Star Wars: Omerta

"It would make me feel better at the least."

"I don't cater to the insecure."

Relian peaks his head of the door of the cargo bay, frowning. He steps out into the hall way, brushing off his blue knit duster and adjusting it to sit right on his shoulders.

"....All clear?" He calls out to the ship, one hand hovering over his blaster. Just in case.

Mys looked to the hatch and shouted down. "All Clear. Get yourself strapped in, Asteroid Field incomming."

Myrissa looked up from what she was doing in the medical wing and rushed into the kitchen and clutched a cabinet for support.

"No can do," Drew replied to the droid. "There's too much of it for you to keep it all in, and if we lose our cargo, our pissed-off customers will put a bounty on our heads so large we can't even go near a civilized system." He kept welding up the airlock.

edited 24th Sep '13 2:32:37 PM by nman

The Erewhon Noir glides toward the asteroid belt. The gunship looks reluctant to pursue, instead tracking a course along the outside. The belt is a relatively loose-packed sphere of rocks, easily far enough to easily skirt around. The larger problem is the fine cloud of dust from broken asteroids that form pockets inside the belt. Nearly invisible on the scanners, and easily enough to puncture an unlucky ship's hull if it impacts in the wrong place.

Outside the belt, they can see the Gunship tracking them, trying to get a clear shot-it's persistent, at least. Unusually so.

The ship bucks and jumps as it impacts the first, minor cloud of debris. Relian and Myrissa are send staggering. In the hold, a crate detaches from it's moorings, sliding toward Drewbacca and CH 3-RN 0.

edited 1st Oct '13 4:45:20 PM by DrTentacles

CH3-RN0 turns his oversized head towards the sliding crate and stomps toward it, refusing to allow it to pick up too much speed. Spreading his arms wide the damaged droid attempts to halt the cargo's movement.

"This was a bad idea." Mys said, glaring at the console showing her the trailing gunship.

Relian grimaces and grabs hold of a wall for support, calling out over his com. "How are we doing?" He lets out, reaching out a hand to steady the medic. "Did we blow up again?"

"Thanks!" Drew called out as he kept frantically welding the airlock.

Myrissa stumbles around for a bit before managing to snag another cabinet's handle.

"It was that or a mad dash towards the port. Just sit tight."

They can't fire on us from here, Tiberius thought. No need for haste. Instead, he slowed down, trying to avoid as much of the debris as possible, getting ready for a full acceleration once they actually got out of the asteroid field.

The Gunship flies back and forth, frustrated, looking for an opening through the debris. It can't quite get a clear shot, though-they've put a fair bit of distance between them, and it seems unwilling to go into the belt. A flash of red light comes from it's ventral turret, quad lasers lancing into one of the larger asteroids near the Noir, showering them with rock fragments. Not nearly enough to damage the armor, however.

Inside the field, the Noir shakes again, the deceleration saving the ship from the worst of the damage. Lighters flicker, the ship's life-support straining to keep up with the hull breaches. There's a moment of silence as they drift into the belt, clouds of escaped air forming a trail behind them, grinding shudders marking more impacts. Then, the navcomputer pings. More dots appear on the radar-a squadron of Sith War Era fighters, so called "uglies" cobbled together from several different ships. The gunship appears to have noticed them as well. They can see it break off, heading away from Port Chiaroscuro.

The hissing stops as Drewbacca finishes the welding job. The doors aren't pretty, and they aren't going to open anytime soon, but they're sealed-enough to slow the leak to manageable levels. The hold goes quiet, any flames extinguished.

In the cockpit, there's another ping, the squadron of uglies having hailed them. The voice is staticky because of interference from the asteroid belt, but they can hear another voice speaking in Huttese-intonations suggesting an non-human speaker.

"Chiaroscuro security hailing Erewhon Noir. Looks like you had a bit of trouble, Noir. Need an escort to the port?"

edited 9th Oct '13 12:59:54 PM by DrTentacles

Tiberius flipped pn internal communications.

"Dare we take this one? "

Drew let out a deep breath. "Close," he said, sighing.

"What one?" he added, hearing the comms. He started to make his way to the bridge.

"It's a squadron of uglies hailing us this time."

edited 6th Oct '13 11:01:34 PM by math792d

"Well, its not like we can do anything else." Mys shrugged.

"My favorite word combination. " He switched channels to communcate with the fighters.

"That would be much appreciated. "

The pirate gunship quickly makes it's way off the radar, outright running from the squadron of uglies, heading along the outer edge of the Radiate. Meanwhile, the customs squadron takes up a holding pattern on the outside of the belt, waiting for the Erewhon Noir to emerge. The voice comes back over the channel, more chatter in Huttese.

"You're either brave, stupid, or desperate to go into the Radiate without accurate charts. By the shape of your ship, I'm guessing the latter. Had a bit of trouble with pirates, did we? Sorry about that. Lucky for you we picked you up on our radar."

The fighter prove as good as their word, forming a protective shield around their ship on the short flight to Port 'scuro. The port comes into focus, a grey, irregular, asteroid the size of a small moon, cratered with ancient mines, the whole thing cast into a ruddy glow by the light of the dying sun. Mining vessels, and trading ships form a constant trail in and out of the mining passages, the lifeblood that keeps the entire system of Corban's Folly afloat. When they're within visual distance of the port, their escort breaks off, moving to resume their patrol of the system. The squadron leader's voice crackles on over channel.

"Word of warning to the wise, Noir. Most of the docking bays will gouge you mercilessly-if you're looking to dodge "tarrifs" I suggest the Gamma quarter. It's a bit on the shady side, but they won't steal your hyperdrive when you're at a Cantina."

The computer beeps as some docking maps upload, showing the bay he pointed out. It looks like it's fairly close to the shipping company where they're supposed to deliver their mystery package.

"Thats sounds cozy." Mys said, calmly ejecting the power pack of her blaster to replace it with a fresh one.

edited 9th Oct '13 1:19:26 PM by 3of4

"Thank you for the tip. And the escort too."

"Yeah... about that airlock...." Drew told the others in the cockpit. "But at least the cargo's still there."

Mys shrugged and flipped the intercom open. "Okay, we're about to land. You know the usual rules. No strangers onto the ship without the Captains say so and keep in pairs while you're out. Armed pairs."

Myrissa hears Mys over the intercom and responds with a "Gotcha.", before heading over to the medbay and organizing necessary medical supplies into a pouch and exiting the medbay.