Ask Nar Shaddaa A Swift Escape

[Kel Dryden]

Bochaba the Hutt's Warehouse
Hutta City, Nar Shaddaa

[Huttese] "Ah, Dryden. About time. We're wrapping up this joint," the Hutt slithered between the racks, as droids and mechanical loaders relieved them of the numerous crates. Bochaba was followed closely by a couple of YD security droids armed with E-11 blaster rifles. Quite the precautions, even for him. Kel had to speed up a little to keep up with the Hutt. That was saying much—Bochaba wasn't known for his speed.

"What are we even up against?" the scoundrel asked, as the Hutt stopped again, looking at a few of the more valuable crates that were being loaded onto a cargo platform. "Hard to say. But I've lost contact with 3 other warehouses. This is the last one..." he paused for a moment, before turning towards the scoundrel and exclaiming somewhat angrily—as evidenced by the slime flying out of his mouth and landing at Kel's shoulder: "For all I know, it could be your fault, Dryden. Remember that botched ship robbery job? How many escorts did you say had arrived at the site?"

"Of course you'd bring it up and blame anyone but yourself, the one who ordered that raid," Kel thought while cleaning off the slime. Outloud he said a different thing: "A few fighters and a combat freighter. But if the things are that bad, shouldn't we just forget about the cargo and run?" It made sense; whoever Kel had been up against during the failed raid, they had at least as many assets as Bochaba. And now they presumably had Bochaba's warehouses, and held the Hutt himself by the tail. The Hutt didn't like it, venting his anger on his subordinates: "I decide when we go. And we do it after we grab what we can. I've just sent a load of spice to the Swift. Now go and keep her warm and ready for my arrival, Dryden. But not like you kept it warm for Captain Taro." The Hutt... chuckled nervously? Kel couldn't say for sure, but Bochaba had definitely lost control.

And yet again, he had reminded Kel about how he had fled the botched space piracy attempt aboard the Black Swift... Leaving everyone but the ship's astromech either spaced, or aboard the disabled freighter, just as it was getting surrounded by enemy. "I'm sending one of the droids with you. To keep the Swift safe, and to make sure you don't have any... ideas."

The Hutt didn't trust his pilot with the most prized ship, and Kel could see why. Luckily, his services were still needed, especially now. Kel didn't really mind the touche and the extra protection: "Yeah, sure. Let's go, tin-can." With that, he'd walk towards the back entrance, followed by one of Bochaba's droids. Even with the extra droid and with standard gear (flight suit under the leather jacket, and DL-44 blaster pistol holstered on the hip), the scoundrel couldn't but feel the tension: Bochaba's and his own.

It was like a string that was stretched too hard, about to snap. And the closer Kel went to the back door, the stronger that weird gut feeling became...

 

[Kel Dryden]

The door slid open with a metallic hiss. The next moment, before the scoundrel could even see who was on the other side, a blaster bolt hit the chest-plate of his flight suit. Grabbing at the gaping hole in his armor as he felt the heat of plasma burning through it and leaving a mark on his chest, the young man fell onto his back on the ground.

Kel didn't expect a masked armored man with a blaster pistol. Luckily, that man hadn't expected Kel either, or else he would've aimed for the head. Nor did the man expect a security droid with the blaster rifle right behind the scoundrel. The droid, however, was programmed to react immediately whenever the situation required. Several blaster bolts to the head and chest made sure that the thug would never hurt anyone again.

The blaster shots and Kel's yell apparently served as a signal to other attackers. The front loading bay doors opened, and multiple mercs filled the warehouse. The place that was peaceful moments ago turned into a warzone Bochaba's own guards let fly at the intruders from the catwalks. However, the attackers had prepared for that. There was at least one attacker coming from every back door, an soon the Hutt's guards up above got pinned down as well.

"Dryden! Security! Over here!" Bochaba yelled, cowering behind one of the crates he had been inspecting moments earlier. Kel turned to the stomach with a grunt and stood up on his fours, only to see his droid protector head towards Bochaba, while firing at the hostiles up the catwalks.

"Of-kriffing-course!" Kel cursed at the prospect of being left behind like that with whatever merc who could barge into the warehouse from this door... However, he couldn't stay angry at the droid. Especially after a blaster bolt from the front area of the warehouse cut its head clean off and made the metallic protector collapse on the floor, letting go of its E-11 blaster rifle.

Kel crawled forward, trying to hold the grunts coming through his clenched teeth. He wasn't in his best shape to fight, but he could use a weapon other than his blaster pistol. With a shaking hand, he gripped the weapon, still lying on the ground.

Through the racks, the wounded scoundrel couldn't quite see who had the advantage. He heard blaster fire, Bochaba yelling something in Huttese to his guards, and saw a few hostiles up the catwalks flanking the Hutt. Kel had two options: get into the fray and perish, or try to cash out while he still could. A simple choice for a man like him.

Standing up on his knee first, then on his feet, he'd hold to the wound with one hand and to his new blaster rifle with the other. Hopefully, the thugs were too busy sorting out who'd be in control of the warehouse. Kel made a few unsure steps, stumbling on the door post. At least he could still walk. Getting into the back alley, he looked where to go, before deciding to get further between the buildings, and away from the loading bay.

As the scoundrel slowly sped up and took a turn, he heard noises of at least a couple of men running after him. Apparently, his absence and the death of one of the attackers wasn't entirely unnoticed. Just as Kel looked behind his shoulders and sped up to leave the alley, he crashed at full speed into something that hadn't been here a mere moment ago. The hit made Kel fall on the ground with a pained grunt. He didn't even bother to see who or what he had crashed into. Instead, he'd try to get behind a trash container and prep his rifle to fend off the attackers.

Spoiler: OOC

Dice rolls for the situation. Since it's a self-DM thread, I think I didn't have to do dices. But it helped me come up with a more compelling story.

@wayvvardking

 

[Kicks]

For as much as the galaxy spoke of Nar Shaddaa, one would think everyone sashayed between sky-breaking towers with the confidence of Trandoshans or Wookies, but in truth, the Hutt-'controlled' moon required a certain type of individual to even breach its atmosphere for being at near-certain risk of dying. They didn't call it the Smuggler's Moon for nothing, and as far as organics go, K-1C5, better known as Kicks, didn't hate the members of the Crymorah Syndicate--a powerful member of the infamous Five Syndicates. They had crafted a strong foothold on the moon some years back, and despite the rock spinning in Hutt Space, the Crymorah developed their headquarters alongside the Hutts. Perhaps call it honor among thieves, but thus far, his syndicate and the Hutts hadn't lashed out at each other... yet.

Despite all his years working at a Corellian ship yard, the KX droid disliked flying. With the ground blessedly under his feet again, he decided to risk a stroll before moving towards HQ. The Crymorah could wait on his report from Coruscant; the Droid Gotra was nearly synonymous with the Crymorah, but it weren't the same entity.

Territory was a topic K-1C5 thought upon regularly. Coruscant and Nar Shaddaa were more alike than upstanding citizens liked to believe with their lairs of criminal life, ruling powers vying for greater control and sprawling urban facades. He believed the Crymorah could seize more than what they held on the moon if only they were more diligent about spying on the Hutts. It might had been Hutt Space, but what if the Crymorah could change that? Of course, the other four of the Five Syndicates wouldn't stand for a power grab such as that, but the dream was invigorating.

If for nothing else than to extend his fantasy, the tall droid wrapped a cloak over his body and took to some snooping. As dangerous as Nar Shaddaa was, K-1C5 wore the confidence of a Wookie. Danger didn't find him, he was the danger . . .

Two hours and thirteen minutes later, K-1C5 found nothing of note. Slightly disappointed, he was about to head back towards his trip's intended destination, but the undeniable sound of a blaster bolt drew his attention. Turning his body towards the fray, the droid took off running until he heard footsteps of his own. Halting before the edge of the alley wall, Kicks fingered his blaster and pivoted around the corner.

SMACK!

The small organic, as all humanoids were, ran straight into his chest plate and fell to the floor. Most would have been terrified to run into a KX droid, but this wasn't the case. Instead, the human shuffled towards edge of the alley and didn't bother looking his way. That was a mistake. Kicks himself made the second by not looking down the alley to understand why the human fled.

Taking a few steps towards the alley-rat, Kicks didn't waste any time and forfeited all sense of pleasantries. Reaching down with his left arm, the droid pulled the human up into the air so their eyes would align. "I think you owe me an apology before I bash you against this wall." Kicks might not have facial features like organics, but the squinting of his eye sockets and the blaster in his hand made his intention clear. "Speak," he shouted, while shaking the man in his arm. The droid had little patience for organic scum--he knew they would exploit his droid brethren at any cost if it saved their skin, but before Kicks could pull the trigger, a blaster bolt slammed into his shoulder plate and surprised Kicks enough to relinquish the human. Fortunately, the hit wasn't more than a graze, but now the droid's attention was on the incoming attackers, leaving the human free to do as he wished.

@Catbert

 

[Kel Dryden]

As Kel aimed his blaster and was about to let fly at his pursuers, he suddenly lost the ground from under his feet and ended up face-to-face with a tall droid... Wearing a cloak? "I think you owe me an apology before I bash you against this wall. Speak." Going from "wounded and running for his life" to "being manhandled by a scary murder-bot" in a matter of moments, the scoundrel couldn't even manage to come up with a reply. In fact, he didn't even have the time to get sufficiently scared. Not before his pursuers had shown up and demonstrated their intentions by shooting at anything that seemed like a target.

Kel didn't even realize how lucky he was. One of the bolts could've hit him on the back, or the droid could've used him as a meat shield. Instead, the droid's shoulder got grazed, and the young man ended up flying towards the ground, barely holding onto his newly-acquired E-11 rifle. Hastily crawling towards his previous cover and mounting the rifle on it, he took a couple of quick shots at one of the pursuers, gunning him down. Not keen on pushing his luck further, the man ducked, his back now against the trash container. He prepared for retaliation.

"Of kriff..." Kel mumbled a few moments later, as he saw a Cyclone landspeeder stopping in the distance on the opposite side of the road. It had brought at least 4 more mercs. "They've got more coming. We're bantha fodder if we stay here!" Kel yelled to his new unlikely companion. As the passengers attempted to leave the vessel, Kel took 2 shots at them in quick succession before ducking behind cover again.

At least one of his shot hit, wounding one of the attackers. Hopefully, the others now would be delayed at least a little bit, giving Kel and the droid a chance to formulate the escape plan. Speaking of which... The scoundrel looked at what the droid was doing, and prepared to take a couple more shots from cover at the reinforcements from the speeder.

@wayvvardking

 

[Kicks]

Suddenly blaster fire stemmed from his position back at the organics that shot his arm. Craning his neck back and forth between the human that bumped into him and his pursuers, Kicks let loose a low groan. How had he walked into this situation?

Sending a few shots of his own towards the people that hit his shoulder plate, Kicks leaned his thin neck towards Kel after acquiring cover with him. “Either you’re really important or really stupid. My analysis of the situation favors the latter eighty-seven percent to thirteen percent.” The droid poked the brown haired man square in the chest. “You better hope the odds are wrong, Fleshwalker.” With that, Kicks stood and fired twice, landing a hit square upon the helmet of the attacker that shot him initially.

When the white speeder arrived and even more assailants came to cut off the human’s escape, Kicks’s programming sent him another chilling risk percentage. The chance of escape narrowed and the attackers probably didn’t know the allegiance between himself and the human. To them, they were on the same team despite his own convictions towards nearly every organic being. At least he isn’t dead weight, he thought as one of the speeder members dropped.

“We need an escape.” The words would come without the KX droid looking at Kel, but it would be clear that he meant the newly arrived speeder. Kicks holstered his blaster and banged hard on one of the many scattered trash canisters. Breaking the lid off its hinges, he set the tall steel barrier between himself and the destination. Blaster fire immediately bounced against the impromptu shield, but for now, it held within his strong hands. “Move it, blood bag, and use the gun.” There were still at least three bodies in their path forward and one behind them. Time was of the essence, and it wasn’t clear if the human was up to the task. Kicks on the other hand wasn’t going to die in some alley by organics. He’d rather be picked apart by pit droids than fall here.

@Catbert

 

[Kel Dryden]

Woah, ain't that effective? Kel couldn't but admire the droid's ingenuity as the latter produced a mobile cover large enough for both of them. The scoundrel took a couple of shots down the alleyway to dissuade pursuit—even though the last thug remaining there had already been injured by him or the droid. Then the murder-bot issued the command to get a move on. Adrenaline made Kel disregard the droid's arrogant demeanor for now—what mattered is that without his unexpected ally, he'd have been dead by now.

"You got it, tin... man!" the scoundrel quickly corrected himself, realizing that he wasn't dealing with your average security droid. After taking cover behind the impromptu shield, Kel peeked out and took another opportune shot at one of the three mercs who were moving towards their position. The blaster bolt hit the chestplate, sending the merc on the ground. Maybe dead, but most likely just wounded.

Kel returned to cover and looked back just in time—their pursuer from the alley had finally caught up with them, holding to his stomach and grunting as he tried to aim the blaster pistol at the pair. Kel didn't have second thoughts about shooting the wounded goon first. A couple of bolts from E-11 took care of that little problem.

Meanwhile, the two mercs remaining up front changed tactics and found a cover of their own—the speeder they had arrived in. Kel peeked and tried to take a shot, but this time the attack was ineffective, grazing off the speeder's hull instead. "Dosh!" the scoundrel cursed, as both sides seem to have dug in. At least Kel's cover was mobile and smart... However, the scoundrel could only guess how many shots their impromptu shield could take.

But then the speeder started moving. Apparently, one of the mercs had gotten behind the wheel. Hiding under the dashboard and glancing up from time to time, as he drove the speeder straight at Kel and the droid. The last remaining healthy merc would jump into the speeder shortly afterwards. At first the speeder would go slowly, but then sped up at a steady pace.

"Doshin' kriff!" Kel cursed again as he took a quick shot at the driver. However, the man ducked, and all that the scoundrel achieved was a broken windshield and a burnt seatback.

@wayvvardking

 

[Kicks]

The weight of the metal was immeasurable and bore no significance to the droid, but the blaster fire was another matter. With such a large target, and clearly in the open of the alleyway, the three gunmen at the speeder opened fire. Blaster bolts rained upon the shield, jarring Kicks's arms. The droid held fast and redoubled his grip, but the battle wasn't against his will; that was a battle he'd win. No, the contest was how long the battered trash lid would last against three blasters, and the droid didn't need to run an analysis to know where those numbers stood.

The human understood the droid's intention and moved to align himself with the shield. "Did you just--" Kicks momentarily turned to face the man in the thrall of fire and swiveled his head towards him. Fortunately for the Kel, a few blaster bolts ricocheted against the wall next to them and reclaimed the droid's attention to the task at hand. Truthfully... and begrudgingly... the KX droid needed the man as much as he needed Kicks. Only together could they hope to escape, but the K-series would never admit that freely--one to shield and one to shoot. If the pair made it out of there alive, K-1C5 would see if the man could finish that sentence to his face.

And shoot he did. One of the mercenaries took a shot to the chest, reducing the hammering Kicks felt against their lifeline, but the shield wouldn't hold much longer. Towards the edges, where the lid was thinner, gunfire penetrated. Even towards the 'meatier' center, dents threatened holes in a growing number. The wounded attacker from behind them dropped, which meant the assault was now only ahead of them. Strangely, the gunfire ceased. "We have them on the run," he bellowed in triumph, but the droid was wrong. Instead of retreating, the assailants took to the speeder, and Kel's swearing intensified. Apparently, the meat suits had escaped the eye of Kel's E-11 and sailed towards them while gaining speed. He might be strong, but he wasn't willing to stand in the path of a speeder. Tossing the trash canister lid like a Frisbee at the speeder, metal met metal, but ultimately did nothing to sway the trajectory of their opponents. "Move!" Kicks dove to one side leaving the human to fend for himself.

@Catbert

 

[Kel Dryden]

The droid had obviously taken the almost-said "tin can" personally. Luckily, that wasn't the time to settle the differences and apologize. Especially with the enemies still firing at them. The scoundrel saw that the shield was giving in, and the vehicle speeding at the duo was about to make things much worse. The droid didn't have to ask twice to dodge—Kel was the one to notice the speeder, and escaping was his first instinct. Especially after their bolt-ridden shield had just been thrown at the incoming vehicle.

The scoundrel jumped to the opposite side from the droid. It didn't matter if he'd fall on the ground—Kel's only instinct was to find cover as soon as possible. As his side hit the ground, he rolled behind the nearest parked speeder. It inflicted burning pain when Kel rolled on his recent wound on the chest. With an angry grunt, Kel rested his back against the new cover.

As he lied there, recovering, he felt... something. Uneasiness, like a string was about to snap. It almost always meant "more trouble". And when he heard the roaring sound of the incoming speeder moments late, Kel realized what it was. The driver had turned around for another go.

Turning on his stomach again with an angry growl, Kel mounted his E-11 on the hood of the speeder he was hiding behind. Then he quickly looked down the sights, hoping that the two other mercs would be too busy to react. Driven by pain and fear for his life, Kel found where the head of the speeder driver would appear moments later. "Come at me, you sleemo!" he yelled angrily. Perhaps that the attention of all the opponents in the area; hopefully, it would them briefly. A moment later, the scoundrel pulled the trigger and ducked back to cover to avoid any shots at his direction.

Kel didn't see if the shot had hit. Moments afterwards, the scoundrel's cover "rebelled" against him, tossing him backwards. At least that's how it felt to Kel. In reality, it was the mercs' speeder that had crashed into it. Kel let out another pained grunt as he landed on his chest. Face puckered up, he coughed and tried to crawl back to cover and catch his breath. Hopefully, the crash would at least delay the merc in the speeder... Unless the droid had taken care of him already.

Spoiler: OOC

Dice rolls for the situation.

@wayvvardking

 

[Kicks]

There wasn't much choice in where to land. His old bucket of bolts clattered harshly against the ground as he was built less for acrobatics and more for sturdy combat, nevertheless, Kicks's landing graced the open road instead of the confined alleyway. On any civilized planet closer to the Core, authorities would have found the source of blaster fire by now, but here on Nar Shaddaa, a day without scuffles was a day not worth living. One could argue that the Hutts were the authority on the moon, and largely that would be true. Although, the advantageous peace among the other syndicates placed 'the badge of law' on all criminals, giving Kicks and others license to do as thy willed.

Crymorah will hear about this. It was an idle threat he made while gaining his footing. Brainless organics don't know who they're messing with. Kicks's blaster still had plenty of firing power remaining, but it was still left undecided on who would be at the receiving end. Obviously, the attackers had to be dealt with unless they ceased and desisted--the odds weren't favorable--but the better question was who the human was. If he was important, then the Crymorah could make a shiny coin on his ransom, and if he wasn't. . . . Well, time would tell.

Spotting the manling, he watched as Kel spent two more bolts from his E-11 towards the alley. From the droid's visual perspective, he was off to the side and couldn't see down the tight corridor any longer, and calculating from the human's reaction, something bad was about to happ--

Hummm! The speeder charged out of the alleyway and perpendicular to the main road. "Come at me, you sleemo!" For all the adjectives in the various languages he knew, the human possessed at least one redeeming one: courage. Although, they never said 'with courage came wisdom'. Instead of saving his skin, the man hunkered down and fired at the kamikaze speeder. "What... an... idiot." However, Kicks didn't wait around for an Imperial invitation. He clanked across the road towards where the driver-absent machine had crashed straight into his 'ally's' last standing point, and plucked the dizzy co-pilot out of the passenger seat with the same gruffness he had expressed towards Kel originally. The thug attempted resisting by smacking his palms on the droid's own hands, but his efforts were futile. In a test of constitution, K-1C5 would win every time.

Kicks wasn't finished. In the spirit of battle, his cloak was no longer in pristine condition. Between the burn marks during the shield debacle and whatever nearly black liquid that coated the gorgeous streets of Nar Shaddaa here and there, the material wouldn't be of use to even the lowest levels of Coruscant's underbelly. Someone had to pay for that, and there were only two left alive and well. "You'll pay for this droid! You'll pay! My master will sell you for par--" While walking towards his human companion, K-1C5 didn't let the masked man finish his puny threat before bashing his helmet against one of the wrecked speeders. "Aaahhh!"

"Do you want to know what I think," he asked facetiously. Of course the thug didn't. No organic really did. To them, a droid was a thing meant to be used to their own pleasure. Well, surprise! This K-series didn't subscribe to the subjugation. Kicks moved to pick up Kel where he would attempt to dangle him in like manner to their other 'friend'. "I think someone owes me a new cloak." His gaze landed on Kel.

Spoiler: Dice Thread

Kick's Dice Thread

@Catbert

 

[Kel Dryden]

After a seemingly endless barrage of blaster bolts, curses, and speeder hum, the street was now quiet... apart from the groans of the wounded. Kel was one of them; his teeth clenched, he crawled towards the crashed speeder, barely holding on to his new E-11 rifle.

Luckily, the passenger hadn't gotten out yet; perhaps he was disoriented just as much as Kel. Meanwhile the droid interfered in all its metallic glory. Pulling the last thug out of the crashed speeder, the droid walked towards Kel, while carrying the screaming merc. He then disposed of him in a gruesome fashion. This time, even though the wounded scoundrel knew what he was in for, he couldn't hold on to the rifle...

Dangling in the air after barely escaping with his life? Staring in the eyes—pardon me, photoreceptors, of course—of a murder-bot about to kill you? Where have I seen that before? His hand instinctively grasped at the droid's metallic manipulator, even though Kel knew it was futile. Well, at least his dangling would be more convenient.

On the bright side, the droid didn't kill him outright and was being... Sarcastic? Hard to tell with those machines. Eyes darting to the sides, looking around the havoc the duo had just wrought, Kel replied, gasping for air: "Can't pay for one... if I'm dead."

Of course, the scoundrel wasn't leaving his fate entirely up to the whim of a seemingly-sentient and most-likely-broken machine. While playing stare-down with the droid and grasping at its hand with his own, Kel was quietly unbuttoning the holster on his hip, with a trusted DL-44. A couple quiet moves, and he'd unholster the weapon, aiming it at the droid, hopefully outside the angle covered by its photoreceptors right now.

Kel was grateful to his unlikely ally for saving his life, so he wouldn't shoot right away. But if negotiations led to nothing, or the droid got angrier, the scoundrel would at least have the final argument...

Spoiler: OOC

Dice roll for Kel's trick

@wayvvardking

 

[Kicks]

Whether the last attacker was alive after the head bashing was of no consequence to K-1C5. The Human would tell him everything he wished to know about their back alley tussle, so Kicks dropped the last of the opposition and swiveled his head back towards his ad hoc partner. As a K-series, the droid possessed zero data regarding the biology of living beings, but even the so called 'murder-bot' could see that the man was... uncomfortable.

"Can't pay for one... if I'm dead." At least he had a sense of humor in light of all this. It took Kicks nearly a decade to learn how to understand humor, nevertheless, there was probably some gravity to his words. He didn't wish to die, and there was a chance that he was important. Why else would so many come to kill him? The casualties of the afternoon would have succeeded had the man in his grasp not had the fortunate pleasure of fighting alongside a KX droid.

Kicks weighed the pluses and minuses of keeping him alive. The minuses were simple. The first was that by cutting ties to the scene, Kicks could make an easy escape. The people around were used to seeing street fights, and for the most part, the scene wouldn't cause gossip due to the regularity. However, this point led to the second negative: his design was galactically illegal. People might talk because K-1C5 wasn't an usual bot, and there were one too many eyes surveying the pair that one or two wouldn't lose a minute of sleep over reporting his appearance to someone who might care... for the right amount of credits. In short, the sooner he disappeared, the better his chances of a clean get away were. As tempting as it was to crush the Human's throat there was one factor that landed firmly in the plus column: how important was the brown haired man and could Crymorah benefit from his survival?

Ignoring the retort about his cloak--not forever, mind, because Kicks would get his dues--the droid tilted his head and brought the man closer to his dome. "Who are you, Human?"

 

[Kel Dryden]

Kel still wasn't dead. That was good. But he was still dangling in the air, and that was bad. Gripping to the metallic manipulator with one hand, so he wasn't kicking up feet as much. And the trusty DL-44 in his grip made the young scoundrel feel better about the odds. The only problem was catching a breath of the smoggy Nar Shaddaa air.

Despite the inconvenience, Kel still didn't shoot. Mostly because he was concerned whether one blaster bolt would be enough to put down that hunk of metal. And partly because the droid had saved him. But that "partly" diminished along with air in Kel's lungs.

"Kel Dryden..." he groaned coarsely right in the droid's metallic "face". But of course, the droid didn't want his name alone. It would want to know what Kel did for a living, and whom he was working for. And that answer could result in the droid crushing his neck right away.

"I'm a pilot..." his eyes darted around as he tried to gulp. Then it came to him: the Black Swift. If the mercs were after Bochaba's assets, they could be after his freighter too. Probably Kel's freighter now, if Bochaba had kicked the bucket. "My ship..." Kel struggled to catch a breath. "Spice... Got to get..."

That was it. If the droid held him by the throat in the air a few seconds longer, Kel wouldn't lose anything by trying to blast the clanker and see if it would bleed oil. It was that, or risking death by strangulation.

@wayvvardking

 

[Kicks]

It wasn’t until Kicks placed the Human on his own two feet that the droid saw the blaster aimed at his chest plate. If the man was going to shoot him, then he would have already. "Kel Dreyden," he repeated and crossed his arms making no move towards his own blaster.

Processing...

The name didn’t register in his database, and although he knew all the big names, Nar Shaddaa bred more criminals than fleas—so did Coruscant for that matter. "Kel Dreyden, unknown pilot in possession of spice." It was a statement more than anything else; he added the information to his databanks. Unlike organics, K-1C5 potentially could learn everything accurately. Potentially because unlike domesticated droids, Kicks refused to replace his parts. They were a part of him—his soul. Without them, he was generic. This was a fallacy of course, but as Kel had correctly thought, the KX droid was in a sense broken. Too many system failures in his time had left some of his wiring either crossed or fried. There had been more than one occurrence where Kicks awoke to a stranger ‘fixing’ him. Suspicious as ever towards life forms, the droid rarely allowed those people to live. As a result, his system generally operated with half finished work by various hands.

It was unclear if Kel was important himself, but his cargo was lucrative. Unfortunately, Kicks didn’t know how to fly, so knocking the Human out and seizing his cargo was inopportune timing. Moreover, if the attackers knew where Kel was, then they probably had the location of his ship. The droid wasn’t seeking another ambush. "Tell me, Kel Dreyden, spice runner... Why should I let you go after all this?" Perhaps he could bluff himself a prize from the Human.

@Catbert

 

[Kel Dryden]

The first thing Kel did after being put back on the ground was lean slightly forward and gasp for air. Rubbing his neck with the free hand, he could finally feel the polluted air of the Smuggler's Moon enter his lungs unhindered. Who would've thought that he'd be enjoying such a simple thing? Not intent on attacking the droid, he still held the blaster pistol close to his hip and aimed slightly down. The scoundrel would be ready to defend himself if the droid tried pulling that stunt the third time.

"Kel Dreyden, unknown pilot in possession of spice," the droid was stating the fact. Not what Kel would've liked to hear about him anywhere outside Nar Shaddaa. "It sounds bad when you put it like this," the young man commented coarsely, right after clearing his throat and rubbing his neck still. Then he stopped, as if distracted by something. Leaned forward, he picked up up his E-11 from the ground. The scoundrel grabbed it by the barrel, uncertain if the old droid would understand what that peaceful gesture meant.

Disregarding the droid for a moment—but casting a cautious glance at it every now and then—Kel would approach the crashed speeder and throw the rifle on the passenger's seat. Then he'd open the driver's door and pull the dead merc with a burned helmet out of his seat. That's when the droid asked: "Tell me, Kel Dreyden, spice runner... Why should I let you go after all this?"

It had a point. But Kel wasn't quite sure what exactly he meant by "after all this". After the shootout? After seizing his spice? It was kind of ambiguous. "Because..." the human hesitated, reaching under the steering wheel to check for the key. Of course it was in place, seeing how the mercs had just used the speeder to ram into his cover. However, turning the key didn't work at first. The motor of the speeder let out a long deep coughing sound which died down after a few moments.

"Because..." Kel repeated himself, his voice clearly anxious. Thankfully, the sound didn't die down this time, and Kel could feel a soft push up—and immense relief—as the speeder's antigrav kicked in. "... They might be after my ship and spice too. I'm going after it. Without a ship, I'm dead in the water at best, and just dead at worst." He turned his head to the droid: "And I'll be pretty useless in either state. Even for buying the cloak, let alone for flying ships, repairing stuff, and returning the favor for saving my life."

The scoundrel didn't dare to hit the gas yet. It would be foolish to turn his back on an armed droid like that. What if it wanted to ride along? After all, getting a ride out of here had been the original plan.

@wayvvardking

 

[Kicks]

Watching Kel retrieve his weapon, Kicks analyzed the man's body language to ensure he wasn't a threat.

Processing...

Fortunately for the Human, the chance of success wasn't even into the double digits with his hand on the barrel rather than the trigger, so the droid made no move towards him. "Sounds bad? It is fact. Perhaps these men attacked you because you used feelings instead of reason when dealing with them." Kicks raised his metallic fingers to what passed as a chin. "What is it that Humans are fond of saying? Oh yes," the droid swiveled his head closer to Kel and gave a go at sounding sarcastic, "I assumed." He could have sworn on his bolts that there was another saying to go along with that, but that knowledge escaped him for the moment.

"What are you doing?" It was less a question and more of a demand, and so far the man had only given him a few nervous 'because's'. The Human was grasping for something within one of the supposedly broken speeders. The K-series hadn't realized that Kel's tone had changed before, but now... now, it sounded--the speeder suddenly awoke from its deathbed. The engine purred, albeit far from perfection, but nevertheless it would run. "They might be after my ship and spice too. I'm going after it. Without a ship, I'm dead in the water at best, and just dead at worst." Kel swung himself into the driver's seat of the speeder and placed the E-11 rifle in the passenger seat. "And I'll be pretty useless in either state. Even for buying the cloak, let alone for flying ships, repairing stuff, and returning the favor for saving my life."

Kicks hadn't trekked to the far reaches of the galaxy to babysit some crazed organic, but the scoundrel did owe him a replacement cloak... If anyone were to comment on his love of organic fashion, Kicks would deny it with the back end of his blaster to their 'lying' face, but the droid knew it to be true. Over the years, he'd been hunted down as an illegal model. Cloaks and other clothing had prevented some of the worst pursuits; in time, he'd grown accustomed to them, and with the mutilation of the one over his shoulders, the security droid must have his repayment. The Coruscant report to Crymorah headquarters would have to wait because if Kel's even half telling the truth about the spice, then K-1C5 would get what was due... or more.

"Then let us go see that favor returned." Kicks's heavy feet clamored into the sputtering speeder as it groaned for maintenance; the droid made sure to sit behind the pilot with a hand on his blaster just in case the Human had a wild hair... and from his experience... they all did.

@Catbert

 

[Kel Dryden]

The speeder would fly. That's what mattered the most. The second thing that mattered was that Kel was now free to go after his ship. All that mattered to him was whether or not the Black Swift was safe. If Bochaba's spice had managed to arrive, it would be a nice bonus. The young scoundrel was pretty sure that his employer was dead. Especially considering that so many mercs had gone after a single unimportant survivor from the warehouse.

The droid that had saved Kel's life wasn't going to let things slide either. For all Kel knew, he could have been left alive only to show the way to the spice and the ship. Then again, the scoundrel wasn't quite sure what to make of the droid and its intentions. One problem at a time. The plan was simple:

• Step 1: Make sure that the Black Swift is safe.
• Step 2: Check if the spice has arrived.
• Step 3: Make sure that the murder-bot isn't trying to kriff you over.
• Step 4: Return the favor.

Perhaps taking the droid to the Swift wasn't the best decision, but Kel didn't have a choice in the matter.

// END THREAD