Open Catscratched

Davik Lorso

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This thread starts off on Kessel.

If you want to join, make sure you have a reason to be on a Pyke Syndicate spice processing and packaging facility.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Davik nursed a glass of Corellian whiskey between his left thumb and index finger while he massaged his forehead with his right. It had been a crazy week. Sector Rangers almost caught him on Chandrila with a priceless painting under his arm and Coruscant was in a lockdown due to a recent Sith attack and he had to reroute to deliver spice in a mid-space transfer that came with its own near-fatal issues. It had felt as a relief to touchdown on Kessel again, but ofcourse suddenly the Pyke start haggling over his smuggling fee because the Coruscant shipment didn't go smooth enough to their likening. "Kriffing bastards," Davik sighed and shook his head. Once he'd hit hyperspace with the shipment he was going to curl up on the cushions of the Catscratch and take a good long nap.

"Davik Lorso?" a droid came up behind him, prompting Davik to turn on his barstool and nod, "yeah". It took a moment while the droid was looking at its datapad for confirmation, but it delivered a crippling blow when it looked up again; "We're ready to load the spice into your ship. If you could tell your friend to land it again."

Davik blinked once, alright twice. "Say what?" The Catscratch was on its designated pad, he left it there.. the cargo doors were open for the Pykes, but.. "We're ready to load the spice into your ship. If you could your friend to land it again." the droid repeated his message verbatim, thinking Davik hadn't heard it.

Suddenly rising from his stool, Davik pushed the droid backwards. "I kriffing heard you, you karking piece of Jawa-dented metal!" Someone had stolen his ship right under the nose of the Pyke Syndicate! Not bothering to reply to the droid, the smuggler rushed out and towards the landing pad where his beloved ship was supposed to be. There, he found only the Pyke's droids and the crates that were supposed to go into his ship. Again he was approached by a droid, "We're waiting on your ship, Davik Lorso. We're on a tight schedule." Davik ignored him and looked at the sky, but while some light freighters were hovering, waiting for their turn to land, he didn't see his Lethisk-class Armed Freighter among them.

"Someone stole my ship," the smuggler whispered incredulously and turned towards the waiting droid. "I must insist you land your ship immediately," it said rather indignant, which was further amplified by Davik's seeming unwillingness to comply with the simple request. The human's mind was racing, slowed perhaps by the growing feelings of sadness, hopelessness and rage. "Where's your comms unit?" he finally asked. The droid overseer had its own unit to instruct ships to land on his pad and could broadcast to every ship in and around orbit. It immediately turned and pointed towards a nearby console, "I'm glad you see reason." But Davik hadn't and he wasn't about to tell his ship to come down, well, he would have if he could. Getting over to the console, Davik extended its range to maximum and grabbed the microphone.

"If whoever just took my ship would please return it," the message would reach all nearby smugglers, including the Pyke Syndicate operators inside the palace, which meant he wasn't getting anymore spice smuggling jobs from the Pykes anytime soon. "You better bring it back right now or I'm going to choke your eyes out of your skull and piss in your- DZzzt" the connection was cut remotely and Davik's continued tirade was only heard by the droid next to him who looked increasingly uncomfortable, if indeed a droid could show his discomfort. Eventually Pyke security guards, accompanied by the Pyke Overseer, pulled Davik off the console and smacked him into submission on the ground.

The Overseer was Pyke, ofcourse, and eyed Davik with amusement. "So you got your ship stolen while getting a drink? Amateur, haah!" If merely staring at the lankly alien would do all the thinks Davik was now considering doing it would shock the droid into malfunction, for it would be extremely cruel and fatal. But, the Overseer was a Pyke. The Pykes were a powerful syndicate, which in turn was part of the underworld-reigning Five Syndicates. As such, Davik bit his tongue. The Pyke was further amused by this turn of events, immensely enjoying the power he held over independent smugglers. "Now let's see," he produced a datapad and swiped around a bit until a holographic image appeared of a rodian sneaking into the Catscratch just a minute or so before takeoff. Davik didn't recognize the frog, but he didn't doubt that the Pyke would. "Seems like Leng Tan is the culprit, which makes sense since we-" he used a 'royal we' to show his authority on this facility, "-confiscated his ship when he came short on the payment."

All of this was highly amusing to the Pyke Overseer who saw the independent smuggler for exactly what they are: thirteen in a dozen of utterly desperate beings that just happen to own a spaceship. There weren't many as accomplished in Davik's field as Shadowpaw, so the Pyke could do with smugglers whatever they wanted. "You have thirty minutes to leave our planet or we'll be forced to arrest you for trespassing and put you to work in the mines." All three Pykes now laughed and walked off, leaving Davik laying on the floor, jaw clenched and imaging himself working to death in one of those spice mines.

Maybe a friendly smuggler would take him?


 

Kel Dryden

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Kessel. One of the go-to places for established smugglers and aspiring scoundrels alike. Whether you want to strike out on your own, or just need to buy spice in bulk the Pykes have you covered. If you have a spaceship and want to make some credits and name for yourself in the underworld, Kessel is the place to go... As long as you have a spaceship and are willing to do business.

Even if you're having fewer credits than a Nar Shaddaa beggar, you can haul the Pyke product. Of course, the payouts are meager compared to what the Pykes themselves are making; but it can keep the ship running at least. And there is no buy in. Just don't cross the Pykes, don't screw up the job, and you'll earn your living and then some. Or, if you have more money and connections, the Pykes will be happy to sell you their spice—much cheaper than on Coruscant, but still ridiculously expensive in large amounts. Just sell it at a higher price somewhere in the Inner Rim, and you'll be well on your way to making a fortune.

But there's a catch. There always is. You see, for every Han Solo or Lando Calrissian—legends in their own right—there're dozens of Kel Drydens—risking their neck every time they haul product from Kessel. Sector rangers, defense forces, local police, pirates, rival smugglers, the Pykes themselves—that wasn't the full list of things that could end your career. For every Kel Dryden, there's at least a dozen of those poor sods who lost their ship, their freedom, and their life.

So yeah, Kessel can make you some money... As long as you have a ship and a death (or, if you're lucky, a long-stint-in-prison) wish. But I suppose it could get worse. If I didn't have people backing me up—or if I were too reckless and/or unlucky—I could very well be that guy whose ship had just got stolen. Cursing over radio, forced on the ground by the Pykes, threatened with slavery, and left with no options... Guess the galaxy is just one big Nar Shaddaa after all.

...

"Bad day, huh?" a man of a similar age approached Davik, extending the right hand to help him off the ground. A gesture that could be considered reckless, if the left hand wasn't lying on the grip of the blaster pistol, currently rested in an unbuttoned holster. Can never be too careful with strangers. What's there to stop them from pulling a fast one? Why would Kel even go for helping the guy he didn't know? There were a couple of reasons, but it was too early to show the cards: "I take it you'd like a way off this rock."

@Eccles
 
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Davik Lorso

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Defeated, Davik had made no effort to stand up. The Catscratch wasn't just his baby, but it was also his home and only source of income. He wasn't good enough to become a fighter pilot and he didn't really do well with authority, as evidenced by his inability to be a reliable retainer to one of the Five Syndicates or hold a proper cargo hauling job in the past eighteen years... kriff! He was supposed to deliver the 'Smiling Girl In Front of a Nabooan Landscape' to the new boss of the Zaa Fenn on Eriadu! Maybe dying in that spice mine wasn't so bad, after all.. because crossing the Zaa Fenn meant crossing their enforcers and the last thing he heard about them was that they decapitated dozens of innocent people.

Contemplating how it would look to see him get torn apart limb for limb over a painting, Davik was late to register a fellow human extending his hand. "The worst," he replied with a grimace as he accepted the hand and got back up on his feet. "I'd like to shank a rodian and get back my ship," the anger in his voice was still evident as he blurted out the somewhat over-enthused reply, "but yeah, starting off with not dying in the spice mines sound like a good first step."

Davik sized the human up. He was a few years younger than him, clearly, but his armor and the way he carried himself clearly betrayed that he had an edge that most of their kind missed. Perhaps he was with the Five Syndicates? Suspiciously, Davik took back his hand and created some distance. "I'm Davik," his eyebrows furrowed as he was still trying to either size him up or considering whether he should've recognized the young man, "Davik Lorso."

Usually the smugglers that joined guilds were desperate. Davik had been desperate, after all. The transport of a stolen painting and then that of spice all came over the net from the guild. Jobs they had plenty, but no one excepted them if they weren't desperate. The man in front of him didn't look desperate.. "You my ride?" He dreaded the terms and conditions for the life-saving act...


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Kel Dryden

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Kel did not recognize the stranger, nor did he expect to get recognized in turn. As much as a gambler, swindler, pilot, and shot he was, galaxy was a large place. It had plenty of bigger fish than... "Kel Dryden," the man introduced himself; a smirk of amusement appeared on his lips as the older scoundrel stepped backwards and eyed him rather cautiously. Expecting a catch, huh? Smart, I would've done the same.

But was there really a catch? "It depends," the scoundrel answered Davik's question, but the comment was somewhat to himself as well. On the one hand, helping that poor sod seemed like the right thing to do. A human lending a hand to another human in a place where they were a minority. But on the other hand, the stranger was in such a predicament that could make helping him a good investment. But how could Kel benefit from that?

Credits? Nah, he doesn't seem to have too much on him. Even if Kel charged an exorbitant fee with some down-payment, there was no guarantee that Davik wouldn't disappear in the next spaceport. Tracking him down and squeezing him to the last credit just wasn't worthwhile. "Tell you what..." the man paused, his hand still on the holster. "You can consider the ride off Kessel a favor. Some day I might just ask you to return it."

Kel was in a position of power here, so capitalizing on Davik's situation wasn't only wrong morally, but also from the business standpoint. A grateful pilot owing you a favor was better than a pilot with a grudge. "But if you want us to pursue your ship while the trail is still hot..." Kel made a pause than normally wouldn't be considered dramatic, if it weren't for the fact that Davik's ship could still be in the system: "Then it's going to cost you extra. Say, 20% cut of your future operations."

Sure, it was a bold request. Even bolder than Kel had originally considered. Got to give the guy some room to haggle and feel better by knocking down my share a little. But the offer was as much of a gamble to Kel as it could seem a rip off to Davik. On the one hand, the ship could be long gone, and Kel would get nothing. On the other hand, if Davik did strike it rich, the scoundrel stood to benefit immensely. And the best thing was that Davik had to think fast. The longer he haggled, the farther his ship was getting from Kessel.

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Davik Lorso

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That kriffing child has some karking nerve on him! It took all of Davik's restraint not to go for a punch on the suddenly very punchable face of Kel Dryden. "Twenty percent!?" he replied instead with indignation and unpleasant surprise. As a smuggler he didn't make nearly enough credits to be able to give some rando a 20 percent cut, but then it did beat the alternative of dying in a spice mine... Karking Kark. But maybe there was another solution...

"We're both spacefarers," he began, pointing perhaps a bit theatrically at the sky, "both often outside the reach of those deepspace HoloNet beacons." If Kel Dryden was smart he would be seeing where this was going already, "and as you can see I'm not a very accomplished smuggler at that. You'd be getting half a credit chip every other month, but I won't live up to the deal anyway when there's so many parsecs between us." The older smuggler smiled in a gentleman's way as if he was saying something Kel would immediately understand. There was no honor among thieves, after all.

"But," Davik continued out of fear that his ride would leave without him if he didn't offer a sure incentive, "I've got a painting on my ship. In one of the hidden compartments." It was hidden underneath the bed, so it wasn't exactly a hidden compartment, but Davik wanted to make it seem like the rodian wouldn't be able to find it in time to pawn it off. "Supposed to go to the boss of the Zaa Fenn on Eriadu. Would've been the biggest payday of the last couple of years for me. Get me my ship back and its yours." Neither the Zaa Fenn or the Guild would care how it got to Eriadu or who brought it, as long as it ended up in the hands of Marissa Zaa Fenn. Payment was in cash, so Kel could make a small fortune.


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Kel Dryden

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The shift from "cautious" to "indignant" didn't go unnoticed. That was the reason why Kel had been keeping his left hand on the blaster at all times. You never knew what sort of trick the guy could pull off. Still, to Kel's surprise, a punch to the face or an insult didn't follow. Davik needed his help, and that mean that Kel was allowed to dictate terms.

Still, Davik attempted to weasel out of the terms that Kel tried to set. The scoundrel understood the implied meaning behind the man's words perfectly. He could counter every single point. I wouldn't be the one you'd have to worry about. If you fail to pay, I'll just sell your debt to some Crymorah enforcer. Ever heard of Preef Callo Zaa Fenn? And if you're worried about the galaxy and distance between us, the Zaa Fenn could always install a tracking device or two on your ship. That way you wouldn't lose it like this time. It's a win-win.

The prospect of evading bounty hunters could be scary for a freelancer. But then the stranger said the magic word: Zaa Fenn... Or was it "Eriadu"? "Marissa"? Or maybe "payday"? Ain't that a small galaxy? He grinned widely, shaking two fingers lifted upwards, a sly squint in his eyes. "Alright, Davik Lorso. An eventual favor for getting you off this world, and a painting as an insurance to make the chase worthwhile." If the man agreed to the terms, he'd extend his hand for a handshake. "Let's get to it then, time's a wastin'!"

With that, he gestured towards the sleek black-and-orange IFST-21 freighter standing on one of the nearby pads. "If there's any ship other than an interceptor to catch up with yours, it's the Black Swift."

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Davik Lorso

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The younger smuggler saw sense and the two men shook on it. "It's a deal, Kel Dryden." Davik was relieved, because he didn't really like to deal with the new Zaa Fenn anyway. With all the rumors of them massacring people and being allied to the Sith Order the blood just drained from his face whenever he thought about interacting with someone in the Zaa Fenn. No sir, not Davik, never Davik.

Kel's ship was.. well, impressive. "That's yours?" Davik said in awe, admiring the sleek freighter as they made their way over, "Wait, are those-" he jogged over to the rear of the Black Swift, "-military-grade maneuvering jets!" turning back to Kel, there was plenty of admiration readable in the older smuggler's eyes. There was some resentment as well, simply because Kel had apparently managed to achieve so much more in his shorter lifetime than he had, but right now admiration clearly had the upper hand. "This is some ship."

At this point Davik stopped wasting time and got on board with Kel, taking up the spare seat in the cockpit. "It's a Lethisk-class Armed Freighter," he followed it up with its unique identification codes so it would be easier to track him through the IFF-systems. "the Catscratch"


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Kel Dryden

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Davik's reaction about the ship made something in Kel warm up to the stranger. It felt good when others appreciated your work: keeping the ship mint and bleeding-edge. Admittedly, it had been a stroke of luck more than anything else. Kel's Hutt employer getting slain; the young scoundrel "inheriting" the ship; a lucky raid on the Ranger HQ; a big payday and the subsequent upgrades. But throughout the years, Kel had put a lot of effort into preserving the original "Outer Rim High End" style.

As Kel strapped in, his fingers ran frantically across the dasboards, pressing buttons and hitting switches. A black-and-orange NM-series astromech rolled by, grumbling something unpleasant in binary. Blast it, we've got no time for that! "That guy's our payday, Nyx, so shut up and plot the course!" The droid blurted out an expletive, this time directed at the pilot, but proceeded to the navicomputer nonetheless.

"You'd better wear your seatbelt, this thing is fast," the scoundrel's tone wasn't overly boasting; it sounded more like a good piece of advice than anything else. After all, Davik didn't seem to have noticed the fusial afterburner, which Kel did engage. "Let's see if we can catch up," despite the statement, there was more certainty than hope in it. In realspace, the Black Swift could easily go up to 90 megalights; up to twice faster than many stock freighters, and closer to slower fighters.

The power plant hummed throughout the ship; the maneuvering thrusters lifted the ship off the ground with a soft hiss. Another switch pulled the landing gear up. That moment of aligning the ship to the desired escape trajectory seemed slow, almost painfully so. And then Kel pushed the throttle lever. The two engines roared in unison, propelling the Swift away from Kessel's surface and into the atmosphere. Anyone not strapped in, let alone walking around the ship, might very well regret their choices in life.

Hopefully, there was still a chance to catch up with the Catscratch. To escape with a ship, the thief needed to get far enough from Kessel's gravity well, calculate a jump to hyperspace, and then make the jump. The Swift had the speed, but the Catscratch had a headstart. "I hope your navicomp is password-locked, or it'll be a very short chase!" Kel shouted, trying to outperform the thundering engines.

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Davik Lorso

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As told, Davik strapped in while his eyes went over the astromech droid. This guy had a ship like this and an astromech droid? Thoroughly impressed and at the same time a bit embarrassed by the fact that he was clearly a second-rate smuggler, Davik was a bit late to grab onto something and was completely overtaken by the speed of the ship. "Kriffing Bantha!" he cried as the Black Swift launched itself from the ground and shot up through the atmosphere, "You weren't kidding."

Meanwhile the Catscratch was almost at the end of the Kessel Run, but something didn't quite go so smooth over there.. "What is this piece of junk!" Leng Tan's fist collided with the navicomputer in a fit of rage, "Is that Catharese!?" unlike Davik it appeared the rodian thief didn't understand the language of the Cathar pilot that had programmed much of the freighter's systems and he was beginning to lose his patience. He had expected to have the coordinates for the Ring of Kafrene all ready for the jump to hyperspace, but first he couldn't get in contact with Shadowpaw to arrange a pick-up due to a broken long-range comms unit and now he didn't have a kriffing clue how to work this thing.

Back on the Black Swift, Davik couldn't help but snigger a bit. "You know Catharese, Kel?" he asked his fellow human. Catharese wasn't one of those common languages, well... outside of the standard purrs and curs you'd pick up dating a playful Cathar woman. It had been a tough decision not to reprogram the ship's systems when he acquired it, but it was much easier slicing through a password-lock than it was reprogramming the entire system language mid-flight. Knowing his own ship, Davik knew that the rodian would be taking the Kessel Run no faster than 50 MGLT, which the Black Swift could do much much faster. "You'll catch up," he assured Kel, "with this ship," he trailed away, still in awe over the sheer speed of the Black Swift.



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The Black Swift soared through the atmosphere and beyond, trails of thundering engines in its wake. For a moment, everything aboard felt weightless until the local gravity generator kicked in. One could walk around the ship now, even though it was gaining distance from the planet at an ever increasing pace.

Davik's mention of Catharese felt out of place at first... But then Kel put two and two together, and a smirk appeared on his lips: "Riiiiight." The language barrier could indeed be worse than any password. It was no surprise that eventually "Catscratch" appeared among the contacts... Far off in the distance and moving away from Kessel at a steady pace. But the moment Kel turned the Swift towards it, the situation changed. The difference it speed would allow to easily catch up with Davik's freighter even while it was moving at full speed.

"You'd better head back to the turret if you want us to dock with your ship," hopefully, Davik would take the hint. If he wanted to get aboard, the ships would have to dock with each other. And that wouldn't happen until the ship's engines had been knocked out. Yes, Davik would have to shoot at his own ship if he wanted to have it back.

If the man refused, Kel would remind him that the turret had light cannons, whereas the Swift's pilot seat only had medium ones, which could cause much more damage. There was another reason why Davik would be better off in the turret. "One of the Swift's airlocks is right below the turret, on the ventral side."

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Davik beamed of joy when he spotted his ship in the distance. "That's her!" he cried enthusiastically. Apparently the rodian still hadn't managed to engage the hyperdrive and that meant if they were fast they could prevent him from doing it altogether. Kel's suggestion to immediately start shooting surprised Davik, however, and conveyed it in the look he gave the more accomplished smuggler. "You're not gonna hail him first?" he asked, confused.

Meanwhile Leng Tan finally had some luck pressing buttons at random and seemingly set the course for what would've been Davik's next port of call: Eriadu. "Hm Eriadu is well-connected to other spacelanes," the rodian mused as he confirmed the destination. "It'll do." He slowed down to 25 MGLT to perfectly position the freighter before punching for hyperspace when suddenly his radar started beeping and a red dotted line appeared to come from a ship behind him. "What the," Leng pressed his index finger on the red ship icon and another window opened, "Black Swift coming within fifty yards?" It took a second before the rodian jumped in his seat, "But that's a collision course!"

Seeing them getting closer and closer to his beloved Catscratch and the latter beginning to position for hyperspace, Davik knew it was too late to try and convince the rodian to give him his ship back and dashed for the turret. Back in the cockpit the comm unit would start to crackle, "Black Swift, this is the, eh-" a click, a pause and then another click, "-Catscratch. Slow down and veer right, you're on a collision course with me!"

Climbing into the turret and strapping in, Davik looked right at his beloved ship. Shooting at it would break his heart, but if it managed to hit hyperspace it was gone forever... guess he had no choice. "I'm sorry, baby"

Not nearly a crack shot on the turret, Davik's first three bolts missed as he himself bobbed up and down in his seat. The fourth shot hit the plating and finally the fifth hit the port engine. He was lucky it was a slow moving target at just the right angle, because he had never managed a hit that fast.



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Hail him? Right. That's what you're normally supposed to do when you want some ship to stop. Somehow, Kel hadn't considered it; the idea to shoot first came on instinct. It could be because the Swift had been a Hutt privateer ship back in the day; or because Kel didn't think it would work and just warn the thief of their intentions. Or maybe, Nar Shaddaa and the underworld had taught him to hit hard and hit first, unless you could con your mark. That's why there was no response from the Black Swift, and the pilot of the Catscratch would remain confused until the end.

Lucky for Davik, he didn't argue and dashed for the turret. Even luckier still, the guy managed to land a couple of shots, at an almost point blank range. The Swift had seen better gunners, that was for sure. Of course, Kel decelerated near the target, letting the thrusters and an occasional burst from the engines send the Swift around the stolen freighter, hoping to circle it and end up slightly behind its aft and a little off to the left side. That way, the thief would have a hard time aiming the cannon, while Kel and Davik could rain hellfire on the ship, if need be.

Now they could talk on much better terms. "Catscratch, this is Black Swift. Shut down the hyperdrive, cut your engines, and prepare to be boarded." Kel delivered it with unwavering calm and confidence appropriate for a military captain... Or someone with at least a little acting talent: "Approaching your starboard hatch now. No funny business."

With that, the maneuvering thrusters would align the Swift's aft to the starboard side of the Catscratch. If the Rodian thief wasn't intimidated already, now was a good time to make a move. Otherwise, the ships would be locked with each other, and Davik would only need to climb the ladder down to the docking tube.

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The rodian sighed and cursed under his breath, but he wasn't a fool either. A ship as fast as the Black Swift, coming from Kessel? It seemed the Pykes weren't done with him after all. He would've wished he had the guts to die in a blaze of glory, but he preferred the uncertain fate of the spice mines and he shut down the engines in compliance. "Alright, Pyke scum" the Catscratch powered down and was easily docked by the Black Swift, where Davik was at the ready with his stun pistol at hand.

It took a few moments, but then Davik lowered himself into his own ship and with his blaster raised made his way tot he cockpit. "Where are you, you bloody rodian!" he cried, anger and enthusiasm trying to make themselves masters of the second-rate smuggler. "Trying to steal my ship!?" It was only when the rodian recognized Davik that he realized that it wasn't the Pyke Syndicate that had forced him to submit, but the sucker whose ship was programmed in Catharese! "You!?" the rodian shot back as he grabbed a vibro-knife and pointed it menacingly at the human, "I'll gut you and whoever pilots the Black Swift, then steal that!" He swung the knife and the fact that Davik didn't shoot yet gave him quite the confidence boost, "This ship is garbage anyway!"

Well, that was the final straw. So the Catscratch didn't see many expensive mechanics and Davik himself wasn't quite so handy tinkering around on a hyperdrive or the pre-programmed software. That doesn't mean his ship is garbage! "It's called vintage, you frog!" Just as the rodian lunged at him, Davik pressed the trigger and hit the smaller alien with a stunbolt to the throat. Unfortunately the stun pistol was a bit behind on maintenance as well and while it stopped the rodian's advance, he quickly recovered after finding some support with the pilot's chair, "Aaaaaughibbrgubugbugrguburgle!"

The rodian's throat thoroughly stunned he getting dizzy and when he let go of the pilot chair to take another lunge at Davik, the latter's second and third shots to the chests did finally bring enough of a punch to drop the rodian out cold.

Failing to smoothly spin his blaster, Davik almost dropped it before returning it to its holster underneath his jacket. "Ahubargle!" he mimicked the rodian's last grumble before smiling to himself all confident. He did it! And he did it in no time at all!

Well, he hardly deserved credit. Taking the comms unit, Davik first tested it by tapping on it with his thumb, "Ahem, Kel? You can get your price now." Maybe he'd take the rodian, too?



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Well, that was it. With Davik heading off to reclaim his ship, the scoundrel could idle away in his pilot seat. No doubt it'd be a dangerous endeavor. That's why it made sense to let the ship owner do the heavy lifting. Kel grabbed the helmet of the flight suit and put it on, while instructing the astromech droid: "If I don't return, or that Davik guy tries to get into the Swift's cockpit, seal it off and vent the ship." The scoundrel honored his deals, but not everyone in the Outer Rim did. There was no way Kel was letting someone steal the Swift.

A few sounds of gunshots later, Kel received confirmation that it was all clear. Blaster pistol in an ubuttoned holster, the scoundrel climbed down into the Catscratchl; hoping for the best, but fully expecting a backstab of some sort. Once his feet were on the floor, he examined the aftermath through the visor: "Congrats on reclaiming the ship. Mind helping me get that paintig you promised into the Swift? Just passing it over while I'm up there would help a lot." His gaze under the helmet fell on the unlucky alien. To steal a ship, almost make an escape, and only fail because the owner of the ship kept the interface of a navicomp in Catharese. "What about that poor sod? You know him? Any bounties on his head?"

The idea was simple: a dead Rodian and the satisfaction of revenge weren't necessarily better than a turned-in alive Rodian and the satisfaction of stunning him every now and then along the way. The scoundrel wondered how much Davik would be making from that, but it was secondary. He had come for what he was owed.

@Eccles
 

Davik Lorso

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While Kel went to the motions of boarding the Catscratch, Davik quickly searched the hidden compartments of his beloved spaceship to find nothing was missing. Even worse: nothing was added! Resigned to his loss in revenue and his new engine issues thanks to... well, his own damn fine shooting, Davik returned to the cockpit to run some diagnostics and that's where Kel found him.

"All thanks to you and the Black Swift," he grinned, showing once again his appreciation for what for all he knew could be one of the fastest smuggling vessels in the Outer Rim and at the same time lifting his arms wide as if to say "Look at the splendor that is my baby!" "If you don't mind watching our friend here," he gestured towards the unconscious rodian as he walked off towards his private quarters... well, the entire ship was his basically his home, but the painting itself was hidden underneath the bed and there Davik pulled it out from. "You would've looked right at home here," he sighed, looking into the beautifully painted eyes of the 'Smiling Girl in front of a Nabooan Landscape'.

By the time he returned to the cockpit the diagnostics panel beeped that it was ready for its report and the rodian was still laying facedown unconscious, so Davik didn't really pay much mind to him. "Now, remember. This is supposed to go to the Zaa Fenn on Eriadu-" he repeated himself, knowing how dangerous it can be to cross the Zaa Fenn, "-I can share its location with your navicomputer if you need it." They'd pay Kel a small fortune for that painting and it hurt Davik as he handed it over..

"Speaking of this guy," he kicked the rodian softly against the head, "he's yours if you have a use for him." Smugglers could always be useful, if only to work in a spice mine, but if kel didn't want him Davik would have to find a way to keep him retrained until he reached the Rings of Kafrene.

@Catbert
 

Kel Dryden

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Catbert
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Well, that Davik guy didn't seem to be the double-crossing type, and even paid his dues. Babysitting a K.O-ed Rodian? Easiest thing Kel would have to do that day. Even though the scoundrel wasn't too impressed with the Catscratch—the Black Swift had just beaten it in every aspect, after all—the helmet didn't betray that. And Kel did respect the affection Davik had for his ship. A ship was a spacer's home, and the younger scoundrel was a guest now.

Not too long afterwards, Davik returned with the painting "Zaa Fenn? Eriadu?" Well, he could continue playing the unaffiliated spacer for a while. "Sure, the location would help." The man accepted the painting carefully, putting it through the hatch on the floor of his ship. It was only for a moment anyway. When Davik offered a Rodian too... "Tell you what? I might actually get use for him too." With the right incentive, the guy could benefit Zaa Fenn too. If he was bold enough to boost a ship, he could do that again. For the right employers this time.

Grabbing the Rodian under the arms—thankfully, Kel had put on a flight suit helmet, so the smell wasn't as much of a concern—he dragged the stunned alien towards the ladder. "Just help me get him up, and you won't cross paths again." Kel would climb into his ship, trying to pull his unexpected bounty up, hoping that Davik would lend a hand. It was strange that he gave up on such an opportunity... But then again, Kel wouldn't have had a need for a Rodian either if he was freelancing.

Once the heavy lifting was done, Kel remained on his ship, saying his farewells through the hatch: "See you around, Davik Lorso." For some reason, Kel also chose to add: "Keep your ship close, and your blaster closer."

@Eccles
 

Davik Lorso

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Davik was happy to hear Kel was willing to take the rodian off his hands. It's not that Davik didn't want to punish the overgrown frog for stealing his ship, but now that it was at his mercy he just couldn't bring himself to it. Besides, Davik didn't have the space for a prisoner and he didn't want to get mixed up in the slave business. Those were a lot of cons just to be able to personally punish someone for what fortunately was a failed attempt at a shipjacking.

Needless to say, Davik helped Kel get both the painting and the rodian on the Black Swift. "I'll get you the coordinates of Eriadu now, safe journey Kel Dryden." He closed the hatch, sealed the airlock and for some reason decided to smell his hands, "Ugh, rodian."

A minute later he had send the coordinates to the Black Swift and turned his attention towards the diagnostics report. His good humor immediately escaped him, "Are you kriffing me?" The portside engine was down to 20%, which cut down his speed after compensating with the starboard engine to roughly 30 MGLT. Worst thing was that he couldn't afford a good mechanic on a civilized world now that he had given away his only potential payday. "Hmm," Davik considered something. He had some dealings throughout his career with a half-wrecked ancient Ossein ship somewhere in the Outer Rim and knew there were half-decent mechanics living on it that would work not for credits, but for trading in bare necessities. "yeah, that'd work." Changing his destination from Eriadu to the last known location of the wreck, Davik waved one last time at the beauty that was the Black Swift and then punched into hyperspace.


/ end thread
@Catbert
 
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