Friday, 06 June 2008

• Star Wars Galaxies: The Turning of the Tide

  Chapter 14

  Priest sat in his quarters cleaning his carbine, triple checking the action for any foreign debris. Though clunky and unhandy in close quarters battle, Xavier preferred the larger and more formidable weapons like, rocket launchers, flame throwers, heavy rifles. Priest could remember as children Xavier’s eyes lighting up every time something exploded, most of the time by his causation. Now he had made it a lifestyle. The explosions and pyrotechnics were always a little to noisy for Priest, who preferred a more delicate and surgical approach. Carbines, however, were such a symphonic weapon. Just the right size, accurate, and quick firing, they allowed the user the ability to find cover, as well as the ease of shooting on the run. In addition to that, concealing the weapon was almost as easy as a blaster pistol. This particular slug thrower was given to him for a job that he did for Lord Nym on Lok, and it was a one in a million gun. The Worsher- wood stock flowed artfully into the grey metal of the workings of the gun. Unlike conventional blaster weapons, this weapon shot projectiles that were propelled by a gas-propelled shell. It was a thing of beauty, and was deadly in a firefight.

  He had almost finished removing the firing pin when Lola burst into his quarters. She was covered in sweat and grime. Her arms were covered in hyperdrive coolant and her mid section laid bare several raised cuts that indicated that she had spent better part of the day hunkered in a crawlspace somewhere.

  “What the frak is going on, Priest? Your friends promised Wojec that you would bring the merchandise back! That is the whole reason we fixed the Krayt Pearl, Now you’re backing out on our deal? What gives you the right?”

  Priest stood as she crossed the room to him, driving her points home with a pointed finger. Priest looked at her for a second, and without much thought grabbed her arms and held them down at her sides and bent to her level, locking her in a kiss. He half expected her to pull away, he half expected her to slap him. He was half right.

  Though she didn’t pull away immediately, her swift right hand caught him square across his left cheek.

  “What was that for?” Priest exclaimed as the welt pulsed with heat.

  “What do you think, nimrod? You think I just go around kissing random guys?”

  Priest smiled, “Well…yeah. You see, I figure that you kissed me on Naboo to keep us out of danger; I thought the tactic could work here as well.”

  Lola looked at him, somewhat shocked…but not really. “Look, that was different, there were people there, and we would have been recognized. I was doing it to keep our cover from being blown”

  “There are people here too that recognize you…and they wish that you’d just leave.” Xavier said, sitting up from his cot across the chamber, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

  Lola started, “what are you doing here?”

  Xavier groaned as he rolled out of the bunk, his hair all matted to one side of his face. “This is my room, after all.” He said, motioning from one side to the other. “I was sleeping and...well, having a very vibrant dream about a very attractive Twi’lek dancer; we’ll just leave it at that. Seriously, what are you two going to do? Are you going to yell at him more, kiss him back or leave? Preferably, whatever you decide will happen not here, so I can get back to my already abbreviated sleep.”

  If stares were lasers, hers would have been the Death Star.

  Rolling his eyes, Xavier kicked his feet to the floor, shivering as the cold metal deck plate made contact with his skin. “Then I think I’ll head to the lounge, you know…where people are supposed to sleep. Acceleration couches make great beds. I’ll see if Exe makes caf, since it seems like I’m going to be up for a while.”

  Xavier grabbed his blanket and pillow and strode half naked out into the hallway, shutting the hatch behind him. Lola turned back to Priest, returning her blazing glare that actually froze his heart. “As I was saying what do you think you’re doing?” she said, still flustered.

  Priest sat back down in his seat, nursing his sore cheek, and looking pathetic and hurt. “We’d love to ask Wojec, but we can’t risk a hyperlink, Ghost may be dysfunctional, but they can find what they’re looking for; and I don’t believe for a moment that they’ve given up. We have to make the best decision possible. When the droid has the ability to single handedly kill us all…priorities change. I’m sure that Wojec would rather us take care of his sister, than try to incapacitate an advanced droid such as that.”

  Lola, dropping all pretenses and guards suddenly looked her age again. “Look, I know that…its just; the buyer for that item is not going to say no very easily. We were selling it to pay someone who is threatening to reveal the fact that Wojec is a Jedi. If Wojec’s connection with the force is revealed, the Empire’s Inquisitors will find and kill him.”

  “Wojec can handle himself. I would hate to be the inquisitor sent to rein him in. Remember, the last time someone chased Wojec…he ended up marrying her and I don’t think Le’lei would appreciate anyone else marking her bounty.” Priest joked. Lola let out a half forced laugh. Worry crept across her face, saddening Priest but making her no less beautiful. She was, in many ways the same girl she was ten years ago…and yet she was completely different. Priest stood and put his arm around, hiding her tears from the chaotic light show of hyperspace.

  ---

  Xavier was awakened for the second time in a standard hour by rustling in the galley. Jackson wearing nothing but his deck shorts was attempting to fry what looked like a voritor egg. Though the lizards grew to be several meters in length and were poisonous, Dantooinian people found them a delicacy; however repugnant the smell might be to offworlders. Currently Jackson seemed to be destroying it, if it were even possible.

  “Do you mind, I’m trying to sleep here.” Xavier said as he rolled over, adjusting his position on the worn hyper couch.

  Jackson pulled a flask from his pocket and took a swig. The way that his face contorted after the swig suggested that whatever was in the flask was previously used to clean the inside of the engine nacelle. He shook the flask investigatively before he poured the rest of the liquid over the egg he was cooking.

  Once the alcohol touched the pan it caught fire. Green flames licked out of the pan, flaring up almost a quarter of a meter out of the pan. Jackson grabbed the handle with his good arm, and with surprising dexterity was able to flip the egg without breaking the tough blue yoke in the middle. He grabbed a flavor spice grinder as well as a salt mill and seasoned the burning meal. Even though the egg smelled like an ugnaughts armpit, Xavier had to admit it did make him somewhat hungry.

  Jackson, still focused on cooking the egg didn’t even turn to look at Xavier. “Bud, I don’t really care what your schedule is on, but its breakfast time for me. I have to get to work on cleaning up the mess that Lola’s friends made of my ship. Have you seen it back there? The weapons systems are wired like a Life Day tree. Exe is trying to help me fix the tracking gyros, but they’re still a little off. If I don’t get up and take care of this before we reach Kashyyyk, then we might just have some trouble.”

  Xavier looked at the chronometer- four standard hours from Galactic day start, and only four hours since he had laid down for what was to be a long restful night. They weren’t scheduled for Kashyyyk ground fall for another six hours. Resigning himself to a day of drowsiness, he got up and entered the galley with Jackson.

  “That looks…interesting.” How does it taste?” Jackson smiled and pulled a fork from the utensil basin and cut a bit of the egg out. “Here you go. Careful…it’s hot.”

  Xavier took the bite and immediately was hit by the powerful spice that filled his nasal cavity, and nearly cut off all the circulation to his brain. The thing didn’t just smell like an ugnaugts armpit, it tasted like something far less hygienic. Xaiver’s eyes bulged out of his head and he reached for a glass of water. He managed to choke down the bite of egg before he chugged the entire glass, spilling a good portion down the front of his shirt. The water did little to ease the fire, he could feel the spicy burn causing his eyes and nose to begin watering. His mouth became numb and he bent over in hacking coughs that he swore spit fire. He felt like the mythical flying Krayt, spewing flames from his mouth and nostrils.

  Jackson watched with great interest. “That good, huh? Usually people pass out the first time they try it. I’m impressed.”

  After Xavier straightened himself up he wiped his nose and eyes and looked directly back at Jackson. “I don’t know how your people ever became spacefarers. That is one of the most disgusting things I have ever eaten!”

  Jackson fished the egg out of the pan onto a plate and handed it to Xavier. “do you want the rest of this? I have another.”

  “Of course,” Xavier said, grabbing the egg and heading back to the acceleration couch, “I’m not letting a stupid egg beat me.”

  ---

  Rohedria waited for the timer to tick to zero before she reversed the levers on the drive, kicking the Krayt Pearl from the maelstrom of hyperspace to the normal star blotted sky of real space. Kashyyyk was an interned world, held captive by the Empire who used the large sentient natives called Wookiees as slaves. Despite this the space lanes were filled with ships of all sizes. Rohedria checked and double checked her transponder, noting the false readout that was being transmitted: “S’hissis Folly.” This was a ship that had a similar build and just happened to be a Trandoshan slave trade vessel. It would have clearance to land at Karchico Starport…if a starport it really could be called. With a chuckle she added a post script to her thought that even if she came in blaring the Krayt’s authentic transponder, not much would happen. It wasn’t as if her crew had any sort of notoriety.

  The landscape of Kashyyyk had long since been lost to the Giant Worshyr trees that covered the majority of the landscape. The highly sentient Wookiees built massive structures in the trees far above the violently feral nature of the shadowlands. Only trained hunters and those on the rite of passage ventured below the canopy. Down there, somewhere, was a rebel base that Anthorin needed to get to. Once they had his fare complete, the crew would be one step back to the path that they had set out on.

  “Transport 1323, S’hissis Folly we have your identity codes, please transition to holding pattern Alpha 1124 and await docking clearance. Karchico starport, out.” Rohedria breathed a sigh of relief, and then immediately wondered why she did. It always seemed that if something went easily…that just meant that she had something horrible to look forward to.

  The bridge hatch hissed open and Priest walked in. His normal baggy street clothes had been replaced by a set of dark red RIS body armor. The armor was patterned after a sect of ancient swordsmen from some obscure world. They were long since eradicated, however they still had certain influences on modern warfare. This armor was hermetically sealed and utilized an oxygen processor to keep the wearer alive, even in the harshest environments. The wide scooping helmet, when finally attached to the armor bent across his brow, making it look like he was wearing some sort of broad sun visor. The breastplate was a heavy plate armor that bore a small cluster of sensor equipment that routed information directly to the heads up display built into the helmet. The biceps and bracers of the armor had attached deflective plates that were also sharpened to a razor finish that not only deflected blaster bolts, but could be used in lieu of a melee weapon. The skirt of the armor completed the ensemble, being primarily to hide the legs of the wearer from shots intended to take out the knees, and secondarily for decoration. There were many places in the Galaxy that subtlety was important; this was not one of them. It was a dangerous and deadly planet, and they were headed deep into the heart of it. It was always best to be prepared. Priest pressed a small pad on the inside of his right forearm starting a chain of small clicks as the armors seals engaged and the tiny servomotors for movement assistance came to life.

  He plopped the helmet down into the operations chair and took the copilot’s seat. Rohedria understood the need for the protection, but the encumbrance of armor would simply slow a Jedi down, however as the green ball of Kashyyyk grew in the viewport, the sickly feeling in her gut made her wish that her decision to train with the force came and not so high a price.

  • 2:02 PM
  • 131 Views
  • 4 eProps
  • 2 Comments