RK felt good to be looking through the visor of the stormtrooper armor, even though he preferred the Storm commando armor the squad normally wore; He couldn't complain, at least he had armor.

He could hear nervous laugh through his helmet. This was different, real different, usually they were the ones being hunted. well it's not much different, only you entered the army to escape being hunted, now your being hunted, seriously this is messed up. He thought, checking the E-11 Carbine for any defects, it was something he had trained himself to do.

When he was done he took his helmet off, he knew he would have to put it on in a flash so he just set it down beside him; He holstered his E-11 as well.

“So think we will make it out alive?” RK asked, not really talking to anyone specific, Kanderin however was the first to reply.

Kanderin stared at him for a little bit and just gave him a stern look. “RK, you know nothing is certain, you out of this whole squad should know that.”

He was right, RK should have known that. The sad part is he hadn't learned that, or not fully. He just shook his head. Ever since he had returned from his leave he hadn't felt the same. Maybe it was getting used to a new squad, he had known almost everyone in Eclipse as family, and he had to start over. He didn't mean anything against Wraiths, he just didn't get along with people instantly, even if he was quick-witted.

“RK, don't worry. You do your job and we'll do ours, everything will work out. As long as you point that blaster in the right direction.” Arnaut said. Laughter erupted in to the car. Even RK couldn't help but laugh at that.

“Alright.” He didn't even continued to talk. He just put his helmet back on and started checking and making sure all the systems still worked.

RK was starting to get bored. Time seemed to go slower than it really was. this isn't new to you, you should be used to this. He wasn't though. Something didn't feel right, as if he was being watched. He really didn't know why he felt it though.

He glanced back down at his E-11, he really didn't like the standard issue blaster; Even if it was one of the best blaster's in the galaxy, it still wasn't his favorite. He picked it up and looked it over, it had looked damaged from years of use and beating. Markings etched the sides, it looked like someone was keeping count of there kills. I'm not the only one who gets bored on the job.He stared at it for a few more moments, re holstering it within a blink of the eye.

The Eye holes on the helmet of the armor made his vision limited, but he could have swore he saw light  reflecting off of the back window. He got up to take a closer look; He felt crammed trying to maneuver through the cruiser. As he got closer to the window that's when he noticed a feint movement. He couldn't make it out, but luckily the Stormtrooper armor had a night-vision mode. He quickly flipped it on, what appeared on his screen wasn't what he was expecting. He double checked to make sure what he was seeing wasn't a figment of his imagination. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

“Ummm, last I checked Police cruisers don't tailgate.” RK stated. He turned around and made his way to the cockpit. “Arnaut, I think we're being followed.”

“What?” Arnaut looked up at him. Almost thinking it was a joke.

“I believe, they are pretty close. Could just be a civilian.”

Kanderin already had the radio turned on. Nothing but static was coming through. “They probably cut off contact to this vehicle.” Kanderin tried turning a couple knobs, still nothing came in. He looked up at RK. “Is there a radio in that Helmet?” RK looked down at him and nodded in acknowledgment.

RK turned the radio on with a blink of his eye; this time something came through. He listened intently, hoping that they would hear something of interest.

“This is Sergeant Kutler, I am in pursuit of the police speeder that was tolen at the crime scene. I am picking up life signs on board, one has stormtrooper...” The man on the radio stopped in midsentence. RK knew he had just realized that the possibility of them listening in was there. “I'm cutting of communications, they could be listening.” The comm went dead. Yep, he definitely knows the possibility stands whether he knows I was listening I don't know. He removed his helmet and looked at Kanderin, then to Arnaut.

“Were definitely being followed, oh and he knows we have the armor, he cut off communication through radio realizing I could have been listening.”A downcast look came over both Arnaut and Kanderin's face.

They stood there for a while, Arnaut hadn't spoke. There was no way of escaping them, everyone knew that. Time was going by slowly, it seemed if the situation couldn't get worse. Then it took a turn for the worse.

The whole cruiser rattled and shook, Arnaut grabbed the controls to keep the cruiser steady. RK turned around to go see what was going on; He almost ran into Jennabelle.

“Were being fired at!” Jennabelle said. Both RK and Kandering ran back into the cockpit. this is not good this is not good at all.

OOC:

Due to the number of problems and unclearness of your post, Jenny, we're going to have to go on without it. This continues from RK's post.

Black, oily plumes marked the trail that their speeder was taking. They billowed out of the back end where heavy repeater fire had shorn open the metal exterior down to the engine systems beneath. Already, one of the three rear thrusters was failing, causing the speeder to shudder periodically. The Wraiths, huddled in the tin-can of death, tried not to notice, not to hear the metallic whine of the thrusters pushed to their limit, not to notice the fingers of smoke already creeping into the cabin. They careened down the streets at excess of one hundred kilometers per hour, narrowly missing poles, buildings, other speeders, and pedestrians.

Directly behind them, three police speeders were matching their speed and their course, even better than the Wraiths were themselves. And were actually gaining on them. Add to that the fact that each and every one of them was spouting a huge stream of repeater-fire in the Wraiths general direction, and it soon became obvious that the Wraiths wouldn’t be alive for much longer. They had to lose them pronto.

“Right, right, right!” D’har shrieked from the back, gesturing frantically at an alleyway up ahead. Arnaut twisted the wheel ferociously, sending the whole speeder spinning out of control. They shed a lot of speed, the G’s pushing everyone down into their seat. A lot of speed, but not enough. They came at the alleyway sideways, still going way too fast to try and correct. The back of the speeder smashed the corner of the building and all resemblance of a thruster was torn off. They spun, the world swishing dizzly in the front windshield. Everyone was screaming, filling the small space of the speeder with such a cacophany that Arnaut felt that his head had to have exploded already. Nausea wracking his body, Arnaut closed his eyes and tucked up, ready for the worst.

They hit the ground with such a force that the speeder was instantly lifted back up again. None too soon; they barely made it over a low brick wall cutting the alleyway in half. They came down again on their side, flipped over once, crumpled the nose of the speeder into a mess of broken metal, flipped a second time, and skidded for a few hundred meters before coming to a rest. The silence that came next was only interrupted by the occasional fizz of electrical wire failing and the distant howl of the police speeders as they missed they alleyway and sped off, away from their quarry.

“Everyone...everyone alright?” There were murmurs of consent all around. Battered, weary murmurs, but everyone was alive. For now.

“Let’s...let’s get going. Before they c-come back. Ditch th-the stormtrooper armor too. N-no need to d-draw attention to ourselves,” Arnaut said, his voice quavering. His whole body trembled and he was sore all over. Nothing seemed broken, but he wasn’t going to risk it. He stepped out of the remnants of their vehicle lightly, still a bit shaky on his feet.

He breathed easier now that he was on his feet, though. He would trust his feet over a speeder any day. He turned around as the rest of the squad; Kanderin, RK, D’har, Jenn, and Hartigan filed out of the hunk of metal. Kanderin had the prison guard’s helmet on, and D’har had the chest plate. Without the stormtrooper outfits, those two pieces were their only segments of body armor.

Arnaut had never felt so unprotected in his life, at least not in any of the time since he’d joined the VE. Very ironic, feeling so unprotected on the only world he could really call home any more. He laughed bitterly to himself.

“Alright. First order of business is to find someone to take us off the planet. We only have a few hours; too long and they’ll realize that we’ve made it out of the prison, and it’ll be damn near impossible to get off-world.”

“You mean they don’t already?”

“No, those speeders after us were for the theft of the police vehicle. I suspect they’ll know within two hours or so, and have the entire city on lockdown in two and a half. We’re on borrowed time now. We need to get out as soon as possible.” Everyone nodded. They understood what needed to be done. Doing it was another problem all together.

“The spaceport is that way,” Kanderin said, pointing to a lit up area barely glimpsed bewtween the buildings ahead.

“We might as well start out for there. I think I see a clothes retailer ahead where we can switch out these prison uniforms for some decent articles. Anyone have any objections to adding theft to our already long list of crimes?”

No one did.

Correllia. Not exactly a very close planet, considering it was on the other side of the core, but they would be far out of Vast Empire jurisdiction. Far out of any Imperial jurisdiction for that matter. They were entering into NR and neutral joint-space. Hopefully the New Republic general populace didn’t have as much of an idea of what happened on Serrel as the Imperial populace did. If they were recognized, it was all over.

Arnaut had black cargo pants with a button-up white shirt and a vest thrown over it accompanied by a set of plain black boots. A spacer, no more, no less. Except that he was carrying a blaster in one hand and was hiding away in the storage area of a vehicle that didn’t belong to him. Other than that, he looked and played the part of one of the millions of random spacers drifting the galaxy.

Arnaut hefted his E-11 awkwardly. His A280 was much more comfortable and reassuring. This thing felt ridiculously underpowered compared to the solid punch of the A280’s armor-piercing rounds and the magazine that came with them. Still, an E-11 was preferable to no weapon at all. And no weapon at all, especially on a planet as notorious from petty crime as Correllia, well, that was a death wish.

“Uh oh, inventory,” RK said, peering outside over one of the crates.

“Scatter!” Arnaut cried as quietly as possible. The squad moved away from the entrance to the underbelly of the ship, back amongst the crates

Arnaut ducked behind a row of large ones, standing a good meter taller than him. Hartigan came up beside him. He saw Jenny and RK duck behind a row in the very back and Kanderin and D’har just make it out of sight before the men came aboard.

It was only three, thankfully, and they didn’t stay long. Not an inventory check after all. They pushed a few crates down, then checked the hatch seal, finally closing the large metal door behind them. Arnaut slowed his breathing, trying to be as silent as he could be. Next to him, Hartigan visibly stiffened, his body becoming rigid, his breathing tight. The men were on the other side of the crates, whispering amongst themselves. One knocked on the wall that Arnaut and Hart were cowering behind, and both of them nearly jumped out of their positions. Slowly Arnaut brought his gun into a better position at his side. If need be, he would kill to keep the squad undetected.

The men whispered a bit longer, took a peek in a crate a few rows down, and then left through a door at the far end of the room linking the cabin with the rest of the ship. Arnaut breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his gun.

“All clear,” he said, still quietly. The squad popped out and they moved to the farthest, most remote corner of the cabin, piling crates to shield themselves from prying eyes and to give them a good view of the door and hatch. When it was done, they laid out some of the extra clothes and, using duffel bags they’d “acquired” from the store as pillows, took a much-needed rest.

Arnaut kept watch, squatting in between two of the larger crates, keeping an eye on the door. His E-11 rested on the crate next to him and he munched on a nutrient bar also swiped from said store thoughtfully. It was another hour before the shuttle actually shuddered off the landing pad

The lights went out in the large space, enclosing them in a welcoming darkness. Everyone save Arnaut drifted off. Arnaut pulled up the one helmet the squad had among them and plopped it on, using its nightvision to keep a lookout.

Correllia. What would they do once they got there? Certainly Albatross would know they had escaped before they reached Correllia. But they still had the benefit of surprise. Albatross knew they were getting off planet, but didn’t know where. There were hundreds of flights off-planet, half of them out of his reach. Or so Arnaut thought. Hoped, really. Albatrosss was proving to be far more formidable that he’d first expected.

Correllia. A trader’s world. Wherever trading occurred, there was always an underlying black market, right?
Arnaut thought back to the very first mentions of Albatross. What he’d been looting and stealing off the Imperial shipping lanes. Chemicals, weapons, too expensive for their meager funds to buy into. Arnaut thought back farther, deeper. He’d gazed at the long list of shipping transcripts numerous times. Always chemicals, weaponry, light body-armor, and...and...

Medical narcotics. They’d hit at least seven supply lanes carrying that. All they needed to do was find a supplier and trace back the steps. The company that made them was Imperial-exclusive, so finding it wouldn’t be too hard, Arnaut reckoned.

If that didn’t work, bulk Imperial blasters would be their next pursuit, however much it cost. Arnaut was fairly certain that, between those two leads, they could track Albatross’ ever-growing pirating and mercenary group. Something that large couldn’t hide forever.

Arnaut jumped slightly as Kanderin’s hand touched his shoulder. He looked up and Kanderin motioned for the helmet. Arnaut handed it to him and very gratefully went back to the small alcove of crates to catch a bit of sleep.

Nine hours ‘till they landed. Nine hours to sleep, think, and prepare for one of the hardest missions yet. With thoughts of Albatross, black markets, and Correllia swirling around in his head, Arnaut drifted off.

Hisss, Clank RK was glad to here the door's shut, they didn't have to kill anyone, yet. It wasn't like they didn't have a long list of crimes anyway, adding to them wouldn't make anything worse. Everything that could be worse had already happened.

Jennabelle was nodding off, RK wanted to wake her up, but he decided against it. They had had a rough week, a good sleep would help. HE even felt himself starting to doze off, he had to stay awake though.

He checked his E-11 one more time, making sure it was calibrated just in case, he didn't want to shoot in the wrong direction. He still couldn't figure out why the hell there were markings on the side of it, they seemed familiar, like from a bad dream.

Wonder why we haven't... Finally. It would only be a couple hours before they landed on Corellia. It had been a long time since RK had been off Tadath, Last time he was he had been attacked. this isn't much different, now is it? He thought, a cloud of uncertainty coming over him. Whatever happened though, they would get out of it, after all they were Wraith.

-_-_-_-_-Corellia Space-_-_-_-

Arnaut was standing over the rest of the squad, they still hid behind crates. RK heard the engines slow and the hull started to vibrate and creak under the almost sudden stop.

“Guess where there.” Arnaut whispered. His gun ready.

They didn't know what would meet them when they landed on Corellia, after all they couldn't see outside.

RK followed Arnaut and Kanderin to a pair of crates closest to the doors. They really didn't want to kill anyone, after all on Corellia they were just normal citizens, if they could get out of this ship without anyone seeing them that is.

As they passed by Jennabelle, RK hit her with the butt of his gun. She woke up with a startle, Grabbing for her gun. D'har just laughed under his breath a little.

They sat beside the opening to the cargo bay, each one of them that had a gun lifted it, waiting for the hunk of metal to land on the surface.

I hope Corellian's are nice RK thought glumly.

-_-_-Corellia Landing bay.-_-_-_-

Corellia was a nice planet, the air actually felt breathable. It reminded RK of a better version of Coruscant it actually had forest's and animals. Un-like Coruscant, which was 98% metal, and the rest of it was air.

They had split up after getting off the Ship. Arnaut didn't want to draw to much attention, if they became enemies of the Corellia government then they probably would probably have to get off the planet, again. RK didn't mind, the ore they jumped, the more planets he would get to visit.
The landing bay wasn't as big as he had expected. It was a good hang out area, come to think of it he noticed a lot of people were on th bay, some of them didn't even look like workers. It was a perfect hide out, even with the gun at his side, he blended in. I could get used to this.

Blaster fire grazed RK's arm. It burned, but he had to keep going, he had no choice. Right now it was do or die. He fired aimlessly behind him, hoping he would hit someone by “Accident”.

The dashed down into an Alley way. It stunk, but it provided basic cover, which was enough. He turned around and start back walking, trying to keep his balance. He fired a couple rounds towards the guard, before turning back around and catching a glimpse of Arnaut giving the signal to split-up.

RK made a severe right turn down the next alley way, He almost got lost in the mist that shrouded it.. Note to self, avoid visiting Coronet. The blaster fire had stopped, but he continued to run. The dark path of the alleyway started to illuminate the farther he went. When the darkness finally receded RK stopped. He was standing in the middle of a Market place, at least that's what it looked like.

He walked slowly backwards and stood at the edge of the Alley. Now what. He looked around, It was uncanny how much Corellia reminded him of Coruscant. “So...”

He looked behind him. He watched the guard run down the alley, looking around to see where Wraiths had went. He raised his E-11 just in case they came his way.

Come on go away.

“Sir, I 'm going to have to ask you to put that thing down.” RK whirled in a 360, keeping the E-11 carbine level the whole time. What surprised him was who was standing there.

“Hartigan?” RK asked, his breath still heavy from the running.

“Hey, I know where traitors to the VE but I think being traitors in our own squad is pushing it don't you?” Hartigan pointed to the blaster, still pressed against his chest.

“Oh, right...” the carbine lowered. RK looked at Hartigan and grinned.

“So what do we do now?”

“I say we go back the way Arnaut did, better be careful though, those guards might be hanging around the corner.” The walked back down the alley. The lights disappeared and the stench wafted back into RK's nostrils once again. Ah, Coru... Correllia.

-_-_-_-Apartment Complex-_-_-_-

RK lead the way inside to the Complex, Hartigan took up the rear with D'har right behind RK. A girl was croughec in the corner, she looked scared out of her wits. Yep, Arnaut definitely came this way. They walked towards the stairs, scorch marks from stray fire cluttered the first few stairs.

RK couldn't tell where Arnaut had gone after running up the stairs, he didn't even know if he was still here.

“Guys, keep alert.”  It was eerie, it even felt deserted in here.

They continued ot go up the spiral stairs and then stopped. A door was busted open and the viewing screen was still on. They walked inside, RK and Hartigan both had their blasters raised, ready to fire in case anything decided to jump them.

“Okay, Split-up and check the premises.”

“Alright, I call the kitchen.” D'har whispered, running off towards the small kitchen.

Hartigan headed towards the Restroom and the Sleeping quarters. RK stayed in the living quarters. He was almost tempted to check out what was on the Holonet, he fought against it and went to check the coffee table. If Arnaut was around here the man who owned the place obviously hadn't given up a fight.

He looked down at the table and picked up a Datapad that was laying there. He picked it up, keeping his face down the whole time. When he finally did look up he had a blaster in his face.

“Drop it.” A man said. He was about the same height as RK.

“You know you could say please.” RK grinned.

“Who are you?” the man looked around to see D'har rummaging through the kitchen.

“Just tourists...” RK Replied.

“I'm serious. YOU get out of there.” D'har instantly dropped what he was doing and lifted his hands up.

“Can we settle this like civilized people?”

“Sure, who are you?” The man sure was persistent.

“Ryan Karrax, Wraith Squad, VE trooper. Anything else you want to know?” The man's eyes went wide , he dropped the blaster and turned around,wWalking towards a closet just behind him. Arnaut appeared right next to him.

“Well, I guess you've met Ron.” Arnaut said, A grin coming across his face.

“Yes I guess.”

Little light made it's way into the one room apartment. It was a quiet little abode, a place where you could just kick back and relax. It looked as if it hadn't been lived in for that long, or maybe Ron just kept it that clean. Still it was a nice place.

“So, you actually live here?” RK grinned.

“Yea, it's nothing special, just a place to eat, sleep, hang out.” Ron was still talking to Arnaut, about what RK didn't know, but whatever it was it had to do with Albatross.

“Do you ever clean out your Refrigerator?” D'har asked, his face was looking a little pale, and he was heading towards the restroom.

“Not really, I just know what to eat and what not.”

RK couldn't help but let out a small laugh. He hadn't been with Wraith for long, but he knew he was going to get used to this. “So where going to crash here?”

“Yea, for now, until we get our barrings, or we formulate a plan.” Arnaut replied.

"Well that's all fine with me." RK said
*_*_*

Time seemed to pass slowly; it had seemed like it had been a lifetime ago since they had busted out of prison."Is D'har alright?"

“He'll be alright, but...” A wretched sound interrupted Aranut. The sound was coming from the refreshers; D'har was still stuck inside, trying to get rid of whatever he ate. "... then agian maybe not.”

RK jumped onto the couch. “I thought you'd never ask.” It felt good to lay back and rest. His whole body was still aching from the crash they had encountered back on Tadath. Ah, it feels good to be home.

OOC:

I don't know how well any of you know Mando'a but I just thought I would let you know. Di'kut means Moron.

Even on the outskirts of the Lit-lane it were bright. The illumination seemed to be alive, like it was trying to reach every dark corner and alleyway. It felt un-safe, but RK was used to it, his whole life had been un-safe.

“Are you there?” D'har was waving a face in front of RK. He hadn't realized he had lost himself in his thoughts.

“Yea” He shook his head, trying to come back to reality. He never thought this meeting would be so dreadfully boring.

Ron shot RK a look. It felt like it had been to hours since they had found the man they now stood before. None of them knew him, however, Ron had heard about him; His name, Ujik Kuyler. He was smaller than RK was, and RK wasn't about to put it past him to put up a fight, after all he was in a squad with Wicket once.

“Alright, I will tell you what you want, but what's in it for me?” Ujik was stroking his gray beard. He looked like a nice old man, but something was mysterious about him.

“What do you want?” Ron didn't even let anyone say anything. don't worry he knows what he's doing he's Corellian after all.

“Credits.” Plain and simple, maybe there wasn't anything wrong with this guy after all. Something still didn't feel right though.

“I don't have any credits, what about I just give you my speeder.” RK couldn't help but give Ron a confused glance. what the ...?

“Speeder?”

“a Q-1600, normal stock, straight off the line.”

RK started to doze off this was getting even more boring then it had ten minutes ago. He started to look around again, that's when he saw it. Two men heading in there direction, he couldn't tell what they were holding but they looked like rifles. maybe they are just...

“Well then, we have a deal.”Ujik slipped his hand into his right pocket and pulled out a small datapad, RK noticed something under his jacket. A pistol.

Ron must've not seen it cause he was signing the datapad, not even looking up.

“RON DUCK!!!” Ron swerved around to look at where RK was standing. It was to late, fire erupted from the two men.

oh, your just made a big mistake ujik RK pulled his E-11 carbine as fast as possible. Two shots whizzed passed his head. Ujik was already moving he pulled the pistol out of his jacket and aimed it at Ron. Ron however was already moving. He grabbed the man's hand . D'har was ducking behind a cart, firing whenever he got a chance.

Could this get any worse?

Filmub'ra appeared in Jenny’s sights, she was a girl of Jenny’s just 20 year old age with the same blue eyes with black eyebrows that she had but with a fierce attitude that only hid in that low and darkish voice. Her skin gray unlike her appearance, with the only expection is that big lips to her fluffy face. Jenny grunted in disgust with her goth like attire and appearance as she whipped her two fellow female companions like whipping sex slaves with her neuronic whip and showing her singing off in front of other ladies in their own personal prostitute bar band. Oh boy, I sure hope Mia don’t come here, she’d love this. Jenny thought, dazzled as after the song was over and she was picked by Filmub’ra to the back stage, she thought that this was one experience she would go to hell before occurring.

    Backstage, it was makeup room and bedroom mixed with a perfume compound smell and a stink of men’s hair or something, it made Jenny shudder to think she’d made this decision to go inside Albatross’ women, but she had to, and at least she knew Filmub’ra, back in that feminism planet, what was it called she can’t remember. But the last thing she wanted as she sat in the comfortable couch in front of Filmub’ra and her two goth bodyguards armed with Sat’skar swords, was sex, especially female sex, it made her kept staring at the dreadful bedroom in the back of the makeup room.

    “We’re not going to ask you to do that, Jenny, stop staring the bedroom, all you have to do is beat these two bitches and I’ll let you know where Albatross gets his women. We used to have a great relationship, you and I, and I enjoyed having these special fun times with you, but now I must do something I hate to do, for I am his lady, and he is my shining knight. My darlings, kill her.” Filmub’ra stated all in Basic, in her fake sweet voice, except that last line in Twi'leki as she lashed at her ladies to follow her orders, handing Jenny’s own Ch’sei sword back to her.

    And they did, with quite precision, as Jenny caught the sword and barely deflected one attack, hitting the table behind her, crushing the table behind her, before the other attack sliced at her tight dress, revealing her bikini underneath a little, the same one she wore the night that happened with Filmub’ra. She cursed in Twi’leki as she got back up and slashed at both of the ladies, dodging each slash in turn. This isn’t going to be easy, but I’ll manage. She thought as she took out the hidden sword that she had kept within the one sword and continued to fight tooth and nail with them.

    Then as she fought on and on with her vibroblade, and room was being teared to pieces, smashed mirrors, turned over chairs, and desks, and makeup compound all over the floor. Jenny bruising not only a bikini revealing, but also a couple of deep cuts on her left and right shoulders. She found that they were easily distracted by the surrounding environment, which she used to her advantage by suddenly spraying one of the slaves with pepper spray, found in her purse, and quickly slicing her furry cat-like head off.
        After that she got the breath kicked out of her by the other more dog-like girl, feeling her biting fury with her wild slashes, which Jenny dodged with ease, for they were much too wild, almost killing Filmub’ra as she dodged and whipped the crazed, could be doped slave to kill her and not her master, which she didn’t, and suddenly, to Jenny’s surprise, removed a VIP entrance card for a bar called Azalus with its address from Filmub’ra and killed the double with a slice in her throat with a rodian ceremonial dagger and gave it to Jenny, in which she licked the blood and tasted the red hot flames within, which stood before her in reality, a beautiful and sexy women named Filmub’ra.

    “I hate to be the encyclopedia, but that’s all the info you’re gonna get, the rest is up to you. And I rather not have you circle around and try a samurai kill on me, cause that kills, you know.” Filmub’ra said as she chuckled a cold smile while Jenny shook her free left hand in thanks and they left, wishing each other good luck.

    Thank god that’s over, now let’s see what Arnaut will do with this information. Jenny reflected, as she stuffed the ceremonial dagger in her left sheath and stuffed the VIP entrance card in her bag, which she also got from Filmub’ra as Jenny left, for Filmub’ra was quite the bisexual, resourceful, and appealing girl that any man or women couldn’t resist.

OOC:

Azalus means danger, and Ch’sei means death, in Twi'leki, Twilek's own language.

Presently the speeder came to a stop, gliding gracefully to a location in who knows where. Arnaut only knew that it'd stopped because of the way the speeder rocked gently, the first movement that he’d felt since the ride had began. He’d long since given up trying to stare out the window. The number of turns they took and the fact that the windows were shaded to near opaqueness meant that all he could see out them was a jumble of loosely defined moving shapes. So it came as a shock, then, when Arnaut stepped out and found he was no longer in the city.

He was surrounded by a lush tropical forest. The stone path he stood on meandered into the distance, passing through a tiny paved square complete with a fountain in the middle. The sounds of flowing water could be heard from nearby, in at least two directions, and exotic birds sang distantly through the trees. Arnaut didn’t realize that Corellia had many tropical forests, especially so close to the city of Coronet. That’s when he noticed that, despite his initial thought, they hadn’t ever left the city. Just barely showing, in between the leaves, Arnaut could make out the outline of the cityscape. Except it...seemed shorter. Which meant that this walled villa was not only on the inside of the city, a feat requiring exorbitant amounts of money, but also up high, probably part of a larger complex. Money had its rewards.

Behind him, the speeder slowly descended back down the shaft, into the lower part of the building and, presumably, the garage. Arnaut watched it leave, and then slowly turned back around, taking in the surroundings again. His escort was already moving.

“Hey, erm...buddy? Can I call you buddy?”

“Kroh. Vakrius Kroh.”

“Alright, Kroh. How’s this deal going to play out? I just...y’know...can’t be strolling through town with narcotics crates in my speeder,” Arnaut asked lightly. Kroh looked back.

“We’re not stupid. We have a way of getting it to you...discreetly. Save the rest of your questions for my employer.” Arnaut silenced himself and listened to the bird chirps instead. The distant, melodic squawks and shrieks were pleasing. Soothing. Maybe they’d been chosen on purpose, to lull guests off their guard. A piercing, animilistic roar screamed through the trees suddenly, followed by a number of loud clicks.

Kroh stopped, spinning around and holding up his rifle. Arnaut, despite himself, shivered. If Kroh was scared, then Arnaut should be doubly so. Something told Arnaut that that noise wasn’t normal. The birds quieted, leaving an uncomfortable void in place of their tunes. Arnaut slowly pulled out his gun; Kroh didn’t protest. They moved forward, more cautiously, more slowly now.

They finally arrived at the building. It was immense and awe-inspiring, rising out of the trees in one immense piece of glass and metal. All the walls were transparent, allowing the light to shine in and providing a panoramic view of the garden from the inside. But that wasn’t what either Kroh or Arnaut were looking at.

Most of the wall glistening with sickly, black splotches of liquid. Blood.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Kroh said, rushing forward. His heavy-carbine was held out in front of him, his wrist blaster primed and ready. They moved in slowly.

The stench was overwhelming. The combination of blood, stale piss, and the cloying smell of death combined into one nauseating jumble. Arnaut swayed slowly, and then retched on the floor next to him. Needless to say, it did nothing to improve the smell.

“When...when was the last time you were here?” Arnaut asked, once he’d regained some of his composure. Frig, but the smell was awful. He put a sleeve over his nose. It didn’t work.

“Three...three days,” Kroh said, looking down at the ground. No, not at the ground. At his feet were two skeletons, bloodied and torn, with chunks of rapidly decaying meat still stuck on them. Kroh was going rapidly into shock. “My...my men. These were my men.”

“Kroh. Kroh!” Arnaut yelled. “If there’s any chance of getting out of here alive, we’ll need to work together. Can we take the speeder back out? Kroh?” Kroh looked ‘round and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll...we’ll go back and get it. I’ll give the driver a call.” He pressed the comlink attached to his wrist blaster as they slowly backtracked their way back into the jungle..

“Frego. We’re leaving. Now. Bring up the speeder.” Static.

“Frego, we need to go now. Please respond.” Still nothing.

“Frego, I repeat, we—”

“Oh Gods, they’re everywhere! I can’t see...surving....shit, shit shit... nearly...off my arm! Kroh! Kroh! Heeeelp!”

“Frego! Frego! Get out of there!”

“Sir I—” Whatever Frego had been about to say was lost in a jumble of screams and horrible ripping noises. The line went dead. Arnaut looked around now, with his attention not on the comlink anymore. They were in the middle of an artificial jungle with...something out there, and no point of continuing seeing as how their speeder wouldn’t be waiting for them at the other end.

“Let’s...let’s go back inside,” Arnaut said, backing up. Kroh nodded slowly, backing up slowly as well. They didn’t stop until they were back in the horrible smelling atrium of the giant house, mutilated bodies and all.

“Alright, alright, let’s calm down and think. Just think.” Kroh’s hands were shaking pretty badly, but he maintained some level of calmness to his voice. “Frego was on the third floor when he...he...was attacked. There are vehicles on the second floor, and we’re currently on the...twelfth.” His voice sagged and he sank down to his knees.

“We’re going to die, we’re both going to die in this place,” he whimpered, his facade cracking. Arnaut pulled him to his feet, no small feat considering his girth.

“No, we’re not,” Arnaut said firmly. “We will fight to the end; we will not go out soiling our pants.” Kroh smiled weakly, and nodded. He seemed reassured, at least for the moment. “So...where to?”

“There’s a secure armory about two levels down. If there are any survivors, they’d be there. If there aren’t...at least we can get some firepower on our side.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

* * *

Outside, the shadier part of Coronet, the Blue Sector, went on with its business relatively unperturbed. So what if no one had come out of the old Hagen Mansion in a few days, so what if there had been screams reported from the premises about two days prior. Such was normal for the part of town. Descending into the depths was a hive of crime and filth that would make the likes of Nar Shadaa and Coruscant proud.

It came as a surprise, though, when three PSS patrol vehicles came floating down the street and stopped in front of the Hagen Mansion. That was new. PSS patrols generally ignored the Blue Sector, in fact, ignored most of the crime anywhere in the city. The local clientele immediately scattered, and more than one shopkeep looked on the speeders with a frown of disdain over their lost customers. They hovered in the street, slick, menacing.  No one so much as approached them, leaving the roads deserted. The PSS may not have policed much, but no one wanted to cross them.

Almost at once, the doors opened and PSS officers stepped out. Dressed in the standard gray and black fatigues, they didn’t seem menacing, but their stern faces told a different story. All said and done, the three vehicles amounted to only nine troopers. They looked around the empty roads for a second, as if daring anyone to come out, and then got to work. They moved up to the door and gave it a knock. No answer. They knocked again. Still none. They didn’t give the owners a third time. One of the officers procured a small, round object to his belt and fastened it to the door handle. They spread out away from the door and shielded their eyes. There was a click, and then the door exploded inwards. Seven officers went in, leaving two to watch from the doorway outside.

The insides were...were fetid, like decaying meat, or week old cheese. Except worse. Sergeant Joran, currently taking point, gagged and covered his nose. Hopefully, it would go away with time, right? They’d get used to it and all? Wrong. Twenty-seven minutes later, two stories up, the smell was just as bad, if not worse, than when they’d entered. Two of the members had wretched violently already, and not only because of the smell. The air was thick with flies, black, darting little insects about the size of a finger-nail. The PSS officers were constantly spitting them out, an endless stream of hapless flies that got caught in their mouths, whenever they involuntarily opened them.

Finally, another of the officers got tired of it. He tossed a frag, much to the protests of the rest of the officers, into the next room. There was a loud bang, and suddenly the incessant buzzing died down a bit. They moved in and found all the flies downed, more from the shockwave than the shrapnel. Joran, still in front, grabbed a broom and began sweeping through the fine layer of them that had collected on the floor.

In the next room, the same officer once again tried to launch a grenade, but he was stopped. He wouldn’t have needed it anyway. The next room was devoid of life; just skeletons, badly shattered and picked to the bone, and some dried blood patches that even the flies did not want. The officers looked around shakily, for the first time not only seeing the signs that anyone else had been in the house, but seeing that this was not some crime bust like they thought it would be. Tracking those two men out of the cantina had been hard. They’d recognized one of the two, a big man that was known to be in league with one of the most notorious drug lords on the Blue Sector. What they hadn’t counted on was the fact that it didn’t seem as though this drug lord, nor even the two men that had entered before the officers were alive.

They didn’t know what had happened in the mansion, but it wasn’t good.

The was a feral screech, from quite a distance away, the first life they’d heard since the flies had disappeared. Silence. The train of officers had stopped to listen. Thirty seconds went by, a minute. Joran started to move again. Then the gunshots broke out. They seemed to be at the same distance as the screech, and they were definitly packing some heat. Joran guessed something akin to the Imperial E-webs, maybe even a high-caliber, solid slug auto cannon. Screeching followed, and then more gunshots. It was clear that something or someone was fighting whatever the hell kept screeching.

“There’re people alive! Let’s go!” Joran yelled. Everyone began to jog forward, CDEF carbines held at the ready.

They reached a flight of stairs, sped up them, and came to face with a monster. It was an insectoid of some sort, with two, long protruding claws and a jagged row of teeth dominating its features. The white exoskeleton was topped with a layer of thicker, black chitin armor spreading all the way down to its long tail. It stared at them curiously for a second, its glowing red eyes staring at them from underneath the helmet of armor that capped its head. Only for a second, though. Then it pounced.

Joran’s dive was the only thing that saved him. He skidded sideways, not a split second before the creature flicked through the air he’d been occupying. Its scything blades, instead of tearing Joran to pieces, cut the next two people to shreds. Ripped open and bleeding everywhere, the two corpses dropped leadenly to the ground. Joran, seized by his military and officer training more than fear, opened fire with his carbine. The shots pinged harmlessly of the things exoskeleton, but it did distract it from tearing off a third officer’s head. It looked at Joran, the same red eyes staring at him menacingly. He saw its muscles contract. He saw how it squatted low, ready for the jump. Joran fired one, last, helpless shot. The creature exploded.

Amazed, Joran looked down at his carbine. Then he realized that he hadn’t even taken the shot. Down the hall, a large brute of a man hefted an autocannon from his shoulder. He was aiming it directly at the blown open creature that was still thrashing on the ground. Two, large shots shook the building and the creature died.

There was another man behind the first, carrying only an A280 rifle, not the giant cannon of a gun that the first was hefting. Joran realized these were the two that they’d seen in the cantina. That’d make the first one...Crow? Crah? No, no...Kroh. Kroh stepped forward, autcannon trained on the dazed men.

“Get up. We’re leaving, now. You can decide to come with us if you want.”

Joran looked up thickly, shock setting in. The smaller man cursed, looked behind him, and then pulled Joran roughly to his feet. Joran looked around, still trying to grasp the situation. There were five officers left. Two were passed out on the floor, one was throwing up in the corner, one was cowering in piss stained pants, and then there was Joran. He stood, eyes forward, body lax.

“Great...” the small man muttered. He turned, looked back down the hall, and then shoved Joran roughly through the door. On the way out, Kroh dragged the two unconscious men to their feet, hoping that they might wake up before they were forced to be left behind. They weren’t unconscious, though. They were dead. One’s throat was slit nicely, the creatures claw having just barely passed through it in its lunge. The other, as far as Kroh could tell, had died of fear. Kroh grabbed the two remaining men and shoved them forward instead. They made no protest.

Down the stairs again they went, racing to the lower levels. The smaller man jumped the stairs, two at a time, making his way faster down the stairs than Joran or the other two officers could manage. He reached the bottom, gasped, and jumped back as a creature lunged through the doorway and smashed into the opposing wall. His A280 tore it apart.

Two more were right behind it though. Joran, finally getting some wits about him, raised his carbine and began to fire. The chitin armor resisted it at first, but he landed two solid hits to one of the thing’s heads, laying it out in a spray of noxious, purple ichor. The second got off a little better. It skidded for a half second, and then lunged up the stairs, blades slicing the retching officer in two. Wet blood dripping off its body, it raised its head to face Kroh. Who promptly shot it in the face. It flopped backwards, over the small man, and onto the floor below.

They were making good time, now, Joran noted. He felt more alert than ever in his life. They would make it out alive! Alive! The word sounded sweet to him. This was all one bad dream, that’s what it was. He would make it out and it would all be better. He was sure of it.

Joran almost made it. Within sight of the door, a creature suddenly pounced, blades scissoring. They hadn’t even seen it, sitting in the corner as it was, devouring the remains of the two unfortunate PSS officers that had come looking for their friends. Joran’s arm came off in the blink of an eye. In another blink, he was spraying pressurized blood all over the room as he thrashed and screamed on the floor.

Kroh was down, a nasty cut on his thigh dropping him to the ground. The creature spun upon landing, its flicking blades taking off the head of the last remaining PSS guard and forcing the smaller man into a backwards dive. That all took place in the space of one and a half seconds. It raised its snout, looking at Kroh intently. It lunged.

Halfway through mid-air, a flurry of shots ripped open its belly and threw it across the room, crashing into a once ornate piece of furniture. It tried to rise, blood seeping from its opened room, but as felled as another hail of bolts took off its head.

The small man crawled to his feet, standing over the body of Joran. He was dead, his blood utterly spent. He looked around the room and found that there were two more people in it than there had been previously. He looked at them with a mix of shock and wonder.

“Forgive us, but it did take us a while to find you guys,” one said. Arnaut gaped, his mouth moving but no words coming out.

“You are, I assume, Arnaut?” The second one asked. “My name is Koll, and this is D-Crowe. Ron sent us.”

OOC:

Alright, a quick summary of what this side thing adds to the mix. If you haven’t guessed, Albatross sent these creatures (see attached link) to assassinate the person I was meeting so that he (Alb) couldn’t be found. Covering his tracks, shall you say. The creatures (as we might/might not find out later) are not allowed to leave the building due to some stuff that Albatross did to them (chips in the mind and such) to control them. That way, he could silently kill the guy within his own home and it solves the plot hole of why didn’t they jump outside and kill people indiscriminately. They’ll be coming back, near the end, but not yet.

Kroh is with us now, with a personal revenge motive against Albatross for the death of his ‘company’. He'll be our impromptu source, as he sorta knows about Albatross’ dealings with his boss.
D-Crowe and Koll are formally introduced into the story, and can begin posting once they’ve read everything leading up to this point.

I know it’s long, but I kinda got carried away. Feel free to post about debriefing in Ron's apartment. (quick story of what went down, and what we think we should do next)

The creatures (familiar to some of you ) are:

here

Have fun!

One last note: I didn't realize, but the CorSec have been disbanded already in our timeline. They are officially replaced with the PSS, Public Safety Service.

One other last note: D-Crow and Koll are the two associates Ron had that he thought had died. Well, they didn't. You can make up a story as to why on your own...

Quote:“Yea sounds good, I call the couch.” RK grinned, was already starting to doze off. Leaving Ron who was still sitting at the table in front of the only window in the whole apartment, which even then gave limited view.

It was a quiet night, even for Corellia, which was normally all hustle and bustle.  Ron looked out the dingy, cracked window which served as his portal to the Lit Lane outside, and drifted off... his mind creating illusions that were not there.  It seemed like time itself had stopped. 

Ron was half in this daze, when the sudden snoring of RK snapped him back into the present time.  He peered over at RK, his lower body and torso on the couch, which his arms and chest dangled dangerously over the side.  Ron chuckled when he imagined RK rolling off the couch to the cold floor below, a rude awakening for any sleeper.

Sleep.  Ron couldn't sleep, not right now at least.  Something kept him awake, not an urgent or pressing feeling... but there was some feeling of anxiety.  He hoped that Koll and Darien found Arnaut alright.  They were good guys fellow troopers he met back at Basic Training... he knew he could rely on them.  But even with this reassurance, he still wasn't sure, something just didn't seem normal tonight.

Ron decided to busy himself on the datapad  He pulled out his briefcase that held it, and laid it out on the table.  He was glad that he decided to leave all his personal gear back in the apartment, including his guns, armor, and smokes.  Here he padded his bulging pants pocket that held four packs of the Lung-blasters. "Damn it's been too long." he sighed as he lit yet another smoke in his mouth. Ron powered up his datapad and pulled out the license to the "Timborlaaden."   After some quick typing and surfing, he accessed the Corellian online terminal for the docked ships.

"She's a pretty one." he remarked.  And she was.  Timborlaaden was a small smuggler's corvette, shaped round in the back and sides, and "w" shaped in the front.  She was equipped with heavy blaster turrets on both front V-shaped wings of the "w", had one large ion cannon mounted on the top, along with several smaller remote blasters underneith.  Her cargo could hold up to one third of its bulk mass ( a tremendous amount... although completely filling it would reduce its speed; to the point where long trips would be perillous)  And her charts were quite updated.  To finish her off, she had modern models for her hyperdrive and core units, with double circuit paths running through her shell in case of wire default.  "Oh yeah." Ron said in awe.  "Where the hell did Jak get his hands on this beauty?"  He honestly couldn't think of anyway that dumb old Jak could've gotten her.  But honestly... he really didn't care.

Ron was just getting into more sophisticated information, when suddenly Arnaut, Koll, Crowe, and a new stranger broke into the apartment.  The stranger was badly injured, and was bleeding in the leg.  Arnaut quickly said,

"Clear the table... we have to stop this bleeding before we do that..."  Ron quickly put all his gear away and helped to lift the stranger onto the table.  Arnaut ran into the kitchen and came out with some primitive first AID kit and immediately began to treat the wound.

"I wish they'd assign a Medic to this squad." Arnaut grumbled.

The man's wound was patched up, but the squad was by no means healed.  All four of the men suffered from some kind of wound, or mental anxiety.  Ron stirred RK into life, holding him back from falling off the couch, and giving the newly arrived room to sit.  Then Ron went in to fetch some beers and simple drinks to calm them down.  After a while of silence, RK ventured to ask:

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure." replied Arnaut.  "But I have a pretty good idea as to why we ran into them."

"Them?" RK asked.

"Yeah." Arnaut shuddered.  RK shrugged to Ron, but got no response.  Ron was busy looking viewing his datapad, in which the cam-log that was inserted in Kroh's helmet, was now servicing.

"Hey RK..." Ron said hesitantly as he looked into the entry... "You might want to have a look at this..."

RK winced at the thought, then stared back at the couch. “Well if that's the case.” RK grabbed a E-11 off the table and headed back for the couch. “Protected Sleep is safe sleep.”he probably saw those insects we fought earlier can't say I blame him. Darien thought as he sat the two blaster pistols he lifted from passer-by on the table and opened a can of beer. "What were those things, Koll?" Darien asked.I've never seen them on Corellia before he thought as he downed half of the beer.

"I have no idea what they were", said Koll as he took a swig of beer, "I don't want to ever have the luxury of finding out either." Same here Darien thought as he finished his beer. "Aw why not?" he asked Koll.

Koll looks at him disgustedly "you know why!" he exclaimed "do you?" he asked Darien. hell no Darien thought. Darien said, "Of course they would make great pets."

"Sorry to interupt your conversation but we have some business to discuss" said Arnaut as he walked over. "like what?" asked Darien. "Like where we are gonna go from here. "I still have some contacts in the city if you would like me to inquire with them." said Darien "well do that", said Arnaut "and Koll you go with him." "Hey Ron, do you know if the thieves faction here still active?" Darien asked.

"Sorry I don't know" said Ron as he and RK continued to look at the cam-log. "It doesn't matter I'll find out soon" Darien said as he prepared to leave. "Come on Koll let's go" Darien said.

As they were leaving the apartment they ran right into an old friend of Darien's named Varik. "What are you doing back on Corellia Darien?" Varik asked. "None of your business" said Darien, "but could you trake me to Bernard?" "YOu know he doesn't want to see you after what happened." said Varik, "but I will take the two of you to him if you want."

good old Varik still comes through for me Darien thought at Varik led them to the alley where Bernard was camped. "Long time no see Bernard" said Darien as he walked up to him. "How have you been?"
"I've been fine Darien what do you want?" Bernard snapped. "Just some information on a man named Albatross." said Darien. "I know nothing of Albatross save for his name" said Bernard. "Sorry to have bothered you then" Darien said as he and Koll turned to leave Bernard said, "fine fine I'll tell you what I know, just promise to get outta here and never come back." So Bernard told him about his friend on Ord Mantell, Kymeri who could tel them more.

It was raining, it was dark, and the temperature was beginning to drop.

 
  The Commando did not really notice any of this. He was fixated on the small starport the squad used to land and leave Tadath, and now it was being patrolled by Imperial Security Force personnal. His thought, as he kneeled in a patch of darkness in his stealth black kataran clone commando armor, it has been two days since he had heard the order to arrest all Wraith Squad personnal. Now, he was trying to get off planet, and find a way out of this mess. He could of given himself up, but in all likely hood he would of been killed in jail long before his squad got back with proof of their innocence.

  No, he thought, I am a Wraith, and they might need me. It's time to put that expensive training to the test.


    At this point his options were simple, get a ship, and get off planet. He would then worry about how he would contact the squad. Watching the patrolling men he was attempting to find a hole he could slip through and into one of his ships, but they would randomly change directions, so it was all luck. Slipping closer he saw a new ship he had ordered, a 03-K64 Firefly-class mid-bulk transport. It was the closest to him, so it would do. Moving slowly he made his way out from behind cover and into the night, he was waiting for one shot, just one to get into the open hatch of the ship.

  He stopped moving as a pair of men came up less then thirty yards from his current position. The lights they carried cut into the darkness, but with the rain he was still hidden, just a darker shadow in the mist.

  They moved off after a few moments, and he had his chance, he ran, silently and nearly collided with the inner bulkhead of his ship. Slapping the doorlock panel he began making his way to the cockpit he slid into the seat and engaged the engines for a cold start. Flipping various switches a soft thrum sounded around the ship as the twin external thrusters came to life and began providing the much needed lift for his shot at freedom.


  Alarms began sounding into the night as the patrolling men swung their lights at the ship as it began to take off, his comlink buzzed "You are ordered to land that ship and prepare for arrest, this is a direct order from high command."

  "Sorry," he muttered, "my squad needs me." His comlink was still engaged on receive only mode, so they heard nothing but the engines being engaged as he shot into the atmosphere and towards space.

  As the starfield went from blue to black he heard the order to launch the fighters to apprehend the fugitive. Flipping the switches for the nav-computer he waited for the green light and pulled back on the hyperdrive levers, the starfield expanded into hundreds of lines as the small transport shot into the unknown.

The asteroid was getting way to close.


      Joamer had been strapped to his seat for the past six hours, floating with minimal power outside what the computers called Er'Kit, in the Gircho Sector. He really did not know how the flyboys did it, day after day, only six hours in and he was ready to scream. Waiting for a signal he was blindly hoping would actually come was beginning to test his patience. He had a very old Wraith decoder running in hopes it would pick up the coded signal on the holonet. Now, he was in danger of being blown to small pieces by a vary large asteroid that looked like it wanted a piece of the old transport ship.

  A few hours earlier he had picked up communications from a nearby Imperial Star Destroyer, he got only fragments but they were hunting for the squad, the list of charges against him had begun growing. He was now in league with the destruction of the planet, and more then one hundred million deaths, and he had not even been there. To add to it, it now says he had kidnapped a governmental official and stolen a top-secret spacecraft when he made his escape. Luckily the ship passed him well out of range of the sensors, he doubted he could of outran one of those babies.

  "I never knew a forty year old frigate, commanded by a Imperial Officer was considered top-secret, let alone that I actually stole it, since they came to get me halfway through our bloody mission!" Joamer literally screamed in pure annoyance. He still could not figure the governmental official.

  "That mission was bad from the start, and it only got worse as it went down hill. We did not get a single moment to collect any of our gear, we got thrown in a ship and herded to one of the worst places in the galaxy, now I am being framed, we all were, and it makes me sick." he said to himself sometime later. The death of Derrond squad still made him angry, it had been over a month since he had seen his friends. All he could do was wait, and wait is what he did.


  Hours later, or days, he was not really sure anymore his comms board began blinking, the old decoder began buzzing and his heart had begun pumping a bit quicker.

  "223: ALL WRAITH, THIS MESSAGE IS FOR ALL FORMER AND CURRENT WRAITH TROOPERS IN THE IMPERIAL ARMY, WE ARE CALLING FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE. UPON THE PLANET CORELLIA WE ARE UNDER DIRE NEED OF ASSISTANCE IN THE TRACKING DOWN OF ENEMY NUMBER ONE. THIS MESSAGE IS BEING STREAMED OVER VARIOUS CHANNELS, SO IT WILL NOT BE REPEATED MORE THAN ONCE. CALLING ALL WRAITH, CALLING ALL FORMER AND CURRENT WRAITH TROOPERS TO CORELLIA!"

  Hitting the power board, he brought the maindrive back online and powered the engines again, this time doing a slower start than last time for the old girl. Hitting the navcom he turned the ship around and headed out of the system, trying to look just like another bit of floating debris. Though he seriously doubt anything that backwater planet had would even pick him up. Getting the green light on the board, he pulled the levers back and the ship streamed into hyperspace.

  Unlocking his harness he set auto-pilot and made his way to the cargo hold. Stripping out of his Commando armor he stowed it in a secret storage chamber just aft of the stairs, he also pulled out a bundle of clothes and got dressed. Black shirt, brown pants, a decent pair of work boots, and a long coat with sleeves, he also pulled out a pair of gloves and pulled them over his cybernetic hands that were still visible. Unhooking the sniper attachment of his DC-15 he slid the smaller barrel on it, then locked it on the harness on his back. Grabbing a few extra power cells for his pistol he slipped them into his pouch, and grabbed a single credchip.

  "Fifty thousand only," He muttered "Though I'm glad I have that."

  Shutting the cargo hatch he made his way back towards the bridge, the long coat hiding every detail that was once Joamer Resitlin, Commando of the Empire. Now he was just a simple transport captain, looking for new passengers, on one of the worst planets in the known galaxy.

  Mumbling something about scum and villainy he sat down in the seat and watched the stars stream by, the fun was just about to begin.

“....ke... u.p RK! W..ke UP!” RK could barely move, his eyes flicked open and then shut again. His body told him to stay asleep, but something else was waking him up, making it hard to even attempt stay asleep.

“Wha..what?” He struggled to again consciousness.

“Get up, you have to meet 'someone' at the spaceport, very soon.” Arnaut was standing above him, a cup of water in hand.

“As long as you promise not to pour that on me.”

“Fine, just get up and get going.”

RK slowly swung his legs over the side of the couch. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, hoping they would adjust faster, only they didn't.

As he stood up the blood rushed to his brain, making him almost stumble as he tried to take a step forward.

When he finally made it to the door, his eyes had fully focused. Hopefully he would be able to drive.

-_-_-_-_-Spaceport

RK brought the speeder down on the spaceport. It was a rough landing, after all he was still drowsy, even driving over here was a hassle, twice he almost wrecked.

He pulled himself out of the small cockpit and onto the platform. Sounds filled his ears; engines, metal hitting metal, and other sounds you would figure from a spaceport. Now I need a place to wait. He didn't know who he was supposed to meet here, but he knew it was a wraith.

RK went and sat down on a crate, it looked like it was put there to be a make-shift seat, after all it was faded from the sun and stained with food. as long as I don't have to wait to long.

It started to feel like hours sine he had landed, twice he had to slap himself to stay awake. A cou-ple of workers had even asked if he was drunk. Yea, I'm drunk, I'm a fugitive, and I'm drunk. It wasn't original of course.

AS he continued to wait, a few guards got into a hassle with each other, fighting over something about parking rights, or a shipment. Whatever it was, it was going to get nasty. Luckily, RK didn't have to worry about it, it wasn't his duty to split them up. He was tempted though to go and just split them up to keep himself busy. I hope whoever I'm waiting for hurries up, all I know is he's a chrome dome.

-_-_-_- 15 minutes later, standard-galactic-time

RK was starting to doze off again, his eyes were glazed over, and he could hear himself starting to snore. He continued to snooze off, his mind slipping off into sleep. Until he was abruptly woke up by the loud roar of engines, that sounded like they were right above him. 

He looked up to see a shadow start to cast over his position, and the outline of a Firefly-class mid bulk freighter. It was scary how close it was, but whoever was driving it knew what he/she was doing.

It continued to pass overhead and head for the only free space it would be able to set down at. RK had a feeling whoever he was supposed to be waiting for was driving it. He waited for the ship to fully touch down before he made his way over, even if he was wrong on who was driving it; it wasn't going to hurt to check.

RK started his way over. He hadn't expected to see something this big. whatever works. As he got closer, he saw the entrance ramp start to open with a slight hiss. As it continued to open a man stood in the door way. Hid bald hair was clearly visible, as well as the gloves that concealed his hands. that's him alright.