Ask Plot Night Trafficking

Roland Rook

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The Black Sun syndicate had gone through great lengths to make sure that if things went completely south they would at least not be tracked back directly to them. That's why they had hired local gangsters. The leader of the ragtag squad of Haxion Brood dregs thought this job would have given them a leg up in the underworld. But Zigg Jurton wasn't so sure anymore.

There were five men in the Each of the men in the airspeeder. Four of them had blast vests on and some had patchwork trooper armor. They each looked the part of a mercenary or bounty hunter. The fifth person inside the vehicle was Thyrs Vasser, the son of Phyllys Vasser. The young man had been kidnapped from his mother's house after returning from some time at the university. He looked none too pleased with how his night was going so far.

Rain battered the windsheild, which had wipers working hard to keep a clear view. The airspeeder wasn't alone. Three swoop bikes were spaced out as escorts. Each had a respectively armed and armored Haxion Brood hunter. They each came as well equiped as the next blaster for hire. The demands had been made. Now they just had to take the kid somewhere secure. Zigg wanted to make sure his insurances were in order.

Participants: @Bast Emblai (@Kestrel ) @Corran Velt @TerranSteel
Details: With some of the clues uncovered and a break with traffic camera we have a general direction the kidnappers are located. It is believed they're still on the move likely in some airspeeder but moving among traffic. They won't risk going to the starport but you must find them before the reach a safehouse or a ship that can take them off planet.
 

Corran Velt

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The rain played gently across the windshield of the idle speeder. It hovered smoothly in the air, following the automated flow of traffic in the sky. The windshield wipers provided clarity to the route ahead, but he preferred to listen to the droplets on the window. It reminded him of simpler times in his youth. A traffic camera had been lucky enough to pluck the signature of the vehicle carrying the kidnapped Phyllys Vasser. A key holo-chess piece in the great game between criminal gangs, the Sector Rangers, and the Transport Automata Unlimited company. Corran had worked his first serious case with them before. He nearly got shot to pieces then. Almost got a girlfriend too - though that thankfully did not happen either. This case was a bit more serious. A hostage situation and one quickly on the move. If they could get eyes on the airspeeder carrying the young Vasser, the undercover Rangers could do something to prevent the kidnappers from storing him away somewhere for good.

Luckily, Corran wasn't on his own. Bast Emblai was his partner and there were few others he trusted as much as her. The more veteran law enforcer probably had been in a few more hostage situations or speeder chases than Corran had. Pretty easy to do because that number was zero or one, depending how you viewed it.

"Do you wanna drive?" Corran asked his partner as he peered through the windshield. "I don't think I've gone over the speed limit my entire life." That might not have been an exaggeration. The male Ranger was buckled in as safely as legally mandated and sat upright. Even his hands were at the recommended intervals on the steering mechanisms. So far, they hadn't seen hide or hair of the suspected speeder, but they were near its estimated location.

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Bast Emblai

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There was something soothing about rain- It dulled the harsh light and blurred sharp edges, washed away pain. It had been Bast’s constant company while she had been in hospital, alone with her guilt. Now, the gentle patter on the windshield helped the ranger concentrate on the task at hand. According to the message on her datapad from dispatch, Phyllys Vasser, the son of a business tycoon, had been kidnapped and was being transported to an unknown location. A signature belonging to a suspect vehicle had been picked up by a nearby camera.

Unfortunately, inclement weather seemed to have little effect on the mobs club-goers and partiers. A line of tail-lights glared through the windshield and there was a resounding chorus of horns, shouts, and curses as several vehicles wove dangerously through the crawling space lane. Rather a danger to society, the woman mused, but she had no time or authority to pull them over. That would have be left up to local law enforcement.

“No, no. You drive,” Bast responded to her partner’s question with a smirk and raised eyebrows, that, in truth, were partly to hide her exhaustion. Being constantly on call meant sleep was rare, and no sooner had she showered and and laid her head, the commlink on her wrist vibrated with an urgent dispatch. Besides, Corran’s regard for the law was part of the reason she respected him so much. Corruption, crime, and substance use were widespread within the Sector Rangers, and more than a few members had shunned Emblai for refusing to swear to secrecy. Now she was simply more isolated, not invited to parties at brothels and raids of spice dens where not all the spice was kept as evidence. That was exactly how she liked it, although there was a slight tugging at the back of her mind that she should at least try to stop the illegal activities. The ranger to her right, a stark contrast, was steady and loyal, one she was indebted to. It was no surprise he was a model driver.

“Last known location was right about here. At the intersection ahead.” Bast’s eyes scanned the intel scrolling across her screen as she subconsciously adjusted her badge. “Any sign?”


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Corran Velt

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The speeder inched along with the traffic up the intersection. The rain starting lashing hard against the windshield, obscuring most everything except the tail-lights of those ahead. Likely some strong wind. Corran sighed in frustration and turned the wipers up to maximum. Not much improvement, but it did keep the path visible. It was finally their turn at the intersection and the male Ranger held position, awaiting the go-signal. Like a kid trying to catch a glimpse of a rare animal at the zoo, Corran frantically tried looking out the front window through different angles and even rubbed his sleeve against the driver's side window to try and get a better look around. All he could make out was headlights and rain-soaked vehicles.

The proceed-signal illuminated the dark sky. Disappointed, the young man urged the airspeeder forward and continued to follow the flow of traffic. "I got nothing. No contact confirmation," he said, with clear frustration in his voice. Little did they know that the hostage and the criminal caravan had passed them by moments before and were already on the move elsewhere.

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Bast Emblai

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Once again, their speed picked smoothly up with a steady acceleration. Despite his calm, controlled driving, the man to Bast’s side was clearly growing frustrated. It was the small body signals that told her- a tight grip on the steering wheel, tight breathing, a tinge of red in the ears. She was quite glad he was not prone to road rage.

"I got nothing. No contact confirmation.”

“Hey,” Bast dropped her professionalism for a second for a more friendly tone. They had seen eachother cry, so neither needed to hold the facade of a steely ranger when around one another. “Don’t worry. We must simply keep looking for signs- Holy suns that was bloody dangerous!” A speeder bike had just illegally crossed the intersection going somewhere around twice the speed limit and almost perpendicularly struck a hover bus. The rider of the bike disappeared almost as quickly as he had come, but through the rain-streaked glass, the retired detective managed to catch a glimpse. There was something on his back... perhaps a rifle or stun staff? Pushing back her embarrassed at her surprised outburst, she began again, despite the red creeping into her face. “They looked to be in quite the hurry. Shall we?”

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Corran Velt

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The frustration on Corran's face first loosened in his brow, flowing down to his terse jaw, and eventually his knuckles. Like the rain, it flowed away when Bast used her softer tone. That was soon undercut by the startled shout of his partner as a speeder bike sliced through the intersection at high speed, nearly impaling itself on a mass-transit bus. Corran didn't get a good luck, but Ranger Emblai seemed to.

Glancing to his right, the male Ranger couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the blushing Corellian. She had no reason to be embarrassed - the speeder had startled him just as much - but seeing the stoic, former CorSec investigator turn crimson in the cheeks was amusing and a little bit endearing. With a wry smirk, Corran replied, "We shall. Hold on tight and keep your blaster handy."

Pressing on the energy, the airspeeder bounded around the entirely-in-the-air corner of the traffic lanes and zig-zagged between cars. Once or twice they would launch above the traffic or dip below it to get past larger haulers or slow-movers. Risky maneuvers, but losing the target convoy would be too big of price. Eventually, the pair of Rangers managed to get on the tail of the target convoy. Two speeders with likely armed guards on them and just a speeder's length ahead of them was the target vehicle - likely hostage inside. "Not too subtle, are they?" Corran asked rhetorically.

Perhaps speaking too soon, the two speeders began to ease back and their riders glancing over their shoulders at them. The thugs didn't seem alerted, but suspicious, coming to investigate a speeder that could be following them. "Got any ideas?" Corran asked out of the corner of his mouth.

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Bast Emblai

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The jesting chuckle from her partner did nothing to help Bast’s embarrassment. Now even the tip of her nose was a light shade of crimson. She was supposed to be the one in charge, calm and collected. Thankfully, Corran took it good naturedly and in stride. Heart still racing, Bast’s stomach plummeted as he dipped in and out of the lane. She resisted the impulse the grab the overhead handle out of habit. This was Ranger Velt she was riding with, probably the most endearingly cautious man she had met. He was gentle and thoughtful, and Bast seriously doubted he would ever risk unnecessary danger for the thrill of the chase.

The rain hit the speeder at odd angles as they twisted and wove through traffic- around a taxi with five passengers crammed in the back seat and under a hover-trailer bringing off planet livestock to market. The sound of slow jazz seeped through the noise as the worn vehicle passed a particularly busy nightclub. The sign outside read, in stylized aurebesh, First Hour Gambling On Us! Win 20000 Credits!It was the area of the city where sins were hidden. There were no beggars and homeless on the streets, no corner dealers or back alley muggers. The filth of the galaxy was draped in pearls here, hidden behind a sweet drink. Poverty kept behind closed gilded doors.

One criminal operation, however, made no effort to disguise itself. Directly ahead was a convoy of three swoop bikes and a speeder- as Corran had pointed out, not a subtle method to transport a hostage. This had to be them, as no reasonable merchant from these parts would hire an armed escort simply to transport goods. The description from the camera matched as well.


“This is most definitely our target. Can you close in a bit? I am going to take a shot at the escorts and I cannot risk another vehicle approaching the target.“ As she tapped the button to dissolve the shield window, Bast took on a more lighthearted tone “I am sorry, but it may get a bit damp in here for a moment.”

The blue tinted window disappeared and the ranger leveled her blaster rifle, resting it on the speeder door. A click confirmed the dial was switched to stun. Knocking suspects out in heavy traffic was liable to result in accidents, she she would have to be precise. Then it was simply up to chance. Bracing herself against the seat, she fired. The shot was true and hit the grunt directly from behind, causing him to slump forward onto the handlebar rather than fall to his death. A similar shot took the second mercenary out. The target was getting ever closer.

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Corran Velt

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Past the glitz and showy scenes, past skyscrapers that truly earned the title, the two Rangers finally were in eyesight of their prey. Bast confirmed it as much and Corran knew that if she confirmed anything, it was worth putting all his trust in. At his partner’s behest, Corran gingerly put more energy into the speeder to gain on the target convoy.

Rain began to drizzle the dash and even onto the young man’s fingers which held the steering mechanism. Even in a situation as tense as this, Corran couldn’t help but snicker at his fellow Ranger’s wise-crack. Only a woman who knew was she was doing could make light of stunning moving targets, in the rain, while she is also moving. In seconds, both of the speeder escorts were stunned and left hovering in the rain. Someone would likely call in police to check on them, if for nothing else but causing a traffic disturbance.

“Incredible aim, Bast,” Corran said with visible, if restrained, amazement, "I need you to teach me how to shoot like that at the range."

That just left the one speeder-bike escort at the front of the convoy and likely three to four goons in the airspeeder itself. It was only a matter of time until they realized the two rear escorts were gone. To get the third out of the way would require some steady maneuvering. Knowing what the target speeder actually looked like gave Corran some confidence to temporarily lose visual sight of the hostage. He steered the speeder to the left, getting off the same path the target speeder was travelling. Using his blinker, taking a right. The two speeders were not in tandem, separated only by the towering buildings between the air-lanes. The lane the Rangers were in was less crowded. In fact, all the air-ways were becoming less crowded. It seems the hostage-takers were moving into a more industrial area, moving away from the public.

"I think I can cut off the lead speeder-bike.... about... now," Corran said seriously to his partner. At the next intersection he veered right and, if everything had gone according to plan, they would have given the fainest window to separate the two vehicles. As it turned out, the lead biker had fallen back to ride along side the target speeder. Instead of cutting off the two vehicles, the Rangers got a face full of their high-beams, only mercifully dimmed by the rain, as they crossed in front of the two idling speeders. The male Ranger pulled into the scattered traffic a lane over, once again driving in tandem with the goons and shielded by increasingly industrial towers. "That didn't work as anticipated," Corran expressed with a long sigh.

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Bast Emblai

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The Ranger’s luck seemed to be wearing out a fair bit quicker than what she would have liked. The genuine flattery Corran’s compliment had brought her was almost immediately stripped away by painfully bright lights heading directly at their speeder. Bast’s heart pounded in her chest as her partner deftly exited from the failed maneuver. Too close of a call for her liking. The female ranger kept her face neutral to mask her disappointment. It was not at Corran that she was frustrated . His tactic had been unconventional full of risk, perhaps not the most advisable, but unlike droids, the Sector Rangers had the capability for errors. The result of the maneuver could have been greatly successful. Unfortunately, it clearly did not live up to the hopes of the young pilot.

“That didn’t work as anticipated.” Bast’s comrade spoke the obvious with an air of irritated exhaustion. Advice was unnecessary and unlikely to be helpful, not to mention she was hardly one to give it, owing Corran her life. Bast did not smile, but looked straight into the deep blue of her friend’s eyes and made an attempt at soothing his frustration.

“You could not know the speeder would hang back. I would have done something similar,” The second part may have been a stretch for the definition of ‘similarity’, but the detective sought to comfort the male ranger and blunt truth was not the most effective method.

Now Bast’s window was open for an attack. The swoop bike streaked through the blocky, duracrete buildings separating the rangers from their target. She fired another shot but it went high, striking a nearby construction worker, mercifully roped up to avoid plummeting several hundred stories. Bast grimaced and lay down her rifle, craning her neck to spot the civilian she had just stunned. Bast closed her eyes and swallowed to maintain composure and fight the shame of her accidental civilian assault. She would have to call in an medic team to check on him and file an incident report. When the ranger looked forward again to locate the speeder, it was gone.

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Corran Velt

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Keeping his eyes on the airway, Corran couldn’t help but glance at his partner staring at him with serious hazel eyes. She reassured him for his failed stunt and even told a bit of bent truth to soften the blow. Bast didn’t need to do that. If anyone could tell him the harshest truth and receive it without defensiveness, she could. The young man merely nodded in reply. The two had a hostage to rescue.

Bast lined up another shot, but given the speed of the vehicle and all the cover the intermittent buildings provided, it was no surprise she missed. What was surprising is that she managed to hit a civilian worker. Corran visibly winced, not just for the worker not unconscious and dangling from his safety harness, but for Bast. A stray stun round like that is going to be a lot of paperwork, if not a written apology. He could tell his partner felt remorse as she closed her eyes and kept it bottled up. Corran wanted to reassure his partner, but that would have to wait, as the Haxion Brood convoy was gone.

Instead of speeding ahead in a rushed panic to relocate the target, Corran returned the throttle to normal speed. His eyes scanned over the dash carefully, looking for any tall-tale sign. Deeper into the industrial towers, the airways were scant with other speeders and things were foggy. Likely from the rain impacting heated coolant vents. The speeder with the hostage could very well have speed ahead or could have floated low to hide in the fog.

“I have a feeling they’re close,” Corran thought aloud. He took an exit from the airway and floated the vehicle down to a lower level. They were still 15-30 feet above the physical street below, but it was difficult to tell exactly due to the fog cover. This low, among the warehouses and base of industrial towers, there was practically no traffic. The atmosphere was a tinted green. Everything seemed wet. It was quiet. A few silent moments went by. Corran slouched back in his seat, "We couldn't have lost them, could we?"

Suddenly, bright shining headlights beamed the driver's side of the Ranger's speeder. An airspeeder and a speeder-bike had hidden themselves in an alley between two buildings and now had perfectly illuminated the flank of the vehicle. No, the Haxion gangers had found them.

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Bast Emblai

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A hissing sound emanated from the vents below as a hot greenish steam rose, blending with the rain. It was no wonder there was so little traffic near the surface, as the inside of the speeder had become swelteringly hot from the heat output eight meters under it. Bast used the break in activity to call in the people who could fix her mistake. Her voice was grave and flat, with a professional tonelessness that resembled that of an overworked hotline manager.

“This is Ranger Emblai to Brighton Medical Bay and Sector Ranger Planetary Base. There is an injured civilian at 0-27-638. Human male, around forty. Shot by a stun bolt from my weapon. Please send a medic team.”

“Copy that.”

The reply was equally as distant. Bast shook her head almost imperceptibly and returned the comm to the dashboard. Corran’s alert face was now concentrated, his eyes scanning expertly for any sign of the lost convoy. In his concentration, or perhaps to let his partner know his thoughts, he reasoned aloud. She murmured in agreement at his statement. There was no speeder or bikes in sight, and it was unlikely they could have gotten too far ahead with the looming buildings and pouring rain.

“No. I doubt we truly lost them. Visibility is terrible, though, so I’m not sure if we will be able to locate them easily either.”

It was as if the ranger’s words had been a homing beacon, as suddenly, blinding headlights appeared once more. Unfortunately, they were the ones flanked and unprepared. sheets of water morphed the beams of light into uneven streaks, temporarily allowing the two to see mores clearly. Without hesitation, Bast efficiently dissolved the window once more and stunned the last exterior guard with a bolt to the stomach. he likely would be nauseous when he awakened, which ideally, he would take his time doing. A wall of heat hit Bast as soon as the window opened and sweat began to gather at her brow.


“I can take the steering mech for a moment if you want to shoot, or feel free to keep driving. Please turn up the AC, though.” She offered a wry smile as the window began to reform. It seemed trouble had found them.

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Corran Velt

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It was unclear if the thugs holding Thyrs Vasser hostage knew what the airspeeder’s intentions word. They didn’t initially open fire, even when they had the Rangers dead to rights. They still may not know if it was a rival gang tailing them, mercenaries, or even traitors within the Haxion Brood. What they knew with certainty, however, was the two figures in their headlights were unfriendly.

Bast lowered the windshield and practically had the barrel of her rifle across Corran’s chest when she popped off a stun round that struck home. The artificial heat and rain caused the two Rangers to perspire, along with the high stress of the situation. If they couldn’t get to the hostage, the goons in the opposing airspeeder could just point a blaster to his head and demand the Rangers back off. It was unlikely they would kill their bargaining chip, but harming a hostage didn’t seem impossible. Even worse, the thugs could simply lean out their windows and riddle the Ranger’s vehicle with laser fire.

“No time for that, Bast; hold tight!” Corran exclaimed as he shoved the controls to send the airspeeder thrusting horizontally towards their target. Corran was not one to take risks, but when no good options presented themselves, one did what they must. The male Ranger angled the airspeeder so the front driver's side panel would slam into the engine-and-energy block of the opposing craft. Both vehicles slammed into each other with immense force, sending metal panels and paint chips flying in all directions. Thankfully, Corran was wearing his seat-belt and suffered only minor whiplash. The thrusters on both hovercraft began to flicker and burnt out. The Ranger braced his hand on the interior roof, keeping his eyes glued to the other speeder as he counted down. Just before slamming into the pavement after plummeting 15-30 feet, the emergency repulsors kicked on and prevented the airspeeders from turning them into splattered messes. The repulsors lived a short life and shuttered off, letting the wrecked craft settle onto the ground with a soft thud.

Smoke billowed from both machines' engine compartments. They wouldn't be flying anytime soon without major repairs. Chest heaving and sweat coming down his face, Corran shook his partner's shoulder, "Bast, are you alright? Bast? We have to rescue the hostage!"

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Bast Emblai

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Bast was just about to open her mouth to ask what her partner’s plan was, but instead a small gasp escaped her lips. The forward controls had been set to maximum speed. Unfortunately, there was little time to react. The painfully loud sound of shrieking, crunching metal tore through her. Her entire body was thrust forward, only restrained by the saftey belt across the woman’s shoulder. The only thing Bast could see through her squinting eyes was smoke and debris. Then her already shaken stomach dropped, signaling free fall. She couldn’t breathe- it felt as if the vacuum of space had sucked all the air from her burning lungs. With a rough jolt, emergency repulsions kept them from plummeting to their deaths. A few panicked seconds later, they shut off and craft dropped the last meter to the openings of grated cooling vents. The detective’s body was racing with adrenaline and her head was spinning. She didn’t remember hitting it. A ginger brush of the side of her head brought back a smear of blood, but not much, likely a cut from debris. Then there was a hand not-so-gently shaking her.

“Yeah... uh... I’m fine.” Corran’s last words acted like an adrenaline stim. Her mind was instantly alert. Despite their sorry state, she mustered a joke. “But I’m not letting you drive anytime soon.” Perhaps it was not the place for lighthearted humor, but Bast knew it put her partner at ease. And... she had been scared. Bast wondered if she had ever admitted hat to herself before. Of course she had been expecting to die at the outpost, but she had time to prepare or at least distance herself mentally from the danger. Some of it. Bast pushed back memories of blood and lifeless eyes and hands at her throat. If Corran had paid any attention, he would notice a slight flicker of uncertainty before she fully regained composure.

“They certainly know we are not friendly now. I do hope the speeder guns are disabled. Neither craft can go anywhere so it’s going to be a negotiation and shootout.”

Sure enough, a scaly hand lifted the door of the enemy airspeeder and a Trandoshan, skin the color of pond muck, jumped out, shortly followed by a bald, muscular woman, and one Rodian, short and stocky. All were protected by make-shift, welded together armour. Bast‘s rifle was in the speeder, where she had left it, but her blaster pistol holster was open.

“One step closer, we shoot. If you shoot, we blow the ship.”

“I am Ranger Bast Emblai. I am here to keep you safe. What do you want?” Her tone was kind and respectful, as she had been taught. Tell the truth and be kind, for everyone was a person. The helpful facade was difficult to maintain, however. She treated every suspect with dignity, but being so caring towards a group who kidnapped a young human was difficult. Gritting her teeth, she continued. “I’m here to help. If you walk peacefully towards us, I promise I will not hurt you. The boy you have in there has a very worried mother. Your mothers would hate to see you hurt.”

Suddenly the Rodian leaned forward, gun outstretched. A single stun shot from Bast knocked him flat. “I’m sorry I had to do that. Please, help us help you.” Looking to her left, she searched Corran’s face for advice.

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When his partner spoke, even going so far to make a quip, Corran knew she was alright. Even in jest though, Bast was probably right. He shouldn't really drive again. Normal traffic he can handle. Pursuits? Not so much. The Ranger thought he caught of glimpse of something in her eye. Uncertainty? Fear? He never got a good read on it as it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Bast didn't linger long on the feeling, if there was one, and immediately addressed the situation. "Don't you mean a negotiation or a shoot out?" Corran asked with a cocked eyebrow. He didn't receive an immediate answer as the gangsters got out of their now-wrecked vehicle.

The three Haxion Brood goons were an ensemble of characters. All three looked the part of tough. One must have remained in the wrecked car with the hostage. The two opposing sides stood in the steamy streets, amid the wreckage, like an Outer Rim stand off. The Rangers with their hands dangling near their blasters; the mercenaries with their assorted weaponry. They threatened to blow the whole thing if the Rangers wanted a gun-fight. Bast started talking first and while her tone was polite as talking to a judge, her words seemed laced with threat to her partner. Corran wasn't certain of her angle, but she had never steered him wrong before. The Rodian, for their part, thought better of it and tried to take a shot. The alien was unconscious before they could blink. Corran's jaw nearly dropped. Bast had fired a shot in what seemed like less than second. There was no guessing who was the better gunslinger between the two. His partner's searching eyes signaled she wanted some back-up.

Corran decided to give diplomacy a chance, given that the hostage-takers didn't immediately return fire after one of their own was hit by a stun round. "What my partner is trying to say is that we don't want a shoot-out here. I don't think you do either. Considering how you out-numbered nearly three-to-one when this started and now we are about even odds," the male Ranger said, fingers still loosely grazing the grip of his blaster that hung from his hip. The thugs glanced at each other, communicating with unspoken concern on their faces. They lowered their weapons slowly but held onto them tightly. They wanted to talk or at least hear them out.


The criminal underworld wasn't all murder-and-drugs for the fun of it. A lot of it was ugly, illegal business and Corran understood business. He gave a serious look to both of the two standing goons, "You're working for someone above you, right? And someone above them is paying the Haxion Brood to pull off this caper. Getting shot or taken into custody doesn't help you. Turn over Thyrs Vasser and things can get better for you."

"NO!" Snarled the Trandoshan with a swing of his arm, "We are Haxion Brood! We do not surrender for promises!" The bald woman stood firm as well. The third gangster stayed in the broken airspeeder, holding tightly onto the arm of the hostage. It seems a mutual agreement wasn't their cup of caf. Corran took his turn glancing at his partner knowingly. They would either need to intimidate these goons with a show of force like Bast did earlier or they would need to blast their way through.

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Bast Emblai

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Despite his valiant efforts and many talents, Corran did not seem to be a natural diplomat. His words were right, but something in his tone was slightly off, not boding particularly well with the gang. Nevertheless, she gave him an encouraging and attentive smile, watching her peripheral for sudden movement. The woman took the opportunity to scan him over, first checking for injuries from the crash. He was standing steady, hair slightly ruffled, piercing eyes straight ahead. No obvious injury, good. The hazel eyes remained fixed, however. Objectively, he was handsome, subjectively... dammit all, Bast, you’re working. She felt heat rising from her involuntary thoughts. It was if her shell of fearlessness and professionalism she had held for years was cracking, and the ranger simply could not patch it up quickly enough. Guilt made her look away. Distraction of any sort could get them both killed before the detective could even draw her weapon.

A defiant shout from the Trandoshan confirmed chances of the continuation of a peaceful discussion were low.
“Let Thyrs go, please. I do not want you to be used as pawns.” Somewhere in Bast’s words was truth, but even she had to dig deep to find it. Shuffling restlessly, the gang appeared to be waiting for something. Hopefully the decision would not take long, Bast mused, because she was beginning to sweat through her clothes. A tense silence hung between the two parties as they sized one another up. The buzzing of energy from nearby industrial buildings made the air even more electric. In a stark contrast with the street thugs, the hostage seemed patient and contained. He stood straight and betrayed little sign of fear.

A sharp, sudden movement interrupted the static and a single shot was fired from the Trandoshan’s modified pistol. With ease, Bast dodged, and the bolt collided with the already wrecked speeder behind her. The rest of the gang, taking the cue, dropped everything and began shooting. Conveniently, that everything included Thyrs’s arm, and the young, well groomed man dropped for cover. Rather inconveniently, the rescue squad was still separated from their target by a field of streaking bolts. Bast raised her pistol and braced with both arms as she squinted through the rising steam.
“No, Corran. I really did mean a negotiation and a shootout.” Smiling slightly at her own quip, the woman began moving in.


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Corran Velt

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Where Corran failed in diplomacy, Bast seemed to fare better in intimidation. She spoke few words but she gave the otherwise boastful and aggressive gang members pause. The blowing steam, swirling heat, and glistening sweat gave his partner the look of a holovid action heroine. If he had been on the end of her intensity, his own spine might turn a little gelatinous. The hostage-takers, for their part, seemed hesitant to take action. Their hostage seemed in control of his faculties. That's good. If things turned south, Mr. Vasser will need them.

Things turned south almost immediately. The Trandoshan fired wildly from the hip, taking no time to aim with their crude blaster. Bast moved for cover and Corran took that action as something to emulate. The two other goons joined their Trandoshan leader in sending hot plasma down rage in scattered blasts. The only upside was that Thyrs Vasser had been unhanded by his captors and took cover for relative safety. Nearly pinned behind the wreckage of the airspeeders, Corran looked to his partner. Bast replied with humor and began moving towards their targets. The young man was nearly awestruck how in the heat of a gun-battle, Bast could still make a joke and smile. It was brave, reassuring, and... charming. A red bolt smacked off a hunk of metal near the male Ranger's head and he got moving as well.

The bald woman seemed to be having an with her blaster carbine. She smacked it fiercely and let her guard down. Peeping a gun barrel through the debris, the goon was soon fidgeting and frozen on the ground via stun round. The Trandoshan seemed hell-bent on taking Bast down and attempted to keeper in his sights. If she ever exposed herself, even briefly, the alien fired off a series of rounds. This left a blind-spot to their side and Corran peered over the edge of the airspeeder's former hood and the stun round hit home.

The third thug thought better of it and ceased firing to attempt to grab Thyrs by the arm and make a run for it. Corran rose to his feet, aimed his Power 5 and fired. The blue beam of light landed center-of-mass in the goon's back and sent them slumping into the industrial pavement. "That's it. All hostiles down," Corran said stoically, as if reading a report.

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Bast Emblai

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The last unconscious body hit the ground with a soft thud and the fire immediately ceased. There was nothing else like the rush of happiness that overwhelmed Bast at a mission well done. No spice could even come close... she didn’t think. The woman had never actually compared. No dead, no serious injury, and the target was safe. The detective turned to her partner and gave a wide, genuine smile, the display of unadulterated satisfaction on full display. Typically, she would keep everything but a short ‘well done,’ to herself. Around her boyish partner, however, she let her guard down. It wasn’t as if he were going to think less of her for expressing emotion, for being a weak woman. They were far past that. Unfortunately, there was a catch: the mission wasn’t accomplished quite yet. She and Corran still had to safely deliver the kidnapped boy back to his mother. Coming down from her natural high, Bast calmed her mind. It appeared to be wandering more than usual, to places that thrilled and scared her.

The Sector Ranger lifted her wrist comm to her mouth.“Ranger Emblai to Command. We have Thyrs Vasser. Can you send transport to 0-88-624?” There was no response, so Bast began again. A few frustrating attempts indicated her comm was no longer in working condition, likely from the extremely moist atmosphere. The feeling of accomplishment was fading fast. Voice noticeably more clipped, but not unkind, Bast addressed her partner. “I do not suppose we could hail a speeder down here. Comms are out, I think on my end. Should we walk to a cooler place? Any more time here, someone is likely to pass out.” The woman was only partly bitterly joking. Dehydration was a true danger in the withering heat. It seemed as if every mission she went on with Corran was in an exceedingly hot location. Hopefully it would not become a trend. Thankfully, she had been forbidden to go to Jakku, or rather sandy planets, by doctors as the grit could clog her prosthesis.

The young Vasser boy had risen and made his way toward the rangers, but just to assure him he was safe, Bast pulled her badge. She continued the friendly gesture by offering her water canteen, but the offer was also practical, as she had no idea when he had last had a drink and dragging dead weight would be difficult, though perhaps less so with Corran’s help.


“My name is Bast Emblai, and this is my partner Corran Velt. We are here to help you. You are safe right now, just please listen to what we say. I am sure you are terrified, and you are doing an impressive job at remaining calm. The plan is get you out of here by... well... first, we must get out of this heat.”

Should Corran agree, Bast would begin the trek eastwards where the steam appeared to be less thick. The alley had no cooling vents, but was littered with industrial junk: scrap pieces, corroded metal, and a tangle of tubing. It took quite a bit of effort to wade through the mess, and the woman had to occasionally reach to the cracked duracrete wall for support. In truth, she had no idea where they were, only that they needed to keep moving.

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Corran Velt

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The adrenaline drained from Corran’s veins as a stillness descended upon the chaotic scene. All the criminals were down and the speeder-chase was over. The male Ranger rose to his feet from his kneeling fire position and stared over the wreckage. Two airspeeders near-totaled, intentional collision by Ranger operatives, possible reckless endangerment of the victim. Corran rubbed the back of his head anxiously. The report on the operation was going to be grueling. He prayed the grilling would be kind.

Out of the corner of his eye, the junior partner noticed Bast looking at him. He turned to see the tough former CorSec officer grinning ear to ear. That smile washed over the worry that had previously occupied Corran’s thoughts and he couldn’t help but smile back. He even laughed a bit, causing him to sit on the dented hood of the nearby crashed speeder to catch his breath. The tension was released in a genuine jovial moment. Bast was right. Things turned out pretty good so far.

That is until Ranger Emblai said comms couldn’t get through. She suggested that they move out – if for nothing else than getting out of the artificial heat. The Haxion Brood gang would probably start looking for their long-lost comrades pretty soon as well. The sooner the Rangers vanished into the mist, the better.

With Thyrs Vasser now in their custody, Corran followed Bast eastward out of the industrial zone. Every once and awhile, he’d stop to take a swig of water from a canteen. He didn’t bring much as he didn’t expect to be marching through rough, manufactured terrain in sweltering humidity. Slogging through it down here would eventually exhaust them and they’d be no closer to being evacuated.

Corran started looking up more than forward and spotted a partially damaged ladder that led up to scaffolding that scaled a windowless industrial tower. It wasn’t uncommon for these areas to have skybridges or other vantage points for workers or business guests to overlook the industry.

“Hold up. I think I found something,” Corran called out to the others. The young man waved the others to the rusty ladder. It looked sturdy, despite a few of the lower rungs having been broken off. “I’ll go first,” the male Ranger volunteered, “If I fall; catch me.” He winked at Bast with a boyish grin, signifying the joke. The male Ranger pulled himself up on the ladder and it didn't give. Once he made it up a few rungs and onto the scaffolding, he'd offer to help the others up. The scaffolding itself snaked around the industrial tower in a slow incline, leading up to a series of skybridges. They were hard to see through all the mist and steam, but their black outlines were visible. Eventually the group would be above the grime and heat from below, the sky was clearing from the rainstorm earlier but light grey clouds dominated the horizon. A soothing wind was constantly blowing at this height, acting as a natural fan to the sweaty Rangers and their escort.

Corran tapped his comms, "Command, do you read? Ranger Corran Velt requesting pick-up. Over." Static. Maybe the collision, rain, and steam had really done a number on their personal comms. They'd have to find some other communications relay or flag down a transport.

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Bast Emblai

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The walk through the smog was grueling. Bast’s hair, having partially escaped its bun, was sticking to her neck and forehead. Her light tactical outfit was plastered to her body, damp and clinging. The ranger had never been to a humid jungle planet, but she figured this is what it would feel like. The mist blanketed every surface, meaning the group was traversing somewhat blindly, only seeing through a green-tinged fog. The man in their custody had downed almost her entire canteen. She was beginning to feel a little sick. After what seemed an eternity, Corran spoke up and gestured towards a precarious looking ladder, made of pipe and rusted to a deep ruddy-orange. It seemed risky- rusted metal was especially brittle, but they were quickly running out of options and potable water. The report was going to be bad enough without having to mention both rangers and the boy under their protection had suffered heatstroke. Not to mention the accidental civilian casualty, which would place the officer in a rather unfavorable light.

Somehow, her blonde partner had maintained his youthful energy and cracked a joke, even winking at her. Usually, nobody winked at Bast unless they were drunk and thought she wanted their attention. She never did. This was different, though. For one, she doubted it was a statement about her appearance, considering she looked like she hadn’t slept in a week and been run over by a bantha. Then there was the clear reason of situation and personality. Her partner’s boyishness meant he overcame most obstacles with a lighthearted but focused attitude. Bast had no verbal response, but the corners of her mouth twitched into a smirk and she shook her head in false-dismay.

Thyrs was up next, and with a boost from the woman and a hand from the man, he made it up into the scaffolding. The former detective considered her options. It had been awhile since basic, and the first wrung was rougly two meters above the ground. She crouched and sprung, weathered hands clinging onto the roughly textured bar of metal. Grunting slightly with effort, she pulled herself up and took a firm hold of Corran’s hand to get herself in a standing position. The scaffolding was like a maze of criss-crossed beams and not much easier to get through than the ground below. The uphill climb ended on an open sky bridge, far above the grungy street level. A cool breeze blew, and the woman took a moment to lean against the railing and let the air move refreshingly past her flushed face. Clouds threatened more rain, but for the time being only rumbles distantly.

Pacing the length of the suspended structure, a box hooked to a post caught her eye. Inside was a simple communications port. Relief flooded every inch of the Sector Ranger’s body.
“Over here!” Then, turning a range dial, she spoke. “This is Sector Ranger Bast Emblai. Do you copy? We need a transport to this location ASAP as well as a medic to check out a hostage in our custody. Over.”

Too exhausted to smile, she simply sat on the railing and took in the view. The boy was finally going home.

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Corran Velt

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The sound of Bast calling for the two men’s attention caused them to jog up to box connected by metal to one of the sky-bridges. By the time Corran arrived, his partner was wrapping up her signal for help. A few silent moments went by. The male Ranger’s breathing was heavy, both from ascending up the tower itself and out of anxious anticipation.

“Copy that, Ranger Emblai. Transports are en route. Out.” The serious disembodied voice of local authorities finally replied and ended the connection. Corran sighed heavily with relief. Even with all the risks taken and last-second judgement calls, the Rangers had rescued Thyrs Vasser with no harm to him or themselves. As things usually go, that's pretty miraculous. Thyrs, for his part, had a pretty bad past 48 hours. The young man sat down on the skybridge, holding tight to the communications port. He wouldn't be going anywhere except with the authorities coming to pick him up and take him back to his worried parents.

Corran unsecured the clasps to his jacket and opened it to the cool, breezy air. He leaned back on a railing, using his hands to support and secure himself. The male Ranger looked at the calming view as some clouds began to part and reveal a soothing blue sky. Some sun-rays began to glisten off the city-scape in the distance. His gaze shifted to his partner sitting on the railing to his left. The wind seemed to cause the loose strands of her hair to flutter back, giving her an almost dreamy appearance. A small smirk slowly appeared on the corner of his mouth. Corran felt a distinct comfort in his chest. If Bast and him were together, they could take on almost anything.

In far off distance, faint sirens could be heard. Their ride would soon be here. But... for now, he liked the peace and quiet to enjoy the view.

/END THREAD

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