Star Wars: Kestryl
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Umm... I hate to sound impatient (really, I do) but when is this guy suppose to post his sheet?PrinceOfShapeir said:
Sorry my sheet took so long, but the holidays have a bad habit of filling one's schedule. Anyway, here's my sheet.
Name: Mar'krith (the rest of the crew has taken to nicknaming her Mara).
Age: 23.
Species: Twi'lek.
Gender: Female.
Appearance: Mara is a little undersized at 143 cm, and this reflects in her other measurements as well: she's an A-cup and weighs about 42 kilograms. Her skin is the yellow of a lemon and the tentacles on the back of her head reach down to her kneesockets. Her eyes are almost as yellow as her skin, her fingers are long and spidery and while she has very little fat, she also has pretty much zero muscle either. She would be pretty skinny and stick-figure-y, but her short physique kinda diminishes and evens out those qualities.
Mara usually wears a blue jumpsuit done up to her waist and fastened with a tight belt, along with a tight, black tank-top. She has a dark green band wrapped around her right (our left) head-tentacle, and a little silver earring in her left earlobe. She tends to wear thin black gloves, and when she doesn't wear them they tend to be stuck in one of the many, many pockets of her jumpsuit's pants. Her long, slender feet are usually encased in old, brown sandals, with no socks, because socks are for chumps.
Personality: It's not fair to call Mara lazy. It is fair to call her laid-back and then some. While she understands the importance of her work on the ship (them engines don't keep themselves running), she rarely if ever takes matters genuinely seriously, much preferring to fly by the seat of her pants to any kind of careful forethought. She's very quick on her feet, but also easily taken by surprise.
In social contexts, Mara is a great listener because she never takes offense or cares about awkwardness, and she is in overall very fun-loving. Her lack of serious investment, however, means any advice or response she gives should be taken with a grain of salt. She's paying attention, she gets the point and she likes to help, but she won't give everything as much thought as she probably should. Pretty much the only person who can demand some legit investment from her is captain Shana, though even she kinda has to work for it.
Mara has been known to indulge in the occasional soft drug, but only when the occasion allows for it. She does not have a stash on the ship.
Skills: Mara is a pro-tier starship mechanic. She has actually been professionally trained and served on several large commercial vessels. The Kestryl does not quite have the professional tools or supporting personnel of those ships, but Mara is still more than capable of keeping the ship running all by her lonesome. Her knowledge and expertise include circuitry, hydraulics, advanced chemistry and physics, basic software coding, and good ol' electrical and mechanical engineering.
Aside from that, though, Mara doesn't have much in terms of marketable skills. The most that can otherwise be said about her is that she's pleasant to be around.
Possessions: Mara's jumpsuit is teeming with pockets, and usually you can bet good money most of them are full. A basic scanner that she can plug into the ships computer drives for a quick diagnostic; various kinds of small screwdrivers and keys for unlocking panels; half-eaten snacks of varying degrees of decomposition. Aside from that, she has a rolled-up toolbelt tied to the back of her regular belt, and a blowtorch and soldering iron hanging on either side like revolvers in holsters.
Mara does not carry any real weapons. She's found that hitting people in the eye with a soldering iron is more than enough.
Age: 23.
Species: Twi'lek.
Gender: Female.
Appearance: Mara is a little undersized at 143 cm, and this reflects in her other measurements as well: she's an A-cup and weighs about 42 kilograms. Her skin is the yellow of a lemon and the tentacles on the back of her head reach down to her kneesockets. Her eyes are almost as yellow as her skin, her fingers are long and spidery and while she has very little fat, she also has pretty much zero muscle either. She would be pretty skinny and stick-figure-y, but her short physique kinda diminishes and evens out those qualities.
Mara usually wears a blue jumpsuit done up to her waist and fastened with a tight belt, along with a tight, black tank-top. She has a dark green band wrapped around her right (our left) head-tentacle, and a little silver earring in her left earlobe. She tends to wear thin black gloves, and when she doesn't wear them they tend to be stuck in one of the many, many pockets of her jumpsuit's pants. Her long, slender feet are usually encased in old, brown sandals, with no socks, because socks are for chumps.
Personality: It's not fair to call Mara lazy. It is fair to call her laid-back and then some. While she understands the importance of her work on the ship (them engines don't keep themselves running), she rarely if ever takes matters genuinely seriously, much preferring to fly by the seat of her pants to any kind of careful forethought. She's very quick on her feet, but also easily taken by surprise.
In social contexts, Mara is a great listener because she never takes offense or cares about awkwardness, and she is in overall very fun-loving. Her lack of serious investment, however, means any advice or response she gives should be taken with a grain of salt. She's paying attention, she gets the point and she likes to help, but she won't give everything as much thought as she probably should. Pretty much the only person who can demand some legit investment from her is captain Shana, though even she kinda has to work for it.
Mara has been known to indulge in the occasional soft drug, but only when the occasion allows for it. She does not have a stash on the ship.
Skills: Mara is a pro-tier starship mechanic. She has actually been professionally trained and served on several large commercial vessels. The Kestryl does not quite have the professional tools or supporting personnel of those ships, but Mara is still more than capable of keeping the ship running all by her lonesome. Her knowledge and expertise include circuitry, hydraulics, advanced chemistry and physics, basic software coding, and good ol' electrical and mechanical engineering.
Aside from that, though, Mara doesn't have much in terms of marketable skills. The most that can otherwise be said about her is that she's pleasant to be around.
Possessions: Mara's jumpsuit is teeming with pockets, and usually you can bet good money most of them are full. A basic scanner that she can plug into the ships computer drives for a quick diagnostic; various kinds of small screwdrivers and keys for unlocking panels; half-eaten snacks of varying degrees of decomposition. Aside from that, she has a rolled-up toolbelt tied to the back of her regular belt, and a blowtorch and soldering iron hanging on either side like revolvers in holsters.
Mara does not carry any real weapons. She's found that hitting people in the eye with a soldering iron is more than enough.
Throughout most of the clone wars Mara managed to stay relatively neutral in the conflict, taking on contracts with various merchant vessels. These were shrinking in number, though, as the war diminished the supplies of both goods to sell and money to buy them with. She would probably have ended up unemployed, if the Republic hadn't conscripted her. For a full 2 years she found herself working in what amounted to little more than glorified slavery, patching together the remains of ships that made it back from the front lines.
It was hell. 18 hour days of pulling leaky reactors out of giant hulks of molten steel, being yelled at by increasingly unpleasant-looking clone troopers, all the while losing a pound a day in sweat. And those were the good days. Bad days involved people trying to run, and getting shot. Bad days involved fires, and the Republic caring more about securing material than saving lives. Bad days involved guards handing out beatdowns.
And then, one day, the war ended. Well, it wasn't quite one day. It was more, like, a month. Ships stopped coming in, the troopers became marginally more pleasant, and finally she actually got the word: the war was over. They still wouldn't actually release her from service but holy shit! she had time off! And was allowed to leave the docks! And could live somewhere other than a 5 by 4 bunk!
But as she settled in for a good strong drink at her favourite bar, news slowly started leaking in her ears: news of how exactly the Republic had won the war, and what they did with the people they 'pacified'. She got another drink after that. And then another.
It was right around then that she realized she couldn't ever go back to working for those people. She hadn't been particularly keen on the idea from the start given their idea of proper employee treatment, but this pretty thoroughly sealed the deal. Thing was, though, she was technically still enrolled in their armed forces, and she would bet her mother's left ovary they weren't just going to let her leave. She needed to find a ship headed off-world. Fast.
Heading over to the civilian docks for the first time in years, she went through the prospective candidates: smugglers, raiders, pimps, more pimps, cannibals, pimps again. But then she came across a large and, let's be honest, pretty ugly ship calling itself the Kestryl. She could see one person on board, messing around with the insides of a panel and throwing out a stream of curses that would have made a Rancor blush.
"Can I get a ride on this ship, wherever it's headed?" she asked.
"Nobody's getting on this damn boat until I can fix this fucking piece of crap." said a brown Twi'lek, popping out of the panel and holding a blowtorch.
"Lemme get that for ya."
And she did. And she's been working as the ship's mechanic ever since. Mara has grown quite fond of the ship, and she has great respect for Shana. She gets along fine with the rest of the crew, but spends most of her time in the engine-room keeping the Kestryl from falling apart. She's happy now, if only because she can stick it to the man. And at the moment that's plenty good enough.
It was hell. 18 hour days of pulling leaky reactors out of giant hulks of molten steel, being yelled at by increasingly unpleasant-looking clone troopers, all the while losing a pound a day in sweat. And those were the good days. Bad days involved people trying to run, and getting shot. Bad days involved fires, and the Republic caring more about securing material than saving lives. Bad days involved guards handing out beatdowns.
And then, one day, the war ended. Well, it wasn't quite one day. It was more, like, a month. Ships stopped coming in, the troopers became marginally more pleasant, and finally she actually got the word: the war was over. They still wouldn't actually release her from service but holy shit! she had time off! And was allowed to leave the docks! And could live somewhere other than a 5 by 4 bunk!
But as she settled in for a good strong drink at her favourite bar, news slowly started leaking in her ears: news of how exactly the Republic had won the war, and what they did with the people they 'pacified'. She got another drink after that. And then another.
It was right around then that she realized she couldn't ever go back to working for those people. She hadn't been particularly keen on the idea from the start given their idea of proper employee treatment, but this pretty thoroughly sealed the deal. Thing was, though, she was technically still enrolled in their armed forces, and she would bet her mother's left ovary they weren't just going to let her leave. She needed to find a ship headed off-world. Fast.
Heading over to the civilian docks for the first time in years, she went through the prospective candidates: smugglers, raiders, pimps, more pimps, cannibals, pimps again. But then she came across a large and, let's be honest, pretty ugly ship calling itself the Kestryl. She could see one person on board, messing around with the insides of a panel and throwing out a stream of curses that would have made a Rancor blush.
"Can I get a ride on this ship, wherever it's headed?" she asked.
"Nobody's getting on this damn boat until I can fix this fucking piece of crap." said a brown Twi'lek, popping out of the panel and holding a blowtorch.
"Lemme get that for ya."
And she did. And she's been working as the ship's mechanic ever since. Mara has grown quite fond of the ship, and she has great respect for Shana. She gets along fine with the rest of the crew, but spends most of her time in the engine-room keeping the Kestryl from falling apart. She's happy now, if only because she can stick it to the man. And at the moment that's plenty good enough.
"I say again, this is Sergeant Kovane, 93rd, we need air support now! Republic troops are overrunning our position!" She bellowed it into the comlink, then popped over the trench, squeezing the trigger of her rifle and spraying blaster bolts at the white-armored death squads across the open field, ducking back down as a torrent of blue fire came back at her.
"Sergeant." A deep, gravelly voice came through the comlink.
"Captain, the frak is going on? Where are those battle droids I asked for, we can't hold this position!"
"We're under orders from High Command. You're to lay down arms and surrender. The war is over."
The comlink slid out of her hands as she looked up, white-armored soldiers aiming blasters at her face. The blaster slid out of her hands and she slowly raised them, watching the last few resistors die in the corners of her eyes.
"Take them into custody."
Shana's eyes snapped open, staring at the top of her coffin-rack. Jabiim again. She pulled out her chronometer and glanced at it - the middle of ship's night. Out the viewport, she could see the mottled blue-white of hyperspace as they sped towards their destination. Shana pulled herself out of her rack, groaning - getting up didn't come easily to her anymore - and dressed, sliding her blaster onto her hip before stepping out of her small cabin and heading towards the cockpit, currently empty. She dropped into the pilot's chair and began checking over the readings. A little over half an hour to arrival. She'd awoken only shortly before her alarm would have done so.
She leaned back in the chair and sighed. If this panned out, they'd have enough credits that they could take it easy for a while.
Unfortunately, hidden inside their secret compartments was a thousand blasters of various make and model. Gun running never went very smooth.
But then again, nothing -ever- went smooth for her or Kestryl.
"Sergeant." A deep, gravelly voice came through the comlink.
"Captain, the frak is going on? Where are those battle droids I asked for, we can't hold this position!"
"We're under orders from High Command. You're to lay down arms and surrender. The war is over."
The comlink slid out of her hands as she looked up, white-armored soldiers aiming blasters at her face. The blaster slid out of her hands and she slowly raised them, watching the last few resistors die in the corners of her eyes.
"Take them into custody."
Shana's eyes snapped open, staring at the top of her coffin-rack. Jabiim again. She pulled out her chronometer and glanced at it - the middle of ship's night. Out the viewport, she could see the mottled blue-white of hyperspace as they sped towards their destination. Shana pulled herself out of her rack, groaning - getting up didn't come easily to her anymore - and dressed, sliding her blaster onto her hip before stepping out of her small cabin and heading towards the cockpit, currently empty. She dropped into the pilot's chair and began checking over the readings. A little over half an hour to arrival. She'd awoken only shortly before her alarm would have done so.
She leaned back in the chair and sighed. If this panned out, they'd have enough credits that they could take it easy for a while.
Unfortunately, hidden inside their secret compartments was a thousand blasters of various make and model. Gun running never went very smooth.
But then again, nothing -ever- went smooth for her or Kestryl.
Coffee wafted through the Kestryl's galley as Kao rummaged around in one of the cupboards. "Ah, there it is." He muttered to himself, extracting a thermos. He poured a mug for himself, before pouring the rest into the thermos and heading towards the bridge, coffee and thermos in hand. Technically he was 'on duty' right now and shouldn't have left the bridge, as a little voice in the back of his mind was quick to tell him every time he did so, but this wasn't the ExplorCorps and the rules where much laxer out here.
Sliding through the doors and on to the bridge, he wasn't surprised to see Shana. He'd been working for her long enough now to know her habits, especially when they were on a high risk job like now. "Mornin' Cap'n." He said as he dropped into the co-pilots seat. "Coffee?" Setting the thermos between them, he took a sip from his own mug as he scanned the instruments, all good, just like when he'd left. Yawning, he ran his fingers through his horns, scratching his scalp.
Sliding through the doors and on to the bridge, he wasn't surprised to see Shana. He'd been working for her long enough now to know her habits, especially when they were on a high risk job like now. "Mornin' Cap'n." He said as he dropped into the co-pilots seat. "Coffee?" Setting the thermos between them, he took a sip from his own mug as he scanned the instruments, all good, just like when he'd left. Yawning, he ran his fingers through his horns, scratching his scalp.
Ian Galam awoke to the beeping of his alarm. As he reluctantly opened his eyes, he vaguely wondered what it was like to sleep in. He dressed quickly and strapped his holster his waist. Still feeling a bit groggy, Ian decided to forgo his black leather jacket for now and exited his room. After a brief trip to the lavatory, Ian headed to the machine shop were he kept his bike. The sight of the BARC speeder, newly coat of black spray paint, made him feel at home. He fiddled with the engine and checked the turbo lasers, more out of habit than anything else. Content with the state of the bike. Ian thought he'd head to the cockpit to see who else was up.
"Howdy, Captain." Ian said as he entered the cockpit, then took a bit of the snack bar he had picked up on the way. "Mornin' Kao." He took a seat at the weapons station and stared at the blur of hyperspace for a moment. The sight of thousands of streaking stars always amazed him, perhaps because he hadn't grown up with it like the others. "So where did you say we're going again?" Ian said, still staring off into space.
"Howdy, Captain." Ian said as he entered the cockpit, then took a bit of the snack bar he had picked up on the way. "Mornin' Kao." He took a seat at the weapons station and stared at the blur of hyperspace for a moment. The sight of thousands of streaking stars always amazed him, perhaps because he hadn't grown up with it like the others. "So where did you say we're going again?" Ian said, still staring off into space.
Hinek Sen'elas sat in the common room where he could see the others walk by through the half open door. As Shana passed he couldn't help but notice the slight difference in her stride; she was a little early too. Hinek wondered for a moment if she hadn't slept well then immediately chastised himself; that kind of thing was impolite and unnecessary.
Releasing a tiny sigh Hinek went back to his story and crossed his legs. He gave a slight smirk as he read the next big twist; theoretically clever, but far to impractical for an actual operation. Hinek then interrupted himself, even if the captain was early it was still probably time for his 'daily' workout. Switching off the reader Hineck got up and began making his way out to the corridor.
Releasing a tiny sigh Hinek went back to his story and crossed his legs. He gave a slight smirk as he read the next big twist; theoretically clever, but far to impractical for an actual operation. Hinek then interrupted himself, even if the captain was early it was still probably time for his 'daily' workout. Switching off the reader Hineck got up and began making his way out to the corridor.
"Morning, Kao." She nodded to him and the coffee. "Thanks." She took the lid of the thermos and flipped it over, then filled it with caf. A half-second later, Ian walked into the cockpit, looking like he had just rolled out of bed - not that she looked any better.
"I'm not going to try to pronounce it, Ian." She pulled out a datapad and handed it to him, the image showing a world that looked to be dominantly grey and brown with vast cloud cover, over the image of it written K'pryxm'mree. "Locals don't mind spacers calling it Mree. Don't call it Pryx, they tend to get a little annoyed about that." She called up the data on the shipboard console. "Alright, exit from hyperspace might get a little hairy. There's an old XQ4 Platform in orbit. That'll be where any interceptors come from if they launch them. But as long as we can make atmosphere we can outrun them, I doubt they're using anything better than Starchasers."
She stood up out of the pilot chair. "Kao, you should be doing the flying when we leave hype. If we get frakked, I'll be on dorsal guns. Ian, you've got forward firepower and shields covered?"
"I'm not going to try to pronounce it, Ian." She pulled out a datapad and handed it to him, the image showing a world that looked to be dominantly grey and brown with vast cloud cover, over the image of it written K'pryxm'mree. "Locals don't mind spacers calling it Mree. Don't call it Pryx, they tend to get a little annoyed about that." She called up the data on the shipboard console. "Alright, exit from hyperspace might get a little hairy. There's an old XQ4 Platform in orbit. That'll be where any interceptors come from if they launch them. But as long as we can make atmosphere we can outrun them, I doubt they're using anything better than Starchasers."
She stood up out of the pilot chair. "Kao, you should be doing the flying when we leave hype. If we get frakked, I'll be on dorsal guns. Ian, you've got forward firepower and shields covered?"
"On it boss." Kao replied laconically, starting his pre-deceleration checks. "If anybody gets twitchy on us, he ain't gonna hit nothin' but void." Rolling his head over, he winked at Shana and smiled.
Despite his rather laid back manner, his mind was racing. Bringing up information about the star system on a secondary display, he mentally mapped a half-dozen different escape and evasion manoeuvres. These Barloz weren't what you?d call manoeuvrable, but he?d learned to make bigger ships dance.
Despite his rather laid back manner, his mind was racing. Bringing up information about the star system on a secondary display, he mentally mapped a half-dozen different escape and evasion manoeuvres. These Barloz weren't what you?d call manoeuvrable, but he?d learned to make bigger ships dance.
"Ya, sure thing." Ian said. It seemed he was always on guns, not to say that bothered him though. In fact, he suspected that he was the best shot on board. Not that he'd ever say that out loud, of course. "If they open up on us, it'll be the last thing they do." he added with a smile.
He turned his attention to the display in front of him and started warming up the main turbo lasers and shield generator. Since he began freelancing, he'd found that shooting from a terminal wasn't all that different from doing so atop his speeder. The only real difference was that it was much easier to feel more detached from the battle, but he'd found that that could be remedied with the right mind set. With the defense systems readying themselves, Ian swiveled his chair to face Kao. "So, you know anything about this planet we're going to?" he asked the pilot. "I'm afraid I've never heard of-" he squinted at the datapad. "Ka prix mry."
He turned his attention to the display in front of him and started warming up the main turbo lasers and shield generator. Since he began freelancing, he'd found that shooting from a terminal wasn't all that different from doing so atop his speeder. The only real difference was that it was much easier to feel more detached from the battle, but he'd found that that could be remedied with the right mind set. With the defense systems readying themselves, Ian swiveled his chair to face Kao. "So, you know anything about this planet we're going to?" he asked the pilot. "I'm afraid I've never heard of-" he squinted at the datapad. "Ka prix mry."
"Hold fire unless absolutely necessary, and go for disabling shots if you can. Let's keep off the grid as much as possible, I'd prefer to avoid a bounty on our heads." She stepped to lean against the cockpit door frame. "As for Mree, it's a mess." She shook her head. "Was a contested world during the Clone Wars. Planet more or less broke into two factions, one Republic, one Separatist. Grand and Droid armies both pretty much didn't touch it, so they fought it out amongst themselves for the war."
Shana shivered. "Four years of trench warfare and terrorist attacks by both sides. In the end, the Separatists got dealt with when the Empire dispatched a Star Destroyer to bombard their holdings - full power turbolaser strikes on Separatist-controlled cities from orbit."
Anyone who'd lived through the Clone Wars knew what that meant - turbolaser strikes released exojoules of energy. One well placed shot could turn land for kilometers in every direction into nothing but debris and fire. An Imperial-Class Star Destroyer could turn the crust of a planet into slag and blast holes into the mantle of a planet, rendering it a lifeless rock with only a few short hours of bombardment.
"Then the Empire left. They haven't really touched the planet since then. Left a garrison and a governor, but not much else. Now some Sep survivors want to resurface, continue the fight." She shook her head. "They're idiots. But they're paying."
Shana shivered. "Four years of trench warfare and terrorist attacks by both sides. In the end, the Separatists got dealt with when the Empire dispatched a Star Destroyer to bombard their holdings - full power turbolaser strikes on Separatist-controlled cities from orbit."
Anyone who'd lived through the Clone Wars knew what that meant - turbolaser strikes released exojoules of energy. One well placed shot could turn land for kilometers in every direction into nothing but debris and fire. An Imperial-Class Star Destroyer could turn the crust of a planet into slag and blast holes into the mantle of a planet, rendering it a lifeless rock with only a few short hours of bombardment.
"Then the Empire left. They haven't really touched the planet since then. Left a garrison and a governor, but not much else. Now some Sep survivors want to resurface, continue the fight." She shook her head. "They're idiots. But they're paying."
There is comfort in rhythm, in the familiarity of repetition. This was one of many reasons why Mara could often be found sleeping in the engine room rather than her actual bunk. Other reasons included being close by in case something went wrong, and the fact that the engine room was, on average, probably cleaner.
Amidst the hum of the engine, the creaks of the gears, the whispering slush of the hydraulics and the faint snoring, an annoying beeping came up. Mara's alarm-clock was very good at its job, and she hated it for it. Hated it with an intensity she rarely showed otherwise. She planted a surprisingly well-aimed kick at the blasted thing and it flew across the room, but even after it came down it didn't stop its incessant beeping.
A string of half-muttered, barely intelligible curses escaped Mara's mouth as she reluctantly got up, stretched, and picked the damn thing off the ground. She turned it off with a very satisfying *Click!*
As she yawned and tucked her left tail behind her head, she checked up on the engine: running smooth, could be smoother. Same as usual.
Retying the knot in her jumpsuit, she strolled into the common room and rummaged around until she found a half-empty can of protein that claimed to taste like a four-course meal rolled into one dish. To Mara's great surprise, it did. Though of course nobody ever said throwing a four-course meal into a blender was a good idea.
Can in hand with a spoon stuck in, the still-drowsy Twi'lek made her way to the cockpit.
"Hey boss." she waved, as she saw Shana standing in the doorway, "How're we doing?"
Standing next to Shana, Mara could now also see Ian and Kao. "Morning fellas. Sleep well?"
Amidst the hum of the engine, the creaks of the gears, the whispering slush of the hydraulics and the faint snoring, an annoying beeping came up. Mara's alarm-clock was very good at its job, and she hated it for it. Hated it with an intensity she rarely showed otherwise. She planted a surprisingly well-aimed kick at the blasted thing and it flew across the room, but even after it came down it didn't stop its incessant beeping.
A string of half-muttered, barely intelligible curses escaped Mara's mouth as she reluctantly got up, stretched, and picked the damn thing off the ground. She turned it off with a very satisfying *Click!*
As she yawned and tucked her left tail behind her head, she checked up on the engine: running smooth, could be smoother. Same as usual.
Retying the knot in her jumpsuit, she strolled into the common room and rummaged around until she found a half-empty can of protein that claimed to taste like a four-course meal rolled into one dish. To Mara's great surprise, it did. Though of course nobody ever said throwing a four-course meal into a blender was a good idea.
Can in hand with a spoon stuck in, the still-drowsy Twi'lek made her way to the cockpit.
"Hey boss." she waved, as she saw Shana standing in the doorway, "How're we doing?"
Standing next to Shana, Mara could now also see Ian and Kao. "Morning fellas. Sleep well?"
Hinek had paused in the corridor when he had heard the others chatting. He rarely had much to add to the conversation, but he still found it was often best to lend an ear at least. Hinek didn't pay too much attention as the others discussed the trip planetward, the most Hinek had ever done in a starship was fire the guns a few times; and less to actually hit anything then to just keep the enemy weary.
Hinek gave a quick greeting nod to Mara as she joined the others. As he did so the conversation shifted to a different subject; one that pricked up Hinek's ears a touch; the specifics of the job. Hinek didn't know about the entirety of the captain's history, but he had found out enough for a warning light to go off in his head. The fact that the shipment of weapons in the hold were headed to some anti-empire group on a rim-dump planet was a bit to convenient for coincidence.
Out in the corridor Ian and Kao couldn't see Hinek, and Mara had her back turned when Hinek crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the captain. His mildly accusatory stare directed at the captain clearly said everything his words didn't. Was this going to be personal?
Hinek gave a quick greeting nod to Mara as she joined the others. As he did so the conversation shifted to a different subject; one that pricked up Hinek's ears a touch; the specifics of the job. Hinek didn't know about the entirety of the captain's history, but he had found out enough for a warning light to go off in his head. The fact that the shipment of weapons in the hold were headed to some anti-empire group on a rim-dump planet was a bit to convenient for coincidence.
Out in the corridor Ian and Kao couldn't see Hinek, and Mara had her back turned when Hinek crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the captain. His mildly accusatory stare directed at the captain clearly said everything his words didn't. Was this going to be personal?
"If you have something to say, Hinek, just come out and say it." She turned to give him a look of her own, glaring back at him. "It's way too early for the passive aggressive shit." She rubbed her eyes. Everyone made the job about something. It wasn't about anything, it was about money. Spitting in the Empire's eye was just a bonus where she was standing.
"Morning fellas. Sleep well?"
Kao smiled as he kept going over his checks. "Sleep? Who do think was keepin' an eye on things while you were gettingyour beauty rest?" After doing a few minor adjustments he went on. "An' don?t give me any of that 'the navcomp can handle the ship while in hyperspace' bull. You show me a pilot who's happy to trust it all to a computer, and I'll show you somebody who's just cargo."
Still facing towards the multitude of stars streaming past he took another sip of coffee, closed his eyes, and let himself relax. Just because he was out of the Corps, and that if he was found out as a Force sensitive he was a dead man, he saw no reason not to keep up with the meditations he?d been taught. Reaching out with the Force he could feel the presence of the others on the bridge...as well as another now just outside.
Concentrating on the new individual he quickly recognized them. It'll drive him nuts while he tries to figure out how I realized he was there. Eyes still closed he chuckled quietly.
"If you have something to say, Hinek, just come out and say it. It's way too early for the passive aggressive shit."
Damn! The Capitan just had to spoil my fun....oh well.
Kao smiled as he kept going over his checks. "Sleep? Who do think was keepin' an eye on things while you were gettingyour beauty rest?" After doing a few minor adjustments he went on. "An' don?t give me any of that 'the navcomp can handle the ship while in hyperspace' bull. You show me a pilot who's happy to trust it all to a computer, and I'll show you somebody who's just cargo."
Still facing towards the multitude of stars streaming past he took another sip of coffee, closed his eyes, and let himself relax. Just because he was out of the Corps, and that if he was found out as a Force sensitive he was a dead man, he saw no reason not to keep up with the meditations he?d been taught. Reaching out with the Force he could feel the presence of the others on the bridge...as well as another now just outside.
Concentrating on the new individual he quickly recognized them. It'll drive him nuts while he tries to figure out how I realized he was there. Eyes still closed he chuckled quietly.
"If you have something to say, Hinek, just come out and say it. It's way too early for the passive aggressive shit."
Damn! The Capitan just had to spoil my fun....oh well.