross-slide open, it was not surprising to see the Chief Administrator there with two guards of his personal security to greet them. AbdAas figured Chief Administrator Benjamin Csiv to stand more on ceremony than engage actively in supervising this strange occurrence. He was a dark haired fellow, shorter than AbdAas, with smoothly pressed suited clothing of grays and blacks buttoned up to his chin that might resemble a naval officer.

"Chief Administrator. I am surprised you would have the time to greet us here. I am AbdAas Oriatius, and this is my Padawan Gnost-Tok."

AbdAas would then formally bow, after opening with greetings.

Spoiler: Mission's Dossier

Fyrth Asteroids Mining Operation.

Official Report: Signature. Chief Administrator. Csiv, Benjamin.
...From as early as 1300, reports of unusual sightings have been coming in from loaders in the field. Disturbances throughout the shift have put us below quota for the third time in just over two months. Just after a Raker malfunction in Sector 8, an internal explosion in Sector 9 caught our attention. At around 1800, the mining craft 'Rangler 0-8', carrying four operators, was confirmed dark and floating off axis from the explosion and leaking fuel. It is unknown whether 0-8 was the cause of this explosion, though reports leading up to the event suggest some form of tampering. Majority theories include worker theft and operator intoxication.

Due to the nature of operations and Republic Relations Overseer, this report has been flagged and forwarded to the Jedi Database.​

 

[Gnost Tok]

Gnost rose with his master and followed him from the ship. He wasn't sure what to expect. It hadn't been that long since he had left Dorin and he had never been to a mining facility before. He stepped out after his master and saw the chief administrator standing with two armed security guards. At first Gnost was a bit annoyed. He found it inappropriate to be here greeting them when he clearly had other priorities to be focusing on. Perhaps he was here on protocol. However, Gnost didn't like the armed guards he brought with him, and he nonchalantly and subtly enough to escape their notice, folded his arms inside his robes and rested his hand on his training saber. His master had mentioned the possibility that the Administrator may be involved and therefore Gnost felt safe being somewhat cautious. He followed his master down the ships ramp and allowed his senses to stretch out, being sure to pay attention to any possible danger that may come their way.

 

[Jacques]

The light freighter Bensin Mar often called his own salvation sat dead in space, the lone inhabitant of the ship in a small, refurbished lounge area. It was completely empty, not running, by all means an abandoned ship. A distress signal looped from it, though without audio, just text. His plans were never grand, they were never brilliant, they were never an admirable work, but the job always got done. And the job never got done just by running out into space and winging it all, no, Bensin had thought about what move he would make for some time. Whether he'd need any muscle or if he could get it done alone.

But he didn't want to split this one. The information given to him was reliable, albeit vague. Crystals, valuable ones, were being mined by who Bensin had assumed was the Galactic Alliance. Not like he cared who he ripped off, it was just good to know who it was.

So the scouting process had taken long, over a week. The thief had watched one ship in particular do its work. Often out mining by itself, responding to a distress call from it would take longer than any other ship working their shifts. It'd also get distress calls the fastest, if he so chose to fake the miners out that way. From the scouting he had done on the ground, before the ship took off from its flight, it was lightly manned. Five members on board at the most, nothing that he couldn't handle. If they were armed at all it was light.

The day of the jacking, the gangster sneaked into the hangar bay where the unsuspecting shuttle sat ready for a new day of mining. Not surprisingly, a guard with little armor and a small blaster pistol and little sleep wasn't going to fight back against the barrel of a shotgun pointed in his face. The other two guards he came across, both separately, put up just as little resistance, which was a good thing for them.

Skeleton crews, Bensin thought to himself, in the middle of a war and the GA can't emply more than a couple guards to protect their mining business.

Lucky me.

In the hangar, the rest of the small skeleton crew; three miners exiting a ship Bensin hadn't had the joy of coming across during his short time of scouting. Without exchanging a word the three stared him in the eye one at a time, his shotgun pointed in their general direction. He walked, slowly but surely, making his way toward the three. They began backing up, back into the ship.

"Naw, naw, naw now." He called out, chuckling, "Y'all need to help me get onta that ship now." The gangster pointed back at the one he wanted using the hand not gripping the trigger of the shotgun. He used one arm to keep it pointed at them, now mere meters from them. One of the men pulled a key card from his work jacket, and Bensin escorted the three over to the other mining shuttle. Sliding the card and punching in a number, the landing pad set itself down.

"Nah get in there." Bensin followed them in, knowing he was short on time. He had his way into the ship, he just needed the card and the number the man had punched in. The last things he had to do was send the empty ship back out there, a little surprise stripped on with it, cut the fuel lines, and wait for the crew of four to arrive and take off. From there, he'd wait for them to come to the furthest point of their shift, where they'd run into his ship, floating uselessly along in space. Hopefully they'd realize the distance between them and the rest of the fleet of miners and help out the ship. If not, they were out far enough.

The plan worked out as he'd initially hoped. The charge was set and the ship was off on its route, where at the furthest distance it got from the Hangar Bay it was currently in, it would blow. Hopefully, by then, the ship he was hijacking was approaching the same focal point. He'd taken a sharp mechanic's tool and cut the fuel lines, making sure to make the cut not too deep, so the ship could make most of its trip.

For another half of a standard hour Bensin waited, the three men from the skeleton crew he'd kidnapped earlier knocked unconscious, their hands and feet bound, as well as their mouths, all four of them hiding away in a large storage area on the ship. The day crew arrived on schedule, and took off quickly, and worked for a while. The crystals were brought on board right in front of his eyes, in their glorious beauty, bigger than any jewel he'd seen in his life. Expensive looking. He wanted to lick his lips just thinking about the cash he'd get from this job.

Eventually he lost count of the time, even nodding off once or twice in the storage area. Each time more crystals were brought on board, along with other precious minerals and fuels and whatnot that didn't look nearly as enticing. Finally he heard the words he'd wanted to hear the whole time.

"We got another ship coming up on our route..." One called out, sounding confused and untrustworthy. He knew something bad was about to go down. Too bad he didn't know it already had.

"Friendly?" A fat Nautolan asked, not really caring. He was working with machinery Bensin didn't recognize. He left it, finished, wiping off his hands. "Looks dead!"

"It sent out a distress call...No audio, just HELP in text over and over."

A short, stocky man trudged his way through everybody, "Ya gonna fly over to it or not?"

"You want me to?" The unsure miner asked, turning around to face the shorter man.

"...Sure, why not?"

Bensin grinned and lit a cigarette, his Que given. Puffing he pulled his shotgun up to him, and walked out to where the four men stood crowded together, looking out to get a glance at the ship they were going to save. He pumped the weapon and braced himself as an explosion rocked the ship. They turned, just as confused as they had been before, when the distress signal had just started going off.

"Hey boys. You gettin' robbed!"

 

[DeathToll]

AbdAas made a mental note to himself to remind Gnost of Jedi formality and protocal. Gnost was a good Padawan. AbdAas just figured that he had either missed Gnost's bow, or that Gnost had picked up on the same disturbing lack of dedication in this Administrator that AbdAas felt and was distracted. Not a big deal, but AbdAas would remind Gnost later.

"Yes, well, you can understand that everyone is doing their part here. This is just a freak accident is all it is. ...Gentlemen?"

Chief Administrator Csiv gestured for the Jedi to walk with him, leaving the two guards to follow behind. He was very nervous, sweating buckets that he had to continuously dab away with his colorful hankerchief; but he seemed more incompitent than anything, not smelling of devious or unlawful decision. But he was having difficulty hiding his emoting failure behind his usual heir of importance from the Jedi.

"This little disaster is being handled with care. All personel are performing admirably under pressure. In fact we've just received a new distress signal from another one of our ships..."

AbdAas picked up his pace to be able to turn his aim more noticeably upon the Administrator.

"We were only informed of one loader in distress. Now there are two? Perhaps we'd best take lead on this investigation. Is there a ship, loader or otherwise, that one of your men might take my Padawan out there to inspect the damage close up?"

"Well, yes, erm, technically there is only one ship sending out a distress beacon, though now there are two ships in need of assistance. But, of course. I will have one of my guards escort your Padawan to the hangar, if you wish it? I'll have a pilot standing by."

"Very good, Chief Administrator"

"Please, lead the way to comand..."

Then AbdAas turned to his Padawan to voice his concern more intimately between them.

"Be cautious. I sense something is awry."

 

[Gnost Tok]

Gnost listened to his masters words and watched as they turned to walk away. He hadn't expected to be seperated from his master, especially this early, but he had faith in his masters judgements.

"Of course master." Gnost said quickly as they walked away and watched them leave. He still sensed something wrong with the situations. The feeling had started when he first arrived and had only continued to grow. He pushed that thought away though and turned towards the guards.

"Please, lead the way." Gnost said smiling and bowing respectfully. He stepped back, wanting them both to lead the way. He didn't know any of these people, and as long as he had this sense of danger, he was going to be cautioius in trusting anyone. Gnost followed the two guards towards a small shuttle and followed the guards on board. He turned to look back and saw his master and the administrator just leaving the hanger. May the force be with you! He thought and turned to enter the shuttle.

 

[Jacques]

"Please, please don't hurt us, none of us are armed!" The Nautolan begged, sweating already from the anxiety.

"N'aw, I ain't plannin' ta hurt'ch'y'alls. N'aww. Just takin' those fancy little crystals y'alls is minin'." Bensin eyed them with violent amusement, drawing from his cigarette hard. He put his shotgun down to his side and turned away. "They's pretty." He chuckled and walked over toward them, observing that mining was still in progress. The big 75% on the screen gave the gangster an ominous feeling. He wasn't a fan of such a low number. "Hey pilot boy, ya wanna dock with mah ship nah?"

The man behind the controls, a scrawny looking guy from Sullust, looked around at his buddies and gulped before obliging. The short human also eyed his crew mates, though in a different fashion. The thief flicked his cigarette to the floor and crushed it beneath his boot slowly, making sure each time the crushed cigarette scraped between the durasteel floor and heavy boot the miners heard it.

"Boy, a shotgun pointed at the ground is still a shotgun. You best not be plannin' a fight."

The two human crew members froze. For the first time Bensin noticed the last man, who looked like he'd been in many scraps and had torn many legs off. He was the size of a Wookiee and possibly hairier. But the man in the trenchcoat wasn't impressed. He still had a weapon.

"And pilot," The Sullustan turned around, just as the docking procedure had finished, "you best be shuttin' off everything but the thing that keeps on minin' these precious crystals; and I assume if y'all do that you can make the minin' machine go faster, so I suggest you do that too." The dumbfounded creature stammered slightly then nodded, pressing a serious of buttons and pulling a series of levers of which he had no knowledge of any of them. "Good," He made sure the completion percentage, now at 78%, continued to rise, "Now y'all follow me."

He led them gang of four to where he had the other crew of three. By then, they were awake, but were staying quiet. He had to admit, for hostages, they were pretty polite. After tying the two humans and the Sullustan's hands and feet up, he knocked them and the other three back out, just in case they got any funny ideas. Motioning to the fat Nautolan, Bensin said, "Yer comin' with me friend. If them machines break y'all gonna fix 'em real quick fo' me, see?"

"And you think cause you got a gun I'm gonna do this for you?" The man scoffed. He wasn't acting intimidating, but a lot of the more ignorant ones didn't.

The gangster laughed, legitimately, as he lit another cigarette, "And y'all think yah got another choice?"

The man shrugged, "You said you weren't gonna hurt us."

"I'm a thief, you expect me to tell you the troofs all the time?" Bensin blew smoke in the Nautolan's face, "You dumber'n I thought. Y'all's lucky you so good with machines if you ain't good with brains."

Shaking his head, the fat man gave up, his fatter wife at home presumably singing at that very moment. Bensin sat on a console across from the machine, where he could get a clear view of the completion percentage. Now it was at 84%. 9% in twenty minutes wasn't a pleasing number to Bensin, but the money he'd make was. He forced the Nautolan to load on the already mined crystals onto his ship. He'd set them down and bring more in and the gangster would load them in the secret compartments while he wasn't looking. Every so often they'd check in on the machines, until the loading was done. 94%. Approximately twelve minutes until the mining was done.

Bensin knew he didn't have much time left. They bided the rest of the time until the mining was done by loading each small bit of crystal in as they came. He didn't need the Force to feel somebody would be arriving soon.

 

[DeathToll]

AbdAas followed the Chief Administrator through the structure until reaching the bridge, a wide open clear-plasti view of the mining operation and distant situation. As Csiv and AbdAas pass through the main doors to command, eyes could not escape their entrance. There seemed to be an heir of guilt over every head here, having something to do with their lack of progress in the field for months on end; and now this. While they did their best to fix the situation, they seemed to be defeated somehow as if there was nothing they could do. It worried AbdAas to see people working like this. No doubt there was a flaw in the way things were being run here.

AbdAas' senses were bombarded with these worker's emotion, their view of him as their executioner as if this was the last straw. They feared layoffs and pay deducts, anything and everything that should come to those who continue to fail in their job descriptions. But AbdAas tried to ignore all of this as he stepped up the mini staircase and to the main holo-table where the leads to each branch of control worked. He waved them and their formalities aside, motioning then to be shown the comms. He would leave them to continue while he tended to his Padawan's shuttle. Disconnecting the wireless ear buds from the portable comms computer, he imbedded them into his own ears to ensure range of movement across all of control; opening a direct channel to Gnost's ship and the pilot's headgear, AbdAas flicked on channel two.

" ~Gnost. Gnost, are you aboard? ...Pilot, approach the site at a safe distance and allow for my Padawan to state our presence openly to the ships. If a connection cannot be patched, use your headlights to signal imminent boarding. But first circle the ships and allow for proper appraisal of the damage.~ "