A Slippery Road of Good Intentions

[nefertiti]

A Slippery Road of Good Intentions ....

[nefertiti]

Summary :
Our story begins among the scum of the fringe elements, the outer rim, about the same time as the rebels are being chased off of the ice ball known as Hoth…this is a prelude type thing to establish why this character is who and what she is.

Star Wars is Lucas property, yada yada yada (full disclaimer, I own none of this galaxy) I may have a fact or two about cybernetics wrong, which I’ll be happy to edit if so. Constructive comments are always welcome. Warning it's fairly long 8)




A Slippery Road of Good Intentions


Waking up in a pristine gleaming medical ward was only slightly better than waking in a bacta tank. She wasn’t sure how she knew this, but she knew it to be true. Sounds and sights flooded into her perceptions so fast she felt as if she were a ship hurling itself towards hyperspace. Calm down, slow down, focus on a little bit at a time came her father’s voice in the back of her mind. The young woman began slowing her breathing, wiggling her fingers and toes, then hands and feet slowly moving each part of her body as she tried to gain control over the flood of information coursing through her mind.

She tried to remember what had put her in a medical ward, but just encountered a foggy haze of images. Nothing came to mind, from the little she knew of medicine that likely meant she had received extensive and traumatic injuries. She shook her head trying to rid herself of a buzzing in a corner of her mind, as crazy as the thought was she felt like she was listening to a diagnostics reports in binary. “Maybe I do not want to know,” she croaked, eyes widening at the sounds coming from her throat. She’d always had a sort of low scratchy voice that sounded like a whisper even when she spoke loudly; right now she sounded like a bluff-raven coughing. It was the sound of a voice that had gone unused for a long time, rubbing her throat with her left hand she continued to slowly process her surroundings.

Warm brown eyes glanced around the ward; everything was white, or polished stainless steel, or crystal clear glass. State of the art equipment lined the walls, though the only things hooked to her were a couple of monitors tracking her vitals. It seemed like there were more than needed, but she knew little of the medical arts. The air in the room was just short of cold, and full of the aroma of bacta and antiseptics. As usual in these settings, and the lights fairly bright without being blinding. Izrafel slowly sat up on the bed to look around. No window to the outside, two doors and a small wardrobe were the only non-medical items lining the walls. One of those doors was open, leading to a private refresher station, the other she presumed lead into whatever building she was in.

Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed she felt decidedly odd, and not only because all of her senses seemed to be running at hyperspace speeds. Her body felt heavier than it should; yet at the same time she felt better than she could ever remembering feeling. Maybe she was on a world with heavier than standard gravity, plenty of those in the galaxy she mused. A gust of wind moved the fine hairs on her arms she turned on her seat to face the door just starting to open while her mind screamed she should not have noticed such a minor change in the room’s air pressure. The patient’s left hand came up to hold her temple as she tried to make sense of all these odd feelings and sensations. Two droids walked into the room, both polished and gleaming to match everything else her eyes could see. Out in the hallway she spotted a few other MD series droids, several humans as well as a grab bag of aliens she was to confused to attempt sorting out. Nothing in that one quick peek to tell her where she might be, other than a medical facility. The MD-0, painted a bright cheerful blue with silver trim led the MD-4 who was a gleaming brass with red and blue trim as they approached her bed. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled the 4 series were micro surgeons and butterflies began dancing in her belly.

A couple of sensors popped out of the MD-0 it reached out with metallic hands to grasp her jaw, turning her head back and forth then up while it shined a light into her eyes. “All vitals within normal parameters of subject species, all subsystems functioning at optimal levels.” Cold steel fingers released their grip on her jaw and she just barely resisted the erg to reach up and rub the spot. The sensors slid back into their recessed slots and the MD-0 stepped back a pace “how is the patient feeling, any discomfort, or lack of control of motor skills? Perhaps we should order a standard series of tests…” as it spoke it removed the handful of sensor probes connecting her to the machines around her.

Izrafel cut the droid off “my throat is dry and raw, and I feel I need to exercise. I do not know how long I have been in here but I have been still for far to long.” She wanted to leap off the bed and start running laps, or practice hand to hand, or race her custom swoop through the forest. “Where am I and how long have I been here” she asked deciding those were her two most important questions, for now.

“You are on Sluis Van. You have been under our care for two standard months” the droid answered in their non-emotional tones. “I recommend making use of the refresher station. You have a guest arriving in thirty minutes, he will be more able to answer your questions” the droid turned and pointed to the wardrobe “your associates left some of your belongings, things they said would make you feel more comfortable. Please do not discharge any weapons within the medical wing.”

Izrafel smiled at the MD-0 shaking her head “No I will not shoot anything. A guest you say. Well I do want to look my best for a guest. Please go about your other duties and inform who ever is in charge around here that I am ready to leave as soon as I can get a ride off this dirtball.” She rose from the bed and moved across the room with the overly careful steps of one who has been long off their feet. Her mind skittered away from thinking about the sort of injuries that would take months to recover from, given she wasn’t allergic to bacta.

While knowing she should feel weak as a newborn kitten from spending so long off her feet, she in fact felt as if she could leap over the building she was standing in. Her body felt stronger, her senses sharper, clearer than ever before, she almost felt she could count the oxygen molecules flowing into her lungs with every breath she took. There did seem to be an insistent buzzing in the back of her mind, but she shrugged that off as the lingering effects of whatever they’d used to keep her under. The pair of droids just stood there looking at her for a handful of seconds, then turned and left the small room without further comment. Izrafel’s warm brown eyes seemed stuck on the door for a few seconds before she shook her head and turned to the wardrobe curious to see what had been left for her by her friends.

Even that was something of a problem to her racing mind, she could pull up all sorts of memories of these friends, more family than friends, despite most of them being non-human, however there was no emotion of any sort attached to any of the memories. Whistler, the Shashay, Scraps the cobbled together droid who’d been a guardian for most of her life, or Maze Ak’Tor the huge Coynite gladiator turned mercenary. People she had known most of her life, yet there was as little emotion attached to the memories, as there would be if she was reading a data file about strangers. Opening the wardrobe her eyes did a quick inventory of clothes and equipment even while her mind still worked on gathering some bearings. Three dresses, from casual to formal hung next to a pair of surplus Tie pilot’s black over alls stripped of unit patches. There were also a few suits of civilian clothes, a loose flowing blouse and pants suitable to lower Coruscant and a snugger fitting outfit of Corrillian design. Even her brother, flesh and blood, she could not summon any emotions for Ryzen, just a list of facts cold and impersonal. Tears of relief and confusion leaked from her eyes as she summoned thoughts of her father, she could feel love and a sense of safety and stability as she thought of the crusty, gruff speaking mercenary. She had his eyes, so everyone said, and she had inherited his love of tinkering on everything from speeders to droids to starship engines. For the last five years, minus the time I’ve spent here, she and Gadgets had been in charge of not only repairing and maintaining the group’s equipment, but also for security of their property, such as it was. A second emotion touched her at that moment, pride in the trust given to her and Gadgets. Not much, but better than feeling like a droid with no emotions of any sort. On the lowest shelf there was foot wear to match the clothing, delicate slippers to sturdy service boots.

[nefertiti]

Her Defender hung in its shoulder holster and the 434 Death Hammer ready to be tied to her left leg was holstered on a wide leather belt. If things were packed as usual, and a quick peek into the largest of the belt pouches proved they were, she also had a small assortment of explosives. Her Lightfoil from the Tapani Sector and the Neuronic whip she’d taken from a Trandoshan slaver was also attached to the death hammer’s belt. Her left hand reached out to touch the Lightfoil, though not exactly outlawed; it was a weapon to draw unwanted Imperial attentions. Still she’d earned the weapon serving the saber rakes, though the details were fuzzy at the moment. Shaking her head she let her hand fall from the elegant if not efficient weapon, her whole past was fuzzy right now. A small case held a set of ID chips, licensees for the weapons she carried, the keys to her swoop, and a pile of credits. Her ID claimed she was a security agent for the Uwanna Corporation, which was just one of many fronts for the Tenloss Syndicate.

Her friends had left her fairly well supplied, she pulled one of the surplus Tie-fighter uniforms from the wardrobe, she started to turn away, then reached back in and snatched the defender from it’s holster before retreating to the refresher station. She stripped out the silly gown they put on wounded folks and set the unit’s cleansing station on a fifteen-minute cycle. Twice she reached over to dial up the fluid temperature as jets of water and cleaning agents scrubbed her body from head to toe. Next came several minutes of cool air to dry her off, she climbed into the pilot overalls and went back into the room. Back at the wardrobe she strapped on the Death hammer, with the other weapons dangling from the belt and spent a moment adjusting things to ride comfortably. Then she strapped on the shoulder holster and tucked the Defender back into his customary riding spot. Pulling out the knee-high bantha hide boots and some socks she went back to the bed to sit down and put them on.

The door to her room opened again and the MD-0 came in with Scraps following. Most of the droid was an old Duelist Elite combat droid that had been used by some Jedi in their light saber training. The droids head, and much of it’s programming had been changed though. Scraps sported an old V1 clam shaped head with glowing eyes halfway hidden by the split in his head housing them. He had a V1’s hands with multi jointed extra long fingers, great from spreading across starships control surfaces, and handling a wide variety of weapons. The droid carried a pair of carbines, one on each leg, and was quite deadly in a firefight, a cunning fighter with a learning matrix to adapt to opponents styles. Handy in a droid cobbled together to act as a guard for a frightened man’s family. Scraps was a good pilot too, and she knew he’d saved her and her families lives more than once. She also knew she’d spent many hours rebuilding things when he took damage, none of the memories brought about any emotion, other than relief she wasn’t alone on the planet.

A Sluissi came slithering in behind the pair of droids; more or less humanoid from the waist up they had the lower body of a large snake, moving around on their tails. She never cared much for them, but they had excellent shipyards and her father had a few connections with powerful people in the sector. The snake man gave her a carefully guarded smile “good afternoon Izrafel, I am told you have made a remarkable and complete recovery. I am doctor Massasauga in charge of the Sluissi Cybernetic Research Center. I am sure you have many questions, including what happened to you, and what has been done to you here in our facility. First let me state that everything done here by us was done on your father’s orders and all in the name of saving your life,” he told her with an unblinking gaze she found uncomfortable to hold.

Izrafel’s face paled and her stomach seemed to fold in on itself when the word Cybernetic was spoken, still she had been raised to be courteous “I am grateful for all your help doctor, really I...”

Massasauga cut her off raising his right hand between them “Please, let me finish, your father warned us of your impatience.” He held the pause long enough to believe she would let him finish speaking, then gave a brief nod as he continued “I will explain the nature of your wounds and what we’ve done to get you back on your feet” his right hand waved to the silent clam head droid “Scraps will tell you how the injuries happened.”

His hands went behind his back and he began slithering back and forth across the floor, much like a being with legs would pace “beyond the normal damage seen from combat you were suffering from the effects of an exotic biochemical agent, we believe but are not certain it was a mixture of toxins rather than a single agent. This chemical attacked your nervous system, muscle and skeletal structure along with portions of your brain. Bacta served well for neutralizing the chemical, but extensive damage had already been done by the time you came to be in our care. Your father insisted we do everything we could do to keep you alive, and capable of living a normal life, this we have done.

“We began with a cardio-muscular package while repairing damage to your heart, lungs and muscle structure. Giving you a BioTech skeletal reinforcement system followed this. We more or less rebuilt your deteriorating bone structure with unique polymers and alloys for strength, stability and protection. There had been some debate over the priority of procedures but sound medical facts supported starting with the CMP.”

Izrafel sat on the edge of the bed, one foot bare and a sock dangling from her frozen hands. The slithering doctor went on to tell about the Hifold sensory package from NeuroSaav Corporation, which enhanced her perceptions. Something called a RiMPack that was more or less an artificial nervous system with a bio-interface. That system explained her feeling the air move when the door across the room opened. A Vessel Drive and Swift 78A had been crammed into her head to replace the portions of her brain that held memories and knowledge. Her right hand went up to touch her head, all of it was hidden, and to a visual inspection she was a typical human female. They had modified the RiMPack adding a filter that defused the sensory load in an attempt to patch a problem of some patients becoming irrationally paranoid with the all the information their minds were processing. The young woman sat in stunned silence as the Sluissi went on.

[nefertiti]

“Of course, the need for the vessel drive gave us the room to add the filter program. At your father’s request we added a limited translation program that you can modify as needed.” He paused in his version of pacing and again lock an uncomfortable gaze on her “ I know I am giving you a lot of information, and much of it shocking I am sure. The staff felt such a radical set of operations were immoral, that mercy demanded you be allowed to die. Your father has some powerful friends here, and it was his desperate wish for you to live.”

He frowned pausing again giving her the impression he was one of those who thought she should have died cleanly. Looking down she saw she was still holding a sock and only one boot on, she made her hands go through the motions of finishing dressing while her eyes kept staring at her hands. They look like they always have. I look the same in the mirror, except my hair is longer…

“You can access these systems built into your head by focusing your thoughts on them. The sensory system filter is adjustable we have a default setting of thirty five percent increase; you can dial the system up or down as you wish.” Doctor Massasauga went back to slithering back and forth once she started showing some sign of life. “For the rest you will be given instructions on use and maintenance of the systems. Your father’s benefactor has included a full staff of medical droids, one of which has been programmed to diagnose and repair the systems you have been given. We loaded you up with the technical knowledge you had on small arms, security systems, and mechanics” he stopped his pacing again to stare at her.

“ I dare say you will find you have gained much in those departments,” he told her stroking his chin in a thoughtful manner with his head cocked to the right slightly. “Now, please ask what you will, I will answer as best I can, once you are done with me and questions about what was done I will leave you with your friend there” he waved again at Scraps standing with his long arms folded across his chest glowing red eyes staring unblinking at her “Who will tell you how these things happened to you and presumably who did it. Those are things we have no desire of knowing.”

Izrafel shook her head, her mind, and the computer in her head going over the information she’d just been given. Color slowly rose in her face as she became angry she surged to her feet. “You turned me into a kirfing droid” she yelled at him “why would my father do this to me.” Her hot brown eyes went from the snake man to the silent droid behind him “Why did my father do this to me Scraps, why” a small pain her left hand made her glance down to see she had a white knuckled grip on the heavy blaster dangling from her hip. With a concentrated effort she slowly uncurled her fingers from the comfortable grips of the 434.


Doctor Massasauga stood very still except for slowly shaking his head “It may seem that way, but your body is still predominately biological in nature, as is your mind. Your heart, and mind are more or less the same. You have lost most of your memory, some of it will come back over time, some will not." The reptilian man gave a shrug of his shoulders and went on " You still have emotions; you are far more human than any droid. Your reaction is exactly the reason most of us felt it was unjust for us to perform the operations.”

“I am not human anymore” the young woman replied in hot tones “I have a computer in my head and electronics help me see, hear and even move, if I understand you correctly. I am at least half droid.”

Scraps spoke in a gruff yet gentle tone “actually Mistress Izrafel your body is still seventy-seven percent biological, twenty-three percent cybernetic. I prefer to think of all of this as you have had several subsystems upgraded. You have often said you wished humans could be upgraded and fixed like droids, this is what has been done, repair and upgrades. I would like a Hifold sensory package myself, but I am told they do not work for my kind.”

Izrafel’s lips curled into a smirk “isn’t it unethical for medics to do this kind of thing without a patients consent.”

The Sluissi nod his head with a blank expression on his face “It is both unethical and illegal in most systems in the galaxy. Unfortunately, Xaivyar can be” he paused letting his eyes run around the room for a moment before coming to rest on the darkly pretty human female “ very persuasive. The staff was given the choice of doing as asked or ending up needing more cybernetics than you received.”

Izrafel’s eyes narrowed to slits and her left hand brushed the grips of the 434 again “I can see the appeal in doing that sort of damage around here myself, right now.”

The doctor nodded as if he expected nothing else “of course you could, and might yet” he paused and cocked his head to the right slightly “tell me though what that would accomplish. You will still be a cybernetic enhanced human, your family would have an even larger debt and Xaivyar would have half the bounty hunters in the sector hunting you.”

“It would make me feel much better” the human retorted “it would insure you and this place could not turn someone else into…” she paused with a look of thought and confusion on her pretty face “whatever I have become.” Izrafel went on at some length venting her anger about what was done to her. The doctor stood listening not letting her anger really touch him, he even nodded in agreement several times and twice told her he would likely feel much the same if he’d gone through what she had. After about fifteen minutes she began to run down her words focused again on justice and how unfair it was.

“That is enough, Mistress Izrafel. You dishonor your father, what we have tried to teach you, and yourself” the old Duelist Elite spoke calmly unfolding an arm to shake a finger at his charge. “ Life is rarely fair. All this talk of vengeances and fairness is beneath you. If I shut down my visual sensors I could believe I was in the room with your hot head brother” ignoring the young woman and her expression of surprise at being interrupted and admonished the old cobbled together droid moved his arm to point at the door. “I believe you can leave now, Doctor. We will not damage any property. The droid paused glancing to the patient then back to the Doctor and MDO droid “I thank you for all you have done on this human’s behalf. I am sure once the shock of it all wears off she too shall feel gratitude. Mistress Izrafel will begin rehab and training in the morning.”

The Doctor nodded and offered both a small bow “perhaps she will, Xaivyar will be so informed within the hour. Please tell your master that while we enjoy doing business with him, we hope he does not again soon need this facilities capabilities.” Scraps nodded to the Sluissi who then turned and silently slithered out of the room followed by the MDO.

The old duelist elite walked over and laid a long fingered hand on her shoulder causing her to look up from the floor with tears in her eyes. “Your outrage and now your tears confirm you are still human mistress Izrafel. I have a message for you from master Inari explaining…all this as best he could. The rest of the family misses you, even your brother, though he speaks of it rarely. I have the ship here to take you to our new home, I think you will like it.”

Tears leaked freely down the young woman’s face; the droid had been programmed with her father’s gruff voice, a small comfort to children who spent more time with the droid and aliens than their flesh and blood father. Indeed she loved the droid as much as her brother, if not as much as daddy. “I am sorry for what I said Scraps, there is nothing wrong with most the droids I know in this galaxy.”

The duelist elite stepped back and cocked his head at her “I took no offence mistress Izrafel, I might have an outburst if I were to wake up with biological parts grafted to me.” He made a show of waving his long arms and flexing the long multi-jointed fingers on his hands. When she was ten years old she had convinced the droid to allow her to add a comedy matrix to his limited protocol programming, the only problem was it wasn’t a very good program.

She could not help laughing even though tears still flowed freely from her eyes “dammit why can’t I stop crying.”

The droid stopped his antics and let his arms hang limp at his sides “they said you might suffer shock when you were informed of the modifications made to your body. A few tears are a mild reaction considering they expected to have to treat you for shock. Your family is tough, physically and mentally. Do you wish to hear his Master Dagon’s message now” he asked.

Shaking her head she turned back towards the refresher station “sure just give me a few minutes…” she did not wait for an answer, knowing the droid would do as asked, closing the door she turned on the water but spent the first minute just staring into her own eyes in the mirror who are you, what are you… My name is Izrafel Inari; daughter of Dagon and Iszabela Inari of Chandrella my older brother is Ryzen Inari… Something told her that answer to what was going to be a long time in coming so she pushed it from her mind and began splashing water on her face. There were a great many things she was going to talk to her father about, at length….

[nefertiti]

Izrafel sat up among the tangled sheets and glanced around the room, it was the dream again, the nightmare of first waking up in the Sluissi Cybernetic Center. With her heart pounding in her chest she rose from the bed moved to the suites small kitchenette and started a fresh pot of caf. Between the computerized portions of her mind and sheer will power she stopped her hands from shaking and slowed her heart rate back down to a normal level.

Izrafel allowed her self a few moments of self-pity as she moved around the small suite. Plagued by the recurring nightmare of awakening in the room and discovering her new truth in life, the young human thought it grossly unfair that the computers hooked to her brain could do so much, yet nothing in them could stop her nightmares. Why was she able to retain such clear and strong memories of that day several months ago, when she could barely recall anything of her companions, her family? She was learning everything they put in front of her; she had regained all her agility, and then some. Indeed her body was nearly twice as strong as it had been, her reflexes much sharper and quicker. Yet like a child, she was haunted by bad dreams. Shaking her head and realizing she was wasting time the young woman walked to the small refresher station in the corner of the suite.

Today was the day, after nearly a year of Rehab and ‘integration sessions’ as the doctors called the lessons she was ready to leave. Hot water pelted her in a pattern intended to massage the muscles, her hyper active nervous system counted each of the droplets as they hit her, but the computers built into her head processed the information, as they did so much else for her. She was aware of the number just as she was aware the cleansing fluids were five percent hotter than her body temperature. She reached out and dialed the temperature up a little and just let the heat and pounding penetrate to her bones.

Reinforced bones, that was, like thirty percent of her body, cybernetic implants and ‘upgrades’ as the doctors and techs referred to all the things they’d done to her. Her medical charts now looked like a cybernetic clinic’s options list. She had spotty memories but could recall little of her life before waking up in the Sluissi Cybernetic Institute, though oddly she had seemed to retain much of her technical skills. It had been explained to her that her injuries were so sever, so traumatic, that her father’s only options for keeping his daughter alive were allow them to her turn her into nearly half robot, or take a sample to the Cloners. Dagon Inari chose to allow the doctors to rebuild her. Her nervous system had been rebuilt, as was her skeleton system, her heart and lungs were also reinforced with biotechnology. They even crammed a couple of pieces of cyborg technology directly into her head, filling a portion of her skull where portions of her brain had been destroyed.

The only visible sign of all of this extra equipment was a small port so the systems could be wired into a computer system, even that was hidden behind her right ear. Of course all these upgrades would trigger sensors, but her medical file would make even Imperial Stormtroopers flinch. She doubted anyone would even ask how she’d been injured. The refresher cycled down and she stepped out to towel off, the smell of fresh brewed caf filled the small suite as she dressed in a simple black jumpsuit that screamed surplus tie pilot uniform.

A gun belt went around her waist with a Deathammer 434 slug low tied to her left leg in gunslinger fashion. One of the heaviest handguns in the galaxy, it was almost to much for her, or had been, requiring both hands to keep the weapon under control. Still the psychological effect of the 434 was well worth the weight, and workout. Next she slipped into a shoulder harness that carried a slender deadly sporting pistol under her right arm. It seemed like a lot of hardware, yet it was only a portion of what she used to carry before landing in a cybernetic medical ward. She left the more exotic weapons in the wardrobe knowing she’d have little need for them, and they would draw unwanted attention outside of the medical compound.

Grabbing a mug of caf from the small kitchenette built into one corner of the suite she moved to the sitting room and flipped on the holo-projector to listen, once again to the message from her father. It had arrived months ago, and she watched it morning and night. Scraps one of the family’s droids had arrived at the institute with the message, a bundle of her personal possessions and files on the family’s activities. She was as close to back to normal as modern medical technology could make her and it was time to get back to the not so normal life her odd family led.

Bodyguards for bosses of the Tenloss syndicate, a crime gang that had interests spanning the outer rim. They were neither hired guns, nor simple mercenaries, instead they were security and defense specialists, they dabbled in espionage from time to time as well. Her father insisted there were differences between being evil and doing evil things, and defending the life of said evildoer. To her mind there wasn’t much difference, but she’d learned at an early age to not argue with papa.

The projector shot out it’s blue tinged image of a somewhat scruffy looking man, tall and strong with large brown eyes that were both hard and filled with concern. He wore a gray jumpsuit much like the black one she wore, and leaned against a military issue speeder bike. Dagon was unarmed when he recorded the message, as usual. Dagon Inari was one of those warriors who could and would fight nearly as well as a storm trooper, yet he went unarmed as much as possible. As if not keeping a weapon close somehow insulated him from the violent life he led. He held a battered looking stainless steel mug in his hand, knowing her father it was full of the sweet drink called chocolate.

“Good morning echo” the recording began, he called her echo because other than her eyes she was nearly a mirror image of her mother. "I am sorry I could not be there when you woke up; Xaivyar charged me a fortune for the medical attention you’ve received, so I am busy fulfilling contracts. We lost a lot of good people in the attack that landed you in the cybernetic ward. There is some argument as to whether you were lucky to survive or not, considering the damage done to you and the extreme surgeries necessary to keeping you alive. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me” pain and weariness clouded his features, his hand trembled slightly as he brought the mug up to take a sip of his chocolate. “It’s amazing how clear hide sight can be. I thought we could hide from the civil war tearing the galaxy apart, I was sure I could protect my family from the slime we mingled with in order to hide from Palpantine and his new order. My brother had connections, we slipped away from Coruscant and disappeared into the fringe.” Dagon shook his head “I doubt there is a safe place left in the galaxy these days, unless you go into the deep core and consign yourself to the Empire’s rule.

I’ve always done the best I could to provide for my family, some of the things I’ve done have proven to not be as wise as they first appeared. I guess how you and Ryzen conduct yourselves will be the truest judge of my skills and efforts as a parent. Trust the family and watch your back, the syndicate has a lethal way of taking care of loose ends. If I fail, if we fail in fulfilling the current contracts with Xaivyar I have a feeling we will be the next set if prizes the bounty hunters seek.”

Dagon paused again looking as tired as a human could get, a touch of fear shined in her father’s eyes, the only time she’d witnessed such emotion in the man. He shook his head as if trying to eliminate nightmarish images; his brown eyes said he was not successful in that effort. “There are things I want you to know that I cannot trust to messages, even those carried by Scraps. Beware of your brother’s ambition and drive. I think he has truly come to enjoy the violence and chaos of life outside the law; he indulges in almost every vice the Syndicate has to offer. Ryzen reminds me of my brother, I pray to the Force he does not end up meat for the bounty hunters as your uncle Cypher did.” Taking one last swallow he tossed the remains of the sweet drink away, out of the edge of the holo recorder’s view then looked directly into it, looking directly into her eyes “I cannot wait to see you again Izrafel, please know there is nothing but love and pride in my heart for you and Ryzen. I miss you echo, and love you more than words can ever express.”

The image froze and Izrafel sat in silence for a few moments before stirring. Going back to the wardrobe she packed her clothes in an old battered duffle bag and tossed it across the room where it slid to a stop close to the door. Next she pulled out a steel case and placed her equipment into the specially formed slots within the padded cushions. The Lightfoil and whip, the handful of small explosive devises and a handful of non- lethal stuff, lock picks, miniature recording devices, the binary comlink, etc. Done with packing she moved to the suite's small kitchenette and cleaned up the small mess from the morning caf. As she was finishing that task the door chimed, then opened telling her it was Scraps, the staff had been warned to wait for an invitation before wandering into her room. The old droid had a fresh coat of charcoal gray with deep blue and purple pin striping.


“Good morning Mistress Izrafel” his glowing red eyes swept the room once “I see you are ready to go. The weather is turning today, but should not pose a problem for a ship like ours. I took the liberty of clearing up all the paper work related to your stay here” he raised a hand and tapped a long multi jointed finger against the side of his head “I have copies you can down load later” he told her.

“Great Scraps, I’m done here, the house keeping droids can come in right behind us” moving with a bounce in her step she crossed the small suite and picked up the metal case in her right hand. Which left her gun hand empty. Scraps grabbed the duffle full of clothes and they left the room, Izrafel paused at the door and let her brown eyes sweep across the room she had called home for the past year shaking her head before turning and slapping the door controls.

Doctor Massasauga had a hover car waiting for them as they walked out of the research center; Scraps tossed her duffle bag into the back storage hatch before he climbed into the back seat with her. The cityscape passed by in a blur as the staff driver whisked them across the town towards the spaceport. Clouds were heavy in the sky and the tropical planet looked to be getting another soaking. The storm was nothing to keep a ship from lifting off, and that was her only concern. She was trying to not hate them for what had been done to her, but she had no desire to hang around to see the sights either. The ride across town took roughly twenty minutes with their driver pulling to a stop near a beat up looking Sentinel-class landing craft Shard of Alderaan stood silently waiting for them. She knew she’d spent most of her life running around the galaxy in the ship, for that matter they’d lived in the shuttle on more than one planet, still there was no emotional attachment to the memories. It seemed as if at least ninety percent of her memories were files loaded into the computer portion of her brain.

Izrafel’s left hand went up to tap out the code on the entry panel and the shuttle’s ramp dropped down smoothly. A small smile crossed her face as “Welcome Home” flashed on a small message strip attached to the hull of the ship. The young woman walked into the ship, large brown eyes looking around at things that should bring all sorts of memories, but her eyes just found a ship that looked much better inside than it’s outer hull would lead one to believe. The clang of Scraps metallic feet on the ramp kept her from getting lost in the thoughts of her missing past.

“I will go begin preflight and contact Sluis control,” the droid told her in it’s computerized version of her father’s voice “why don’t you go check on the handful of droids we’ve acquired.”

“Of course” she answered taking her duffle bag from him. The ship had been radically changed on the inside, with the majority of the cargo space having been converted to small private rooms for the family and the rest turned into workstations. The landing craft was transport, home and base of operations more often than not for the small odd family she was part of. She stopped by her quarters just long enough to peek in at the unfamiliar personal clutter, before tossing the duffle onto her bunk and continuing on to the hold.

Three speeder bikes and her custom swoop were packed tightly mounted on the walls of the hold, a half dozen MDO droids and a bunch of other medical gear filled the rest of the small hold. She wondered why Xaivyar was sending so much equipment with them, but figured her father would answer that and many other questions when they were reunited. She felt a slight temperature increase a few seconds before feeling the quite thrum and vibration of the landing craft’s engines firing up, a few more seconds later the sound of the engines starting came to her ears. The young woman spent a few minutes double checking the cargo restraints then left the hold making her way to the cockpit. Scraps sat in the pilots seat, as expected, so she settled into the oversized co-pilots seat.

The musky scent of a furred Alien filled her nose and sparked a deeply rooted memory, another sense of safety. Maze Ak’Tor had been her father’s partner for over half her life, the Coynite was the first sapient being her father trusted completely when he’d taken the family and dove into the fringe elements of the galaxy in an effort to hide from the civil war raging across space. All she could pull up for the Coynite was a sense of complete trust, files in the swift78 held most if not all of her memories of the family, the feeling of trust for Maze came from her gut at smelling his scent in the co-pilots seat. She knew it was important to trust her instincts, though not how she knew it. Izrafel supposed her father or Maze had taught her the importance of listening within. Only now she was also listening to computers running in her head, hearing and seeing more than most humans and many other species as well.

“If you do not mind, Captain Scraps” she flashed a smile and let her eyes run over the instruments “I will keep you company until our first jump. I do not remember any of my time in the medical ward” she gave a little shudder and her voice lowered to a true whisper “I am glad I do not. I want to see the planet again on our way out. Why do I not know how to fly, I have a swoop” her voice perked up, it was a memory “customized ugly, like almost everything else we own.”

“I hope you are referring to the various ships and vehicles the family seems to acquire and build. Rather than the droid that has guarded and taught you and your brother for well over a decade” Scraps replied without looking away from the controls “You might as well handle the com, spaceport control will be calling back any moment. Go ahead and switch shields and weapons to standby so they will be warmed up too.”

Izrafel reached over and flipped a series of switches to send a trickle of power into the defensive systems of the landing craft. A green light flashed followed by a ping on communications board so she hit the receiver key “Shard of Alderaan, you are clear for take off” followed with exit coordinates. The young woman tapped the vector into the navcom, and then tapped the com board again “Sluissi Control, this is Shard of Alderaan, confirming exit vector. Thank you.”

“Shard of Alderaan, please stay within normal planetary exit parameters” there was a short pause “clear skies and happy landings Shard of Alderaan. Tell your father I expect him to fulfill the second half of our contract now. Xaivyar and Sluissi Control, out.”

Izrafel keyed off the com board and glanced at Scraps “just how much debt do we have to this Xaivyar character anyway” she asked as casually as she could. Cybernetics could not come cheap, and she’d had a tremendous amount of work done to her. Growing up in the fringe she had a rough idea of what things could cost especially loans and favors. She did not like the idea of the family being indebt to a Sluissi crime boss, but she knew they had to be.

The droid seemed overly focused on a rather simple take off, and stayed that way until they cleared the atmosphere. Once he had the ship pointed out of the system he turned his head to face her. “The debt is large enough that the family will busy for sometime in paying it. Master Dagon signed contracts for four jobs…” he paused and gave a human sounding snort "two have been completed and your father was scouting the area we will do the third job in.”

“Fine then, once we make our first jump you can fill me in on this third job. I can at least start compiling a list of equipment we will need.” the sky began darkening until they left the atmosphere. Scraps turned the ship around and killed thrust for a moment so she could see the planet she’d spent nearly a year on. Of course most of the area below them was covered by the storm clouds but the rest was lush with several shades of green and blue. It looked like a beautiful world she thought gazing out the front view ports.

“I might want to come back here sometime to explore those jungles, but you have us pointed the wrong direction if we are going to help the family” there was just a touch of sarcasm in her tones and a cocky smirk on her lips. Alive and well, modified and upgraded she was determined to reclaim her place in the family. Izrafel also silently vowed vengeance against Matten Steel, the man responsible for the attack that put her in the Sluissi’s care.

[Zedekk]

:w00t: great stuff. but shes a :vader: -thing... :ugh: want more want more want more! :D

[sharyntyre]

A week spent in hyperspace left Izrafel and Scraps with a lot of time to talk, she used the time well to familiarize herself with ‘the family’. Scraps had plenty of stories about each member from the mundane to heroic and criminal. Sometimes something the droid said would spark a memory, giving her a tantalizing taste of her missing past. These small discoveries gave her a chance to share stories and each one excited her hope that she would regain more as time went on.

She also spent hours tinkering on her swoop and the speeder bikes, everything proved to be in top condition after going over them from end to end. Gadgets and the pair of R-4 droids Bold and Hammer were doing a good job she decided as she secured the cargo straps keeping her custom swoop firmly attached to the side of the hold. The full compliment of MD droids stayed powered down strapped together and secured in a large shipping crate taking up a majority of the reduced cargo hold.

When not working on the bikes or talking to Scraps the young woman spent some of her time in her tiny cabin just looking at the small collection of personal items. She would pick up this or that trinket and sit quietly hoping some memory or emotion attached to them would come to her. The exercise proved less fruitful than the talks with the guardian droid, though she decided she liked most of the things. I like my tastes she thought more than once, smirking at herself each time. Of course she liked her tastes, it wasn’t as if she was looking at someone else’s junk. On the other hand she did recover one jewel of a memory, from what felt like another life, before they’d joined uncle Cypher’s…friends.

They were on holiday visiting her mother’s side of the family on Alderaan, packing for the return trip to Chandrila. Like most tourists they’d visited theme parks and planetary landmarks, each of which had it’s own souvenir shop. Dagon and Iszabela were discussing all the extra things, and the need for at least one more suitcase just to carry everyone's things home. They smiled and laughed, Izrafel and Ryzen joining in as they teased one another about tossing out your junk to make room for my stuff. In the end they did get an extra piece of luggage and carried all the trinkets back to their home near the coast of the Silver Sea. She was over whelmed with senses, this time coming from within, not sensations picked up by the upgrades installed into her new body. Emotions flooded through her, mingling and churning as she experienced joy, love, amusement and a deep sadness and longing all at the same time. Tears streamed down her cheeks even as her heart danced with joy.

She spent three point four six hours sitting on her narrow bunk cradling a plush fur covered toy resembling one of Alderaan’s native avian species, unable to control the emotional tidal wave. The toy had a recording of samples of the animals various songs; she played them over and over rocking back and forth on the bunk. When she finally collected herself, putting the toy and other trinkets back in the small locker under the bunk she realized she was indeed human, despite all the hardware and the computers inside. Izrafel made a promise to herself to not put herself through the experience again, despite treasuring the emotions and memories equally. Grabbing a fresh jumpsuit she slipped into the cramped refresher station, thankful Scraps was some where else aboard the ship to not see her tear streaked face. The short shower did wonders for her and woke up her appetite.

The food prep station rendered a healthy balanced meal, though it lacked much in the flavor department. Nerf tenderloins with a fungi gravy and tubers sounded better than it tasted, but maybe it was just her taste buds. The stuff was no better or worse than what she’d been fed on Sluis Van. After spending a few moments bemoaning the possible loss of all sense of taste, she pragmatically decided it would cut down on prep time and expenses of meals. The only memory shipboard food sparked was one of continued blandness, a sense that it was something to be endured; yet not something that left her sick. It’s like dealing with individuals you did not particularly care for Izrafel smirked shaking her head as she cleaned up her mess.

The vibration of the ship altered slightly followed by a change in the tone of the engines, her head cocked to the right as she consulted the timer she’d set in the computerized portions of her mind. They were coming out of light speed six point three minutes early, no alarms sounded, the engines sounded as smooth and powerful as ever. With a sense of curiosity she moved to the cockpit and dropped into the oversized co pilot’s seat. A glance at the navcom showed they were where they were supposed to be for the last course change on the trip home. In a few hours we’ll be at the new home, she ignored the exact time that floated from hardware to brain. A few hours was close enough for her purpose.

“Hey captain” she greeted him with a grin “one last jump and we are home” her voice carried a hint of curiosity. It was one thing to be told they had a wing of a barracks building next to hanger 3 with a list of amenities and the lack there of. It was another to see, touch and smell the place, getting a feel for it. Shard of Alderaan had felt familiar while looking foreign for the first day or so, but now she felt as if she’d spent half her life on board. Which indeed she had, more or less over the last ten years. Even when the family had a home away from the ship, things they felt they could not part with were left on board, rather than risking having to leave them at whatever ‘safe house’ or base or crime din they were currently staying in.

“Greetings Mistress Izrafel” the droid answered in a cheerful yet gruff tone, an echo of her father’s voice. No matter how she asked the droid refused to drop the honorific mistress when speaking with her. He was in command, of the ship and the ‘mission’ to return her to her people. Other than that though, he followed her lead in the day-to-day routine. Scraps left her feeling it was very important to him personally, that she feel comfortable, which wasn’t surprising once she gave it thought. Her father had paid to have the extra codes into the droid, changing him from a straightforward combat droid to a pilot/guardian/care giving droid for his family on the run. “I took the liberty to call ahead and let the family know our schedule, Assya and Gadgets answered the call and promised a grand party to celebrate your return to us.”

Izrafel groaned rolling her eyes, a party, being the center of attention was the last thing she wanted. A nice quite return with a long conversation with everyone, one at a time, was more to her liking. She did not need her over protective and sometimes overbearing droid to tell her that was selfish of her. She knew, without any emotion attached to the fact, that each of the beings, human and alien, had worried over and missed her to one extent or another. Even her brother. The party was as much for them as her, she knew and tried to make herself look forward to it. The files about the family, including herself said she had enjoyed a wide variety of music and ‘loved to dance’ Izrafel had played the small selection of music she’d kept in her cabin over the past week. None of it provoked any emotions or memory, but it was pleasant and she had found herself dancing around the cramped cargo hold while working on the bikes.

“We should have taken a detour so I could shop on Naboo” she replied in a teasing tone “I’ve nothing fit for a party” she lied with a flat face. There was a small but wide ranged wardrobe for her, thoughtfully packed with the other things Scraps had brought with him. There was nothing she was excited about wearing, that was simple truth.

Scraps paused in tapping in the last jump coordinates and glanced over at her “I’m supposed to be the comedian here” his long fingers went back to the navcom while his eyes remain on her. “Nobody is going to care how you are dressed, you are back on your feet and will be among those who love you Mistress Izrafel. They have been informed about your loss of memory and warned to not press you about the past” his eyes moved from her face back to the navcom to double check his numbers. “It is an excuse to quit working early, dress up, and spend the night eating and drinking to excess.”

Izrafel chuckled without making any other reply. That was true, most beings needed little excuse to enjoy themselves, and leaped at anything that got them out of work early. Some things were nearly universal in the galaxy.

With a firm nod of his head, a gesture learned from her father, his hands went to the controls and pointed the nose of the ship on it’s new course then pulled the lever engaging the hyper drive. Stars seemed to elongate then flashed into a brilliant glittering swirl of flashing colors. The tall long limbed droid leaned back in the pilot seat and folded his arms across his chest.

Within her head enhanced optics viewed not only visual light, but also ultra violet and infer red as well. More than tripling the amount of light and color, textures being viewed. The processors in her head had no problem keeping up with the data received. A smile of child like wonder crossed her dark face for a few heartbeats as she watched the swirling colors. The smile slowly faded and she turned to look at her companion “six hours until I learn how much lommin ale and Corrillian whiskey this new body can absorb. I think I will use part of this time to review the files you gave me” she paused tossing her head then winked at the droid “and decide what to wear.”

Izrafel got up and left the cockpit leaving the droid sitting with it’s arms folded over his chest. Scraps gave another slow firm nod of his clam shaped head, red eyes glowing brightly as the ship hurled through hyperspace. Having taken care of the young human female for half her life he felt responsible for her, and her brother. Though it was said droids did not have emotions, he had experienced many hours of what was called worry. The doctors and MD droids had briefed him about shock and behavior patterns to watch for that would indicate an unstable mind. The old modified Duelist Elite had not witnessed any of the warning signs, the one bout of crying was understandable, the Alderaanian toy she listened to had been purchased during the last family outing before going on the run. Mistress Iszabela had perished along with her home planet when Vadar and Mof Tarkin blew the planet to pieces as a demonstration of Imperial power. That had still been a fresh wound to the family when they suffered the devastating attacks by Mr. Steel’s group, it was reasonable for the girl to express her grief.

All in all the cobbled together droid thought his charge was adjusting very well, and if anything, the lack of productive activity was her only problem right now. One could only inspect things so many times; they kept all the vehicles in good to excellent condition. Scraps was sure his young ward would quickly acclimate herself to the new home, the new family members. For himself, he hoped master Inari would find a way to pull the family out of the fringe; living among outlaws tarnished the honorable ethics he tried to instill in his children. Programming them into a droid had been rather simple.

Scraps spent a moment allowing his processors to maul the thought over before deciding it was a good things humans had free will, if sapient beings could be programmed like a droid, there would be no one to oppose the Empire. To the computer serving as a brain in the droid, there was no room in the galaxy for a government that was willing to destroy a densely populated planet. That same processor knew there was no convincing master Inari to join the rebellion, he’d already lost his peaceful life and his beloved wife to the Empire, and he was not going to directly oppose Palatine’s new order. Glowing red eyes scanned the control board again, seeing everything in order the droid set an alarm to wake him a few minutes before they were do to drop out of hyperspace. His last thought was looking forward to an oil bath as he switched into standby mode.

[sharyntyre]

Izrafel sat at her father’s right hand as the family gathered for a final planning session, Scraps came in with a tray of refreshments setting it on the middle of the table before taking his place at the table opposite of Dagon. Assya’ Kisz’mea sauntered in dressed provocatively, as usual, the red skinned Twi’lek flashed a row of gleaming sharp edged teeth at the group before pouring herself a mug of caf and sitting down next to Izrafel. “Good morning all” the woman’s smile widened “no disrespect intended Master Inari, but it’s been relaxing the last few days with the Kingfishers off world.”

Dagon nodded with a small frown “no offense taken fair lady” he offered her a small bow while remaining seated “my son and his friends have terrible manners. I have a feeling they will not stay with us much longer. Between their skills and blood lust they are being wasted attached to security, there have been inquiries from a few bosses who’d like to take the whole group off our hands.”

As he spoke the conference room door opened and the fierce Coynite ducked through followed by Patch and Gadgets. Two and a half meters of muscle and fur bowed to each person at the table before folding into the double sized chair on the leader’s left hand. Maze Ak’Tor’s white and gold patches of fur crisscrossed with silvery lines and smaller splotches randomly spider webbed over most of his body gleamed and shined in the bright lights. Bandoliers crisscrossed his broad chest with a carbine holstered hanging at each hip. Maze slept and showered armed; Izrafel doubted the alien was ever completely unarmed. As if he needs weapons.

Patch, a human doctor took a seat next to Scraps with a bemused expression on his face while the Otolla Gungan looked embarrassed and subdued. Patch leaned in to look at Gadgets “Issun will not be joining us, he was electrocuted testing the new shield generators on his speeder bike.” The pale skinned doctor turned to face the rest of the room “I should be able to pull him out of the bacta tank by the end of the day, so you’ve not lost him for the mission.”

The Gungan’s ears shook as if caught in a wind shoulders shrugging in an exaggerated gesture “Meeza did missa onez o da ground wires yess. Sorries Iza be, but Issun beeza okiedokie no times Patch good doc.” A wide grin flashed across his long face while eye stalks swiveled left and right to see everyone’s reaction “Izza fixes da shields, tests dem meeza self I didz” he finished folding his hands on the table.

Gadgets was a wizard when it came to cobbling odds and ends together and making them function, sometimes things did not work as expected though. It was a calculated risk anytime the Gungan began modifying things. Everyone had been bitten by the ‘curse’ most had been saved once or twice by his odd adaptations to things as well. Like most things in life it all balanced out.

There were several smiles and a few chuckles around the table and the last member of the family expected strolled in with an annoyed expression Skadi Siyamek “Odderman only sent half of the cargo, the rest is going to be a week late. I am not the only one that is going to want a piece of his hide if it’s any later than that.” The Gotal spit out a few colorful curses aimed at Odderman’s genetic make up then shook his head “Forgive my manners and tardiness. Are we ready to move on Harland Nablis.”

Dagon nod his head and Scraps tapped the controls of the holo projector there was a couple of flashes of light but no image sprung up until the droid slapped the unit twice with an open hand. “This is our target Harland Nablis” the image showed a small human male, immaculately groomed and dressed. “Sources tell us he is Matten Steel’s chief of finances, our mission is two part. First is taking Mr. Nablis alive. We’ve argued the ethics and morals of these contracts enough” the former Republic intelligence officer paused to make eye contact with each member of the adopted family before going on. “Part two is finding a way into those accounts and draining Steel’s war chest before we move in on the man himself. Issun will be turned loose on the computers while we kidnap Nablis, if he has not broken into the accounts by the time we secure the target…” He trailed off. None of them were happy with the prospect of breaking someone, a clean fight was one thing, but torture another. Hopefully it would not come to that.

Maze Ak’Tor spoke into the silence, his growls translated by a device worn on a collar around his thick neck. “Scraps and I will question the man, starting with the suggestion we could involve his picture perfect family if he does not cooperate.” The big alien looked around the table “We will not touch them, of course. Nothing in the Intel suggests his wife and daughters know anything about his criminal activities.”

Patch spoke into a semi uncomfortable silence “I have a few things that can loosen a man’s tongue without torturing him. I will give the stuff to Scraps with instructions on dosages and effects.” Patch did not get involved in jobs, other than dealing with the after math. When defending himself there were rarely wounded enemy left between his disruptor rifle and the grenade launcher attached under the long barrel. He was a hard man with secrets, but a competent doctor without the help of a staff of droids now ‘cluttering’ his medical ward. Patch had asked for help, but had not expected a full staff; he had been overwhelmed with gratitude, yet still grumbled and cursed about the droids.

Dagon nodded “I appreciate that people” again he made eye contact around the table. “We have identified a few avenues of attack. Nablis operates out of a casino on Cloud City, Bespin. He takes a hover train from the penthouse on the edge of the city, and gets off at one of four different stops, wanders the streets a few blocks looking for tails then hops a public transport to finish the trip to the Pair O’Dice. Security there is tight, but not impossible to break. Steel has set up an interesting, and slick way of paying his hired guns.”

Despite talking about a rival, an enemy that had attacked the family, there was a touch of respect in the man’s tones. “When a merc has completed a job they are sent a V.I.P invitation to the casino. This badge alerts employees to give such customers top notch services, and before two specially programmed dealing droids kicks in code that forces the dealer to stack the deck for the badge wearer until the sum of the contract has been ‘won’ by the individual. It is not rare for these men and women to turn around and loose some if not all their pay before they leave the casino. Which is Steel’s intent, as a silent partner he enjoys a fair take of the place’s income on top the money Steel paid for his services. As a senior pit boss it was not unusual for him to deal with the V.I.Ps, celebrities and elite customers.”

Izrafel and the Twi’lek next to her shared a glance and smile it was a slick operation. Not only did Steel have a good chance of taking some or all of the pay back, it would leave the merc needing more work, eager to recoup the losses in the casino. Izrafel’s whispery tones floated over the table next “Ryzen and his squad are already on Bespin, and have used game winnings to reserve rooms for us at the Grand. They will stay in the background and hopefully we will not even need to call on them. Lysa scouted out a handful of safe houses we can rent as a temporary base of operations and secured a secondary hanger. Father managed to get his hands on one of these trick badges and Issun has reset it so that one of us can get close to the target without rising any alarms.” Dark eyes glanced to the to her father’s face he just smiled and waved for her to continue.

“The target visits one of the skin houses twice a week and often has pleasure slaves sent to him at the casino. Assya’s idea is to pose as a pleasure slave sent as a gift that will allow her to be alone with him. We can always intercept him somewhere between his leaving the train and getting to the casino” she shrugged shaking her head “that leaves room for witnesses and complications with Cloud City security.”

Dagon spoke up again scratching a face needing the attentions of a razor “Calrissian and his aid run a good balanced crew of professionals. They are not Storm trooper material, but better than backwater guards. They even have a small group of elite soldiers who are commandos and fighter pilots. I hope Ryzen and the Kingfishers do not have to tangle with that unit.”

Maze growled shaking his head sending the luxurious mane of golden hair floating in the air around his face “I do not like Assya posing as any sort of slave” having been a former slave himself the half blood Coynite was always touchy on the subject of slaves. The translator built into the collar wasn’t really needed to understand he was against the idea.


The red skinned Twi’lek chuckled her brain tails wiggling in amusement, but there was a definite hard edge to the gleam in her eyes “your concern for my honor is well noted Maze Ak’Tor, but the choice is mine to make. We have decided to keep the plan ready as an option.”

A huge fur covered hand pounded the table hard enough to send steaming caf spilling over the edge of two mugs his growl nearly drowning out the translator “then I must insure our first plan works.” Maze was as protective with the adopted family females as he was over the Inari children. Dagon Inari had bought him out of the gladiator pits and freed him many years ago, the mix blood alien’s code of honor demanded he spent that freedom in service to the man who’d granted it to him. They were a good team, and he took his duty of protecting the family as seriously as any Wookie ever took a life debt.

Gadgets belched and grinned widely “Meeza thinks wees scout da city first, then lays plans to scoopa upta da manz yezza.”

Dagon nodded with a wide smile “good idea Gadgets, but you are not part of the team.” The Gungan frowned making a rude sound the head of the family ignored the outburst and glanced around the table “Whistler is working on our com system, I will let her know what we’ve decided on. I want all of you packed and ready to go by moon rise” large brown eyes went to his daughter on his right hand side “equipment packages will be sorted out and ready before then, correct.”

Izrafel smiled nodded her head “I have everyone’s equipment inspected and ready, according to the mission profile. If there is something you want I haven’t packed for you let me know before noon today.” As she spoke she pulled out several sheets of paper with quickly scrawled lists of weapons and other equipment and passed them out among the family members.

“The party will be split into a couple of smaller groups” Dagon picked up the briefing again. “Izrafel, Assya, Scraps and Whistler will be taking a public transport. Issun, Skadi, Maze and myself will fly in with Shards of Alderaan carrying the serious hardware. Xaivyar gave us some codes to pass along to Cloud City security that will get us past customs inspections without the risk of half our things being impounded. Officially we are on vacation and meeting with potential clients. There is a grain of truth to that; I am hoping Trapper will show up. I’ve been trying to make contact with that group for a while now. If there is nothing else, the rest of the day is yours, just be ready for lift off at moon rise.”

The motley group of aliens and humans sat around the table sipping caf and talking of family matters and domestic issues for several minutes before breaking up. Patch was the first to leave followed by Gadgets who mumbled something about duel phase shielding for the speeder bikes. Izrafel left shortly after the Gungan kissing her father on the head and hugging the huge gold and white furred alien. With a bounce in her step and a small predatory smile on her face she made her way to the armory and began double-checking everyone’s weapons and specialized equipment. The beginning of this mission was her first step at pay back for the attack that landed her in the cybernetic ward.

[nefertiti]

Glad you were able to "tidy" your thread. Sorry I made such a mess of it. Can you chalk it up to excitement - Excitement that I could do it on just that day!

Good story. Lots of things going on. I'd like to see more.

[Machievelli]

Posted 17 Nov on the Lucasforums Coruscant Entertainment
The Critic’s Two Cents and Starwarsknights.com The Critic returns

Set not long after The Empire Strikes Back: A woman wakes in the hospital and finds that she has been ‘enhanced’.
There are some problems with grammar spelling, and punctuation, but nothing that can’t be corrected by editing and polishing. The style flows smoothly, and the description is crisp and well done.
The Star War universe had always been more laid back about the idea of cyborgs than most of modern science fiction. The shock would be bad if it were you, I admit, and the character’s reactions are perfect.

[sharyntyre]

There are some problems with grammar spelling, and punctuation, but nothing that can’t be corrected by editing and polishing.


I know I know! I am terrible with grammer skills and while word is helpful, it's not fool proof. I am surprised anyone is reviewing the story, somewhat humbled as well.

the next installment should be up this weekend. Thank you for the comments.

[Machievelli]

Just doing my job, kid. Keep it up.

I just wish with your work that I would be able to read it all. But I am trying to sell my work at the same time.

[sharyntyre]

The Tinta Line star cruiser Coruscant Reflection Slowly pulled out of it’s orbit with karfiddion as the last two shuttles dropped from the landing bay. Lyster Niles stood a few feet away, arms folded over his chest as he watched his security team process the new passengers. There really wasn’t much to it, they were screened dirt side before being allowed to board the shuttles, but this gave the beings of his team a chance to see each passenger in person. Most were wealthy beings gallivanting across the galaxy seeking distractions from the civil war, they had two newly wed couples heading towards Cloud City for honeymoons, a few professional gamblers, and several business people.

A last group of four beings stood patiently as Drizz slid their ID cards through the security terminal. A small dark haired human with a bounce in her step and a perky smile was laughing with a tall winged humanoid. With feathers in several shades of reds, gold and oranges her coloring made her appear a walking flame, especially when she ruffled her feathers letting out a happy sounding series of chirps and whistles. The third woman was a red skinned Twi’lek who’s every motion seemed part of a dance, as she handled the group’s boarding procedure.

The odd looking droid captured Lyster’s curiosity, with a clam shaped head of a V1 it had long arms and long fingered hands, with a pair of carbines strapped to it’s legs. The security chief frowned, they had to have permits for such weapons aboard ship, or the hardware would have been packed in the luggage. Deciding the droid was a guard, the chief felt a need to introduce himself to the group. Something about three women and a droid traveling together tickled his funny bone. It probably wasn’t anything at all, but he had not survived the Clone Wars by ignoring his gut either.

The heavy set security chief sauntered over as Drizz paused in his ID checks to look up at the human woman, his eyes wide and shaking his head in disbelief. Sagien, a Gotal nudged Drizz with an elbow and lifted his chin in the chief’s direction. Big purple eyes blinked a couple of times “your pardon Miss Inari, your medical records..” the Gotal hissed interrupting the black skinned humanoid. “Your papers appear to be in order. Reservations for two suites on deck three.”

Sagien opened a drawer and fished around for a pair of key cards and a small data pad to slide across the narrow security table. “There is a map of the ship along with a list of entertainment and the room service menu.” He went on to explain a few details of the ship and there course, which called for two more stops before reaching their destination of Bespin. Lyster carried his bulk around the table to take a peek at the Ids, permits and the medical record that had Drizz in shock.

The fat security chief whistled through his teeth as he looked over the small groups credentials. Green eyes widened slightly when he reached the young human’s medical records, he glanced back to her a couple of times as he scanned the rest of the data. “I see you are security consultants” making eye contact with the three sapients he cocked his head slightly and flashed a grin at the clam head droid “this is your pilot and body guard, miss Inari” he finished with a definite tone of inquiry.

Izrafel rolled her eyes and let out a sigh sounding bored with being questioned again. “yes captain, Scraps also has some limited translation capabilities and is a decent cook in a pinch as well.”

Lyster shook his head giving Izrafel a small tight smile “It’s Lieutenant niles” he tapped his rank cylinder “Uwanna has something of a dirty reputation, you look like nice ladies, maybe you should consider seeking employment somewhere else.”

“maybe that is why we are traveling to Cloud City” Assya Kisz’mea purred giving the heavy security officer a smoky look under her long eyelashes “perhaps there is room at Tinta Lines for people with our skills.” The Twi’lek flashed a toothy smile while reaching out to tap the pile of data cards still in the lieutenant held in his meaty fist “then again we can take care of ourselves.”

Lyster nodded frowning at the red skinned woman “yes I see you all are licensed to carry and use a wide variety of hardware” his tone deepened and his eyes became cold and hard “whatever you….ladies are doing, please keep the peace while aboard ship, or you will be dealing with me and my team. I’d rather not add to your medical file miss Inari.”

As if your team were competent enough to deal with anything more serious than disorderly passengers Izrafel threw her head back and laughed mocking sarcasm dripped from her lips as she replied “well, in face of such dire threats we have no choice but to remain on our best behavior. If you professionals need any help, you know where to find us. We intend to spend much of our time on the entertainment deck.”

The Gotal and black skinned humanoid stirred, the Gotal making a deep throated growl before a slight hand motion from Lyster quieted the pair. Drizz shook his head and glared at the women, but quickly passed the data cards back to the Twi’lek woman. Sagien called over a trio of porter droids who picked up the groups bags and followed them out of the hanger bay. A small smile played across his lips as he watched the wiggling back side of the Twi’lek until Drizz slapped his arm, a small grin on the humanoid’s face as well.

Lyster Niles shook his head “fringe types, but I do not believe they will cause us any problems. Still inform central I want holocam surveillance on them outside of their suites.” Scratching his head he thought something about the human girl seemed familiar, yet he knew he’d never met her before. “Lock down the bay and inform the bridge all passengers are accounted for and screened.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ryzen looked out of the floor to ceiling window providing a spectacular view of Cloud City without really seeing much of it. Expensive Corrillian whiskey filled a crystal goblet in his hand, the effects of several glasses of the stuff leaving his thoughts a touch slow and fuzzy. A few of his pilots littered the suite behind him, sprawled out on Plash self molding chairs and over stuffed nerf-hide couches. Sandria sat upright and the most alert of the group, she was counting her winnings from making side bets during the Sabbac game. Kamran and Jeb were attempting to drink away the pain of a big loss at the card table, he’d warned them to not play against him. As usual though, their Imperial back ground left them feeling superior, they scoffed at his warning.

After almost a week in this soft outer rim city he had won almost enough to buy a first rate star fighter. Even better, he’d already made contact with the family’s target. Nablis had been a decent opponent for a few hours, then the endless rounds of drinks began to effect his judgment. They had plans to meet again in four days for a private game involving a couple of local high rollers, some of the city administration, and the top winner from each casino over the week.

The young man shook his head trying to push off dark thoughts and feelings. He was tired of being tied to his father and their ‘family’ of displaced aliens and other misfits. Oh sure, Assya was a grand bed mate, and a decent gunner, but still. The others all contributed something to the team, a small voice reminded him while a surge of frustration filled him. Ryzen felt he was being held back, his squadron of fighter pilots were under utilized. There were groups out there paying premium for pilots, especially those with their own ships. Lysa Mandrin was the only one of his flight group to express true happiness with her position and role. Then again, the rest of his pilots felt she was the weakest link in their group, even if her gunboat had made the difference in more than on encounter. Still a small part of him knew he’d stick with the family a little longer, at least long enough to finish Steel.

That thought took his mind to his sister. They’d been close growing up, competitive in their teens where their skills over lapped. She should have died a year ago though, and was no more human now than Assya or Scraps. Ryzen hated his father for doing that, and felt a tinge of disgust and distrust for his sibling. He’d been opposed to the cybernetics from the beginning, though he had tried to welcome her back, he could not shake the image of her mangled bleeding body from his mind. She’d been all but dead, she should have died, she was unnatural. While he knew thousands if not millions of beings were equipped with one sort of cybernetic enhancement or another, the thought made his skin crawl.

A few more days, half a week at most and they’d be a big step closer to avenging the attack against their former base. Until then all they had to do was monitor Nablis and the security channels, rumor had it that the Rebels and Imperial forces had clashed somewhere nearby. Whatever else was going on he did not want any trouble with the Imperial forces, not counting the trouble three of his pilots would be in. A small grin crossed his face before he took another deep drink relishing the fiery burn, a dog fight with Imp forces was much more to his liking than this cloak and dagger stuff. Still, this work had to be done, for several reasons.

Tossing back the last of the whiskey Ryzen decided to begin making contact with the groups known to be looking for pilots. While he knew the Rebels were always open to pilots he viewed their chances as slim, who wants to be on the loosing side of that sort of battle? Much better to stay in the fringe and profit on both sides of the conflict.

[sharyntyre]

Matten Steel sat at his desk reviewing reports from his various officers scattered across a good part of the outer rim. A new load of slaves were do for delivery to Jabba the Hutt, who would in turn sell some of them even less savory individuals. Steel did not care for the Hutts, and had not met the fat slime ball personally once the contract details had been worked out. Sooner or later he would have to do something about Jabba, but for now he had a lesser rival to deal with. Xaivyar had been a thorn in his side for a couple of years now, the slithering rogue had a vice grip on the Sluissi sector with several out posts scattered through the region.

Steel was still irritated with Shepard; the merc captain’s attack against Xaivyar had not gone nearly as well as either of them had hoped. Oh there had been plenty of kills, and a few million credits of property damage, but they missed their target. Dagon Inari still lived, and so did all of his so-called ‘family’ Matten’s hard craggy face broke into a grimace. It was one thing to employ aliens, even promote them to high-level jobs, but to claim kinship with them was deplorable. The Inari security team had quietly built a reputation for professionalism and success. Of course he had made two attempts to buy their services from Xaivyar, before the shooting had started. Now Shepard had orders to kill them off as well as the snake man Xaivyar. Steel also had a handful of bounty hunters looking for Inari though he expected Shepard to find them first.

The com unit in the corner of his office beeped and a light began blinking. Frowning the middle aged Tatooine native rose moved from his desk to the chair at the com station. A glance at one of the screens showed the call coming from Bespin, letting him know it would likely be one of two people. Opening the line with a click a soft female voice came through the speaker “good evening boss.”

Matten frowned suddenly feeling the need for a drink “hello Orchid, why do I have a feeling your news is not good.”

There was a short pause, he could almost see the black skinned Twi’lek shrugging and a brain tail twitching “I’ve spotted three people on your list snooping around Nablis.” Orchid rarely wasted time on chitchat.

He was right, he needed a drink, Nablis was a key part of his financial network, and nothing good could come of anyone on ‘the list’ snooping around the casino and the little weasel. “I do not need this now, care to tell who you’ve seen.”

“Dagon Inari and Maze Ak’Tor have rented a hanger bay a short walk from Nablis’ Double Down, and the son, Ryzen has been making a decent run in attempting to break the bank at the casino. He’s won enough to attract Baron Calrissian’s attention; security has found no evidence of cheating. He seems to be as lucky as the rest of the family.” Orchid was one of Steel’s highly valued spies, and had twice acted as an assassin for him. There was little about his network the woman did not know about.

With a muttered curse Steel retreated to his desk just long enough to pull a bottle of Halmad Prime from the lower drawl. The stuff was almost as good as Corrillian brews, without the smoky flavor. Back at the com station he popped the lid and took a deep pull of the fiery liquor as the stuff hit his gut sending a wave of warmth through his body he realized things could be worse, though they were far from good. “Put some quite security around Nablis, but do not warn him. I do not believe he has the nerve to hold steady if he knows he’s become a target. I’ll contact Shepard and send him that way. Hopefully he can catch Inari and dispose of the man and his team on Bespin, that will make dealing with Xaivyar much easier.”

“Yes sir, I took the liberty of contacting a few people in that regard, though I think it may be better to liquidate Mr. Nablis I do not like the idea of him being taken alive by Xaivyar’s people.” She did not bother adding it would take little time to break the man open, which would prove very costly to Steel’s organization.

“Efficient as ever my dear Orchid, but I think not, at least not yet, he is a useful little man in his own way, replacing him would be inconvenient.” Steel paused and took another drink from the bottle of Prime “stay close to him and make sure your lines of retreat are open. You are far more valuable to me than the bean counter.”

There was a brief chuckle from the speaker “that is nice to hear boss, I’ll make arrangements for Shepard and his team. Is there anything else.”

Matten thought for a moment then sighed “No, just try to have good news next time you call.” Orchid did not bother to reply the light died on the com board, Steel stood there for a few seconds then shook his head and then tapped in another com frequency. It took several minutes before there was an answer which only irritated the crime boss, finally Shepard’s smooth tones came over the speaker “I am in the middle of something here, this better be important.”

Steel frowned trying to not let Shepard’s attitude sour his mood any further. “You have a chance to redeem yourself Shepard, drop your little project, Orchid spotted your target.”
He paused enjoying the thought of the merc being angered over the spy finding the target first. Shepard prided himself on his Intel ops, and did not like being upstaged.

When the mercenary replied it was in a tight cold tone “So Xaivyar’s menagerie of a security team are on Bespin are they” there was a nasty sounding laugh “I suppose I better go protect that weasel Harland Nablis, the men get nasty when their pay gets interrupted.”

“Your mission is to destroy Inari and as much of his ‘family’ as possible, Orchid will handle babysitting Nablis, and cleaning up any messes that might be created.” He took yet another drink and had to wipe his chin with his sleeve “I will not accept another failure Shepard, you are good, but not the best. You can be replaced. Bring me Dagon and Maze Ak’Tor’s heads or find a very deep dark hole to hide in.” Steel ended the conversation stabbing the control board with a finger as if driving a vibro blade through his rival. After a minute he shook off his irritation with the merc and decided to finish his review. Once finished with that a visit to the harem a shower and good meal were in order, business was business it would not interfere with him enjoying the perks of his position.

The bottle made a solid thud as he set it on the hardwood, queuing another fill on the data pad he checked the progress of the ship he was modifying. The thing started life as a Marauder-class Corvette; he picked it up in the Cooperate Sector right after the raid against Xaivyar. A year later and more credits than he wanted to think about he had most of the work done. The new, and highly illegal star drives were on the way, the shield generators installed and functional. The main guns were refurbished and being fine-tuned while the general-purpose missile launchers was still being rebuilt. Still no word on the sensor suites and counter measures packages he was looking for. All in all satisfying progress, he’d yet to name the vessel but had weeks if not longer to decide that before she sailed for the first time with him as captain.

[Zedekk]

I love it.

[nefertiti]

Excellent! Thoroughly enjoyable!

[sharyntyre]

Maze Ak’Tor slide the long darkly gleaming repulsor limo through Cloud City’s evening traffic working his way down to Port Town. The huge furred alien was not happy with the plan, and had only approved when the rest of the family agreed to allow him to stay close to the girls. After more surveillance of Nablis they discovered others, who may or may not have noticed them watching the moneyman, were watching him.

Thanks to the man’s vices Izrafel and Assya Kisz’mea were going to go with the fool plan of pretending to be pleasure slaves. A deep growl sounded in his throat as he glanced back into the passenger compartment where the two young women sat talking quietly. Shaking his head he focused on traffic gracefully passing through the repulsor vehicles around them.

Izrafel felt naked, though she was in fact covered from neck to toes. The body sock was made of fine black silky material that hugged her form like a second skin. Tiny little ‘jewels’ in a rainbow of colors dotted the thing, accenting her curves as well as drawing the eyes. She wore knee high black boots with a long cape of black silk with the logo of the Slippery Lilly picked out in more multi colored ‘jewels’ A belt of gold plated credits circled her waist where she carried her Lightfoil and Neuronic whip. A few accessories dangled from the belt as well, along with her Defender broken down into three pieces. The gold collar around her neck concealed the microphone components of a storm trooper’s helmet. The speaker was clipped on the inside of a jeweled comb in her hair near her right ear.

Sitting next to her Assya wore barbaric leather harness with sheer silks that left even less to the imagination than her sparkling body sock. The red skinned Twi’lek carried a pair of vibro blades stashed in the very sparse clothing. Izrafel viewed the Twi’lek with mixed feelings; on one hand the clothes were improper for anything other than a bedroom. On the other hand the she wore them well, the human envied the Twi’lek’s lush curves.

Assya had been a pleasure slave, and she herself insisted on the slender golden collar locked around her elegant throat, around both of their throats. Izrafel admired the woman’s nerve. Together they were going to do a private show that would end with Nablis in the back of the limo, to quietly disappear. If things went as planned, if they did not, the heavy hardware was fairly close to hand. They’d just improvise if worse came to worse.

A growl came from the front seat immediately translated by a device she herself had rigged for Maze. “Two minutes from target. Everything is quite on the other channels,” the electronic voice repeated. Izrafel glanced up to see the mix blooded alien reach over, checking the pair of carbines lying in the seat next to him.

The other channels were the rest of the team scattered out on support missions. Her father and Skadi were riding two of their speeder bikes, watching the limo’s back trail. They were also prepared to run interference with the security around Nablis, if required. Scraps led the team that was not only going to prepare their ship for lift off, but also steel Nablis’ yacht as well. Issun had not cracked the codes to Steels financial network, but he had broke Nablis’ personal files, the man owned a very nice starship. It would fetch a good price on the black market. The Devaronian and Scraps were on their way to pick up, it would also serve as an alternate transport if things fell apart.

Ryzen and his pilots were split into two groups with the former Imps in the belly of an old rusty freighter that served as carrier for this run. The rest, with ships less identifiable were flying around the city in case things got nasty. Izrafel shook her head hoping things did not go so badly they had to call in air support. This was supposed to be a soft raid, even with the additional hazards of shadowy figures watching their target.

Ryzen had provided the key to this avenue of attack; his luck at the Sabbac tables had drawn the casinos attentions. Her brother had been playing in VIP invitation only games for the past week, raking in credits hand over fist. His one loss was to Baron Calrissian in a game that lasted thirty-six standard hours. In return for ‘the best time of my life’ Ryzen was sending pit boss Nablis a pair of striking slaves who would entertain as well as satisfy his every wish. The price of two women and a limo for the night was far less than he’d tipped the staff of the casino over the past two weeks. Not a drop in the bucket of credits he’d taken from the various gambling establishments around Bespin.

Another growl came from the front of the repulsor limo followed by the slightly fuzzy electronic voice of the translator “one minute ladies, time for a com check Izrafel.” The big long vehicle leveled out from it’s decent and slowed as Maze found himself in the queue for VIP entrance.

The darkly pretty human flashed a smile and reached up to power up her hidden com system. “One last shopping trip, does anyone want a souvenir.”

Maze let out a quite rumble the translator could not handle, but she knew he was chuckling. Issun’s voice came as a quite whisper in her right ear with a request for a holo of the two of them in their costumes.

“Watch how you speak about my daughter or I’ll cut your horns off” came the deep gruff tones of her father.

Ryzen’s voice came next, sounding bored and impatient “angels ten, clear skies and strong signal. Let’s do this people.”

The limo cruised to a stop at the casino’s VIP area and Izrafel had to make her self wait for the valets to open the door. Assya sprang out first, like a caged animal she raised up on her toes and stretched, then spun in a little circle. Izrafel made a more dignified exit taking a second to adjust her belt before looking the young human male in the eyes with a smile she hoped was provocative “we have an appointment with Mr. Nablis.”

“Of course my…lady” the kid smirked taking in the pair of women. The pit boss had a reputation, and these weren’t the first of their kind he’d led to the chief. “The boss said to make sure you ladies get whatever you want from the bar on our way through. If you will follow me please.”

Izrafel wanted to smack the knowing look off the young man’s face, but that would break cover. Pleasure slaves took whatever abuse their paying customers dished out, they learned to ignore such minor insults as the kid was offering. The red skinned Twi’lek made a sound that was half throaty growl, half purring “pleasing your boss is my only wish.” The kid gave them another smirk and turned to lead them into the casino.

Maze pulled the limo out into the evening traffic where he would cruise around until time to pick them up again. The com unit built into Izrafel’s collar transmitted continuously so everyone would instantly know how the mission was going. Music and several voices came over the speaker, the sound of automated games of chance cashing out with bells and whistles. Three minutes later the noise fades and they hear loud knocking “Boss the ladies are here.”

[nefertiti]

You were right so long ago..... I like your Ladies!!!!

[sharyntyre]

Thanks for your suport Nef, and inspiration. I am going to begin showing more of the suporting cast in the coming bitsYes I :love: my gals. This is mostly Izrafel's tale, Scraps and Maze Ak'tor are the other two central characters and I've somewhat neglected them. That will change in the coming installments. I'm on the fence with Assya staying around long term.....

enough chatter.

Thanks to everyone for suport and feedback!

[sharyntyre]

Shepard grimaced as reports streamed into the improvised command post his team was using while on Cloud City. Dagon was on the move, and while knowing Nablis was the objective, he had yet to puzzle out their plan. Timlon reported the Inari flight group were air born.

On the data pad that did not sound as bad as it really was. Two modified Z-95 Headhunters, a surplus Assault Gunboat, and an ugly featuring an X-wing with Tie-Interceptor solar arrays where the S-foils and namesake wings should be. The star fighters were mostly armed with ion cannons, while retaining at least a minimum of lethal firepower. The Gunboat retained the original missile systems, and was therefore the most dangerous of the group. Uwanna Salvage was a flimsy cover for a large network of ship thieves; sure, they had legitimate contracts across the sector, and did semi regular sub-contracting for the Empire, but they were also pirates and thieves.

Shepard assumed the other part of the flight group were not part of the operation, and thanked the Dark side that the Imperial pilots and their advanced Ties were not involved. The company lost ten fighters to the Inari group, five to those cursed Imp deserters, in their last battle.

He countered by ordering his own fighters into the air as well. Headhunters and Skiprays, with all the original lasers attached, ten against four, he felt comfortable with those odds. Of course, Baron Calrissian and his security were likely to add their two credits if a dog fight broke out over the city. While the merc captain would rather the operation go down without any official participation, he was interested to see just how good Lando’s people were.

Peittir checked in next “ Maze Ak’Tor just left with Izrafel and the Twi’lek in a limo. Dagon and Gotal are riding shotgun on bikes. Orders, sir?”

“Tail them” the captain growled disgusted with having to state the obvious. Some of the replacements were not up to a proper standard, yet. While good at following orders and proficient with their weapons, or other duties, most were incapable of tactical thinking, incapable of just doing what was required without direction. Before he could give further directives, another light blinked on the com board “just don’t loose them Peittir.”

“I have three at the hanger chief, looks to me they are preparing the shuttle for departure.”

“Make sure your team is ready, and out of sight, Kyle. We want to snare as many of them as we can in one spot. Steel wants them dead, I’d like a few answers from them first.” A cruel nearly inhuman smile crossed the mercenary’s face at the thought of questioning his foes.

[Ojres]

Very nice job. Addicted :P

[sharyntyre]

Kyle shook his head at Shepard’s command; the veteran lieutenant felt it would be much better to take them down piece meal, rather than trying to catch the whole group in one spot. Having faced the Inari family in one firefight already, he had no desire to allow them to prepare for battle a second time. The stocky human went back to poking around a power transfer station close to the Inari hanger. The rest of his six-man team were scattered around the hanger in identical Cloud City Utilities uniforms, weapons near to hand but out of sight in toolboxes and pouches. The mercenary snorted as the three targets sauntered passed oblivious to the trap around them.

The bird like Shashay whistled and chirped in the species’ melodic language with the walking junk pile of a droid nodding it’s clam shaped head and answered in electronic trilling and cheeping. The Devaronian between them seemed to be the only one making any attempt of watching their surroundings. The trio vanished into the rented hanger with the Devaronian speaking in basic of being relieved to leave the floating city. The merc silently agreed with the alien, for a battlefield Cloud City was a tight confined maze, without serious air support, it could also be a death trap. The six-man team was capable and prepared to steel a ship to evacuate in a worse case scenario. Settling in for what he figured would be a short wait. The mercenary hoped Shepard intended to include the females as spoils of war shared between top performers.

~~~~~~~~~~

Peittir dropped the com unit on the seat and slid the repulsor truck into traffic with a frown. How was he supposed to follow them if they split up? His team was packing the heavy firepower ready to deliver a killing blow when they caught their quarry in a group. So far, they had not seen more than four of the targets together in any one place, Shepard made it clear he wanted as many as possible before springing his traps. He let the limo get completely out of sight, just barely keeping the trailing pair of speeder bikes in his sight, trusting them to keep pace with their team mates. Behind him, the sounds of the proficient hands of the squad checking weapons and equipment filled the stale tense air of the cargo bay with sharp clicks, soft hums and insistent beeps.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Geofry scanned the control board of his Z-95 Headhunter as he nudged the nose towards space, his flight group showed up as nine green blips around him. “Spread out and keep a low profile until called on. Stay with your wingman and call out if you are in trouble. Remember people, as far as I am concerned surviving this encounter is more important than taking our targets down. Steel isn’t the only man hiring fighter pilots these days.” A string of acknowledgements flowed over the com unit, dispite the good spirits of his pilots the flight leader had a bad feeling about the coming action.



Dagon lead Skadi in a broad loop opposite the direction Maze circled the area of the target building. A delivery truck had followed them all the way down from the outer upper reaches of the city. That would not seem so odd, except it had made no stops anywhere and now turned to follow him in his loop. “We are being followed” he spoke into the mike of the com unit calmly.

“I told you we were being watched, someone put extra security around Nablis” the Gotal replied. He, Izrafel and Maze Ak’Tor had all spotted tails in the last few days.

“They are already with the target, we cannot pull out now” Dagon replied in a tight voice. They could actually pull out and deal with this shadowy security detail, but he was experiencing a case of the dreads. Without knowing what nor how, the Clone War veteran was certain, the day was going end badly. Dagon had not survived the last twenty years living among the fringe by ignoring his gut instincts. Those instincts told him a tough fight was just around the corner.

Ryzen’s voice came over the airwaves with just a hint of excitement in his rushed tones “we just spotted a cloud of armed civilian craft lifting off and separating into a spread patrol covering the city. Civil defense frequencies are showing heavy com traffic, but patrols are staying loose” there was a brief pause “orders, sir.”

“Stay loose as well Angels ten, remember your team is a last resort” Dagon could picture his son’s frown at that statement.

“Roger that, lead, Angels ten sight seeing until we hear from you” there was no missing the frustration in the young man’s tones. Ryzen pulled his Headhunter into a slow circling climb until he was kilometers above the tops of the towers of the floating city. From this position, he could pounce on targets any where across the city. With one eye on the sensor board and the other out the view port the impatient pilot flew in a slow wide loop high above his family.

Izrafel’s low scratchy voice came in a whisper barely heard over the rush of wind “we are in. Be ready for pick up within ten minutes, watch your backs everyone.”

[sharyntyre]

Assya’Kiszmea danced around the room, swaying and gyrating to the music filling the pit boss’s office. Nablis watch with no effort to mask the lust in his features as the red skinned Twi’lek teased a long sheer strip of silk from her costume. Izrafel’s whip cracked a few inches shy of the Twi’lek causing the accountant to flinch. In response, Assya spun away from the perusing human draping the silk over the target’s head as she went.

Around the office the two women danced Assya like an exotic winged creature playing in the wind, with Izrafel chasing her, threatening with the whip. The Twi’lek leaped up on a low shelf running the length of the back wall of the office another strip of silk floating through the air to land on Nablis’ shoulder. The small seedy man laughed making a show of smelling the sweet perfume on the cloth. Izrafel’s whip cracked again, missing Assya’s head to shatter the small surveillance camera tucked into the corner of the ceiling. The Twi’lek leaped down tumbling to roll to a stop clutching Nablis’ leg large dark eyes looking up as if begging for his protection.

Izrafel turned to peruse her steps a touch off beat as their slicer’s voice broke over the com channel. “We have two problems, the hanger is being watched, and they seem to be waiting for the rest of you. The larger problem is we are picking up heavy Imperial com traffic. I am patching into Cloud City control for more information.” The Devaronian’s tones were cool and calm, dispassionate even “this may take a few minutes.”

Izrafel covered her shock by cracking the whip at Assya again this time coming within a hair of catching the target. He flinched again spilling some of his drink with a curse he snarled at her “enough with the whip and the dancing. I am ready to enjoy the two of you.”

The tiny speaker near her ear carried her father’s worried tones “scrub it, everyone pull out. Get those birds to the transport do not engage Imperial craft. Forget the yacht as well, we want to slip out of here as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Ryzen’s voice came back tight and his breathing heavy “Cloud City control has just called a general grounding, at Imperial request. We have several landing craft with at least a squadron of fighters in escort. Nothing on the scopes, but you can bet their capital ship is near by.”

Assya made a purring noise and slid up the side of his body to hug him, nibbling on his neck. “We come with a suite at the Grand for the whole night and were paid to see your every desire fulfilled.”

Izrafel admired Assya’s nerve, as the woman did not flinch when the man let his hands roam over her lush curves. Of course, it was part of the cover, but the small human had a feeling if she were the one getting the attention, she would break the man’s hand, which was why she had the roll she did, and Assya played the more physical part.

Nablis chuckled, a nasty sound dispite his immaculate attire and grooming “That was the message I received” he gave the Twi’lek a pinch and slap on the backside followed by a gentle push away. The man turned to shut down the computer terminal on his desk and the pair of women flashed a triumphant smile to each other over his back.

Izrafel pulled a com unit from her costume, making a show of using it to contact the limo and hoping she sounded half as eager as Assya managed to appear. “We are ready for pick up driver, I hope you did not drink all the Thyferran wine.”

Dagon’s gruff tones came back in her ear “I said scrub it, we have to pull out.” There was no mistaking the undertone of fear in the veteran’s voice. Her father’s fear of the Empire scared her more than Stormtroopers ever had.

“We are ready to be picked up, hurry if you please driver” she responded and slipped the com unit back onto her belt among the other accessories dangling there. A low rumbling growl let her know Maze Ak’Tor got the message. No matter what the huge fur covered mountain of fury would not leave her and Assya; her father had no choice but to continue his role in the mission. It was to late to gracefully pull out of it anyway.

Izrafel made a little show of coiling the whip and attaching it to her belt, and then steeling herself, she moved in to let Nablis slip a slimy paw on her shoulder. With a lecherous chuckle Nablis lead the pair of women out of his office and through the casino to the VIP landing platform.

Standing on the landing pad with high rollers and dejected losers, Nablis got frisky again. Izrafel gave him a firm elbow to the ribs and slipped from his reach. She turned, spinning on her toes and tapped the whip dangling from her hip “mind your manners in public sir. You will get what you have coming to you soon enough” she told him with a dimpled grin.

Assya Kisz’mea purred and rubbed against the annoyed little human “forgive her master, she is new to the craft. The young one can not appreciate a man of your appetites, yet.” The Twi’lek nibbled on the man’s neck and nipped his ear and whispered softly “I am told you are just the sort of man to break in a new girl properly” she looked at him through her long eye lashes and gave him a knowing smile.

Izrafel did not catch all Assya said to the man, but he puffed up and his sleazy grin reappeared. Over the ops com her father’s voice came low and urgent “Scraps, have the Tears ready to fly, and punch a hole in the web around the ship.” The long black luxury repulsor craft slid in to a smooth stop on the platform and the back door closer to them popped open.

One of the casino waitresses came running out “The city is under Imperial siege, baron Calrissian declared an emergency evacuation.” The black skinned Twi’lek sounded panicked but moved directly at Nablis with sure graceful steps. Izrafel reached down grabbing the Lightfoil from her belt as she spotted a long slender knife appear in the woman’s hand. The blue blade of light sprung up and she took a sliding step forward slashing at the woman’s arm.

Someone screamed, the steel blade flew from her hands to bury to the hilt in Nablis’ leg even as the azure blade sliced into the Twi’lek’s shoulder. Two or three voices shouted “Jedi” Nablis screamed in pain as Assya Kisz’mea dragged him into the passenger cabin of the repulsor limo. The black skinned Twi’lek tumbled and rolled away from the burning blue blade.

Izrafel switched the lightfoil off and piled in, pulling the door shut as a handful of shots peppered the craft from three well-dressed human males among those not fleeing the fight on the VIP platform. A line of rapid fire erupted from the driver’s cabin and two of the three gunmen went down. The third dove behind the high arched doorframe for cover. The car lurched into motion rising towards the hangers where their shuttle waited.

“Look out” Dagon’s voice came over the com a bare second before a flash and thunderous explosion rocked the repulsor car. The lights went out and smoke filled the craft. Maze roared and fought to control the wounded flyer as it sank. After three heart wrenching seconds the limo bounced into a wall and skid to a stop lying on the driver side billowing smoke.

[nefertiti]

Now that's what I'm talking about......!!

:bow: :grin:

[sharyntyre]

Tumbling around in the passenger compartment Izrafel heard Nablis’ neck snap as they smashed into the crumpled steel and shattered glass of the repulsor limo’s side. Angry cursing erupted from her lips at who ever shot them down, and the fool accountant for breaking his neck in the crash. Izrafel ignored the bits of glass stuck in her left cheek and shoulder as she scrambled to open the hatch to the trunk.

“Hurry, we are sitting ducks here” Assya hissed her brain tails twitching in agitation.

“Angel’s ten coming in at eleven o’clock” came Ryzen’s voice over the ops com. Dagon and Skadi swooped over the VIP landing platform above them stitching a duel line of laser fire against the handful of gunmen lining up to shoot down on the stricken craft.

Izrafel felt the lock release and ripped the cover completely from it’s hinges and then dove into the trunk. Her left hand punched the release and the trunk popped open spilling weapon cases and two women onto the bridge.

Maze Ak’Tor heard his lord’s son call out in support yet did not stop his attack against the truck. The passenger hung halfway out of the front cab attempting to line up another rocket shot as the Coynite’s attack peppered the cargo bay with burning holes. Suddenly the repulsor truck dips and darts port but a torrent of red laser fire tears into the front of the truck. A huge fireball rips through the truck sending a dozen burning mercenaries through the air like fireworks.

A Z-95 Headhunter screams over head pulling a high G climb and twisting turn to avoid a pair of Skipray Blastboats zipping into the combat zone from between two towers. Three azure streams of energy blazed into the port side Skipray frying out it’s electronics systems. The pilot did not even have time to scream as the ship exploded against the wall of the tower Ryzen had twisted around in his escape maneuver. The X-tie fired it’s reverse thrusters while performing a tight twisting turn that put it on the second Skipray’s tail as the ship darted in the opposite direction the Headhunter had taken.

Izrafel and Assya tore open weapon cases as the fighters flew overhead. The Twi’lek tossed a bandolier of grenades over her shoulder and plucked the launcher from it’s padded container. After locking a high explosive round into the chamber, she loops the strap over her shoulder and wraps a belt sporting a pair of blasters and power packs around her waist. Quick red skinned hands open another case to pull out a belt of power packs for the Coynite.

Izrafel plucked her gun belt out and wrapped it around her waist. Two pouches held a variety of small explosives. She regretted her Defender still being in three pieces, but they did not have time to put it back together. She did take two seconds to rip the cloak from her shoulders and toss it aside. The dark haired woman pulled out one of the two spare carbines and Assya handed her another bandolier of extra power packs. Slipping the extra ammo over her shoulder she checked the charge and flipped the safety on the carbine.

“What about Nablis” the Twi’lek asked as she peeked around the corner of the smoking ruins of their limo. Blaster fire came down from above, but not with any accuracy. A shadow passed over her head and a huge bundle of fur covered fury landed next to them with a growl.

Izrafel shook her head “target is dead, I heard his neck snap during the crash. We need to get out of here.”

Her father’s voice broke over the ops com near her right ear “bogies coming at you from the west. Skadi and I are on it, head to the east tower for pick up.”

Maze growled as he dumped spent power packs and replaced them. The translator built into his collar giving them his words in basic. “Assya target the lead craft, Izrafel and I will distract the other.”

The two women nodded agreement and set themselves. Maze popped around the edge of the car immediately drawing fire from two open-air craft. His return fire caused the lead car to slide right and low. Dagon and Skadi dove in on speeder bikes, lasers blazing. Assya rolled out coming up on one knee to point and shoot in less than a second. Her shot just grazed the back of the four seat craft, the high explosive round detonating in a fire ball that pitched the craft end over end until it slammed into a bridge several levels below them.

Izrafel popped out from behind cover draining the weapon's charge in a hail of fire raking two of the four gunmen with laser bolts. Maze focused on the body of the craft causing smoke to billow out of the engine compartment.

The pair of speeder bikes zeroed on the second craft, duel lines of angry red darts shredded the craft as it tumbled into a wall.

“Imperial guests from above” came Sandria’s voice from her X-tie followed instantly by Ryzen “got him” as a stock Headhunter blew into hundreds of pieces high above them.

“Ditch the fighters, do not engage the Imperial units” Dagon screamed over the come as the speeder bikes performed a tight arcing turn to zoom back towards the bridge. Izrafel and Assya ran for the closest enterence while Maze followed keeping his eyes on the skies around them. Laser fire tore a line into the bridge behind them from above as another open topped four seater filled with gunmen swooped in. Izrafel spun around at Maze Ak’Tor’s defiant roar.

“Scatter” her father’s voice roared over the ops com as she tried to track the attacking craft. Green lasers tore through the craft and chewed into the bridge causing it to quake under their feet. Izrafel slapped the door control and leaped behind the edge for cover. A flight of four Tie fighters scream over and under the bridge breaking into pairs as the speeder bikes separate and dive towards the lower levels. Assya and Maze quickly made it through the door and the three begin struggling through the panicked population.

[sharyntyre]

long over due, some one please :bop: me if I let a piece slide more than a few weeks again. Part one is wrapping up soon...

Whistler’s feathers ruffled as she monitored the com chatter on the ops channel. Elongated delicate fingers danced over the control boards preparing the shuttle for another aggressive escape. Scraps and Issun Boshi armed themselves and Issun yelled at her to set the navcom to handle slaving the target’s yacht for their jump out of the system. That was going against Dagon’s command, but there were only a handful of agents around their hanger, and spread out enough to only offer weak and late back up. She trilled her displeasure with the command, but reached over to set things up. The Shashay was the newest member of the small clannish group of mercenaries she took orders from everybody.

Scraps looked down at the Devaronian “take out the pair on the back door and then go put your little toys to work on the yacht. I will dispose of the rest of the net and hold the door for our friends.”

The horned alien nodded and flashed sharp teeth and rolled a ‘flash-bang’ grenade in his left hand. “Knock them off their feet and pump a couple of stun rounds into each of them, easy as crossing the courtyard. The first round is on me this time, see you on the other side.” Issun and Scraps ducked out of the shuttle and moved in opposite directions across the snug hanger.

~*~*~*~*

Kyle frowned as civilians crowded the tower’s hanger decks, even though he shared their desire to flee. Jarred wanted to hijack a ship and leave the city before they wound up tangling with Stormies. It took both order and threat to keep him and Kenly on post at the back door. The team leader had to listened to the ops channel in one ear while planning his next move with the rest of his team. Things were getting ugly, moneybags down, Peittir and his whole team down, Geofry loosing pilots, Ties in the air and Stormies already prowling the city. Shepard’s brilliant litany of curses did nothing to impose order on the chaos.

In less than three minutes, half of Geofry’s flight group got vaped; two by the Inari pilots, three kills for the Imperial pilots. Geofry ordered his pilots to disengage and flee; Shepard stopped cussing long enough to attempt countering the order. That lasted until Geofry pointed out their transport was under command of the pilot’s unit. Kyle thought the pilot was generous in offering to hold a jump out of system until as many as possible were loaded. Shaking his head, he did not bother calling in his plan to evacuate the city.

“We are taking the target’s shuttle and leaving this rat’s nest of a city. We can attempt to rendezvous with the transport, or just jump out on our own.” His men smiled and one joked about the justice of steeling a ship thief’s ship.

“Jarred, storm that hanger, we need control of the shuttle for our exit” Kyle ordered as the three men around him revealed their weapons and turned towards the hanger’s public enterence. He ignored the enthusiastic reply as one of his men gasped and leaped away. Looking down he had time to spot a fist sized object bounce on the floor before being blown off his feet by the stun grenade. His head banged into something hard and he crumpled to the ground.

~*~*~>

Close by another muffled explosion let him know Issun was on the attack as well.
Scraps felt a moment’s pang of regret for the civilians in the middle of this fight, but took what comfort a combat droid could in knowing he was doing all he could to minimize the risks. Four or five innocents were down twitching and holding their heads, crying or moaning. With a carbine in each hand, the droid triggered double blasts of the blue rings of stun shots into the armed men.

Spinning in a quick circle, the eyes within the clam shaped head found nothing but empty passages in each direction, except for the people caught in the stun grenade’s blast, and the downed opponents. “Front door is open” Scraps called into the ops channel.

The Devaronian’s voice came back an instant later. “Back door is secure, key code over ride beta. Moving to take target two, avoid that bay until I give clearance.”

A string of melodic whistling came next with an electronic translation in basic beginning before the Shashay finished singing her report. “Tears at standby, three escape routes plotted.”

Izrafel’s low scratchy tones came next, frustration coloring her tones. “Team intact, no package, on foot. ETA ten minutes.”

*~*~*~*~*~>
The writer is...reworking this.