RPlog:An Unexpected Journey

 This scene takes place on the NovaCom Landing Pad, primarily aboard the Nestt class freighter, Arachnea.

Cargo Hold-Living Quarters: Arachnea The ramp brings you up into the main cargo area at the fore of the ship. This area is divided into three sections. Two cargo pods are on either side of the boarding ramp, and are accessed through heavy blast doors that double as airlocks. The third cargo area joins the two forward pods, and is equipped with a large cargo lift and a heavy blast door to aft. There are clamps on the walls throughout the cargo area to hold cargo in place.

Through the aft blast door is a secondary cargo area that doubles as crew space. In this particular ship, the secondary cargo area has been modified and converted into more living space. Three doors on the port and starboard bulkheads lead to various cabins, while a fourth door on the port side leads to a mess, and a fourth door on the starboard side leads to the refresher. The central part of this area has been converted from cargo storage to a commons area, complete with entertainment holo-table, and computer terminal that can access various cargo and entertainment functions.

The lift that takes a sentient up to the observation room and cockpit is located in the forward part of this area, while engineering access is through a small door further aft, with an access panel to the upper deck where the engines can be accessed. Throughout both sections of this deck are ceiling hatches to various crawlspaces that access the technical areas of the ship.

 You see before you a human male, just slightly less than 6 feet tall. He is athletically built and his fluid movement hints at someone who has endured intense physical training, however, his body is not huge and rippling with muscles, but more wiry. His brown hair is slightly longer than regulation military length, and he brushes it back off of his forehead with his hand. His dark brown, almost black eyes scan the area, picking up various details of his surroundings.

This man is wearing a black long-coat that hangs down to below his knees, over a white turtleneck and black vest. The coat has deep pockets on the outside of it, while the vest also has several pockets and seems to be lightly armored. On his legs are black pants tucked into black spacer's boots. The boots are highly polished, and reflect the lighting in the area. On the right lapel of his coat is a small pin, about the size of a fingernail. If you look closely, you can see that the pin is a small carving of a dragon's head, open maw facing the viewer.

   The green Twi'lek stands tall for her species, even for a male, at just over a handspan shy of two meters. Likewise, her lekku are a bit longer than usual and taper to delicate points. But that's the only delicate thing about this muscular female dressed in synthleather. Her dark brown eyes are harsh, her expression almost perpetually dark, and her body posture a challenge to the galaxy. Full lips that could be sensual are instead compressed in a slight frown and delicate brows angle downward toward the bridge of her nose. She wears brown synthleather with long sleeves and tight pants that disappear seamlessly into matching boots. Her blaster pistol is work strapped to her left thigh where her fingers can brush it often. She keeps her nails pointed and when she does smile it's a feral expression with equally pointed teeth.

 	 A madman hired by Kora to aid in the capture of Adam Shadow and commandeering of the Arachnea.

	 A Tusken Raider taken off planet by Hutts, now hired by Kora to assist in the attempted piracy.

Groggily shaking his head as he comes-to slumped over the holo-table in the crew commons, Shadow winces as a piercing whistle shrills through the ship's comm system. Staggering over to the computer terminal bolted to the starboard bulkhead, he flips a switch to check the ship's position, while simultaniously saying "Yes, Clicker. I'm up. What do you..." his voice trails off as his fogged head clears enough for him to see that the ship is coming in-bound towards... Nar Shaddaa. "The Smuggler's Moon? What the?" Fuzz in the brain clears quickly now as he notes the time. "Clicker, what is going on here? We were course set for Caspar when I left the cockpit."

The beeps and clicks that come through the comm system are translated on one of the terminal's screens, and the Corellian reads through it. "You say we've got a what? A droid brain stowed aboard? Aaaaand it drugged me. Great. Well, where is it?" The binary that comes through the comm has a distinctly negative tone to it, and Shadow barely has to glance at the translation to understand what he's being told. "Well, keep searching for it. I'm going to try to figure out where the stupid thing is taking us." With that, the lean human sits down at the terminal and begins attempting to ferret out their destination.

The squat little ship crouches predatorily on the corner of the Novacom pad while company employees pretend it's not actually there. Someone has delineated the 'rented' space with some strategically placed shipping crates and a few repulsor carts and everyone's studiously avoiding the area. Kora grins out the viewport. "Dunno what they told 'em, but we seem to have all the privacy we want." She fiddles with the scanner controls again. "Sunscortch all the stupid air traffic on this wasted space rock... Aha! Looks like our guests are about to arrive." She stands up and turns, reaching for the battered ST-I onthe co-pilot's seat. "Remember, everyone aboard should bedown and out. The owner's mine, the rest need to be kept in saleable condition if at all possible 'cause any profit from them, we split. And that's a new ship, so try to not blast to much of it into slag." That feral grin is flashed, all sharp teeth and pink eyes. "Ready?"

"Ready." As if one needed to be ready when the ship's full of folks that've been gassed, and should be sleeping like babies. Not that Sid's taking any chances, of course. No, he's got a nice BMC carbine along for the ride, it and his sidearm are well charged. It took a lot of doing to hang onto the parts of his uniform he did, as much to recreate the parts he couldn't from ... other sources. No matter though, he's got an outfit that one would have to practically be in the BDM themselves to tell that it's not authenthic. The armored cuirass buckled over it has a few scores and marks where it's had to catch fire for him, still holding firm. "I presume the hired help goes in first." That's why they were hired, after all.

As the ship passes through the planetary shield, Shadow finally triangulates their approach to a small corporate landing pad. Opening the comm to the cockpit again, he asks "Any luck in taking back control of the ship, Clicker?" The droid beeps in the negative, and Shadow shakes his head. "Well, keep trying. And whatever you do, keep the ramp up until I tell you otherwise." When the small droid beeps an interrogative to him, he glances at the translation screen before answering. "I don't care how. Play a game of chess with it. You've got to buy me some time here, buddy. Oh, and seal all the internal air-locks and lock down the lifts until I give you clearance. Or at least, do the best you can." As he's saying this, he reviews the small arsenal he's carrying concealed on his person.

Ever since his capture by the Imps right before the invasion of Caspar, Shadow has made a point of being prepared for sticky situations. Taking up a position in one of the cabins two doors down from the main cargo hold airlock door, he begins pulling out most of the weapons and placing them within easy reach. Wouldn't do to stick yourself with a vibro-knife while trying to draw it out of hiding in the face of a boarding party. He powers down the M434 and SS-V blasters to stun settings, but also pulls out an AA-8 that he managed to smuggle through CorSec when he was picking up the ship. Checking the load-out of that weapon of last resort, he nods to find shot rounds loaded into the first 4 shots, with a final high density slug in the last slot. LeaNing the small cannon against the bulkhead inside the cabin and placing his small cache of grenades on the cabinet before him, he figures his position is as solid as it can be right now.

Leading the way off the assault ship, Kora turns that sharp-toothed grin on Sid. "You said you could handle it, bloodboy. I'm assuming you're not just talk and blast heat." She runs her hand down the rifle cradled against her body and checks the settings, throwing an instruction back over her shoulder at the teammate with the slugthrower. "Remember, alive if possible."

Approaching the freighter, the Twi'lek pulls a specialized comlink out of her pocket and hits the activation button. Nothing. Her steps slow as she hits it again. Nothing. "Uh-oh..." Kora stops. "That was supposed to cycle the hatch and drop the ramp. Something's gone wrong." Gesturing with the comm-encumbered hand for the two males to move ahead she hits the thing for the third time. With no response forthcoming, the woman swears while lekku echo the sentiment. "All rightie..." The comlink is dropped, a small cylinder fished off her belt. "Symoxin dropped 'em once, it can drop 'em again." Holding the little bio-delivery grenade out in front of her she inquires mildly, "Which of you two can throw accurately? This should kick up enough ga to put anything organic that's moving in there down again."

Hey, cool, baseball didn't go to waste. "I don't promise he won't be out from getting hit in the face with it, but I can throw decent." Sid unlimbers an arm to take the grenade if it's forthcoming. "I fail to see how that helps us to get into a ship that apparently isn't unsealing like was expected, though," he points out in matter-of-fact tone, having already given the NESTT freighter a good looking over. Boxy SoB, isn't it? Yes, yes indeed. This lady's giving the orders, so unless she wants to just blast it open, going to have to wait.

Sulla goes through the motions of checking his gear. His modified Tuskan slug-thrower armed with clips at the ready. Breath mask at 100 percent. Bandages wrapped tightly. All was ready. Standing in solemn silence, Sulla waits for the mission to begin. Nar Shadda, Bothuwui, Bondan, Coruscant, what were these places to his ancestors? They had no words for these far away places where he makes use of his talents. All they had to worry about were Banthas and encroching settlers. The simple life of the warriors in his tribe seems somthing some poet imagined. Unreal. His life would have been the same if not for some Hutt who desired to have a 'pet' Tuskan Raider to show off to his friends. A true savage to entertain his guest. From Nar Shaddaa to Tattooine and all points in between he entertained the ruthess thug with his grunts and screams. They laughed, oohed and awwed at the savage in the cage. A mear boy, but real enough for them. When he started speaking their language and emulating their ways, they lost interest. Now he was no longer a nice little curio in a Hutt palace; just another slave. Still he was strong and handy with a rifle, so his 'lord' sent him on errands. Beat him up; shoot up that store; murder that family; all just to keep himself alive. Now he was free unable to return to the tribe of his boyhood, praying that he could find someone who could do him in. But not without a fight. If anyone was going to kill Sulla, they had better be as good as him. He pushes the thoughts that plauge his existance aside a readies himself for the hijacking. Pulling the armorweave coat tighter around himself he watches Kora waiting for the command to exit.

He follows Kora off the ramp to the freighter where their quarry awaits them. At the mention of the commlink being out, Sulla is not suprised. It would be a relief to see a mission go to plan just for once, but this Tuskan Raider has seen to much to know that no plan is foolproof. Readying his high-velocity weapon for the fight, he sits back and waits for his employer to give the next command.

Flipping on the terminal screen on the small desk in the cabin that he's has fortified himself in, Shadow is just in time to catch the translation of the last bit of Clicker's apology as the display shows the boarding ramp cycling open. Shrugging, the Commander pulls out the portable O2 mask and re-breather equipped in his flight vest, and clips it to his collar so it's easily accessable, figuring that the attackers used gas before, they might again. And this way it's not in the way if they come in guns blazing. He takes up the SS-V in his left hand, while grabbing a flash grenade in his right. "Keep the internals shut down until I tell you, Clicker. The ramp is just one less thing to worry about." His eyes narrow as he waits...

"About time." Nudging the man garbed in the color of dried blood forward with the muzzle of her rifle, and not caring if he takes umbrage at the handling, Kora nods toward the lowering ramp. "Go!" She gives him only the baerst of starts before she's running herself, pacing her steps to the one who'll throw the grenade and trusting her other hierling will be behind her. The talisman in her pocket should assure that. She swings the rifle forward, prepared to be on Sid's heels as he enters the ship; for all she doesn't plan on taking the first shot, she still doesn't trust this one. The other, behind her? She trusts him a bit more, but not too many of the beings she's hired over the years have signed in blood, either.

Sid feels the nudge and is pretty damn sure that that's not a hand. .oO ( When this is over, we're renegotiating my fee.) Of that he's sure. He only has the one gas grenade and doesn't want to run into its spray, so will have to figure out where their prey is first, before using it. The carbine is kept held at the ready as he stalks up the ramp, doing a little weave to allow him to see more of what's up inside, a quick wave of it up overhead to see if he can get anyone up there to fire early, before he comes properly up into the ship's interior.He's up and inside soon enough, checking the place out more carefully.

With the command of Go, he runs off of the freighter taking his position near Kora. Kneeling down, he aims his rifle carefully at the ramp in case anyone should exit. Following Sid into the ship, he keeps a wary eye open for any guards that may be on hand. Looking for anything that is out of place he continues into the ship, wary of the slightest sound or movement. So far all seems well as he makes his way into the hold of the ship. Too well in fact.

"Clicker get me a count. What am I looking at for bogey's here?" The R3 runs over the sensors and responds to the Commander's question. "Three, eh?" He stalks over to the airlock doors, and kneels down beside them. Punching the activator button on the flash grenade, he holds it down to prevent the countdown from starting. Activating his comlink and clipping it opposite his breath mask, he says into it, "When I say now, open the cargo airlock Clicker." Gently placing the luma device on the deck just outside the door, the Shadow releases it as he runs back to his cabin, saying "Now, Clicker! Now!" into his comlink as he skids around the doorway into his little bunker, shifting the blaster to his right hand. Behind him the doors open, and a bright flash goes off.

The doors begin to cycle and a green hand slaps leather-clad shoulder. "Throw!" And then Kora's got her head down and is cutting to the left, behind Sid toward what cover's available to that side of the doors. The rifle muzzle tracks the ever-widening space as she moves, dropping to one knee to slide the last couple of meters into position. Something moves back there and a single shot is squeezed off, blue bolt going wide and then the world goes pure white. Pulling back until she slams her lekku into the wall, the Twi'lek swears as snow dances across her irises, obscuring sight.

Sid is sort of wired at this point. The little plan seems to have been classified SNAFU from the get-go, and now he's stalking up into a nice dark ship with little in the way of indication as to just how many goons are in here and just where they might be. As such he's going to have to check out this entire fricking ship before it can be ruled as clear. He's actually working his way around the right outer wall when the door deeper into the ship is heard opening. He whirls, potting a couple blaster bolts in that direction. One spangs against the metal, the other flying through beyond. The flash was not expected, a definite curse coming forth at that.

Sulla grabs at his goggles as the flash grenade goes off. The seering light from the grenade coupled with the enhanced vision his goggles give him, cause him to go blind for a moment. Throwing himself against the side of the hold he silently berates himself for not seeing that coming. Breathing deeply he allows his eyes to adjust knowing that a flash grenade means someone might be coming through. Staying low he makes his way through the opening prepared to shoot anything that moves.

Gritting his teeth as he hears blaster bolts slamming into various bulkheads aboard his ship, Shadow leans part way out as the airlock doors fully open. Getting a prime view of his mostly blinded assailants, the CDU Commander sights in on the first being through, a being wrapped in bandages and wearing an intricate mask. Not taking the time to analyze the strange get-up, he narrows his eyes and squeezes off a shot from his carbine, the blue bolt crossing the space between the two beings in a flash of energy.

 Shadow rolls a 13 for his BLASTER skill. An Average roll!  Sulla rolls a 14 for his DODGE skill. An Average roll!

Ahhh, screw the symoxin. Flinging herself prone, the Twi'lek employs one of the greatest assets of the Imperial standard weapon and lays a fanning spray of shots down the hall. She might not see her target, but she can sure hear him. Something blazes overhead and part of her listens for the thud from behind that would mean that one of her team went down, but the rest of her bain is focused on getting this ship and that man, so anything she hears she won't react to anyway. Boots gain traction on the deck as she prepares to move forward. Retreat never won the battle.

The blast of blue light flies past the Tuskan Raider as he enters. Feeling the heat from the blaster shot puts his nerves on edge. "He must be kept alive," he mutters to himself as he is about to send a bullet in the same direction the blaster bolt came from. From here on out he must be quite, he think to himself as he starts crawling along the floor to their prey. Sulla pulls himself along the floor hoping to get behind this troublesome CDU officer. As he does this, he checks on the progress of his teammates. All that really matter is that his employer is well. Whether or not the other survives matters not to his reputation.

 Sulla rolls a 16 for his HIDE skill. A Good roll!  Shadow rolls a 17 for his SEARCH skill. A Good roll!

Hearing the thud of a body hitting the deck, Shadow grins tightly then ducks back into the cabin with a muttered curse as the barage of blaster fire streaks down the hall. Shadow casts about his little fortress for another plan. Spotting the gas grenade on the cabinet, he plucks it up while biting down on the breather clipped to his collar. Thumbing the activator, he chucks the gas filled object down the hall and sticks his arm around the corner, indescriminately sending more blue bolts into the gas cloud to draw more fire. "I'm running out of options here..." he mutters to himself as he's firing.

Blasterfire makes it hard to hear your target, but things are beginning to swim around Kora's sight as she crawls forward. He's got to be nearby, she heard a bootfall. Finger held down and spraying energy, she gauges where her target might be Up and to the right, she thinks. Rolling slightly, still slithering along like some sort of lekku-enabled green snake, the Twi'lek tries to make out doorframe and aim between the uprights. She has two more power packs, something's gotta give before she runs ot. Making a mental note to herself to have that engineer who assured her his droid brain was infallible flogged, Kora grimly sprays another barrage.

The Tuskan word he lets out as the gas grenade flies past him doesn't sound like it would translate into anything pleasent. Dropping the modified slug-thrower to the side, he unhooks his gaffi stick from his back and tries again to get close enough to his target to strike him. Activating the vibro-weapon capabilities of his not-so traditional, traditional weapon, he rolls to the other side of the room hoping to get closer to him. This one seems resourceful. It would be nice to do him in with the Gaffi stick.

 Sulla rolls a 26 for his HIDE skill. An Excellent roll!  Shadow rolls a 12 for his SEARCH skill. An Average roll!

Bolt after bolt of blue energy spatters against the door frame and bulkhead, close enough to send tingles shooting through Shadow's extremities. Ducking back inside the room for a brief respite, he notices the bolts slow up for a second and that the targeting seems to be wavering. Leaning out with a pilot's trained quickness, he sights in on the blaster wielder, and squeezes off a shot at the prone green Twi'lek. Blue energy pierces the space between them, closing in on the target.

 Shadow rolls a 21 for his BLASTER skill. Shadow boosts this roll with a Character Point for 5, for a total of 26. An Excellent roll!  Kora rolls a 19 for her DODGE skill. A Good roll!

Teeth gritted, the Twi'lek draws her left knee up to give herself a slightly beter angle and lets up for a moment as she does. Then there's movement and her finger slams down on the trigger again, gritted teeth turning into a feral grin as the idiot Human exposes himself almost fully to her shots. Which are high and to the left beause of the position change. "Schutta!" Dragging the muzzle downward Kora's eyes are on where the bolts should be gong when another flash takes her in, this one blue. Too much torso exposed, it only needs to hit to be effective, and taking her right shoulder proves to be sufficient. "Schu..." and then face and rifle meet deck and the ambitous female's last thought is canceled by black oblivion.

Closing in on the CDU pilot, he casts one last glance at Kora before striking his knock-out blow. The lifeless body of the Twi'lek sends rage throught the Tuskan. Now he is out of a paycheck, any new prospects will be tainted, and he has no idea where to bring the unconscience pilot. Turning the gaffi's vibro to max, he readies himself to make a killing blow. Loudly he cries," HEEEEEEEEEEE, HEEEEE, HEEE, HOOO!!!" as he strikes at the pilot.

 Sulla rolls a 18 for his MELEE COMBAT skill. A Good roll!  Shadow rolls a 22 for his DODGE skill. An Excellent roll!

Startling at the shrill cry that seems to come from the deck plates, Shadow leaps backwards just as a strange melee weapon passes through the space his head formerly occupied. He's now lieing on his back in his small fortress, with a rather angry looking being waving a frightening stick at him. The only problem for the alien is he's standing fully exposed, waving a stick at the Commander from a range of about 10 feet after his lunge. Shadow smiles crookedly, and triggers a bolt of blue energy from his carbine, directly at the chest of the creature before him.

 Shadow rolls a 15 for his BLASTER skill. An Average roll! <SKILL> Sulla rolls a 17 for his DODGE skill. A Good roll!

Deckfaced, Kora snores softly. Despite what her henchbeing thinks, she's not dead, only blissfully unaware.

His gaffi-stick smacking against the side of the ship sends painful vibrations up his arms. All logical thought is lost in fury as he turns from calculating mercenary to Tuskan savage. The beam that flies by him only raises his ire to new levels as his instinct tells him that he must die. Blood pumping at an alarming rate. His vision sees only hate. Blood he wants and blood he must have. Placing his feet into a position that would give the strike more inertia. HOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

<SKILL> Sulla rolls a 14 for his MELEE COMBAT skill. An Average roll! <SKILL> Shadow rolls a 19 for his DODGE skill. A Good roll!

The enclosed space of the room actually works in his favor with the broad sweeping strokes his adversary is making. Calling upon his combat training at the hands of the CDU Marines during his Navy Intelligence days, Shadow ducks the passing weapon. Black armorweave lined coat flaring behind him, he quickly steps inside the arc of the unconventional weapon as inertia carries the gaffi stick past him. Placing the barrel of his carbine against the stomach of the alien, he smiles sweetly as he pulls the trigger, sending a bright burst of stun energy directly into the being's body.

The energy from the pilot's blaster causes the Tuskan Raider's body to seize up and shake for a mere moment before he crashes to the ground. All the strength in the galaxy can stop his body from falling, or keep his eyes from closing. With a loud thud, Sulla hits the ground defeated. Though he lies motionless, his gaffi stick never leaves his hands.

As the last of the invaders crumples to the deck, Shadow blows out a long sigh of relief. He slings the SS-V over his shoulder and, with a length of rope found in one of the storage lockers aboard the ship, begins to securely tie up the sentients who so rudely invited themselves aboard his ship. As he's going about disarming and dragging the unconcious bodies around, the comm twitters excitedly. Going over to the nearest terminal, he reads Clicker's excited news that he's found the physical location of the droid brain, but Shadow will have to climb up into the forward access-ways himself to disconnect the thing. Speaking into his own comlink as he drags the last of the invaders into the port-forward cargo hold, he says, "Power up the interior and get down here to port-forward to keep an eye on these three, Clicker. I'm going to disconnect that droid and get us headed to Caspar." Pumping another stun-shot into the three captured sentients, Shadow nods as the small yellow and green R3 unit trundles into the forward hold and jacks into a convenient computer access port to keep in touch with the ship's computer and the Corellian pilot. Stepping into the lift up to the cockpit, Shadow seats himself at the pilot's chair and takes off. Clearing what passes for traffic control on the Smuggler's Moon, he sets course for Caspar, heavy three sentients.