The Spice Boys

[Hol Horse]

​

Athir looked down at Kessel from the large window that covered the entirety of the wall. The zabrak felt a slight frown come up onto his face as he saw the notorious planet rotating slowly below him, the molding green of the planet's atmosphere seeming to give it a permanent forboding haze. The thought of the poor souls mining in slavery for just about every lowlife in the galaxy made the humanoid shiver a bit. Athir had only tried some spice a couple of times back on Coruscant, the stuff was all over the place- especially in some of the seedier parts of the capital, personally he had never liked the stuff that much, he had nearly had dual-cardiac arrest the first time he tried it and vowed not to do so again. Yet, here he was, standing in Kessel 1, the main spaceport orbiting the planet. Here, crime gangs, independents, bounty hunters, and lowlifes from all over collected to seek out some sort of profit from the criminal kingpins that operated on this metal prison.

It struck Athir as a bit ironic almost, he had grown up hearing nothing of the glory of the republic, yet they seemed too focused only on fighting the Sith that they never bothered to deal with the rats in their own metaphorical living room. The zabrak's green eyes continued to watch as the planet slowly rotated, recalling to himself how he had wound up here of all places.

After his incident on Taydoria, the Hutts seemed to trust him enough to let him try his hand at something only marginally more dangerous than smuggling Firespray from Coruscant: smuggling Spice from Kessel to Coruscant. Athir may have been a novice smuggler, a small fry in a massive and profitable business, but even he knew the dangers of this route. Patrols, piracy, asteroids and more plauged the hyperspace route from the outer rim to the core worlds. Still, the money was good, damn good- and if there was one thing that Athir cared about, it was making some damn good damn good money.

The sound of footsteps behind him caused the zabrak to stir, he had been told by one of the Hutt contacts to wait in a meeting room located in the ViP level of the station. He'd be finding out the details of this trip soon enough. Hopefully it'd be for the better, he felt paranoid looking down at the enslaved planet beneath him.

@Zay

 

[Zay]

Kessel... it just HAD to be Kessel. thought Damon Kross as he trudged down the hall. Normally, he'd be gitty as a school girl to be at the mecca of spice, but since he was trying to get clean it was an inconvenience to have it so, mercilessly flaunted all around him. He was fully aware the Hutt who organized this little shin-dig probably did this as a part of the test. Weed out the junkies. It was smart something Kross himself would need to remember when hiring new blood for KTI.

He hung a right and came to the elevator that went to the VIP section of the station. A Weequay bouncer stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Damon flashed his invitation and without a word the being stepped to it's left and the doors to the VIP section slid open. Kross took the elevator to the top floor. As it reached the top the doors opened and he took a left. The opulence was incredible. To say the VIP section was over the top would be such a grave injustice to the absolute ridiculousness of the floors grandiose gaudiness.

To Damon this display of wealth was tacky. It was like watching a homeless person hit the lottery. Anything and everything they wanted was suddenly at their doorstep, and rather than saying "No thanks," to the golden statue that looks like a giant pile of bantha dung they say, "Please! I'd love that abstract pure gold Hutt statue!" It was gross. No class at all. Damon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver case. He opened the case and pulled out a cigara, putting to hand rolled treat into his lip before cloaking the case and then pulling out his lighter and sparking up the cigara. Cigara lit and the edge of his craving temporarily ebbed, Damon stepped into the meeting room.

The view of Kessel was incredible. It was like the planet was only there to entertain the beings in this room. As he passed the threshold into the room Damon decided to stick close to the door just in case this started to go south. The other members of this motley crew looked like they were ripped right out of a movie. His brow furrowed momentarily as he double checked his datapad to make sure he was in the right place. He was definitely in the right room. Scanning from left to right Damon saw 9 beings himself being the tenth. There were a three gotal, a woman, a zabrack, two rodains, and two weequay. This assortment could have been the set up of a bad joke. He blew out a plume of smoke and kept to himself. There would be time for introductions later.

Having seen the competition Damon was glad he'd worn his leather duster and navy trousers. The jacket perfectly hid the blastsword on his right hip and the blaster on his left. He also decided to bring his stun gun, just in case he was forced to subdue one of his fellow smugglers. The stun gun was in its holster behind his back. He really hoped he wouldn't have to use any of the weapons he brought, but he found it hard to believe there wasn't some catch the Hutt wasn't telling them. Only time would tell.

The lights in the room dimmed and the holoprojector in the center of the room lit up and an image of a scantily clad twi'lek came into view. The woman preformed a typical cantina dance and then the screen changed to the gelatinous blob known as Nibezzo the Hutt. Damon chuckled derisively and under his breath added, "This is gonna be good..."

@Ravendark

 

[Hol Horse]

Footsteps, that was what Athir heard.

The zabrak turned around to face the newcomers, but was startled to find that this strnager was not any of the Hutt clan representatives- so far as he could tell at least. Instead, a number of strangers had arrived, something that caused the red skinned humanoid to frown a tad. He had assumed he would be working alone on this run, having people he didn't know here complicated things. Still, Athir let these emotions go. There was nothing he could do, this was Nibezzo's show, not his, he could have as many actors on the stage so long as he could pay them all when the curtain call finally came around. The zabrak took solace in that as he picked up his strange, pink, fruity cocktail from the small serving droid that was nearby, sipping on it a bit as his green gaze swept the room to get a good look of the newcomers.

The first was the aforementioned human male, he seemed well older than Athir just from looking at him, he seemed to hold himself with the ease and pomp of a man who had done this countless times beforehand. The next was the brown-haired woman, she was probably shortest of all the smugglers present, clad in the tyical cargo pants, jackets, and holster belts one might expect from someone in their line of work. She smoked what looked like a cigar of some kind, her eyes an unusual pink color, she looked almost half asleep. The two rodian's seemed to form a pre-existing duo, they eyed everyone else with what Athir could almost feel as contempt and suspicion- a feeling that seemed to permeate the atmosphere in general. The zabrak felt calmer knowing he had his B-8R Blaster Pistorl hidden holstered in his belt. Finally, the Weequay who didn't seem bothered by the amalgamation of smugglers, and instead were enjoying themselves both with drink, Athir wasn't sure how to feel about the two of them.

The circular room they were in seemed to dim its lights a fair bit, the holoprojector in the middle of the room sparking to life. Athir grinned a tad as he saw the nice piece of Twi'lek shuffle into the view of the holoprojector, showing off her best assets to the various smugglers- perhaps he might have been enjoying the show a bit more than the others in the room. As Nibezzo eventually came into view however, the atmosphere seemed to drop down to a still. The Hutt laughed as he gazed for a moment or two at his slave, eventually yaking at her chain suddenly, jolting her to a stop as she yelped in pain, clutching at her collar. Looking out over the room almost, Nibezzo gave a sly grin that sent shivers down Athir's spine. He had seen some foul people do some foul things in the grimy place of Coruscant, but despite it all the smile of these slug-kings never failed to intimidate him.

"Mee chowbaso u tah myo service smugglers, mee hope our enterprise can be do mutually profitable wompa" Nibezzo bellowed, his voice seemingly bellowing throughout the room. A few moments later, a rickety looking protocol droid shuffled into view, "The esteemed Nibezzo says 'I welcome you to my service smugglers, I hope our enterprise can be a mutually profitable one...'". Athir raised an eyebrow at that introduction, he may have not been working for the Hutts long, but the word 'mutually profitable' never came to mind when he thought of his relationship to them, at least at the moment. Regardless, all eyes were on the slug as he spoke, "Mee will get tah doe point, mee have hired u all tah attempt doe largest single illegal cargo run of Spice tuta Kessel tah Coruscant. U will be using do CZ-PCT01 Freighter filled tah doe brim gee Spice um nothing else" before motioning to the droid to translate, "The esteemed Nibezzo says, 'I will get to the point, I have hired you all to attempt the largest single illegal cargo run of Spice from Kessel to Coruscant. You will be using a CZ-PCT01 Freighter filled to the brim with Spice and nothing else'".

Athir could feel something, maybe in his gut or in his head, that told him right off the bat that this was going to be a long day.

Running Spice from Kessel to Coruscant was not easy, doing it in the first place was a testament to a smuggler's skill and expertise. To attempt such a run with one of the largest civilian freighters with only 10 or so people was unheard of. Still, the Hutt said the magic words that men like Athir melted where they stood for, "If u succeed noleeya this, mee can promise u will be far richer than before. Figures will be noleeya doe millions". No translator was required to understand this final portion. The sheer word 'millions' made Athir's eyes bulge a bit, his mouth water, his testosterone flare up, his loins tighten- this was it, his big break, he could make a small fortune with this run if all went according to plan.

"Are there any questions for the esteemed Nibezza?" the droid asked the smugglers.

@Zay

 

[Zay]

Damon listened carefully as the Hutt spoke. There were a few things that were clear to him. One, the actual amount of money they would receive for this job would be far less than the "millions" the fat slug alluded to. Two, the smugglers in this room would turn on each other for higher profits, and three, being stuck in a ship full of premium grade spice was going to be a living hell for him. He sighed and flicked his cigara clearing the cherry of ash. He then lifted it to his mouth and breathed deeply. Good thing I brought my bag of Carababba tabac he thought to himself dryly.

The tension in the room was palpable. Narrowed eyes shifted nervously as seedy beings attempted to trust fellow criminals. The Rodians were the first to crack. Blaster flew forth from their holsters. The rodians, weequay, and woman had pulled their blasters in succession each now aiming at one another. The woman smiled and then spoke with a deep alto, "Ooooo, looks like we got ourselves a tatooine Tuesday. I like it." Damon cocked an eyebrow and then rolled his eyes. Franking amateurs...

As he did so he put his cigara in the corner of his mouth and, with his right hand, quickly pulled a flashbang from his belt before slipping his hand behind his back. The group of desperadoes playing cowpokes and gungans never saw the move, but the horn head might have. Damon was a little more focused on the armed morons at the moment. With his left hand he took his cigara and ashed it before returning it to his lips. He looked over to the Zabrak and flippantly remarked,"You think they're gonna stand there all day?"

A wry smile spread across his mouth as his jibe began to rustle the feathers of the armed smugglers. One of the rodians looked to Damon and in their weird bug language bit out some remark about Damon's mother sleeping with wookies. That would have bothered Kross, had he cared about his mother. Instead he responded with, "Nvtuta bork te ptu motta ni snato." The greenish blue alien darkened visibly and it's bulbous bug eyes seemed to writhe in their sockets. The rodian pointed his blaster at Kross and began to scream an obscenity at Damon, but the bug never had a chance.

Blam! A blaster bolt blew the rodians head clean off its body, sending a violent spray of viscera across the holoprojector and the floor. The smugglers in the stand off dove for cover. The remaining rodian cried out and held his fallen companion wailing mournfully. The pink eyed woman bellowed with sick laughter crying out, "Booom! Head shot! HAHAHAHAA!" Damon used the sudden distraction to dive through the door and took cover on the opposite side.

Disgusted by his fellow human Damon resolved to end her before this job was over regardless of her usefulness. He hated cheaters. Even if she had been in a Tatooine Tuesday, THIS was not Tatooine! Blaster fire erupted on the other side of the door. Damon reached up and smacked the control panel of the door. The door hissed closed. He counted to twenty as he got into a crouched position.

18...19...20! He opened the door and called out, "Close your eyes horn head!!! As he lobbed the flashbang into the room. Without waiting for a reaction or for the granade to go off, Damon turned and hauled ass toward the CZ-PCT01. Way he saw it, If he could get the ship up and running who ever made it was welcome to join his effort. Everyone knew the same thing: The fewer crew members the higher the cash out.

@Ravendark

 

[Hol Horse]

As the tension in the room began to mount, Athir felt his mind go into that special place. The money he would make if he did this would be substantial, he wasn't sure the exact number, but he knew that transporting the largest single run of Spice to Kessel meant for something. The zabrak eyed the other figures in the room as they slowly began to lower their hands to their weapons. Nibezza seemed to know what would come next, as he began to laugh on the holocron, his filthy and slimy features wriggling as he was seeing once agian a scene he was all too used to. Athir shot him a quick quip, "Tell the esteemed Nibezza that my associates and I will settle some buisness here before our departure, we'll be leaving shortly" the zabrak said, his deep voice teasing a rising flame as each person in the room felt their heartbeat race.

Nibezza heard the translation and laughed, not bothering to answer and instead slithering with his Twi'lek slave out of the view of the holocron. A few moments later, the lights in the room returned to normal, and the matter of who got on the ship reared its ugly head. Athir slowly lowered his hand to where his blaster was holstered in his belt, his right hand open and ready to unload a hip-shot on the closest target. The pink-eyed human found the scene amusing, seemingly excited by the dance of death the 10 of them were about to engage in. Athir smirked, he had never been in a shootout like this before- only seen them in holocron films, yet even he could pick up the basic idea of what to do. Standing next to the window, the closest piece of cover he had would be the sofa nearby. He eyed it for a moment before looking back at the other smugglers.

A bead of sweat dripped down the red and black skin of the zabrak, the world seemingly coming into a hyper focus. The casual and relaxed tones of the jibe made by the other human, the older of the two present and the better dressed one, calmed Athir's nerves a bit. He still had the wherewithall and charisma to exhale a provoking jest of his own, "-Nah, I think they'll crack any second now" he retorted, eyeing the Weequay who nervously talked to each other in their native tongues. One of the Rodians seemed to take the man's joke to heart and angrily shot some swear which the zabrak couldn't understand, turning his blaster to face him only to be blown to pieces by the woman.

Athir swore an obscenity in turn at the crazed woman's actions before his hand shot down to his blaster and pulled it out of its holster. One Weequay turned to face him while the other started shooting at the grieving Rodian. As the smuggler fired a shot from his blaster, the zabrak fell down to the floor on his back, firing a red bolt from his pistol which struck the left shoulder of the creature. It cried out in pain and instinctively dropped its blaster to clutch the hole that was now burned into it. The zabrak's heart raced as he scrambled back behind the couch, the other Weequay had stopped firing at the man and turned his attention on the creature who had killed his partner. Bolt after bolt of blaster fire struck the sofa as Athir yelled in frustration, feathers and pieces of fabirc flew everywhere as the couch began to be destroyed under the hail of firepower.

Athir found himself in an unfavorable spot, his cover wouldn't last much longer and that rifle would pierce him easily. His heart raced as he quickly tried to think up a plan, but the sound of a human voice directed at him to close his eyes snapped him back to reality. Instinctively taking the stranger's advice, Athir closed his eyes as a bright flash enveloped the meeting room. Somewhat dazed, but not blinded, Athir stumbled up to his feet, adrenaline and testosterone flowing through his entire body. The woman and Weequay, as well as the Rodian, fumbled blindly as the flash grenade served its purpose. The zabrak, seeing the silhouette of the human running through the door to the landing bay, gave chase.

The ViP level, despite being above the main hangar where most ships, including Athir's were docked, still held access to the Big Berthas of ships. The massive freighters the likes of which they were meant to use to get to Coruscant were too large to fit in most hangars, and so had terminal gates located around Kessel 1. Fortunately for the two smugglers, their ship was docked opposite of the ViP lounge. Athir sprinted past dignitaries and criminal notables, jumping over furniture and the like as he chased the human to the mega-freighter. As the zabrak reached the other side of the lobby, the sound of blaster fire could be heard, the other smugglers had regained their senses it seemed and were now firing at the two from the doorway. Fortunately for Athir and the human, they were in the clear, and a few moments later, were getting in the cockpit of the massive freighter.

 

[Zay]

Damon tore through the crowded hallways of the space station doing his best to avoid slamming into the various beings enjoying the VIP section. Not everyone made it out unscathed. A couple enjoying some brightly colored drinks stepped directly in front of the smuggler and he dropped his shoulder and slammed into the male. Both drinks went flying and the woman cried out in fear and then in anger as she rushed to her partners side.

Damon didn't look back as he continued forward. His eyes were on the entrance to the cargo bay where the ship was. His lungs burned and he has chastised himself for smoking before this run. He knew it was going to devolve into this why hadn't he had the foresight to get in some fracking cardio!

He crossed the threshold into the cargo bay and scanned the visible ships for the CZ-PCT01 Freighter. He spotted it off to the left side of the bay. He looked back to see the Zabrak closing the distance between them. His eyebrow arched in surprise and he smiled.

"Hurry up!" He called almost cheering the other smuggler on. He waited a few seconds and then disappeared around the corner as he moved toward the ship. He reached the vessel in no time and climbed into it. He quickly verified that he had the right ship by locating the absolutely insane amount of spice in its cargo hold.

His mouth watered with desire as he stared at the neatly packaged parcels. "Holy shab..." he muttered to himself as his reality mixed with his desire. He forced himself out of the room with an effort. Damon forced himself into the cock pit and started prepping the ship for take off. He heard the main hatch open. Immediately, Damon spun around and drew his blaster. He aimed toward the entrance on the ready just in case the being that entered wasn't friendly. "Who's there?" he called. "I'm willing to spilt it down the middle if you are. Just need an agreement."

 

[Hol Horse]

Athir looked the blaster pistol pointed straight between his eyes, making them, as one would expect, momentarily cross-eyed.

He had seen the human running ahead of him and leaping into the ship, no doubt starting it up. The zabrak panted heavily as he froze. He had been so busy running away from the pink eyed girl and the two humanoid aliens that he hadn't thought to think of a contingency in case the older man turned on him. It was a foolish mistake and poor planning on his part, he made note not to be so careless again. This self-deprecation did nothing to help his position however, as he was now at the moment utterly at the mercy of the suave looking man who seemed to look at him with a mixture of alarm and desperation- the same look that Athir now gave him in return. The red alien quickly spoke his name at being asked who he was, "Athir, and you?" he asked, trying to save his pretty face from getting a plasma bolt planted right through it.

At hearing the human offer to split the deal 50/50, Athir visibly winced. He was a greedy sonuvabitch, even he knew that, it was just who he was, and the prospect of cutting the potential profit he could make off a haul this big hurt him where he could feel it more than in his heart: his wallet. For a second, the man hesitated, leaning forwards a tad, actually entertainng the fanciful notion of possibly dodging the blaster pistol aimed at him at point blank range, before realizing he'd be a fool and an idiot for trying to do so. Instead, the zabrak let out a, "Gah!" of frustration as he reluctantly let common sense prevail and replied, "Deal. It takes two people to pilot a freighter this big anyways" he stated, hoping that his words would get the human to let him fully into the cockpit and into the co-pilot's seat.

Once the human had holstered his blaster, Athir would scramble up next to him and sit in the cushioned leather chair next to him, putting on the typicla headset a co-pilot like him would wear. Naturally, the first thing the red alien did was look for the security panel, "There's a hell of a lot more buttons in this thing than my usual freighter" he mused aloud to himself as his head looked around frantically. He needed to lock the entry-hatch to the ship, those smugglers, if they hadn't killed each other, were sure to be on their tail and a few seconds away from reaching them. Finally, Athir spotted said panel on his right, locking down the ship and all of its hatches. Nobody else was getting on this thing.

The zabrak briefly looked to the human before releasing their ship from the space-station terminal. The freighter's engines whirred to life behind them as the ship slowly drifted away from Kessel 1. The two of them had made it. Of course, it wouldn't be quite that simple now would it? Athir knew that if those smugglers were still alive, they'd no doubt be getting in their own ships to chase them down, something that may have been quite possible in the slow-moving freighter. Getting into hyperspace was imperative, "I don't know the kessel run that well, but I know the first half of our trip sees us going to Kashyyyk. We'll figure the rest out as we go along" he stated, hastily locking in the coordinates through the freighter's navigation system. Kashyyyk was a fair bit away from Kessel, but it was on the fringes of Republic territory, they would be able to slip through patrols hopefully if they went along the hyperways leading there. After the coordinates for the hyperdrive were locked and loaded, the zabrak looked up to the human who served as the ship's primary captain and thus controlled the aforementioned hyperdrive.

"Punch it" Athir said, as the ship waited to be launched into action.... Yet still, the zabrak had the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something...

Something imporant.

@Zay

 

[Zay]

Tension mounted as the seconds ticked away with no answer. Damon swallowed and prepared for the worst when a voice called back, "Athir, and you?"

Kross tried placing the origin of the name and decided that the being approaching couldn't be the crazy woman or the weequay, but his professional paranoia encouraged him to keep his blaster trained on the entryway. He waited a couple of heartbeats and then replied, "Name's Damon Kross, welcome to the crew Athir." He gave the being a moment to process his response and then added, "You good with my terms?"

The being emerged around the corner and yelped as he took a look at Damon's blaster. As Damon laid eyes on the Zabrak he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't positive the younger smuggler would make it, but he was glad he did. Out of all the other "veteran" smugglers in the VIP room; this kid was the only one to keep his head on enough to avoid the full effects of the flash bang. Athir showed promise there was no doubt about that, but was he smart enough to put his pride aside to make some money? That was the real question.

"Deal. It takes two people to pilot a freighter this big anyways" The response made Kross smile. This kid was going to go places.

"Good choice." he said with a wry smile. He holstered his blaster and stepped aside so that the other smuggler could enter. Damon started the diagnostic tests and began familiarizing himself with the ships equipment. There wasn't much to see which was disappointing. The Nav system was a glorified GPS. That would make the Kessel run a pain to navigate, but it was way better than trying to skate The Maw.

Athir stood at the security panel and commented on the complexity of the system. Damon chucked derisively remarking, "Yeah, this ship is going to be a real pain. Treat it like an old Kuat Freighter and it should start to make more sense." Damon's eyes remains focused on the main systems console as he spoke. With one last input the ships engines came to life and the whine of the hyperdrive warming up was like music to his ears.

As soon as they hit open space he'd punch it to the first jump point. With the spice load they were carrying they would need to planet hop and avoid main trade routes in order to get close enough to Coruscant. That would give Damon enough time to figure out how they'd get the spice actually onto the planet surface.

"I don't know the kessel run that well, but I know the first half of our trip sees us going to Kashyyyk. We'll figure the rest out as we go along" said Athir. Damon glanced over checking to see if the younger smuggler was trying to pull one over on him.

Deciding the younger smuggler was just inexperienced he replied, "If we stick to the Kessel run, we'll be gunned down by our fellow smugglers in no time." Kross gestured to their surroundings and said, "We're running on a ghost crew right now and the equipment in this shab heap isn't good enough to get us through that run without being caught." Damon hit a few keys and brought a star map up on the nav projector. He zoomed in on their current sector and said, "Personally, I think we should back door it through the Kessel Trade Corridor. From there we can decide where we're gonna make our first jump." He gave the Zabrak a few minutes to look over the map, so he could see Damon wasn't trying to pull a fast one on him.

Their relationship was currently unstable. Neither knew or trusted the other, and being open with decisions would be key for their survival. Add in the smuggler's currently after them and the added stress of a HUGE amount of spice in their cargo hold, and you had a cocktail for disaster ready to be shaken and served.

As the large freighter drifted away from Kessel 1, Damon corrected the trajectory and eased the throttle forward. The ship moved due galactic north toward the trade corridor and Kross increased to cruising speed. With their journey just beginning Kross thought it might be a good time to offer up an olive branch. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver metallic case. He pulled two perfectly hand rolled cigarras from the container and offered one to Athir. He lit his and then offered the light to the younger smuggler. It made no difference to Kross whether Athir took the cigarra or not. Some beings didn't smoke and while Kross couldn't understand the motive behind it he wouldn't take offence to the denial. After all if Athir didn't smoke it meant more for him and the smuggler was alright with that.

Suddenly, one of the radars started to go off. Kross slammed the throttle down and prayed the engines were warm enough for the sudden acceleration. He put his cigarra in his lip and grabbed the control with both hands. They were close to the Corridor. If they could make it there it would be a short jump to Zerm. Once there they could really see what this ship could do. The thrill of battle was starting to ease it's way into his veins as adrenaline was released into his blood stream. The familiar feeling brought a smile to his face.

He looked to Athir and the Zebrak looked back and then said, "Punch it!!"

Damon laughed and said, "I'm giving it all she's got. We've got to get away from Kessel 1 and alter our heading to due galactic south. That's the soonest we'll be able to jump. You think you can hold them off till we're ready?" The ship closing in on them was unidentified and clearly waiting to get the jump on them once out of Kessel 1's security force's district. That district just so happened to end at the southward bend of the trade corridor.

Kross looked to Athir and said, "I'm counting on you to hold them off until I can make the jump."

@Ravendark

 

[Hol Horse]

Silence... Did he stutter?

Athir looked out the window at the vast emptiness of space, the only sights in his gaze consisting of a few stars, a purple miasma fluttering through the system, and the odd star here and there out in the distance. After a few seconds of silence, and a few anxious heartbeats, the red skinned alien looked expectantly to the human, Damon. What part of 'punch it' did he not understand? The zabrak looked at his laughing face, then to the piss poor nav system that had the coordinates to the trade Kessel trade cooridor locked in. The sound of the older human laughing started to grow on his nerves a bit, hurting his pride, causing his blank face to eventually slip into a frown. "Come on, hit it- you're killing the moment here, I said 'punch it' for dramatic effect and everything, you're giving me metaphorical blue balls practically" the smuggler said, looking at the nav system and then back up to Damon who simply laughed and laughed at the foolish and niave zabrak's orders.

It was only as the human spoke that Athir's frown turned into a flustered look of mild embaressment. He was a creature that prided himself on planning things like this out and planning them well, to be so utterly wrong and miss such simple factors in this cargo run left him feeling in a rther sour mood. Still, he was no fool... Okay, well, maybe a bit of a fool from time to time, but he was no idiot- he saw the logic in Damon's arguments and knew that his way would be the safer and smarter one. The sound of the radar pinging something behind them as they drifted away from Kessel 1 snapped the zabrak's attention back to the present though. Something in his gut told him it had to undoubtedly be one of the smugglers who they had just escaped, though which one, he couldn't tell. Athir pulled off his co-pilot's headset and placed it on the ground at his feet.

Damon didn't need to speak again as Athir lept out of the ship's cockpit and down into the massive cargo hold of the freighter. He had barely glanced around in the spacious near-half-a-mile-long freighter and the infinite sea of spice that was being held in the massive bay beneath them. Athir hustled along one of the suspended walkways over the cargo area and looked around frantically, as he knew they would be set upon at any moment. This ship was pitifully slow, not to mention the fact that a Bantha could probably turn faster than it with its non-existent maneuverability. Still, there had to be something, some kind of gun or turret that was installed to fend off pirates or the like for long cargo hauls along the hyperlanes, right? Athir ran as fast as he could along the metal walkways, the sand-like spice piled below him like a sea. He ran, and ran, and ran, through nearly all corners of the massive freighter, looking around frantically for anything- anything at all that he could use to fend off their attackers.

Finally, it dawned on him: this ship had no weapons or defenses to speak of. Nibezza was sending them on a rat run with nothing to keep them safe but their skin and the clothes on their backs.

The red man's face suddenly grew redder as it became flushed with anger and frustration, his black full-body tattoos seemed to move along his skin as he ran in and out of the flickering and poor lighting. He had run as fast as his feet could carry him, even after he had finished the cigarette Damon had given him, and hadn't found a single damned weapon built into this freighter. With nothing to show for his efforts, the zabrak sprinted back to the cockpit, out of breath and sweating. He fumbled as he put his headset back on, "Well, that was me fending them off for you" he said sarcastically as he buckled up on the large seatbelt for what was undoubtedly going to be a bumpy ride. "There's nothing, not a blaster, not a cannon, not a single damn thing. We outrun them or we die" Athir stated as he checked the radar once again.

@Zay

 

[Zay]

"There's nothing, not a blaster, not a cannon, not a single damn thing. We outrun them or we die"

The revelation ripped a curse from Damon's lips. They had no choice now it was either lose their pursuers in the asteroid field or get rundown and ransacked. The smuggler's fingers drummed a crescendo on the controls as he wracked his brain to find a solution for their situation. On the edges of his conscious he could feel the beginning of a plan forming, but he had a feeling his companion might not like it. He adjusted their trajectory toward the nearby asteroid field and then brought up the ships com systems and hailed the ship that was rapidly closing in on them.

He stood from the captain's chair, set a timer on his wrist chrono, and transferred the com signal to the holoprojector in the center of the room. Looking to Athir he said, "Follow my lead. I'm going to try and avoid a fight, but I doubt that'll be an option." Damon stood casually puffing on his cigarra as he awaited the answer to his call. A moment passed and Damon began to think their pursuers might transition into their attackers without so much as a word. It was at that moment that the holoprojector came to life and a blue translucent image of a Weequay appeared.

"Ready to give up all ready? I'm a little disappointed. I'd at least have the name of the fool who thought he run from the great Carr Rook!" Damon took a drag from his cigarra and then dropped the tiny cylinder and put it out. He eye'd the Weequay for a moment allowed the other's impatience to mount and then looked to Athir and shrugged.

"Can you believe this idiot? He actually thinks we're running." Damon threw his head back and let out a hearty guffaw. He hoped Athir followed his lead.

Damon stabbed an indignant finger at the hologram and said, "I'm Merek Kalas, I'm sure you've heard of me. Wish I could say the same of you..." he allowed his tone to turn derisive almost disgusted. The expression on the Weequay's face could have made a sarlacc smile. The raw disbelief and confusion on his leathery face spoke volumes to the beings intellect.

Damon crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his nose in the air, "If you really think you can take this ship from Merek the Magnificent, I'd love to see you try." As he offered his challenge he could feel his chrono vibrate.

Clapping his gaping maw closed Carr screamed into the holoprojector, "I WILL RELISH FLAYING THE SKIN FROM YOUR BODY YOU HAIRLESS APE!" Damon laughed.

As he did Carr was visibly thrown to the side. Chaos seemed to erupt all around the Weequay as he scrambled to control his men. Looking back to Damon he said, "I will kill you Merek Kalas. Mark my wo―" he never got to finish as the com transmission was terminated. Damon quickly rushed to the main console and killed the throttle while forcing the ship into a turn that was far to sharp for the over sized freighter.

Suddenly, something slammed into the side of the ship, but it wasn't hard enough to do anything more than knock around the beings inside. With the ship now facing due south, Damon threw the throttle forward and the ship shot forward. The hyperdrive was ready. All they had to do was get out of this asteroid field without taking significant damage. Another bolder slammed into the massive freighter. This one damaged one of the thruster engines, but the hyperdrive was still intact. The sonar started wailing with warning as more asteroids passed dangerously close to cockpit and other vital areas of the ship.

"Vent carberator 27!" he barked at Athir with a little more heat than intended. The ship was surprisingly resilient, but it's sheer size seemed to attract all of the asteroids.

Suddenly, they were out! The sonar wail silenced and with a shit eating grin, Damon looked to Athir and yelled, "Now, would be a good time to say punch it!" he'd allow the young man the honor and then engaged the hyperdrive. The starscape before them stretched into star lines and then morphed into the mottled blues of hypserspace. Their journey was finally underway.

@Ravendark