Juragga nodded to Haarmon, adding "As long as we transmit before we go in."

Then, regarding the kid's question, he nodded. "RuuuAAAWWwwwwr," he commented wryly.  Let's make sure we're not overcomplicating it.

Shard paces back and forth like a caged animal.  "Dammit, Rhijans.  Stop ignoring the comm."  Frustrated, she finishes dressing in full, right down to Things She'd Rather Not Be Carrying Openly™.  Not that anyone will recognize the murder-tool these days...

Ping.  The comm is answered.

"Proceeding smoothly, just have a few minor issues to get resolved and we should be on our way back."

A pause follows as she waits for more.  Then, "Hot void, Rhijans, that's not a satisfactory summation!"  Growling, she keeps the line open, hearing only muttering and mumbling.  Some questions.  Haarmon talking (huge surprise, that), then Juragga's dulcet tones.  Transmit? she wonders.  And go in where?

If she were a real Jedi, she'd calm herself and sit in silence meditation, studying the lint on her toes.  Were she one of the legendary Sith, no doubt she would storm about the cabin raging.  But Shard is Shard.  So I'll just sit inbetween and stew.  Silently.

Her teeth grind.

Mostly.

"The cave's big enough for one ship to go in and out of, but further in it splits into two.  The shuttle's just at the junction, in the entrance to one of the branches." Paxlo confirms that there'll be no need for switching ships over, "Fly Boy here can go in, drop his ship in the other branch, and you can all walk over to the shuttle.  Easy."

"Anything else I can help you with?"

The tech smiles, and then suddenly thinks of something, "Oh, yes!  Probably better to go over there at night.  It's a tourist area, so lots of people with holocams about in the daytime."

Haarmon crossed his arms, a scowl on his face. "I've got a bad feeling about this," he muttered, mostly to himself. But he knew that, not only was there really no other option, that he was the only one with the bad mojo.

Better to be quiet. And to keep his eyes open.

He wanders around the shop a little while the grown-ups talk.

Rhijans grinned, inwardly, at the kid's obvious annoyance.  "I think we can take it for granted that the original owners of the shuttle want it back...we just need to make sure we don't do anything to draw attention to the fact that this is the one they're missing."  Considering the shuttle was Imperial military property, he felt pretty safe in that assessment.  He set part of his mind working on some plausible explanation for the reappearance of a missing shuttle, in the off-chance that some industrious paper-pusher happened to check their transponder codes against any missing ships' registries...

He looked over at Jalt.  "Sound satisfactory to you?" he asked.  He knew the answer was most likely actually 'no'...but he also figured the pilot wasn't likely to say much unless he actually had some better notion of how to get their gear from the Bantha to the shuttle unobserved.  One question Dak had brought up nagged at him again, and he looked at Paxloo.  "How'd you manage to get the shuttle out there and stowed unobserved?  I take it as a given that you've got at least some organization of your own here, in support, so I'm not worried about how you got back...but the kid's got a point.  A random tramp freighter taking off with no registered destination is gonna raise some questions...almost as many questions as an Imperial shuttle would.  How do you suggest we get around that?"  A few well-placed bribes would probably do the job quite effectively, Rhijans figured, but Paxloo should know exactly who would be most likely to accept a bribe with no questions, and deliver the appropriate blank spots in the records in exchange...or verify a logged destination when no such thing was put in place.  Whichever one would be most likely to result in their arrival and departure being nothing beyond normal spaceport traffic...

Reldan nods to Rhijans.  "Sounds like our only option." he says - not exactly happy, but clearly unable to think of a better plan.

Kaer Paxlo smiles and shakes his head, "I didn't put it in the cave.  Like I said, some people stole it a bit more than a year ago and wanted me to sell it for them.  They're the ones who hid it up there, I'm no pilot.  They just asked me to handle the sale because they figured I see a few pilots, but I never heard from them again after that first contact."  He shrugs, "Maybe they ran into trouble the next time they tried to steal from the Impies.  I dunno...  So it's just been sitting up there gathering dust for a year, and I've gone up there every so often to make sure it's all right.  Nobody's been in looking for it in all that time, so I guess it's been written off as a loss.  One less cup of karlini tea for every Imperial bureaucrat in the sector would probably more than cover the cost of the thing."

Reldan jumps in, "I can handle getting us out there without drawing too much attention.  It's what I do when I'm not piloting stolen shuttles."

Rhijans nodded, at both the explanation of the shuttle's origin and Jalt's reassurance that he could get them to the volcano safely.  "Well, then, I'd say we best be getting ready to go.  This mission isn't gonna get any easier with a few days' waiting, that's certain."  He looked at the other group members, hoping for a consensus, of sorts, even if it might be reluctant.

Paxloo's story for the shuttle wasn't as reassuring as he would like...but he could only hope that the Rebel leaders had vetted this particular contact before entrusting the fate of such a crucial mission to his discretion.  Truth was, they didn't really have much choice...either the man was solid and could be trusted, or they were going to be waving in the wind.  But they needed that shuttle, and they needed the codes he'd given them, and there weren't any options to get either one from someone else.

"Rhijans!"  Shard stalks back and forth in the ship, eyes hard and narrowed.  The waiting, the lack of knowledge, it's driving her batty. "Going to go Nimadda's route if this continues," she hisses, halting her foot just before it (pointlessly) impacts with a chair. "It's the ship.  The ship."

Her foot comes down and, with its sibling, begins the process of taking her to the hatch.  Along the way, she snags her drab travel cloak, tossing it over her uniform.  "Going out," Shard mutters, keeping a tight grip on the comm.  They can page her if they need something, but for now she's going to check the lay of the land.

"You have no patience," her master intones as Shard rubs her aching head.  "But you will."

"Patience," she grumbles, opening the hatch and keying the lock for when it closes.  "How long will that take?"  Ducking her head out, she takes a quick glance around the ship's bay.

Juragga echoed Shard's impatience.  He warbled a rejoinder for the party to get a move on back to the ship.

He hated sitting on important info, was one part of it.  Until Haarmon transmitted that data back to the Colonel, he'd have an itch between his shoulderblades.

It wouldn't do for the intel to die with them, if things went badly...

While Shard gives a less-than-stellar demonstration of controlling her emotions and avoiding a rapid fall to the Dark Side, Rhijans and the others seem to have decided that they have no more questions for Kaer Paxlo.  They say their farewells and head out of the maintenance shop.  Just as he is about to step out of the door, Reldan stops and turns back, "This security code?  Do you have any idea what it would be used for?"

Paxlo nods, "Oh, that's right.  Could be handy to at least have a rough idea in case there are any questions.  The contact who provided it said it's something to do with ISB."

That part, at least, fits with their own plan.  Maybe the Force is with them after all.

They set off back through the festering underbelly of the port, looking for their route back to the surface.

Shard, meanwhile steps out of the ship and into the docking bay.  It seems to be empty, apart from a few cargo containers against one wall which look as though they might have been there for some time.  One of them is open.

Still grumbling, but her emotional turbulence reduced to a small roil rather than a storm, Shard paces out into the docking bay, the door locked behind her.  Pursing her lips, she breathes out slowly and settles herself.  Not empty, no.  Just...calm.  Midpoint between the void and storm.

Balancing act.

She glances over to the containers, then at the various exits.  Noting their positions, the older woman twitches her cloak about herself, muffling her uniform, and paces over to the open container, leaning over for a brief look.  It's probably refuse, but one never knows.

Enroute, Juragga did his best to keep his senses perked whilst not appearing twitchy.  He didn't want to draw any more attention to them than he usually did, being 2 meters tall and shaggy.

Rhijans was too busy thinking to take the time to comm Shard and let her know they were coming back.  He was calculating local time...how soon to sundown...flight time to the volcano and load-out time...

Would they have enough time to make the approach and departure again without being noticed?  And while he was sure that the thought had crossed Jalt's mind, he was also wondering about how to get back and retrieve their own ship again after they were done.

And the security code left him pondering.  ISB...  "When we get there, probably a good idea to have your astromech go over the thing as thoroughly as we can in the time we'll have available.  I'm guessing, if there were tracking devices aboard, someone would have come calling for it already...but you never know."  He spoke, more or less, out of the side of his mouth to Jalt, keeping his eyes up and forward, letting those parts of his mind that weren't chewing on the problems at hand focus on watching out for surprises or someone who might give them trouble.  Caution (some might call it paranoia) dictated that it would be unwise to mention the shuttle aloud...

Haarmon nodded appreciatively at Rhijans' plan. As a computer expert, he always had a bit of a love-hate with astromech droids. Lots of people thought there was little point in a mere meat-stick learning to work the wires when a mobile trashcan could do it twice as good, twice as fast.

But to Haarmon, that was like saying why learn to walk when you had a speeder? Every job had a tool, and every tool has a job. You only got into trouble when you forgot that.

Looking for bugs and such was just the sort of thing an astromech droid was made for. Leave the real Slicing to the meat-sticks.

"Rhijans," he said, "When we get back to the ship, I'm gonna patch into... Head Office, like, and update them on what's what down here. Might even skiff the nets a little, yeah? See if I can see what's what based on what we all been talking about here? I'd do it now, but I don't trust the connections."

Shard peers into the top of the open container and discovers that, as expected, it contains garbage.  Which is surprising - presumably somebody must have run out of space on the floor at some time and started to throw stuff into the first available receptacle.

Also surprising is the fact that something seems to be moving in there, hidden bemeth the trash... 

The rest of the team make their way back to the elevator and ride up to the surface, discussing security concerns along the way.  Reldan Jalt pats Haarmon on the shoulder, "Don't worry.  My ship's got good security.  You should be able to get a secure connection."

The elevator opens, and they step out into the corridor.  The door where they spoke to the woman earlier, and asked for directions, stands wide open.  Something electrical seems to be shorting out inside, random discharges occasionally casting hard edged shadows into the passageway...

"Well, well," Shard mutters, frowning into the trash receptacle.  Her hand drops - first to her blaster, then sliding slowly, unwillingly along her belt to grip smooth metal.  Pursing her lips, she whistles once, then reaches her free hand into the container.

Fingers lightly take hold of the top piece of refuse, and she twitches it out of the way, stepping back in the same motion.

Hope it's not a baby mynok...

Rhijans eased forward, hand dropping to the grip of his blaster smoothly, but not pulling it from the holster yet, and took a look inside the doorway.  He'd figured there would be trouble in there, of some sort...he just hoped it wasn't something that would have stormtroopers double-timing it down the hallway toward them as they were trying to get back to the ship.

His initial instinct was to just walk on by...they weren't here for this.  But if someone was injured inside, and they were caught walking away--well, even if they could prove they weren't responsible, they'd still be asked why they did nothing.  At least, this way, if they knew what was inside, they could use the 'I was going for help' explanation.  And, as far as he knew, his IPKC was still valid...he could stall while the others got back to the ship...he probably had the best odds of getting through a close ID scrutiny without alerts coming up.

Reldan Jalt follows close behind Rhijans, and with just as much caution...

The room beyond the door is a mess.  Furnishings have been knocked over or broken.  Cabinets and drawers stand open.  The flashes are coming from a large wall monitor, which currently has a metal waste bin wedged into the middle of its broken screen, and many of its internal components hanging out, like the guts of a claw cat victim.

Talking of which...

There is a body, a human male, laying face down on the floor.  He isn't moving.  He is wearing a business suit which, even from the back, looks as if it has seen better days.  But not recently.

Shard pulls the piece of trash aside, and she steps back.  A moment later a small scaly animal, about twenty centimetres long, from the tip of its snout to the end of its stubby tail hops up onto the edge of the container, where it perches upright, holding on with its hind feet, while the front two pairs are held in front of its chest.

It watches Shard carefully, trilling musically, while two similar creatures join it on the rim of the container and start serenading her.

Then the first one opens its mouth wide, clearly demonstrating the centimetre long fangs which fold down from its palate.  All three hiss at the woman, brightly coloured fins suddenly unfurling where their ears should be...

Rhijans followed his first impulse...which, oddly enough, was to ignore the body for a moment.  His gaze panned around the room slowly, looking for any sign of a threat that he was fairly certain had already left the area.

Only once he was satisfied that there was nobody in the room that might spring an ambush on them did he take his hand off the blaster pistol and crouch down, looking the body over carefully...for indications that it was actually a body and not a corpse, or indications of any injuries...or that it had been booby-trapped...

"Hot void," Shard mutters as she slowly - very slowly - backs away from the three scavengers.

They're in the middle of a spaceport.  They're probably not dangerous.  What they're doing is probably a display to frighten off predators and other larger beings.

It's working.

Licking her lips, Shard slowly draws the metal cylinder from her belt as she shuffles backward, not wanting to trip.  She'll never, ever hit something as small as they are with a blaster, even at this range.  Krevan used to laugh at me about that, comes the wayward thought.  Offered to teach me.  Always figured he just wanted into my pants.

She misses Krevan, nine years dead now, and suddenly wishes she had taken him up on his offer.  Offers.  Whatever.

Relax, Shard.  Somewhere between placidity and calm, that's where she needs to be right now.  Only...she can't quite make it there.  Too much surprise, too much heart pounding, too little practice recently thanks to too much alcohol.  "Wonderful," the woman murmurs, thumb on the switch of her weapon.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:49, Thu 01 Nov 2012.

Haarmon had seen a few dead (and dead-ish) bodies by now, so it wasn't the shock it might have been. But his sheltered and fantasy-addled mind still reeled at the sight and the smell of dead, roasting, rotting meat. His vision swam for a moment until he bit down on his tongue. No going weak sister, he told himself, not in front of Rhijans.

He took a deep breath and swallowed once or twice. "I'll.. uhh..." he started, trying not to sound as shaky as he felt, "Rhijans? We got time to search the computers? Maybe get some clues or whatever?"

The nausea took the edge off his bravado anyway. Thank the Force for small favours.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:00, Mon 05 Nov 2012.

Rhijans didn't look away as he continued his scrutiny of the room and then the body, answering with an even, business-like tone.  "If you can find an intact terminal, sure...if it's something we've gotta patch together in order to make it functional, better skip it.  If we're in the middle of piecing the computer back together when any authorities arrive, it's gonna be a hard explanation to make as to why we didn't rush off for help."  The last thing they needed right now was an extended detention to answer a lot of questions about a crime that they didn't know anything about.

The trio of animals seem to calm down a little as Shard backs away.  One of them even drops back to its scavenging.  The other two keep watching the woman, though only the first one is still hissing at her, and that only sporadically.  Whatever they are, they seem to only threaten when they feel that they are being threatened.

There is a tearing sound from inside the container, and both remaining animals quickly look to see what it is.  The second hops down to investigate.  The original one looks back at Shard, folding away the coloured head fins.  After a few seconds of simply watching the woman, it gives a disdainful snort and returns to the important business of searching through the trash...

UY-3P0 steps into the room and notices Rhijans examining the body.  "Oh my goodness.  How perfectly barbaric.  This sort of thing is why I will always trust droids over organics."

The man, middle aged and slightly overweight, is probably beyond worrying about his health.  Rhijans and Haarmon can both see that his throat seems to have been cut.

R2-O0 rolls up and bumps against Haarmon's leg, whistling loudly, before backing away.  "He says that he believes he knows where there is a dataport."

The astromech unit starts away towards the farthest corner of the room, carefully avoiding the corpse...

"Just be prepared to cut loose from the system if someone comes investigating.  And make sure any video feeds in the room are deactivated...last thing we need is someone to look at this and wonder who we are and why we came in here poking around."  The last part of the question, he was asking himself...but information was sometimes your best weapon, and they were here now...

He stepped away from the body, back to the doorway.  From here, he should theoretically be able to hear if somebody was coming down the hall, giving him time to burst out of the room as though going for help and thus buying time for Dak and the droids to close up whatever they were working on...

Unlimbering his bowcaster, Juragga moved to cover Rhijans.  This mission had taken a rather rotten turn - literally.

He rumbled a query to Dak over his shoulder.  You okay, kid?