Ask Run to Tirahnn

[Crix Dolan]

Crix, working under the alias of Damon Kross, sat in the captain's chair of his Lancer Patrol Craft, The Freebird. He was still reeling from the holonet broadcast a few days ago. Everything he'd heard about The White Lion and Zaa Fenn was false. Whatever leadership and honor Peef Callo had provided for the largest family in the Crymorrah Syndicate it was gone.

The Scoundrel's morals were far from Jedi in nature, but killing innocent people to prove a point? That was bullshit. Steal from the rich, terrorize the senate, price gouge planets that lived in abundance, but leave the frakking people alone. They didn't ask to be collateral damage. They didn't ask for their lives to be uprooted and destroyed on the whims of some psychopath with a god complex.

Beegee, his BD unit, rolled into the cockpit and warbled cautiously. They'd been in hyperspace for about six hours and were nearing the location Senator togTherador had warned them about. The pirates operating in this sector were utilizing a gravity well/ion cannon combination that was lethal for those caught by surprise. Luckily, Crix's time as a pirate had given him experience with similar tactics.

The Smuggler gave the droid a pat on the dome and said, "Take over for me, would you? I need to stretch my legs before things get wild."

Beegee complied and connected to the Astromech socket as Crix stood stretched and walked to his lounge. He activated his holoprojector and hailed his partner for this run, a newly minted arms dealer named Davrik Lorso. Crix was interested in this guy. The Smuggler knew in the days to come he'd need someone he could trust, or at least depend on, for illicit arms in large quantities. If Davirk knew what he was doing, he'd considered keeping contact with the guy.

The whir of the holoprojector intensified and once the communication was accepted, he'd say, "Davrik, we're about fifteen minutes out from our first hurdle, you ready?"

@Eccles

 

[Davik Lorso]

"Fifteen minutes, roger that," Davik replied as he opened the 'leaving hyperspace checklist' file on his datapad. Don't misunderstand him, he knows how to fly his ship. By the Force, he does!

Alright, so you still don't believe? Davik is perhaps not born in space, but definitely bred for it. He grew up with the Ossein Fleets. Lived the nomadic lifestyle. Knew how to work on ship and navigate the stars before he could read or hold down his liquor. So maybe he still can't quite hold down his liquor and that doesn't say much, but it was just smart to work with checklists. Some Republic navy transport pilot once shared that fact with him over drinks at a spaceport cantina. Apparently fighting navies use checklists for everything. So when you lose your memory in the heat of battle, and believe me that happens, you can always save yourself and your crew by following the checklist.

Best time investment, ever.

Right, back to the holo-call. "You know, it's actually pronounced 'Lavik'-" he lied to his new smuggling associate, "Lavik Dorso. Also known as the Iron Kowak" Not to be mistaken with one 'Davik Lorso' who may or may not have been involved in the kidnapping of the ISC president some time ago and got a bounty on his name.

His ship, the 'Wet Kitty', also not to be mistaken with the iconic Catscratch that belonged to the awful smuggler Davik Lorso, was pretty much filled with the Iron Kowak's signature trading cargo: weapons. Blasters to be exact. Sidearms and rifles to arm any criminal group, insurrection or Outer Rim government looking to buy last year's coreworld weapons for a cheaper price than the megacorporations demanded. A man had to make a living, okay?

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Crix cocked his head skeptically as Lavrik corrected him on the pronunciation of his name.

"Uh, sure. My mistake," he replied.

Crix picked up his datapad from the table and scanned the document detailing the information he'd been provided on his partner and shrugged. If the guy wanted to go by an alias, it didn't matter to him. For a split second, The Scoundrel wondered if Lavik was being slick. Hinting that he knew Crix's true identity, but if he had to bet on it he'd guess the guy just had a bounty on his head.

"If you're good, I'm good. Just wanted to make sure you didn't have any more questions before things got rough."

If Dav--Lavrik was good, Crix would cut the transmission and do a final check on the cargo. The shipping containers they'd been sent had hidden compartments built into them that housed the illicit arms they were transporting to Tirann. While the front two third's of the durasteel boxes held foodstuffs, medical supplies, and stim packs, the back third held blasters, various explosives, and armor.

Life was funny. Six years ago he was a week away from becoming a dad. Today he was delivering munitions to a possible terrorist group because a rich Ithorian paid him good money to do it. He'd rather be a dad.

The Smuggler made his way back to the cockpit and took over the controls from Beegee. The Freebird shuddered and all kinds of alarms demanded his attention. It was time. The mottled blue miasma of hyperspace evaporated into elongated stars before collapsing into a static starscape. Directly ahead of him were four ships armed to the teeth.

A VT-49 Decimator sat in the center flanked by two Cutlass-9 Patrol Starfighters, and nestled in the back was a NU-Class Assault Shuttle wielding the gravity well.

Before their opposition had time to think Crix said, "Beegee, punch it!"

@Eccles

 

[Davik Lorso]

Davik checked the monitor of his cargo hold and was comforted that everything was strapped in tight. The Catscratch' hold was filled with crates of weapons, offering no pretense it was transporting anything else, and that allowed him to room to strap everything extra tight. He was striking off the fourth task on his to-do list by checking if the cargo was still secure when almost every sensor in the cockpit suddenly started showing red. All systems suddenly measured activity outside normal parameters and Davik had no choice but to quickly abandon the checklist and disengage the hyperdrive.

"Kriff, open comms to-" he pressed the button to re-establish the line with The Freebird, but as he saw her also leaving hyperspace he looked passed her and noticed the four pirate vessels. The first thing Crix, or Damon Kross as Davik actually knew him, would hear was a very angry "-Kriff!"

The 'Wet Kitty' banked left as Davik brought the nose of the Lethisk-class Armed Freighter towards the NU-Class Assault Shuttle and diverted all shield power to his front. "Disable the kriffing gravity well!" he cried into the comline with Damon Kross and pressed the firing button himself, sending three hot medium lasers towards his target.

Davik knew these type of ships. If they could disable the gravity well and the two starfighters they had a chance of outrunning the other two.. but it wasn't a fair fight. Not in a long shot.

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

The Freebird twisted in a downward arching corkscrew as laser cannons lit up the void. Streaks of red and green shot past the transpristeel viewport as Crix spat out through gritted teeth, "Beegee give me the groundsweeper, you take the forward cannons."

His maneuver managed to split the pirates. They'd clearly been ready to play the intimidation game, not chase a patrol craft. Crix put his military-grade maneuvering jets to the test as he whipped the ship back upward spinning past the starfighter that'd had come after him. The second fighter was tearing after the Iron Kowok, and the Decimator was guarding the gravwell.

Crix opened fire on the Decimator and managed to score a solid hit on the ship, before throwing himself to the left to avoid cannon fire from the starfighter that had recovered from earlier. This was going to be tough, the pirates clearly knew what they were doing and it was obvious their Captain knew what he was doing.

The Freebird's comms twilled and Beegee warbled that it was incoming from the Gunship. Crixed opened the comm, "Ready to surrender?"

A twilekki purr came across the line, "Hardly, you're outgunned. Why don't you shut down your weapon systems and I'll forgive you for opening fire on me."

Crix scoffed, "Three on two isn't as one-sided as you'd think. Last chance, sweetie."

The voice on the other end chuckled, "Ooh, I'm going to enjoy picking you apart."

Before Crix could respond the line cut and the Decimator fired a torpedo. With a grimace, Crix dove slamming the throttle forward. He was tempted to proc his de-limiter, but if it went on the frits he'd be dead. The klaxon call of impending conflagration blared in his ears. As the explosive closed in he saw the starfighter drop back on his radar. He'd only get one shot at this. His eyes were glued to the blinking orb closing in rapidly on his screen. Just before it collided with him, he pressed his controls down.

The projectile narrowly missed the hull of his ship. Crix spotted the fighter and prepared to take it out.

@Eccles

 

[Davik Lorso]

The Cutlass-9 Patrol Starfighter was the Catscratch's superior in almost every aspect. 35 MGLT overspeed, capable of firing missiles, double the cannons and didn't maneuver like and old republic-era ship. The only thing that gave Davik a decent shot was the fact that his shield generator was just a little bit better, but that did put him on the defensive sooner that he liked. The fact that his cannons were fixed to the front of the ship didn't make it the best for dogfights either.

The starfighter passed him with a sudden burst of speed and turned to fire its cannons at the Catscratch' rear, which wasn't currently protected by shields and left Davik open to become the victim of one-shot total destruction. Luckily for him, these were pirates after his cargo and not some destruction hungry navy fighters, so the starfighter fired only two shots directly at his engines.

Davik yanked at the wheel, forcing his beloved ship sideways and tank the laser shots on the durasteel hull. Pressure alarms immediately started blaring and as a safety precaution the cockpit was immediately closed off with automatic durasteel doors to preserve pressure. Agitated and stressed, Davik quickly redistributed shield power to the entire ship and tried to get some idea of where all the other ships where and what they were doing.

"Wet Kitty, you're outclassed. Power down, we're only interested in your cargo." Something in the tone of voice made Davik really angry. What did they mean they were only after the cargo? Wasn't the Catscratch good enough for them? Did they think they couldn't even get decent scrap from his purring baby? Davik put almost two decades of hard work in this ship! Blood, sweat, tears and all the credits he had.

That's it. No one insults the Catscratch, "Okay, okay-" he redirected the nose of his ship towards the NU-class Attack Shuttle that held the gravity well, "-I'll power down the Catscratch-" he was done pretending and pushed the throttle all the way down, -into your kriffing face!"

Building up the Lethisk-class' top speed of 65 MGLT, Davik diverted all auxillary power to his shields and set a collision course with the NU-class Attack Shuttle. He imagined someone yelling at the starfighters to kill his engines, but that wouldn't be so easy.. not without having to abandon their focus on The Freebird.

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

The Freebird's frontal cannons opened fire on the Cutlass-9 before them. The ship's engines burst and soon after the rest of the ship went up. Without hesitation, Crix adjusted his trajectory toward The Wet Kitty and was a little confused by his wingmate's flight path. There was a sense of panic in the starfighter trailing them and The Smuggler's eyes widened when he realized what the Lethisk-class armed freighter was planning.

Crix cut on his comm to The Wet Kitty, "Really, you're gonna ram it?"

Even as he questioned his comrade's choice, The Smuggler couldn't help but "yes and," the choice. A wry grin spread across his face as he closed in on the Cutlass tailing Iron Kowok. The Decimator was doing it's best to intercept the maneuver, but the ship just wasn't fast enough. Just as the starfighter was coming into range, Crix opened fire.

His weapons ripped through the right-wing of the Cuttlass starfighter sending it careening out of control into the vacuum of space. Now there was nothing stopping Iron from ramming the Nu-Class Assault ship.

Crix flipped his comm to the Decimator, "Sure you don't wanna surrender?"

The comm was silent for a heartbeat before the twi'lekki accent drifted through the frequency. "You've proven to be a daring pilot Freebird, it's a shame we couldn't meet in different circumstances."

The Smuggler prepared for the worst, but it never came. The Wet Kitty slammed into the Nu-Class and the conflagration was so intense he was forced to close his eyes. By the time he reopened them the YT gunship was jumping to lightspeed.

"See you soon, cowboy," was the last thing he heard before the ship shot off into hyperspace.

Crix stared at the empty void and tried hailing the Wet Kitty. The ship had vanished. Unless it had been reduced to slag. There was nothing he could do about it now, and so he adjusted his trajectory and Beegee ran the calculations. Soon after they shot off into hyperspace.

The jump was small. They'd been about two-thirds of the way there before the Pirates had hit, and Crix had been sure to mark the coordinates in his computer. As they dropped out of hyperspace they spotted the TAC convoy they'd run interference for. He hailed the ships with his holoprojector.

"Evening, all good on this side. The encounter with the pirates proved to be an intense one. Luckily, we should be sailing smoothly for the remainder of this transport. Make sure your transponders are up to date and let's prepare to finish this job."

He'd allow for any inquiries and then once everyone seemed to be satisfied he'd follow his own advice before taking point. The transponder he used was one provided by his company Hardlight. It was a run-of-the-mill identity that proclaimed he was a routine delivery ship.

Tirahnn was in full view and the planet was beautiful in the contrasting void that enveloped it. If they were lucky the rest of this run would be easy, but luck rarely held out in a galaxy like this one.

@Wit

 

[Selene Trakand]

ROSE

Aboard one of the TAC vessels, Rose was sprawled on the most comfortable seat she had been able to find. She had actually spent a solid half hour inspecting each ship, claiming to want to make sure no one had snuck any surprised on board, but in reality looking for the seat she was currently occupying. A comfy little love-couch in the ship's small lounge area, she had settled in once the ship took off, switched her vocal implants to noise isolation mode to cut out the sounds of the ship, and had herself a nice nap.

She could make it through long jumps if she needed to, but if possible she preferred spending her time in space drunk, drugged, or sleeping, ideally all three at once. This time, with the plan allowing for smooth sailing, and the simple fact that she couldn't do much even if they were attacked, she had chosen to sleep through the trip.

It was only when they dropped out of hyperspace near Tirahnn that a pre-set alarm went off to pull her back to the world of the living. She opened her eyes to spot a rather scared looking kid standing at nearby, obviously caught in the process of trying o figure out how to wake her up. "Umm," he began as she slid her feet of the table that probably passed as the crew's dinner table and stretched, "cap'n says we're here, wants ya in the cock's pit."

Smiling at his words, she did one last stretch, cracking her neck as she let out a yawn. "Cockpit," she said as she patted his head as she walked past him, "its called a cockpit."

Still smiling at his words, she made her way to the bridge. But the smile vanishing as she spotted Tirahnn hanging in the distance outside the cockpit's main viewport and the reality where she was rushed back. One of the crew members, one of three in the cockpit, noticed her arrival and informed her that they were ready to begin descent. Taking the headset he offered her, she patched through a line to ground control.

"Little Dipper to Tirahnn Ground Control, requesting descent approval."

She waited, but though their request was acknowledged for almost five minutes there was no response. Flicking a switch to contact Crix on another frequency, she questioned the thought that was on everyone's mind.

"Is it supposed to take this long for the transponders to check out?"

She was about to say more when static crackled on the speakers and a response finally came through. "Little Dipper, you are approved for descent, proceed on provided entry vector. Escorts headed your way."

"Escorts?" She whispered over the comms to Crix, "No one said anything about escorts!"

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Crix could still feel the adrenalin of battle receding from his veins as he was hailed. A feminine voice he didn't recognize came over the line and he assumed it was the mercenary he'd hired, Rose.

"Take it easy, escorts are common on planets currently in a civil dispute. The cargo is well hidden, and we have agents on the ground waiting on us."

The Freebird settled in just above the little dipper. He needed to play the part of dutiful protector. His ship was heavily modified and without the senator's provided spoofer this job would have been way more difficult.

Two patrol crafts and a gunship met them just outside Tiraan's orbit. The gunship looked particularly mean, but Crix stuffed the anxiety chalking it up to the pirates he'd just fought.

"Firefly, you're approved for decent, don't get any ideas or we'll put you down."

Crix rolled his eyes and answered, "Copy."

He fell in line with the transports, now taking up the rear. Crix felt the orbital grasp of Tiraan's gravity as it began coaxing the line of ships toward it. Breaking atmosphere was always a tricky thing. For the most part, ships had become automized to the transition, but his ship still existed in that manual space. He and Beegee began the process and seamlessly made the shift.

The surface below came into view. Tiny multi-colored flags and banners dotted the ground below and streams of speeders ran the planet's infrastructure in a constant ebb and flow. On the horizon, pillars of black smoke reached for the heavens and signaled the truth of the planet's dismay. Before his thoughts could linger on whether or not he was helping or hurting the people of this place, the space station came into view.

They were ushered toward the freight unloading pad. This would be the hard part, once they landed the cargo they were hauing would be inspected. Crix just hoped their contacts would be onscreen.

@Wit

 

[Selene Trakand]

ROSE

Space was not her area of expertise, and with how different planets around the world seemed to work by their own rules, she had no option but to cede to Crix's judgement on this. He obviously knew what he was doing, so the fact that he didn't seem bothered by the escort was enough for her. "Copy that," she responded to Ground Control, keeping the lines open with Crix as well so that he could listen in, "escort spotted, beginning descent."

Her right hand gripping the back of the navigator's chair, she watched tensely as the two gunships took up positions closely, and they began their descent. Thankfully some turbulence on the way down was the only hitch in the ride, and Rose had to force herself to relax and let go of the chair that she had gripped so hard that her knuckles had turned white under the strain.

"Guess you were right," she sent to Crix as the escort peeled away, "hope you're right about your contacts as well."

Once they touched down, Rose headed for the ramp that was lowering, and as she stepped out she was greeted by a trio of rather mean looking grunts slipping out from behind crates and dark shadowing corners, headed straight for her.

"Those better be your contacts."


@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

Crix under his alias Damon couldn't help but notice a tinge of agitation from the mercenary he'd hired. Rose seemed eager for a reason to jump ship and that made him uneasy. The loyalty of a mercenary was always paid for, but this one seemed overly concerned with their own welfare.

Damon thanked the gods he'd taken care of the fighting before they met up. The last thing he'd want was someone questioning everything he was doing. Granted in this galaxy he couldn't blame her. The lives of mercenaries were traded like Hutt ball cards and their value was only determined by the danger they were willing to face.

He strode down the ramp of The Freebird and nodded a salutation at Rose. Her attitude was still wonderfully inviting, as she again made it clear she didn't trust him.

"And if they aren't?"

He leveled her with a challenging stare. It was one thing to be nervous, it was another to tiptoe around a threat. In their line of business, threats were saved for your enemies, not the people you were working with. The cargo from his ship was being unloaded, as the customs agents arrived.

Two of the squad of four broke off and began scanning the containers. Damon kept his eyes forward. The officer lifted a datapad for him to review.

"I hope your escort in wasn't too harsh. Tense times on Tirahnn, ya know."

Damon reviewed the document commenting, "That's what I've heard. Hopefully, you haven't been running into much trouble."

The officer scoffed, "Oh, only from the higher-ups. They really like punching down... if you catch my drift."

Damon looked up only now noticing the quality, or lack thereof, of the officer's uniform. A knowing smile spread across his face.

"Well, here's hoping these supplies make things a little easier."

Damon signed the forms and handed the datapad back to the officer. The man nodded his own smile showing through.

"I think they'll do wonders."

Damon shook the man's hand, then turned to head back to his ship. He shot a sneer in Rose's direction, "Guess it was them."

With The Freebird still warm, Damon would take to the skies in a matter of minutes. The job was done, but there was still plenty of work ahead. The purr of the pirate's voice replayed in his mind as he walked up his boarding ramp. With the delivery out of the way, it was time to take care of the pirates.

Thread 1 Complete...​

@Wit