As soon as the droids are aboard, Rhijans Thanus edges the vehicle out of the way, towards the building's exit, closely followed by the swoops.  If the worst happens, at least from there it's a short dash to the street, and pursuing stormtroopers will have a harder job keeping up once the vehicle is out in the open, and is able to use a little speed.

There is a nice view from there of the area directly outside the structure, and Shard, Mark Jacobs and Shisskurr are clearly visible, now only about 75 metres away and approaching at a fast walk.

They stand out, quite nicely, against the backdrop of white stormtrooper armour, only about fifty metres beyond them.

Every other person in the street, except one, is scattering to avoid the troopers.  That one, a woman wearing a black jumpsuit and a long, dark brown coat, appears to be leading them.

Rhijans slowed the transport a bit, not quite sure of what to do.  He let the vehicle coast for a moment as he grabbed his commlink.

"[COMM] I hope that parade coming up the street behind you isn't for us," he quipped.  "I'm pretty sure nobody in our detachment of this little enterprise is deserving of full military honors..."  He scowled as he tried to make out whether the stormtroopers...or the black-clad individual leading them...seemed to be focused on the trio.  It could just be coincidence that they were all headed the same way at the same time...but Rhijans wasn't generally inclined to buy into coincidences.

"[COMM] You want us to sit tight and wait for you, or come pick you up?"  Trying to pick the point of focus of a stormtrooper formation over 120 meters away was kind of like trying to shoot a starship out of orbit with a hand-blaster, he realized.

"No time to split off now," Shard mutters, snagging Jacobs' arm and continuing on their way (assuming Jacobs allows this).  She listens as the pilot's comm snaps and crackles with Rhijans' query, even as the place between her shoulderblades itches.  She doesn't dare focus, doesn't dare concentrate, no matter how much she wants to do so.

Not with that woman behind her.

"We'll come to them," she hisses.  "Nobody drives toward that many stormtroopers, and we don't want to look like we're in a hurry.  Just tell them to make sure the cursed repulsors are warmed up."  Her fingers itch for the feel of smooth metal, and she stuffs both hands beneath her heavy, rainproof cloak.  One fingernail on her left hand taps against her flask, and Shark resists the urge to pull it and drink.

Her right hand touches cold steel of a different sort, and bile's bitterness taints her mouth.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:07, Tue 04 Jan 2011.

"Alright, alright." Mark replied as he followed Shard toward the transport. Got a bad feeling about this.

The trio reach the transport, with the troopers still a good fifty metres behind.  Neary has the hatch open, ready for them to climb aboard, and Rhijans guns the motor even before it has closed behind them.

The transport and the two swoops surge forward, into the street, and veer away from the approaching stormtroopers, forced to pass within about twenty metres of the woman who leads them.  She is öf average height, and slim build, with mousy hair and a face which looks as though it doesn't smile often enough.  Her clothing is black, for the most part, interspersed with dark greys and blues.  In her right hand, she carries a short metal bar or cylinder.

As the vehicles move off, accelerating rapidly (but not too rapidly) she pauses to look at them, and her frown deepens, momentarily...

Rhijans kept his eyes scanning the city around them.  Now that it appeared their getaway was in process, he didn't want to jam the works by crashing into someone or something.  But he had to know...

"So, what did you learn as you were out scouting around?  And why the hell did you have enough stormtroopers to level the city following you?"  He called it out over his shoulder, his eyes never turning away from the course ahead.  It was the reverse of the route they'd come in on, backtracking the path that had been seemingly travelled just a short while earlier--and weeks ago, as the analytical part of his mind had stretched out every instant of the entire time they'd been in town, scouring each moment for any tell-tale indicator that things were going sour.  He was careful to keep his speed at or just slightly above the speed of traffic around him, trying as best he knew how to appear to be nothing more than a delivery vehicle trying to keep on schedule.

"Nothing good."  Shard stares out the back window of the van, studying the woman as she vanishes into the distance.  What is she doing, working with Stormtroopers?  Nauseated, feeling the universe turning over on her, the woman turns and slowly slides down into the seat.  "Everything I've got to say, people will figure is crazy.  Let's just get our equipment and get out of here."

It made no sense.  Whatever she thought of them, Shard would never picture one of the jedi as an Imperial Envoy.  Until now.

The small convoy moves on, heading away from the stormtroopers and their search.  Just as the vehicles swing around a corner, the last few gleaming white suits of armour can be seen vanishing into the customs building.  There is no sign of the dark clothed woman, though that might just be a matter of distance.

Before too long, they pass through the protective shield and are, once more, outside the city.

But almost as a reminder that it's probably best not to get too cocky, just yet, a group of TIE bombers can be seen circling high overhead...

Rhijans shrugged at Shard's reply, and stayed tight-lipped for the rest of the drive out of town, keeping an eye on the rear-view until the stormtroopers had all vanished from sight.  He relaxed a bit as it appeared they'd made good their escape...no alarms sounded, no Imperial blockades appeared in front of them, and he relaxed even more as they exited the city.

The TIE bombers circling above reminded him that they weren't out of this whole situation yet, however.  He opened the throttle up gently, speeding up to a standard cruising speed, doing his best to appear to be just another innocuous vehicle making a transit from one city to the other.  At this point, there was really not much more to be done, however.  As they proceeded onward, he reviewed their trip thus far, and reached for his commlink.

"[COMM]Okay, gents, we should be passing back under those floating things pretty soon...hopefully, they stay the same altitude or go higher, as the day goes on, but be ready for 'em.  And with a little luck, our friendly neighborhood swoop gangers will have decided that they've had enough trouble today and gone home by the time we get there."

Still lost in thought, Shard jerks at Rhijans' assessment of their situation.  Pushing back, she cranes her neck to see out the window behind herself, then curses softly.  "Not a thing I can do about those," the woman mutters, fumbling around in her cloak.  Out comes the flask, and she takes a long, slow drink.

Still the image of the woman sits in her mind.

Not going to drive it out that way, Shard.  The flask vanishes, and she settles herself back. "Guess we wait and see."  Now she raises her voice, aiming for the forward compartment.  "Did we get what we came for?"

Rhijans shrugged, calling back over his shoulder.  "As far as I know...I mean, we didn't crack open every crate to check, but the one we looked in had what we were after..."

He shrugged again.  The droid had been the one in charge, and it hadn't tried to take them anywhere else...he figured that meant they'd done what they'd been sent to do.

The trio of vehicles cross the first pass, and descend into the broad vale beyond.

The large floating creatures have moved along a little, and are now mostly spread out downwind of the roadway.  The nearest is about a half kilometre away as the rebels pass them, and barely visible through the dense foliage of the forest and the mist of spores and seeds.

A convoy of about a dozen cargo transports goes by at a good speed, headed in the opposite direction, towards Ker Aldas.  From the variety of markings on them, they look to belong to several different businesses.

As soon as the traffic is left behind, the swoop piloted by Reldan Jalt moves up alongside the transport, and the comm system crackles to life.

"Want me to scout ahead a little way, just in case?"

Neary, sitting quietly up against a wall and tinkering with Wheely listens to the others and finally, without looking up, says "Wonder who they were actually looking for?"

She doubts it was someone not too important, or they would not have called in all those forces.  Perhaps a berserker Ewok.  Or maybe an acrobatic Hutt cat-burglar.  She chuckles at the images popping into her mind, although she doubts any of them fits.

An equipment locker in the rear of the transport pops open, and a voice comes from it, "Ah...  That would be me."

Both of Shard's hands disappear inside her cloak, and she stands, swaying slightly in the speeding vehicle.  Great.  Careful, Shard.  You'll end up doing the imperials' job for them if you're not careful.

At least it wasn't them the imperials were after...maybe.

"Now would be a good time to come out very, very slowly with your hands in view," she states, cycling back through her memories to see if they've said anything hugely incriminating over the last few minutes.

"And why the hell did you have enough stormtroopers to level the city following you?"

"Did we get what we came for?"

It's not...horrible, but it's enough to pique a stowaway's curiousity.

It was only with the greatest of efforts that Rhijans kept his hands on the controls, instead of grabbing for his blaster and covering who or whatever had spoken.  Dammit...I KNEW this was going too smoothly...

At least whoever it was couldn't be Imperial.  Why put someone on the transport and then have it fly out past an entire formation of stormtroopers?  Why, indeed, Rhijans mused.  His suspicious mind could think of a few dozen reasons.

Thus far, however, it sounded like Shard had things under control...with Jacobs and Shisskurr to back her up, Rhijans didn't fear much for anyone trying to take control of the transport.  They had the internal problems in hand...he needed to focus outside.

"[COMM]Yeah, Jalt, if you can make sure we don't have a welcoming committee waiting just over the rise, that'd be great.  We'll still have to go through them, but if we know they're waiting, we can go in guns blazing instead of waiting for them to shoot first."  He tried to keep the testy edge out of his voice...it wouldn't do for the pilot to be distracted by wondering what was going wrong in the transport.  If the swoop gangers were laying in wait, Jalt might need all his attention on getting clear again.

"Your presense places us in great danger," Jihon Mogg says. "Please, do us the courtesy of showing yourself."

Threats ... warnings ... demands ... he senses that none of these mattered much to their guest.

"We won't try to kill you as long as you don't try to kill us."

From behind the locker door a pair of orange hands shot forth, boasting spread fingers.

"See? Nothing there!" The girlie voice carried a cheerful tone. "Ready or not, here I come!"

More orange followed, first the arms then the rest of the orange Twi'lek.  Once free of the locker she, for it was indeed a female, smiled and waved at the group before her.

"Hiya! I'm Tfalta Dawl! A pleasure to meet you!"

The outfit, while sparse, was not the style most Twi'lek were given to wear, but more functional. At her left hip a single metallic cylinder could be seen. A dancer she was not.

Standing up at the first sound from the locker Neary reaches for her gun, but does not draw it.  At least not yet.

"What the?  How the...?  Where'd you come from?" she asks, trying to figure out how she could have missed someone coloured brightly orange sneaking into the transport.

"The Twi'lek they were looking for," Shard breathes.  She glances at the woman's hip, then stabs a finger at the metal tube.  "There," she states authoratively, throwing a look at Jacobs.  "I told you I heard one of those cursed things."

Hands still under her cloak, she stalks forward to face the cheerful little killing machine.  "It was you that woman was chasing.  Thank you so much for bringing her attention down on us.  So why?  Beyond you cutting up a bunch of troopers, that is."

And being what you are.

"Yes, please," Mogg says, planting two hands on his hips and tilting his head forward. Less cheerful pleasantry and more answers would be appreciated for moment. Pleased to meet you, of course, but I say again you have us in danger. Explain, please."

Rhijans snarled quietly to himself.  "HEY!!!" he yelled out, hoping to get someone's attention.

"For the benefit of those of us who CAN'T LOOK BACK THERE, would someone tell me what the blazes is going on?"  As if to punctuate his words, the transport wobbled just a bit, the vehemence of his yelling causing him to pull every-so-slightly at one control.

"We have a stowaway," Shard begins, sticking to the obvious first.  She catches her balance on a nearby handhold, but leaves her right hand under her cloak.  "A Twi'lek - the stormtroopers back there mentioned they were looking for one of these."

The older woman purses her lips thoughtfully.  "Everything started to go bad when we heard an odd sound and a couple of stormtroopers took a long fall out of a building.  I've heard that sound before - a lightsaber.  And before anyone gets bent out of shape on how those things aren't around any more, she's got one hanging from her belt."

Her eyes rise to the Twi'lek's.  "You a Jedi, little girl?  Or just someone who got lucky?"

At the word 'stowaway', Rhijans rolled his eyes.  Yep, something DEFINITELY had to go wrong...  It just hadn't been the 'something' he'd been expecting.

At 'lightsaber', he shook his head, and at 'Jedi', he snorted in outright disbelief.  He didn't say anything, however.  He'd heard of Jedi...who in the galaxy hadn't?  But it, like many other myths throughout the galaxy, had never had any place in his life, or his culture.  But he was willing to wait and hear how Shard's question was answered.

"Oh my aren't you an inquisitive bunch! Let's see now, who was first with what? Oh yes! Why?" Tfalta waved her hands as if trying to fend of all the questions ganging up on her.

"Can I answer now? Alrightie! Why is of course a huge question but I will make a leap of conclusion and make the bold deduction that you mean 'Why are you hiding in our vehicle?' and nothing else, such as 'Why does the sun rise' or any other general life brooding and usually bigger 'Why'." The words poured out with both ease and speed, the hands doing as much talking as the mouth. Catching her breath inserted a pause, however brief.

"Oh yes, why. Right. Because it was evidently from out of town and ready to leave! An obvious place to hide away!" She nodded her head eagerly, then stopped and began to shake it instead. "But, oh no no, no, I did not draw attention to you at all. I hid, obviously in the locker too, but what I mean is I concealed myself from her. Oh she is a piece of work that one! Ghea Nimadda, right hand of the Imperial governor and all that. Jedi? Me? Well yes and no and perhaps more than most today but not yet at the same level as those who were before, but, hmm, yes, I suppose so."

Another brief pause and then a smile and step towards Shard.

"You are familiar with things then! Yes, one of those, as you say. Are you a Jedi yourself? But no, perhaps not? But there ..something..." She finally began to slow down and stared at Shard with great interest, starting to half reaching out towards her.

Mark's blaster did come out when the Twi'lek emerged from the cargo. "Ok. You're doing a lot of talking, but you're not really talking. Tell us what we want to know."

"And tell us what you think we don't want to know."

Mark glanced at Shard, then back to the Twi'lek.

Neary takes a seat again and watches as their passenger starts talking.  Lightsaber?  Jedi?  What the heck did the others do when they were in town?  But she holds back on the questions, to both, and just listens and waits.

Shard doesn't move an inch when the alien comes closer, though her lip curls slightly when the girl gets around to the point; instead, she narrows her eyes and jerks a thumb toward Mark.  "Better answer his question.  I'm not the one under interrogation right now."

Not jedi, not quite.  Some kind of apprentice.  What was the word again?  Padawan?  It has been a long time, with too many binges.

But anger sparks in her eyes when the girl reaches out, and she holds up a hand, the meaning clear: look, but don't touch.  "I'm not a Jedi," Shard hisses through her teeth, the name spat out like a curse.  "But that one back at the port was, and if you can feel things, then so can she and probably better.  Which makes you a beacon if you try anything here.  So don't."

Watching Mark Tfalta's expression turned into a mixture of amusement and confusion as she watched Mark.

"You know what? I like you so I will do that, as soon as you tell me what is it you want to know! Fair enough? Yes? Good!" The big smile returned. "Hrmm. I think you don't want to hear that those trousers went out of fashion like five years ago and that the hairdo, ah, it has yet to be in fashion!"

Her attention switched to Shard and a finger wagged. "Tsk tsk. Shame on you, calling her a Jedi. She is nothing of the kind. A cold, heartless killing machine she is!" A sad shake of the head followed.

"So you do know! You once followed the path? But fear not, I am no more beacon than she is Jedi! Not to her, no no. Nope! But careful with that temper! The Dark Side and all, y'know!" Her tattooed eyebrows wiggled at the last part.

"Back into crate," Mogg says, shaking his head. "We dump with  rest of trash once we break orbit. She not answer questions. We not help. That or she not smart enough to see question when asked. Either way ... no more useless talk.""

Mark thumbed a setting on the Blastech Heavy Blaster. "Good idea. Dump the trash before this get complicated."


EDIT: Spelling Error :)
This message was last edited by the player at 20:02, Fri 14 Jan 2011.

Rhijans snorted again.  "'Before...'?" he called back over his shoulder.  "This has been complicated ever since they told us we had to follow a droid to find our contact."  He shook his head...he couldn't believe he was about to say this, but it needed to be said...

"Regardless of whether she's crazy, or stupid, the Empire put a lot of effort into looking for her.  Anything valuable to the Empire might be even more valuable to someone else...she needs to go back to Command, let them figure out what to do with her."  He fought the urge to spit in disgust...but he didn't want to risk a cleaning charge when he returned the transport.

"A cold, heartless killing machine she is!"

"I fail to see the difference."  Shaking her head, Shard turns away from the lunatic and marches back to the others, ignoring the rest of what the girl has to say.  Some garbage about her following 'the path'.  "I'm all for dumping her - alive - but if Jalt wants her around, fine.  I'm not dealing with her, though."

She sits down on a bench, putting her head against the wall.  "Someone better take her weapon, though, unless you trust her carrying that thing around.  I don't."  Shard closes her eyes, arranging her cloak around herself again.  "Going to be a problem, though, if that woman with the 'troopers is looking for her.  They'll be searching every ship out of the port."

Neary snorts and shakes her head, then sighs.

"I'm with Rhijans, in case anyone's counting votes.  No idea if she's loony, but then I think anyone who believes in 'the farce' is loony so that may not count if you're actually buying into it."

She shakes her head again and sits down where she sat before, looking everyone over in turn.

"Just glad I'm not the one running from the troopers, then running into us.  Not saying we'd trust her, but people, the Empire's the bad guys here, for crying out loud."

"Start giving free rides to everyone who tries to get away from the Empire," Shard notes, "you'll end up with a full hold laced with a couple of Imperial spies.  We can help people, but at the cost of the mission?  Cost of maybe giving away our base?"

Then she shrugs.  "But like you say, we don't have to trust her, and we sure can't dump her in the middle of nowhere, not with the bad air and all.  So it sounds like you just volunteered to be the one taking care of her, so make sure you don't miss that weapon."

"Oh trash talk! Bad boys! Almost sounded like you believed yourself there too!" said Tfalta and smiled at Jihon and Mark in turn.

"Command, yes. Take me to your leader!" she said, still smiling. "Yes, the Empire doesn't like me, I've been naughty, sabotaging for them. Even made an automated harvester make a house call at the Governor of Vonin's mansion. Redecorating. He wasn't overcome with gratitude, though."

She gives a firm shake of the head and her gaze turned to Shard. "Biiiig difference! She kills for pleasure, although she enjoys almost killing even more, so she's nothing like you lot at all! Padawan gone bad before even getting trained properly, now on the Dark side. Bad seed!"

A hand went down to pat the metallic cylinder, without actually gripping it. "I'll keep it, thanks! Beside, she's looking in the city back there, not the one you are going to! If you want I can of course make it on my own from here! But it is the force, not farce!"

"Fine, I can watch her.  I gotta just say, though, if I'd run into you guys when I was running from the Imperial army, well, I guess I'd been dead now," Neary says with a sullen tone and shakes her head yet again.  She throws her hands up and half growls, "C'mon, you guys seriously think they stage this whole hunt for our sake so we'd take a spy in, rather than capturing us?  Very flattering, but I don't think we're that much of a nuisance to them, not yet."

"I'm Neary.  As far as I'm concerned you can keep your trinket, just don't try any funny stuff, or I'll show you a heartless killing machine," she says to Tfalta and pulls out her concealed blaster.  "Can we get moving now or are we going to wait for the troopers to add things up and come looking for us?" she asks impatiently.  Sitting around was not her idea of a good time, unless she was about to blow something up.

The comm panel chooses that moment to crackle, and Reldan's voice issues from it, "Uh, guys, I'm on my way back to you right now!"  From outside the transport the sound of a swoop motor is growing louder.  Perhaps a little too loud?

In the gloom of the forest, a rider appears on the road, some distance ahead.  Moving fast and sweeping from one side of the highway to the other and back again as blaster fire strikes the road and the surrounding foliage.

"I've got a swoop gang close on my tail, maybe six or seven of them, and I don't think they were planning on admiring my ride."

"The difference between you - and anyone else halfways sane - and her," Shard acidly explains to Narf, "is that we would have gotten straight talk from you, and you'd probably understand our reasons for asking for your weapon until we could verify things.  We have a person who snuck onto our ride, who may have brought down imperial eyes on us during a mission, and who is asking us one heck of a favour.  A little cooperation, straightforwardness, and seriousness might have gone a long way toward smoothing things over.  Instead?  Clowning and a refusal to turn over her weapon."

The co-pilot should understand that much - she is, after all, a professional.

"Well, that's on your head," she mutters, the anger fading from her tone.  "She's all yours."

Moments later, they have a new problem to deal with.

"Great.  Maybe our guest can jump out and leap from swoop to swoop, cutting them to pieces."  Shard affixes her breathmask.  "Don't forget to give her a mask before she chokes to death."

I should be so lucky...

The whip-thin woman makes her way forward to the pilot compartment, where she reaches a hand out to Rhijans.  "Blaster.  Unless you want me driving."  Her teeth flash in a smile.  "Promise I'll give it back, and if we ever find one, I'll never need to bug you again."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:54, Mon 17 Jan 2011.

Neary grins and says, "You weren't there when I first met up with those who claim to oppose the Empire.  Yeah, my head, and I'll stake it on her being on our side," she rounds of and waves a hand dismissively.

"Great, old friends dropping by," she sighs as the news comes about the swoop gang making a reappearance.

Rhijans pulled out the heavy blaster and handed it over to Shard.  "Next time, someone else gets to drive...we don't have time to change drivers, I think, and if anyone's watching us, a mysterious stop in the middle of nowhere's gonna attract attention that we don't want."

He called back over his shoulder.  "I hope you can fight with a blaster, because there's still aerial surveillance, at least, if they don't have someone in orbit eyeballing this section of the planet.  I'd rather have a few blaster scores on the transport than have someone waving a lightsaber around."  That was about all he'd ever learned about Jedi in his time out in the galaxy, and it was really more than he'd ever wanted to know about them.  "I'm willing to gamble on you being more than just some random crazy person, but if you wind up compromising our mission and drawing attention to us now that we're almost out, I'll shoot you myself.  Without a second thought."  It was a statement of fact, no threat in his voice.  He might have been just as easily talking about discarding a faulty power cell for his weapon.

"Goodie," Shard mutters, taking the weapon. "Teach me how, I'll be happy to drive one of these.  I'd lay copper to gold you're a better shot than me."  She pauses.  "Funny thought.  I'm half-inclined to radio those Tie Bombers flying around and tell them we're being attacked by bandits.  See if our tax dollars are doing any good."  She grimaces.  "Only thing is maybe they'd want us to talk with someone afterward, and we have our guest to consider."

Moving back the rear, she checks to make certain everyone has their breather on.  No sense in opening a window until then.  The sudden shift in Rhijans opinion from defending their visitor to warning her against giving them away (on pain of death) makes her smile and shake her head.  Professional, that one.  Perhaps a little too professional.

I guess I'm not, in the end.  I've got to keep them all alive, even the annoying one.

Mark waved to the door. "Alright. Out!" The man with the blaster apparently decided. "Out, or I'll blast you since you're not tell me why we should harbor a jedi."

Mark motioned for Shisskurr to open the access hatch. "Now git going."

Rhijans barked back over his shoulder.  "Hey, until I'm convinced she's doing us wrong, I'm not dumping anybody in the middle of nowhere at 120 kilometers an hour.  Especially not when we've got a swoop gang closing on us.  You throw her out now, you better go out right behind her, unless you want trouble with me."  Again, the tone was extremely matter-of-fact.  Rhijans didn't know if he could take Jacobs, or not...but he did have his own twisted sense of ethics and he wasn't going to let someone else compromise them unchallenged.

"If she can hold a blaster, she can make herself useful.  We'll toss her later, if we still feel like it!"  He wasn't tremendously worried about the swoop gang, unless they managed to disable the transport.  They were thugs, and most thugs buckled when faced with determined resistance.

They had, however, had their egos bruised earlier today, and that changed the equation.  They only had one swoop to back up the transport, but a couple of extra blasters from the transport...if they were in good hands...could make a lot of difference.

"Alright, Jedi. Looks like you have an angel watching over you." Mark holstered the blaster. "We'll have the discussion later.

---

Mark walked to Rhijan. "So what's the situation?" He looked over his shoulder and checked on the jedi before he continued talking to Rhijan in a lower voice.  "And how many swoops this time?"

Rhijans shook his head.  "Don't know how many, Jalt didn't say and I suspect he probably didn't get a full count.  How many probably depends on whether they realize we're the ones that fought them off earlier today or they think we're just another transport coming through.  Gang egos are pretty fragile, if they think we did them wrong, they'll want to try and take out their frustrations.  May want to do it, anyway.  Or, they may see us and recall that they did absolutely nothing effective against us, and lost several swoops, and decide they're better off conserving their strength to punish a weaker target."  He shrugged.

"Until we see their reaction to us, there's no way of being sure what the response will be.  I think we'll have a lot less trouble if we go in, guns blazing, especially if we can ground three or four of 'em right off the bat.  Gangs get demoralized pretty quickly, in my experience, if they suffer heavy losses right away."

He said nothing in acknowledgment of Jacobs' comment to the Jedi.  Didn't need to, really...there were more important issues to deal with.

"You'd better get us in closer quickly," Shard shouts, peering out the window, heavy blaster pistol in hand.  "Or Jalt's going to be in serious trouble!"

One man against a group - bad odds for the man, good odds for the group.  Better to defend as a unit.

"Pass out the spare blasters," she mutters, again checking to see if everyone has their breath-mask on.

Rhijans nodded.  "I can't push this thing much faster without risking us crashing, but Jalt's coming back toward us.  The distance is gonna close fast.  And I mis-spoke myself...he said 'six or seven' were following him, but I'm betting there are more that he hasn't picked up on, yet.  I could be wrong...without knowing how large the gang is, there's no way to know how many of them could be out there."  He grabbed his breath filter, ready to pop it on at a moment's notice.

"Everyone get ready...at the speed we're closing, we're going to have a matter of seconds to start shooting once we see Jalt."

"They won't see us.  The Empire, that is.  Even with what surveillance they might have would have to contend first with the atmosphere and then the canopy of the forest.  So unless they're tracking us, which I doubt, it won't matter what we weapon we use.  I know that much for certain," Neary claims and gets up, ready to start taking shots at the gang that insists on getting to know them better.

Rhijans shrugged, moving very slightly to avoid moving the controls.  "Better safe than sorry.  Stick to the blasters."  A little paranoia went a long ways, in his experience, and he felt like they'd pushed their luck about as far as they could expect it to go.

Jalt's voice comes from the comms again, "Ready or not, here I come!"  There is a shrieking roar which rattles the transport, and downshifts in frequency as the swoop goes past, flat out.  In its wake, dead leaves, seeds and spores swirl in a vortex of churned air.

Rhijans manages to hold the bucking transport on the road, though it drops sharply and bangs its belly against the ground.  Not hard, but enough to make its occupants stagger.

Ahead, seven swoops are rushing towards the vehicle.  Close enough that Neary Narf is sure she can see the colour of the lead rider's eyes.

One of the pilots levels a blaster pistol, and a shot ricochets off the sloped front of the transport!


OOC: Don't just stand there!  Shoot 'em!
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:39, Thu 20 Jan 2011.

"Do we really have to fight? It's such a waste of life, not to mention energy! Energy that can be spent on more fun and constructive activities!" Tfalta said, still cheerful but also reluctant.

The orange alien staggered when the transport kissed the ground below, finding some support from the doorcase in the end.

"Whoops! Careful now, better safe than sorry, remember!" A huge grin dominated her features.

Ignoring their visitor, Shard opens the window and takes aim with the clunky pistol.  Volume again seems to be the key, so she doesn't waste time squeezing off a shot at the closest of the enemy.  It's optomistic of her, but if she keeps shooting she might just hit them...or at least make them reconsider.

If their cargo vehicle suddenly sprouts blaster-bolts from multiple apetures, maybe the pirates will give it up as a lost cause.

And banthas will fly, she grimly notes.

Rhijans muttered a curse as Jalt's fly-by caused havoc with the hover controls for a moment, before righting the transport.  He didn't slow down...didn't dare.  Anything that prolonged their time in the gang's 'kill box' would only encourage the gangers to get more aggressive.

At Dawl's comment, he shouted back over his shoulder, his voice muffled somewhat by the filter mask.  "Fighting wasn't our idea.  If you want to step out there and talk philosophy with them, be my guest, but I wouldn't count on a warm reception!"  Yet again, he cursed his own initiative in renting the transport.  Yes, they were getting the job done...but HE was stuck driving.  Nothing to be done about it now, he reasoned with himself, except to get back to the ship as soon as possible so you can get back behind your weapon again, where you belong.

He toyed with the idea of nudging the throttle a little higher...and shook it off.  Thus far, he was holding his own at the controls, but 'faster' in this thing also meant 'more difficult to fly'.  He'd hate to have gotten through everything so smoothly to this point, only to crash because he got impatient.  He could handle being shot down...that was beyond his control.  But screwing up and crashing?  Totally unacceptable.

So he clenched his jaw tightly and did his best to hold the craft steady as the air grew thick with blaster fire.

Mark laughed from within the breath mask at Rhijan's remark. "Well I might still shove you out if you'd like." He pulled his blaster and openned the window.

He lined up a shot, waited and fired a few shots.

Mark Jacobs fires twice in quick succession, and one of the attacking swoops erupts in a ball of flame and crashes onto the roadway, where it skids along for some distance, still burning and emitting quantities of black smoke.

Shard fires too, using her borrowed blaster.  The swoop rider sees her at the last moment, and throws the vehicle into a gut-wrenching swerve, narrowly avoiding a collision with the transport.  The blaster bolt misses its target and vanshes among the trees.

Some distance behind the transport, Reldan Jalt attempts to bring the swoop around in a tight turn, but almost crashes it and is forced to concentrate on simply recovering from the near-collision.

Two of the remaining swoops scream past the transport at full speed, still intent on catching Reldan Jalt.  The others are already slowing, preparing to turn back and pursue the cargo transport.  Blaster fire strikes the vehicle, but there doesn't seem to be any serious damage, and Rhijans holds his course with grim determination.

As one of them passes the open door, braking sharply, the rider has a brief glimpse of an orange shape leaping out at him.  Hands grab at him, and the swoop drops suddenly as its repulsorlift unit screams in protest as an extra load is suddenly applied to it...

She hadn't really expected to hit anything; the shock of her blaster-fire, the evasive on the part of the flier, both seemed to be sufficient to keep him busy and not shooting at their transport.  Good enough.

Unfortunately, that left a bunch more.

It's right about then that their guest decides to take Shard up on her earlier 'suggestion', leaping from the vehicle to actually grapple with one of the swoop pilots.  Shard takes a moment to rub the bridge of her nose.  Yes...definitely Jedi trained.  She can't stop the lopsided, half-smile.

Good luck.

She's no good firing on either of the swoops in hot pursuit of Jalt - all she can do is pray he makes it through - but the others have slowed to turn.  Picking one, Shard accepts the fear and anger she feels, passing through them undenying but also untouched by their stain, into a place of focus.

They'll close in, firing - this time, she plans to be prepared.

I'm sorry, the woman thinks, somewhere in the back of her mind.  But it's you or these kids.

"Want me to go after her?" Neary asks sardonically as their guest vacates the transport in a most insane manner.  She was after all supposed to watch her.  She moves up to cover the door and start blasting at any swoop apart from the one sporting her pilot or the orange lunatic.

The transport bucked ever-so-slightly as the weight shifted with the departure of Dawl.  Rhijans didn't realize what it was until Narf asked about following her out, and he risked a quick glance back at the passengers.  What in the... he shook his head as he returned his gaze straight ahead.

"As long as she's not using the damn lightsaber, she's fine.  Shoot someone," he answered.  It was near impossible to tell if he was echoing the semi-sarcastic tone of Narf's question, or if he was actually taking her seriously, but his expression was totally focused on the way ahead and gave no additional clues.

He had an idea...it was reckless, dangerous, even, and would just about guarantee that they wouldn't be getting the deposit for the transport back from Zaerd.  He'd wait and see how the blaster fire went, before he tried it.

Reldan jalt continues to struggle with controlling his wildly gyrating swoop.  Two of the opposition home in on him, and one of them is forced to swerve to avoid a collision.  Too bad he doesn't also avoid the collision with the tree: one of the swoop's stablisers clips the trunk and is badly bent, making the vehicle even more insanely dangerous to use.

Meanwhile, aboard another barely-controlled swoop, Tfalta Dawl reaches past the pilot with her left hand to grab the control bar, and simultaneously pushes the man, hard, with her right elbow.  The swoop tilts, and the pilot falls, to tumble and bounce a short way off the road in a cloud of fallen leaves, dust, and other detritus.  Leaving Tfalta to try and gain control of the swoop.

Inside the transport, Neary Narf shoots at one of the swoops as draws level with the doorway.  Blaster fire rips into its instrument panel, and the swoop slows and turns off the road leaving a trail of smoke and sparks behind as the driver frantically tries to regain some semblance of control over his errant vehicle.

Mark Jacobs reaches out of the window and fires back, along the side of the transport opposite the still open door.  His target veers aside, and the shot is a narrow miss.

And in the midst of all this, Shard stands, apparently calm and unmoved amid the raging chaos. 

Rhijans Thanus, meanwhile, continues to focus on his driving, while a cunning plan starts to formulate in his mind...

Blaster fire rakes against the side of the vehicle again, and one bolt actually penetrates the hull.  Jihon Mogg cries out and falls, all four hands clutching at his thigh, as Shisskurr goes to his aid.

The girl seems to be doing well enough, but Shard hates this thing in her hand - the cold, empty threat of it.  It's worse than holding a poisonous snake, because that would be living.  The blaster is a dead thing bringing death.

And yet...

Shard remembers an old text she once read.  She isn't certain from where, and it really doesn't matter, so little of it she remembers.  But one phrase stuck in her mind: the sword that gives life.  At the memory, the blaster seems to warm in her hands, becoming something different.

It is, after all, the only shield she has for the people she wishes to protect.

A swoop dives through her field of vision - without concious thought, balanced between sorrow and necessity, Shard tracks it and opens fire.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:49, Tue 12 Apr 2011.

Rhijans took a moment to check on the position of the swoops around them.  He'd be perfectly happy if they all got picked off or frustrated and left without him needing to do anything but drive...but if he was going to try something, they'd need to be almost right on top of the transport.  And Jalt and...whatever her name is, the crazy one, he told himself, would need to be somewhere else.  Swoops were dangerous enough, he didn't want to risk becoming a hazard for his own teammates.

He was, however, heartened with the dwindling numbers.  They seemed to be a pretty efficient group, which had always been one of the reasons he'd operated solo in the past.  While part of him still blanched at the prospect of being reliant on others for any degree of help, it was good to see that those he was teamed with were people on whom he could rely.

He drove on, keeping his speed up.  He'd wait for his opportunity...and hope the blasters of his team meant that it never presented itself.

Ignoring all that goes around, apart from the enemies on the swoops, Neary fires again, hoping to hit something or someone unfriendly or at least scare them.

"These guys don't learn. We can keep picking them off while they try to harrass us."

Mark Jacobs fired his blaster again.

Jihon Mogg lays on the floor while Shisskurr works on patching him up.  He's not moving much, but at least his eyes are open, and he grumbles occasionally when the big trandoshan pokes too hard at the wound in his thigh shoulder.

Reldan Jalt still struggles with the swoop, just barely in control of it.  At least the attacker with the damaged swoop seems to be worse off.  The other attacker squeezes off a shot, and Reldan's vehicle suddenly has a smoking hole where its weapon mounting used to be.

From out in the forest, in the general direction that Neary Narf's last target had disappeared, there is a sudden dull boom.  The demolitions expert pays no attention, instead choosing to shoot at another swoop.  The shot hits, and the swoop suddenly slows down, with sparks and smoke pouring from its repulsorlift housing.

Shard focusses her mind, and waits until a swoop comes into her line of sight.  The rider raises a blaster, firing a shot at the transport, even as Rhijans Thanus sees him and takes evasive action... and Shard fires.  The blaster bolt hits, and the swoop explodes in a fireball, which crashes down onto the road.  The rider is thrown clear, bouncing off the hull of the transport to land in the vegetation at the roadside.

At his own window, Mark Jacobs fires off a couple more shots at his own target, this time with more success.  The vehicle swerves as blaster fire slams into it, and then veers off the road as the rider is hit and topples off.

Which leaves only the two swoops, one of them damaged and almost completely out of control, which are harrassing the rebel pilot, and Neary Narf's most recent victim, which seems to be struggling to maintain speed.  The rider, doubtless frustrated, fires off a shot from his blaster pistol, and misses the transport completely.

Meanwhile, Tfalta Dawl manages to bring her newly acquired swoop to an almost complete stop and, after, getting comfortable, heads across to see if she can help Reldan Jalt.

No elation rises in Shard as her target plummets and its rider bounces off the transport with an oddly-musical *bonngg*; she feels only sorrow at the result and hope that the pilot comes out of it with nothing more than broken bones.  And, with luck, a vow to swear-off banditry.  No time to waste, though - another blaster bolt howls past the transport, one rider grimly hanging in despite the loss of his friends.

Or perhaps because of that loss.

This time Shard doesn't bother concentrating; instead, she takes a moment to ensure none of her allies are behind the enemy swoop, then opens fire as quickly as she can, sacrificing accuracy for volume. "Run away, you stubborn bastard," she growls, sending a brilliant orange storm his way, knowing full well that several allied blasters will be firing for effect.

If she can drive him off before one of her associates hits him, better and better.  If not...well, the man chose his path.

Rhijans gave a grunt as he pulled the transport back on course, gratified by the dwindling amount of incoming fire.  If he'd been skilled enough as a driver, he would take a look around to see the results of the team's firepower; as it was, he just relaxed a little bit at having fewer challenges to his limited driving skills.

He gave a tight-lipped grin as he recognized the sound of his blaster, in Shard's hands, opening up in a rapid-fire pattern.  That, actually, would have been his preferred tactic going into the encounter...produce enough firepower to make the swoop gang think again about the attack.  But damaging or destroying their swoops would make life safer for anyone else traveling this route, for a while, at least.  Swoops weren't cheap.

Of course, given their current activity, he suspected the swoop gangers hadn't exactly acquired their vehicles through legitimate means.

Mark gave a smug response as he hit his target. Mark fired two more shots as the swoop approached. This was dragging on for too long.

"Let's finish this."

Taking careful aim at the remaining swoop Neary hopes to once more disable the vehicle, hoping that Reldan, wherever he is, is still alive and well.

There is a hail of blaster fire from the transport.  The remaining swoop swerves away, but not before taking a number of hits which leave it sluggish, and trailing thin whisps of oily smoke.  The rider decides that discretion is the better part of idiocy, and pulls off the road, moving away into the forest at a low enough speed to easily avoid hitting anything solid.

Reldan Jalt's opponents, one of them struggling to control his damaged swoop spot Tfalta Dawl coming towards them, and decide that they aren't really a match for two people.  They, too, turn tail...

The attack appears to be over.

Jihon Mogg sits up, though he winces noticeably as he does so, and lets out a low groan.  Shisskurr slaps him on the back, eliciting another groan, "You'll live."

Finally, now that he isn't being harassed, Reldan Jalt manages to get his swoop under control, and accelerates to catch up with the transport.  Tfalta Dawl is close behind him on her stolen swoop.

"Done," Shard breathes, slowly relaxing.  Turning away from the window, she puts her back against the side of the transport and slowly slides to the floor.  Her right hand cradles the heavy blaster, fumbling until it finds the safety and flicking it on; her left searched inside her cloak and comes out with a silvery length of smooth metal.

Her thumb flicks the top open, and Shard takes a long drink from her flask.  The whip-lean woman shudders as the alcohol burns its way down - this isn't the good stuff, there will be no croaked attempt at 'smooth'.  "Everyone made it through," she calls out to Rhijans.  "Even the stowaway."

Shisskurr seems to have things under control with the injured Mogg.  Another drink, then she forces herself to her feet, wobbling her way to the front, her unsteadiness more from weak, aching knees than anything she downed in the last few seconds.  "Blaster," Shard hoarsely explains, passing over the heavy pistol before collapsing into the passenger seat.  "Thanks."

Rhijans took the blaster from Shard, sliding it smoothly into the holster without so much as a glance to even make sure it was his.  He knew it...it was like an old friend, whose presence one might recognize as soon as they entered the room.  His hand knew every curve and irregularity on the grip.

"Thanks for being hands and eyes for me," he replied.  The stress of trying to fly the transport, which was at the very edge of his abilities, had been massively compounded by frustration at being powerless to do what his every instinct had called for, when faced with the attack.  There had been some small relief from that in knowing that he'd at least contributed a weapon to help.  And managing to not crash the transport had also been some comfort, although that was only just now beginning to kick in.

He activated his commlink, speaking both to his passengers and into the comm.  "Next stop, starport.  Let's get this stuff loaded while I get the transport back to Zaerd and see how much more we end up owing him for blaster-damage to the swoops.  Get that...JEDI," and his voice twisted slightly, as though saying the word was a discomfort in its own right, "on the ship as quick and quiet as possible, in case the Imperials have passed word around the planet to keep an eye open for her, and let's see if we can get out of here without any further complications."