"Balls to that.  They intend to harm us about as much as I intend to harm them for doing so," Hector said, pulling out his pistol. "Unaffiliated craft though it might appear, stripping it like that only hurts those who own the ship - and they know that.  They deserve whatever harm falls to them as a result.  If that happens to be a blaster shot in the face, they have it coming.  Damn scavengers."

Raising his pistol, Hector aimed to give one warning shot, fired in a harmless direction to the ground in front of the ship (wherever there wasn't any workers).  He knew well enough how crappy life could be, as such, they deserved one warning shot from him (it wasn't his ship after all).  He wouldn't fault any one else for aiming to wound or kill with their first, however.

"Everything was tight, but that obviously ain't stoppin' their scavenging, is it?" Oriana cursed under her breath, lifting a hand to her own commlink to call back to the Skyfisher.  ++"X2! Bring up the shields! GiGi, touch a damn thing in my cockpit and you're floatin' home!"++

Balls to that, indeed.  With any luck, the shields coming on-line would shock the little bastards into next week, but it would take X2 a moment to get them up and running, assuming the thieving rodents hadn't damaged the panels beyond use in the first place.  Can't this lift go any faster?  Oriana rocked up on the toes of her boots and bounced once in place, eliciting a jingle from her toolbelt before she slammed both of her hands down on the side railing of the lift so hard that the metal creaked and groaned as she grabbed it, and leaned over the side.  "HEY!" she yelled, "GET OFF MY KARKING SHIP!"

The railing rattled as she shook it for emphasis, before she dropped back to her feet and yanked the blaster off her hip.  Too far for a decent shot, Oriana ran her fingers over the gun and made some hasty adjustments, while Hector took care of the obligatory warning.

Standard action: Personalized Modifications
This message was last edited by the player at 22:59, Tue 18 Dec 2012.

The echo effect from the sound of Hector's warning shot had barely died down when Ori's voice comes booming toward the scavengers.  They look up in the direction of the lift in near-unison, and begin scrambling.  The operation was not one of finesse before, but now the Selonians ditch all semblance of care as they grab what they can and make a break for it.  The lift's gears grind to a halt, flush with the floor of the bay, just as the two on top of the ship have jumped down.  [Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: X2 responds.  ++"Cursory diagnostic = indications of tampering || Electrical component failures = 17 = 28% chance of combusting upon startup || Query = cause?"++]

The ship, unfortunately for anyone thinking of instigating further violence, is between the thieves and the party.  They seem to be running for the opposite wall.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:48, Thu 20 Dec 2012.

Stepping from the lift Shanda strode forward easily concentraing on an area beyond the ship willing into existance the illousion of unstealthed soldiers with rifles raised, a deterrent to keep the Selonians from fleeing further before the group can catch up... Still her head cocked slightly at thier own accompanying soldiers words.

OOC:
21:44, Today: Shanda Rell rolled 25 using 1d20+14. Use the Force(illousion).

"More getting parts back, less bickering, shall we?" Helene interjects before the inevitable clash of ideals can escalate, and takes off in a dead run after the Selonians.

Duran unclips his lightsaber, but once again doesn't ignite it, as he sprints after Helene. He was sure he could get there first but in combat a concerted attack was often better than a single man charging, even with a lightsaber and the Force, and they aren't planning on fighting the Selonians, just getting them to stop.

The lack of active weapons in his and Helene's hands should at least give them some idea that they didn't want to kill them. A thought occurred as he ran, perhaps, just perhaps, these Selonians knew of tunnels that went to where Wromm was...he'd have to bring it up if they got them to talk.

Oriana pressed a hand to the earpiece of her commlink, listening to the series of whistles that came back from X2.  As she listened, her frown deepened into a proper grimace.  ++"Scavengers on the outside, little guy.  Run a deep diagnostic, and seal the doors to the cockpit and the engine bay.  We'll be there in a minute."++  Now she really didn't want that protocol droid of Decrilla's trying to be helpful.

She glanced at Hector and half-rolled her eyes in the wake of Helene's less-than-witty commentary, and if she hadn't had one hand on her blaster and another on the commlink, probably would have duplicated the hand gesture she'd saluted the troopers with a dozen floors back.  "Nobles," she grumbled under her breath, before sprinting off in the direction of the Skyfisher and the retreating Selonians.

"Oh dear," the hospitality droid comments, before switching off her comlink...

... and promptly electing to fire a rapid burst of Binary at X2, faster than any biological life form could keep up with it, lamenting everything from their luck to the humans inefficient and conflicting instructions, and finally asking the lil astromech what he'd like her to do to help, orders from the organics be damned.

Hector only offered a half shrug.  It was what he had expected from said noble.  Nonetheless, the moment the lift touched down, he was heading off at a run towards the ship, intending to head under it to get a clear shot on the Selonians, if there were any left to shoot at by the time he had one. 

"Sure would be great if we had someone who could just... grab them from a distance before they get away.  Maybe with some form of magic," he called out while running. "Pity we don't have any of those types around."

OOC: A brief image of the Selonians attempting to escape invades your consciousness.  They almost get away!  You shake your head and bring your focus back to the present...

Hustling toward the docked spacecraft, the group hear the humanoids' cry out, as though startled.  The cries give way to angry chittering as you make your way under the ship to the other side and the scene comes into view.  The rodent-like Selonians are pinned between you and, apparently, a squad of armored troopers.

The Selonians have their backs toward you and are too busy arguing and angrily gesticulating to notice or care that you're there.  They've dropped whatever they were carrying, which looks to amount to a single crate of assorted cables as well as some sort of antenna.  [Private to Oriana Cy'Kast:  It's the antenna portion of the hypertransceiver dish.  It was, of course, welded on.  You're not sure how they managed to remove it.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:35, Thu 27 Dec 2012.

"You little rat bastards..." Oriana's voice came through crisp and clear through the space between the group and the Selonians, despite the echo of their running boots on the plating of the spaceport.  Having ducked around one of the Skyfisher's landing supports, she can see the thieves and their dropped goods - along with a squad of troopers, apparently - and she is obviously unpleased by the revelation of what the Selonians have stolen.

"Get away from that!" she shouted, barely slowing as she leveled that handcannon of hers at the crowd, and sent a single blaster bolt sailing towards the space between the dropped crate and the antenna.  It may have appeared that she'd missed, but the bolt of energy landed precisely where she wanted it, and exploded in a shower of sparks, hopefully driving the Selonians away from the immediate vicinity.

...into which she charged, dropping to her knees with a clatter of tools and sliding the last few meters up to the crate and antenna, which she grabbed and pulled towards her like she was rescuing them from molestation.  She glared around at the Selonians, pointing her blaster directly at a few of them to get them to back off, and then immediately began to rummage through the crate with her free hand, while grumbling under her breath.  "Oh, come on...not that too?  Are you serious..."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:13, Fri 28 Dec 2012.

Crossing the distance at an even pace Shanda maintained the illousion, focusing on the group as Oriana made a grab for the ship parts. She said nothing yet but kept her posture unthreatening, til cooler heads could diffuse the situation.

Duran slid to a halt, his lightsaber still unignited and he saw the poor Rat people, fear in their eyes and he sighed he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a blaster shot aimed to mist and a possessive mechanic whose ship had been damaged. Sighing he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, this was getting more complicated by the minute.

Shaking his head he looked at the Selonians and spoke in basic, hoping the translator could deal with them,"Fear not, little ones, we are not here to hurt you. We just want our things back...we do not seek to harm you." Or Ori would have burned you a third eye hole instead of simply carbon scorchings on the deck.

"Give us back our things and we will let you go." he clipped his lightsaber back on his belt and approached,"Who is your leader here?" He glanced over his shoulder at Helene, a little bit of concern in his eyes, it would be better if someone more gifted with words took over here, his training didn't extend to diplomacy.

Helene, for her part, rushes past the gaggle of Selonians and her allies, to place herself between them and the troopers, silently thankful that they didn't simply open fire - both because it would of been a massacre and because her group would be in the kill zone, too. Once there, though, she holds her hands up, palms first, "Woah, easy, easy, let's not have anyone be rash, okay? I'm sure we can get this all settled, peacefully."

Turning to the Selonians, when the troopers don't seem interested in responding, she adds, "I don't think they're very happy with you, but they won't shoot with us in the way. Is that everything you took from us in that box?"

If they don't seem to understand, she calls up GiGi to translate.

"Speak for yourself, Jedi," Hector said, passing Duran b as he moved to flank Oriana, keeping his blaster trained in the direction of the Selonians.  The creatures - who appeared to be much like humans crossed with some form of feline - weren't quite what he would call 'little ones'.  In his opinion, they also weren't worth treating nicely.  He had dealt with Selonians in the past - they were native to Corellia like he was (sort of), and like any other race, there were the good and the bad.  These ones... scavenging from a perfectly good starship in a spaceport that was clearly ready to be used by someone... these weren't worth it.  There was desperation, then there was what they were doing; backstabbing someone else for a marginal profit.

"Hows it look, Ori?" he asked, glancing back and down to her.  He had noted the appearance of the troopers, but didn't pay them much attention.  Not only was their presence to be expected in this sort of operation, but they had done their job and were still doing it for now.

Oriana grumbled and shoved the crate back slightly, before she snatched up the base end of the antenna and rocked back on her heels.  For a long moment she studied it, before tossing it unceremoniously to the ground next to the crate, where it landed with a loud, heavy clatter that almost drowned out her exasperated sigh.  "Damn thing was welded on."

She shoved her hand through her hair to push it out of her face, and glanced up at Hector.  "Hypertransceiver's out without that, and I'll need another set of hands to fix it."  Her shoulders slumped a little, and she turned her attention to the jumble of cables spilling out of the crate like a nest of angry snakes, dragging her hand over her face in the process.  "That...mess...is most of the electrical hookups for the starboard engines.  Without those back in...thirty...thirty-five percent chance of just plain catching on fire if we even try to fire 'em up."

"Thinkin' positively? Two hours, at least, to get it all back together.  Maybe a bit more to get the antenna back on.  At least an hour to get her functional again, even if we're flyin' without a radio.  That's a hopeful estimate.  Lookin' at the mess in the box, looks like they just grabbed things willy-nilly.  I don't even wanna know what they left behind.  We ain't goin' anywhere for a while, unless we're goin' on foot, and no guarantee they won't strip her bare while we do."  She glared over her shoulder at the lieutenant, more than a little put-out that they'd been instructed to land - and leave - their ship in an unsafe location.

The illusionary troopers, though plenty lifelike, do little but stand still, their 'guns' trained with expert steadiness on the previously fleeing Selonians.  The twi'lek Lieutenant, who had followed, but not quite at the sprinting pace of the group, emerges just in time to receive Ori's glare, and raises his hands in mock surrender.  His lekku twitch nervously once, though his demeanor ascends to authority quickly as his eyes fall on the assembled squad.  He speaks first to Ori, "I promise you, I had no idea these even existed.  What are you lot doing down here?" he then demands of the soldiers.

Meanwhile, the Selonians themselves wring their hands and shift weight from one furry leg to the other almost in unison.  Not one steps forth to answer any question asked.  There's no lack of recognition, just a lack of desire as they look to one another in abject confusion and no small amount of fear.  While some wear more patchwork leather than others, teeming with pockets and hooks for carrying a fortune in small objects, none bear any indication of leadership.

Shanda smiled to herself and strode forward looking upon the Selonians, lifting an arm he rhand emerging from the volumous sleeve she flicked her hand dismissing the illousion, "They were here because I wished them to be. Thier job is done, our property recovered, continuing to scare them is pointless. We should focus on repairing the damage done and be about our mission."

Slipping her hand back into the robe sleeves she slipped back from the forefront of the group but glanced back over her shoulder towards the Selonians, "You should choose your targets more carefully, better you raid a Sith landing pad than those of your allies."

With Oriana going over the list of things cut off the ship - and they would have had to been cut off too, looking at the pile - Hector holstered his blaster.  The Selonians weren't a threat anymore, and he wasn't going to shoot them with his reason done away with.  He did laugh though, as he heard Shanda speak up about who they should be stealing from.

"They try to scavenge from the Sith, and they will get shot," he said, glancing back.  He didn't appreciate his own ship getting scavenged, but he could understand why they had chosen it. "Republic doesn't shoot on sight.  Hell, even I'm nice enough not to.  Sith?  They'll fire into a crowd of civilians to get a guy who stole their cup of caf.  That's why they're here and not stealin' from the Sith.  Its easier and safer." He shrugged, then looked over to the Lieutenant.

"Y'know, you might consider another form of justice for these guys.  They're clearly better than you know at getting in and out.  Put 'em to work gathering intelligence or causing mischief for the Sith, and pay 'em with the parts they need.  Kill two mynocks with a single intake."  Even if they were scavengers, the Selonians were Corellian.  Thus, they deserved a hand in this if it could be given.  "They probably know all manner of ways of getting around the planet unseen too; could show your operatives a thing or two."

Hector then paused and looked to the others.  They had a job to do, and the ship was out of commission for an hour at least.  "Could show us a thing or two, perhaps, if we had to get somewhere unseen.  Or get someone out of somewhere unseen.  Hey fuzzies!  Anny of ya speak Basic?"

Helene, as might be expected, is taken rather aback at the sudden realization that the troopers were never really there. She blinks several times in rapid succession, and folds her hands together behind her back and valiantly attempts to ignore the feeling of embarrassment that accompanies falling for a trick she usually would see right through - and wasn't even really the target of.

She's decided for the moment that standing between the Selonians and the direction in which they were fleeing will just have to be sufficient, while other people do the talking.

Oriana simply sat quietly on her heels, elbows on her knees, as she glanced between the Selonians and her damaged ship.  This job had suddenly hung a left turn into an area she really wasn't keen to venture into, all things considered.  She might have grown up on planet, but kark, traipsing out on foot into a warzone had really not been on her agenda when she woke up this morning.  She grumbled, and gave the crate of jumbled cables a rather annoyed shove that barely moved it.

Not that they really had much choice, now.

Reaching up to grab hold of Hector's forearm, she hauled herself upright in a smooth motion, sparing the Selonians a brief glance as she pointedely holstered her own blaster and secured it.  Oriana turned towards the Skyfisher, presenting mostly her back to the thieves as she looked over the damage to the freighter.  "You thinkin' what I think you're thinkin'?" she asked under her breath, glancing over her shoulder at the Selonians once more, trying to ignore the crippled starship right in front of her.

Hector shrugged, once he had his arm back after helping her up.  "Only thinkin' right now.  If I'm right, we might be able to finish this job a lot safer.  I may be the best pilot around, but flyin' through anti-aircraft fire ain't easy.  A guided tour through hidden tunnels wherever we want to go?  Might take longer, but it'd be a lot safer." He nodded in the direction of the Selonians.

"If its even an option of course.  As for the ship... fix it up when we get back, and leave the shields up while we're gone.  Fix those up before we go if we have to.  That'd keep any other scavengers off it I think."

"Ain't flyin' anywhere right now, anyway. Anti-aircraft or no."  Oriana rubbed at the back of her neck, and stared at the freighter, nodding thoughtfully after a moment.  "Unless X2's found damage on the port engine too, we can do that, run the shields off it.  Hell, if they can get us to Wromm and back, and then those kids and back...I'll give 'em some parts, long as it ain't somethin' we need to get off planet or can't replace."  She glanced over her shoulder at the Selonians again, adding, "If you wanna make friends an' offer, that is."

"What's the worst that can happen?" she chuckled.  "We come back to find the Skyfisher stripped bare, Marigg out a ship, and us stuck on foot on Sith-controlled Corellia until we can find our way back to wherever the Iron Lady's got her hidden impound?"  She grinned, feeling entirely too chipper about that chain of possibilities.  Really, things could be considerably worse.

Shanda smiled and nodded, "Oh its no doubt, but better they try hindering thier enemy than their allies. The paths down below are good for getting around, we brought them a supply of weapons to use the tunnels to the point where you all picked us up. But its far from a safe route. The Sith have unleashed thier beasts down there to hunt the Selonians. We killed a pack of the things just finding our contact down there."

Falling silent she watched the exchange, using the Selonian tunnels again was likely the best idea. Getting access though would be tricky.

The Selonians turn to see that their route is cleared, and some even seem like they might make a break for it, but a silent consensus eases in and they stay put.  Harsh utterances in what must be their native language, chittering and chattering, boils into an apparent argument.  Emerging from the noise is a single "Me," spoken loudly to be heard above the din, by one towards the end of the line they form.  Upon hearing it, the others quiet into a stunned silence.

The one speaking Basic takes one step forward, still wringing its hands and not particularly making eye contact.  It, like its fellows, is not ostensibly armed, and wears little but some patchwork leather riddled with pockets.  It waits for the group to finish its discussion.