The ground team is, well, on the ground.  Oriana and Hector are keeping watch in the ship, with the former in the bottom turret and the latter in the pilot's seat.

Seely's voice pipes up over the comm, "Comms check, can you read us?"

Oriana flips the commlink to the away team, "Loud and clear, Captain."

A frown crosses her face, as she peers over the sensors and scanners again, keying up the comm to the cockpit and X2 once more, ++"Why do we not have any information on Ussol besides what's tied to the manor here?  I thought he was some bigshot hyperdrive businessman?"++

---

OOC: Can Oriana still see the man standing in the doorway, or has the group gone inside now?  Did he have any reaction at all to the guns pivoting around?

They haven't gone in yet.  I'm waiting for the others to respond in some way before just forcing them to follow Seely in.  The man didn't seem to notice the guns' turning at all.

"More information = Eiman Ussol = investor in other companies."  Some information on stock prices fills your display.  "Other information = Eiman Ussol = veteran of conflict with Sith Empire before signing of Treaty of Coruscant | Eiman Ussol = retired, living off fortune."

Seely's voice comes in again once X2 finishes, "Keep us posted.  We'll do the same."

"++Might be a good thing to check which side he fought for,++" Hector noted, having let Oriana deal with the comm conversation with Seely.  In the cockpit, he made sure to keep one eye on the scopes.  "++Hey Oriana, does this thing have an autoturret to cover the boarding ramp?++"

++"I wish, but no, although I can see it from here.  I need to get in there and re-route some of the wiring to supply enough power to the right areas, before we can put those in.  It's been pretty high on my to-do list for a while, I've just not gotten around to it."++ She pauses, slowly swiveling the cannon around again, adding with a laugh, ++"You should've seen what I had to rip out to get this turret in."**

She'd told X2 to listen to Hector, so she didn't bother repeating the request to look into Ussol's history, confident that the little droid would do so.  ++"Why didn't we check this Ussol bastard's background out beforehand?"++

"Ussol = combatant on Republic's side | Medals = listed."  The droid brings up a list of accolades the man received...apparently he'd been wounded in action, twice, and saved some other bunch of soldiers by staying behind to provide covering fire.  Details are limited and you'd pretty much have to infer circumstances.

"++Don't worry about it.  We'll get my ship back soon enough and it already has one,++" Hector said, breathing a slight sigh of relief about the target's nationality.  Though it didn't rule out a defection, it did give it less of a probability.  "++Well, I have always thought that the name Republic Intelligence was a tad ironic.  But, he's a Republic vet, so thats good, I hope.++"

Oriana goes quiet for a minute, save for the steady hum of the turret slowly circling.  Eventually, she lets out a muttered curse, and sighs.  ++"Figures... and yeah, Republic Intelligence is pretty lackluster.  Although I guess we can't laugh at that as much now, having been caught, yeah?"++

"++Even a broken chrono is right at least once a day,++" Hector replied, grinning.  They had both been caught, true, but in his case at least they hadn't been actively looking to capture him specifically - he had fallen into a trap, that was all.  While a bad organization got things right every now and then, even the best smugglers still made mistakes every now and then.

Oriana laughs, shaking her head in the confines of the turret.  Her eyes flicker over the scanners yet again, not as much out of paranoia as out of sheer boredom.  It was one thing to be spinning in the ion turret while rocketing through space - that was a rush.  Dangling in it over some rich Corellian's landing pad, however, was pretty dull.

++"So, Hector..."++ she starts, still chuckling.  ++"Bored yet?"++

Unlike Oriana, Hector was actually quite comfortable.  This was the point of the chair after all - it was virtually impossible to be uncomfortable in it.  This, it was perfect for long hauls, or long waits while cargo was being loaded.  "++Honestly, I'm just happy the others are gone.  Its so peaceful without all the arguing.  Why do you ask, Oriana?  Want some company down there?++"  There was a distinct inflection in his voice that implied a wide grin, given what he said.

OOC: Hm. Have they gone inside the building yet, or no?

No other posts over there aside from Seely.

Blast!  Clearly our timeline and theirs are going to be fudged slightly.  I'm going to guess, too, that the cockpit windows are facing the buildings, since that's the direction the boarding ramp opens, and it keeps the engine blast from hitting them?

---

Oriana laughs, ++"Something tells me that might not be conducive to our ability to take off in hurry, if we need to... Although I'm seriously contemplating coming back up there. There's nothing on the scanners now, and if anything shows up from air, I'm in the wrong spot anyway."++

I don't think its a big issue.  As long as we end up in the same place at the same time when we meet up, it should be all right.  Also, yeah, cockpit pointing at the building.

---

"++Up to you, though I can't imagine that seat is all that comfortable.  Besides, it takes like ten seconds to get from the cockpit and into a turret, so I don't see there being any problems with you joining me up here.  No problems with timing, at least.++"  Truth be told, having her company here in the cockpit was something Hector found himself already growing fond of.

"Less than ten, actually, if I'm going down.  Falling's faster than climbing."

Oriana's voice carries down the corridor and into the cockpit proper, preceding her appearance by only seconds.  She strides confidently into the cockpit, pausing in front of her seat to turn around, and hop up on the covered dome of the instrument panel.  As she kicks her feet up into the seat of the co-pilot's chair, she flashes a cheeky grin, "What, did you think I was going to wait for permission?"

Hector spun his chair around at the sound of Oriana's voice, and greeted her with a grin.  "Going down, huh?  Might need more than ten for that," he said, with barely a hint of a reaction to Oriana's slip up - rather, it wasn't a slip up, but her leaving an easy conversational opening.  "Perhaps.  It would make sense, with me being Captain of the ship and all.  Don't worry, I forgive you."

Oriana laughs, and behind her glasses, it's a safe bet that she's rolling her eyes.  "I dunno.  I'm pretty sure that if it takes much more than ten seconds to spool up one of the big guns, you're doing it wrong," she retorts, grinning broadly.  For a moment, she twists around and leans back, peering down at the scene on the ground through the transparisteel windows.  Then, without a word she rotates around and reaches for a trio of levers in front of Hector, flipping all three of them at once with the edge of her hand.  Three simultaneous *thunks* echo down the corridor from the starboard side of the ship, the sound of the airlocks around the boarding ramp sealing into place.

"Better safe than sorry, and thanks for the forgiveness... Captain."  She smirks, bracing her hands behind her on the console, so she can settle into a relaxed pose, lazily alternating between watching the door of the building, and glancing over the rims of her glasses at Hector.

"I suppose someone with experience might know how to do it better and thus... faster."  This was what he was growing fond of... it had been a while since he last had someone to talk with, one who could match him in this area.  He didn't mat an eye as she raised the boarding ramp, deciding that she was,in fact, correct.  "Yeah, wouldn't want someone to just... walk in on us."

He smirked, then leaned back and kicked his feet up on the console.  He was silent for a moment, before deciding now was as good a time as any to ask questions.  "So, when did you plan on telling me you were a Jedi but not a Jedi?"

"Do I look cut out for a monastic lifestyle of self-denial?"  She flashes Hector a brilliant grin, no hesitation at all in her voice as she responds.  It's almost like she's had to use that line before. More than once.

She catches the edge of her lower lip in her teeth, worrying at it slightly for a moment or two, seeming to be mentally weighing whether or not to truthfully answer his question.  It had been a long time since anyone had asked, much less anyone that she legitimately wanted to answer, and the Jedi on board sure weren't helping her keep anything secret.  With a thoughtful noise, she peels her glasses off and leans back on her hands, looking him in the eye, "Make you a deal?  For every question I answer, I get to ask one that gets answered."

"Definitely not.  You'd stand out too much as well.  Not nearly plain enough to be a Jedi," Hector replied, shaking his head.  He didn't take nearly as long to decide on an answer to her counter-offer, however.  He was a truthful guy, and there really wasn't anything harmful in his history - nothing that could be used against him, anyway.

"Sounds like a solid deal to me.  This is going to be fun."

Oriana chuckles, dragging a hand through her hair and nodding.  "Fair enough," she starts, pulling up one of her legs and resting her elbow upon her upraised knee.  "Do you know where little Jedi come from, Hector?  They're not what happens when two Jedi love each other very much..." She trails off, letting her sarcastic tone fade away.  "They're what happens when Jedi find little kids that can touch the Force, and snatch them away.  Oh, they say it's for little Benny," her eyes flicker to his face for a moment, "...or little Oriana's good.  That they'll have a better life, that they'll be dangerous if they aren't trained, but they're still yanking kids from their folks."

"I was three."

She leans back, glancing out the window again as she continues, "If you ask Duran, or Shanda, they'll tell you that anyone can walk away from the Order at any time, but how is a little kid with no credits, no friends, no family to call supposed to walk away? The answer is: they aren't.  They have to stay.  So I stayed, and sucked at it.  I'm not cut out for it, it's not my bag.  I kept thinking that if I just sucked enough, they'd kick me out.  When my initiate trials came up, I blew them on purpose - or at least I like to think I did, just hoping they'd let me go."

"They didn't." She shrugs and turns around, leaning on her upraised knee again.  "You ever wonder how it is Marigg survived you shooting him those three times, Hector?"

Hector listened intently, his grin faltering a bit to a frown.  Hearing this about the Jedi... it was so different from the way they wanted people to see them.  It was depressing, actually - and he didn't easily get depressed. "I can't say I'm surprised the Jedi work that way," he said, with a sigh.  He was about to ask another question, then remembered that he wouldn't get to until Oriana asked hers - which she promptly did.

"Actually, I am rather curious.  When I last saw, I pegged him in the head at least once.  You use some Force trick?"

"Yeah," she smiles a bit, settling her chin on top of her arm on her knee.  "Only thing I can do, actually, besides a couple of standard parlor tricks.  It's like..." She frowns for a moment, gesturing ineffectually with her hand, thinking of and discarding perhaps a half-dozen ways to describe it before finally settling on one.  "Like lending someone a bit of my life force, only the interest's a lot better than getting money from a Hutt."

Oriana's unable to resist  flashing her usual grin, at that.  "My turn," she interjects, lifting the hand that dangles off her knee, and gesturing at his face with her first two fingers.  "Where'd you get that?"

"Ahh... I think I've heard a story or two about Jedi doing that.  More than half of them resulted in the Jedi dying so another could live.  Seems a foolish power.  Useful, I suppose... but dangerous."  Hector simply nodded.  It did make sense though, given that he had been her Captain.  It only made sense for a first mate to want to save her Captain.  But now, it was his turn.

"Ahh, this?  Sexy, no?  Its a great story, actually."  He brought his foot down and leaned forward a bit towards her, as one would when telling a really intense story.  It was merely a reflex.  "See, I had taken a job transporting a team of Mandalorian Supercommandoes.  The real tough guys - guys even a Jedi Master would think twice about taking on.  Anyway, as you might know, the Mandos are more of a... coalition.  These guys were working for the Republic - or at least, their goal was to disrupt the Sith.  I was to drop them off at a disguised Sith research facility on Sullust, and pick them up after they'd completed their mission." His grin grew wider now.

"Things went wrong.  Apparently the place had been tipped off somehow, and they were waiting.  Mandos being Mandos, they went in anyway, and when they came out, they had company.  It was a fighting retreat, and it didn't look good.  Since I wasn't getting paid until we got out... I brought the ship in for a strafing run, then touched down to lend a hand with my own blaster.  I didn't have the armor they did, but I was still a fairly good shot back then."

"Anyway, while we dealt with the few chasers, one of the Mandos turned on me - came at me with one of those beskar blades.  Would've ran me through if I hadn't moved on instinct and thrown myself back.  Blade came close though - gave me this scar.  However, I got my blaster up, rammed it right into his chin between the helmet and neckguard, and put a full-auto burst into him.  He didn't get back up."  Hector leaned back now, clearly pleased with himself.

"I only learned after the fact - after they searched his gear - that he had tipped the place off.  His plan hadn't gone so well though, and he paid for it.  Now, the other Mandos... well, you can imagine their surprise when they saw me standin' over him.  When one a'them goes down, its usually to a tank or something.  Since I had managed to kill one of the biggest badasses of the 'verse, and got them out safely, not only did I get paid, but they made me an honorary Supercommando, and thus certified the name of my ship as well."  He sighed, remembering the day.  It had been a good day.  The healing process, of course, had not.  But, now it was his turn to ask a question - and he already knew what to ask.

"So, you grew up with the Jedi, and they didn't make it easy to leave.  How did you get out?"

Oriana listened intently, caught up in the story, and thoroughly amused by just how smug Hector looked while telling it.  She'd never admit it, but she was impressed. Mandalorians were not to be fucked with, and to do it without armor and not only win, but come out with barely a scratch?  The man had balls and skill.  Still, she couldn't resist a bit of teasing as he finished, punctuated with a broad grin, "You don't look like a Supercommando."

Oriana twists around to look out the window again, almost using the motion to change the subject.  Her eyes scan the darkening courtyard below, and she hesitates for a moment, licking her lips nervously.  "You can't tell Duran or Shanda."  She spins around, leaning forward and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial level.  "I bombed my Initiate's Trials, right?  So I wouldn't be fit to be a padawan, so I could go home.  I didn't know, then, that being able to heal in wartime just means you get a guaranteed spot in the Jedi Service Corps' MedCorps.  Lucky me." Her mouth twists slightly, and it's obvious that her annoyance at this railroading hasn't faded much in the ensuing years.  "I mean, I was good at it.  You wouldn't have that scar, if I'd been around. But still..."

She shrugs, "We were on a shuttle to Ord Radama.  It went down before we could land.  I don't know if it was shot down, or the engines went, or what.  I wasn't but twelve, and didn't know a damn thing about starships at the time."    She sighs, dragging her hands over her face as if to wipe a memory away, before looking him in the eye.  "I ran, Hector.  I stabilized everyone that wasn't already dead, and I ran for the first outpost with a freighter heading off that rock that would take me.  Took me half a year, and twenty-seven hops to get back to Nar Shaddaa."

"I'm not sure they wouldn't haul me right back," she adds after a long pause.  To a cage, disguised as a temple, to enjoy a monastic lifestyle that she was most decidedly ill-suited for, and did not want.

"Why smuggling?  If you can drop a Mandalorian like that, you could've been a big shot in someone's military."

"See, that's what I said.  But then they told me if I didn't accept, then the name f my ship would be taken as a cruel joke, and I'd feel their wrath.  You know how it is."  He shrugged, as if that were business as usual.  Then, of course, he settled in for Oriana's story.

As he listened... Hector couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her, even though that was likely not what she wanted from him.  It was impressive that she had such skill with healing, particularly with her mention of his scar.  The cut had been rather deep - to clear that up with no scar would be some feat of magic.  Then came her story of the shuttle crash.  It was clear enough that she was still torn over the decision she'd made - and he would be too.  Stay, and be stuck with an Order you didn't fit in with, or leave, and risk being branded a coward.

"Honestly, that makes my childhood seem like sunshine and puppies.  I doubt I'd have been brave enough to leave like that at that age," Hector said, with a light chuckle.  "Don't worry though.  Not a word of this will leave my lips - certainly not to our Jedi tag-alongs." He made sure to look her in the eye when he said this, so she knew he meant it.  A moment later, he let out a laugh and broke into a wide grin.

"Honestly, d'you really see me in a military uniform, givin' or takin' orders?  Skill is one thing, but you gotta be able to take orders in the military, and that's something I'm not the greatest at.  Plus, the way I hear it, drill sergeants don't like being told they're idiots when they're being idiots." He shrugged.  "As for smuggling... I guess cause its in my blood.  My mother was a smuggler, and I learned all I know from her.  Hell, even grew up on the ship.  Can't honestly see myself in any other role." He leaned back... that was honestly the best answer he had, and now it was his turn.

"Since that's probably not the kind of answer you were probably hoping for, I'll give ya an easy one this time."  He grinned up at Oriana, with one of his best 'smuggler smiles'.  "How'd you get so damn sexy?"

At this point, the ground team has gone into the building.  The door slides shut behind them.

"No. No they do not like being told that." Oriana grins as she listens.  He's right, she can't picture him, either of them really, taking orders from some overblown stuffed uniform.  Jury was still out on whether or not Captain Komad was going to fall into that category, though.  "Ship brat, mm? That explains a lot," she laughs, and it did.  She'd known lots of them on Nar Shaddaa: some of them bullies that terrorized the other kids in port, others that had come through regularly enough to become intermittent friends.  All of them with the same self-important bravado, so carefully cultivated.

"How'd I get so damn sexy?" she echoes, laughing with genuine surprise and amusement.  This, this was not a question she expected.  She studies the ceiling of the cockpit for a second, and stretches her legs out, propping one foot atop the other in the seat of the co-pilot's chair.  A thoughtful noise escapes her, and she lets her head swivel down to where she can peer over the rims of her glasses at him, flashing a brilliantly cocky grin of her own.

"It's my mechanical aptitude.  Once guys know a girl can dismantle a sublight drive, and strip a turbolaser, it's only a matter of time before they start wondering what she can do with... other things."  Oriana punctuates this teasing by giving him a rather blatant visual appraisal, peeling off her glasses and leaning back on her hands in the process.

She laughs, and glances down at the scanner screen briefly, before her eyes settle on his once more, smirking as her own loaded question comes to mind.  "Why do you ask?"

While waiting for an answer, she blinks, seeming distracted for a handful of seconds, before shaking her head as if to clear it, and settling her smile on him once more.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:11, Tue 05 June 2012.

PM
[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast:  "A sense of wariness and suspicion with a hint of hope passed from Duran's mind and a single word, well question, 'Fine?'"]

Counter-PM action: GO!

[Private to GM:  15:05, Today: Secret Roll: Oriana Cy'Kast rolled 29 using 1d20+11. UtF: Telepathy.

A calm sense of amusement in return, "Absolutely. You?"

Editing into the previous post to include Ori's moment of pause and concentration for that. :)]

Hector seemed to think for a moment, before he answered.  It was indeed a loaded question, and he had two answers he could give her.  He could go with the answer he would've told most women... or he could go with the truthful answer.  In the end, he decided on the latter.

"Because I wanted to know more about you," he replied, grinning still - unfazed by the appraisal.  "What you just told me was what you value most about yourself - what you have worked hard to achieve or maintain, and what you're proud of.  Ask that question of most women, and you'll usually get a reply about their looks or their confidence, or how they act."  He gave her a shrug followed by his smuggler smile.

"Knowing that information gives me a better target for flirting.  I've found that complimenting a woman on things she perceives as faults can be effective, but complimenting what she has worked hard to maintain and is proud off tends to pay off a lot more." He nodded towards Oriana. "So now I know that, in general, compliments to your technical skills will probably be better received than other things."

"But in this case, I wasn't really asking it as a means to get in your pants.  It was more about getting to know a little more about you.  Of course, you are right about one thing, I have been wondering just how good those miracle hands of yours are."  Bringing his hands together in his lap, he gave her an appraising look now while he considered his next question. "I suppose I'll ask the question you asked me earlier.  Why mechanics, why starships?  What made you get into the trade?"

"Well, maybe you'll get to find out... possibly without something blowing up." Oriana smiles, in that teasingly confident way she has, taking a moment to key up the commlink to the team on the ground before answering his question.  "Everything okay down there, Captain?"

She shrugs and sits up, idly fiddling with the various toggles and switches on the Skyfisher's intrumentation panels while she answers.  "You know the Jekk-Jekk Tarr, on Nar Shaddaa?  There's a little machine shop around the corner," she flashes a grin, and laughs.  "Okay, it's not 'little', it's run by the Herglic - you know it?  That's Kinbo, he used to let me sleep in the corner of the shop, in return for helping with the delicate work."  Oriana pauses here, and wiggles her fingers as a means of emphasizing the size difference of her hands, versus a Herglic's.

"Taught me everything I know.  Told you I used to run errands out of the cantinas to make a living: lot of those were parts fetching, setting up appointments with Kinbo and such.  Delivery just kind of gradually turned into offering to install the parts, too, to make some extra cred on the side.  One day, some smuggler was dumb enough to take me on and make it permanent."  She smirks, leaving it up to his imagination as to whether or not that smuggler was Marigg, or someone else.

"I like it.  I like being able to take all the pieces of the puzzle, and fit them together into something that works.  Bonus points if I can make things exceed their expectations - and I can usually make things exceed their expectations." She grins, tossing in a wink for good measure.  "It's not as flashy as being the pilot.  No one really knows or cares who built a freighter, but it's... satisfying, in a lot of ways."

"I can do weapons, too," she adds, almost as an afterthought.  "Not just starships."  Her eyes flicker to the blaster at his hip for a moment, before she reaches down and pulls her own.  Quick as a flash, she spins the weapon around half a turn, holding it out grip first.  "It's more accurate than yours." There's not the slightest bit of hesitation in that statement, she knows her work, and she knows blasters.

A smirk plays at the corners of her lips as she ponders her next choice of questions.  "How many women are waiting for you in port?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:50, Tue 05 June 2012.

You get no response from Seely.

[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: However, you hear back from Duran - "Okay, learning more now."]

"I know of the place, although I tend to stay away from the area.  Don't have too many friends around there you see," Hector said, nodding all the same.  From the sounds of it, she had gotten rather lucky - a trademark of their chosen lifestyle, it seemed.  Still, it was nice to know that, even on the smuggler's moon, there were beings considerate enough to take in a kid in their time of need.  And a Herglic too, fancy that.

Hector wasn't surprised to hear that she was just as capable with prsonal weaponry as well.  He accepted her blaster, and held it as though he were aiming down the sights, pointed at the door of the cockpit.  It was a similar model to his own, in fact.  As he had mentioned before, a big gun for a lady.  He nodded approvingly and handed it back, grip first.  He had purposely let her comment about finding out go, replying only with a suggestive raise of his eyebrow.  Her next question didn't come as much of a surprise though, given what he has said earlier.

"Oh, no more than one or two.  Despite what some might think, I try to make sure the women know what they're getting into with me - that its not aimed at being anything long-term, usually.  Sometimes though, they clong on despite what I've said.  Though, I do have a few women in ports that were looking for the same thing, and wih whom I've remained on good terms with over the years.  Always good to have contacts in as many ports of call as possible.  A warm bed isn't something to arue against either."  He chuckled, figuring this shouldn't come as much of a surprise given what she knew of him.  "Have you ever broken any hearts, so to speak?  I can't imagin a woman like you going about ignored by men.  Or women, if you're into that sort of thing.  I don't judge."

"That's a pity, not having friends around there.  You'd love my favorite, the Blue Light; best liquors on all of Nar Shaddaa, imported from all over the galaxy.  Real Corellian brandy, even," she adds with a grin, slipping her blaster back into the holster on her thigh.

She wasn't surprised at all by his answer, but hearing it out loud was better than speculation.  She'd seen enough fights in the cantinas, when local women found their men had engaged in a little extracurricular activity while on transport runs, to know to stay far, far away from that.  Hell, one of the boys on Marigg's crew, they'd had to replace him on the last run because his woman had shot him over that incident with those twins.  Lucky bastard had missed the Republic dragnet because of it, too.

A smirk plays at the corners of her lips, remembering the scene, and she shakes her head.  Offering him a grin and a shrug, she calmly retorts, "Have to deal with men that have hearts, to break 'em."

The statement in and of itself was true enough.  Most of the males in their chosen line of work were heartless bastards, out for the biggest score.  Most of the women, too, for that matter.  Still, she felt the need to elaborate.  "Maybe a few.  I'm a little picky, it's been a while.  It doesn't really work the same way for us girls, you know?  If you're only in port for a few days, and you're shackin' up with someone, your crews start to think you're easy.  Hell, everyone starts to think you're easy." She chuckles, a wry smirk crossing her face.  "A crew that thinks you're easy starts to think they should get some too, even if you don't wanna.  That's a mistake you don't make twice, trust me."

She pauses there, closing her eyes for a moment.  "They're out of comm range.  They shouldn't be out of comm range," she comments, opening her eyes and frowning.  "They're okay, though," she hastily adds.

Oriana hops off the console and moves to her seat, propping her feet up where she'd been sitting.  She rolls her head to the side, lifting an eyebrow and watching him quietly for a minute or two.  Once or twice she opens her mouth and starts to say something, only to rethink her choice of question and close it again, before finally asking, "What's your honest opinion of this 'mission' we've gotten ourselves into?"

It is about now that you both notice a few blots in the sky above Coronet, in the far distance.  Focusing your eyes more closely, it would appear some of the invading Sith capital ships have entered atmosphere above the city, and are probably dispensing troops this very minute.

"I suppose that makes sense.  I don't agree with it though... seems stupid to judge women on a different basis than men for the same actions." He did note that she seemed to have alluded to having made the very mistake she was talking about, although he didn't say anything about it.  He figured that, if it had been that important, she might have mentioned it - that, or she wasn't about to talk about it to begin with.

"That really is a handy bit of power you've got there," Hector said, grinning.  "And, I wager the building itself is causing some interference.  We'd know if it was a trap by now I bet."  He leaned back once more, glancing out the window as she asked her question - after going through multiple choices, it seemed.

"Honestly?  I think its idiotic and suicidal.  That," he said, gesturing out the window at the approaching dreadnaughts, "lends some credit to the theory.  I know those Jedi visions are supposed to be spot on and all, but this is just a feeling.  Its idiotic.  I suppose I'll ask the same question of you, actually.  What are your thoughts?"

"I think it's probably going to get us all killed, but at the same time, it beats the hell out of hauling yet another load of someone else's crap in from the ass-end of the galaxy."  She laughs, glancing at the dreadnaughts for only a moment before turning a brilliant grin in his direction.  "Must be the company."

She glances back at the dreadnaughts on the horizon, and looks at the Skyfisher's scanners.  "Think we should hurry them up a bit?"  It wasn't the question she wanted to ask, but it was a question all the same, and the sudden appearance of the Imperial ships had distracted her, at least for the moment.

"Good company does tend to improve things," Hector agreed, returning her grin.  He glanced out again at the incoming ships.  "It might be a good idea, just in case.  I doubt those ships will come out this far though; if conquest is their idea, manors in the middle of nowhere should be their last priority.  Hmm... what are your thoughts on our Jedi tag-alongs?"

She laughs.  "Shanda reminds me of every holier-than-thou instructor I ever had, but watching Duran get flustered is a riot.  Between his overeagerness, and her overthinking, we're screwed.  And not in the good way."  She grins impishly over at him.  "Yes, I heard him stammering at you in the cockpit.  Can't handle me, mm?  Think you can do better?"

While waiting for his answer, she closes her eyes and leans her head back against the headrest of her seat.  Despite forcing most of her concentration onto contacting the others, the corners of her mouth twitch with a repressed grin.

[Private to GM: So I rolled and failed, and then realized (like a dumbass) that I could have been taking 10 on these and making the check all along, so if you allow a Take 10 on this one, the message is the following:

"Hurry it up."  Coupled with a sense of anxiousness and concern.]

The ships are staying above the city in the distance for now.

[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: I'll relay that message to them when a little more time has passed on their end, but yeah you can totally take 10.]

"Most definitely."  Hector stated this with utmost confidence, and it was clear in his tone of voice.  "There's a key difference though.  I know you're a tough woman - you don't need 'handling' in the way he would probably go about it.  Taming would probably be a better word, although it implies I'm trying to change you.  Regardless of the right term, I can manage better than Duran.  For one, we have a whole lot in common.  Plus, you're clearly already infatuated with me."

Flashing his grin once more, he posed his own question.  "I suppose that begs the question though... what's your opinion on the matter?  Do you think I could... handle you?"

"Well, I suppose that depends," she chuckles, opening her eyes and flashing a grin of her own.

Oriana rises from her seat and retrieves her glasses from the console, all in the same fluid motion.  As she turns, her right hand slips over the left side of his face, sliding smoothly over beard and cheek alike, stopping only when the tips of her middle two fingers find the divot beneath his earlobe.  With a gentle tug, she bends to whisper into his other ear, her lips close enough that her breath tickles, "Are you fast and dangerous, or just your flying?"

She grins as she straightens and pulls back, her fingertips trailing along the edge of his jaw before falling away.  Her eyes stay boldly locked on his for as long as it takes her to slip her glasses on once more.  Then, without waiting for an answer, she turns and strides off down the corridor, her footfalls headed for the turret access.

"I'll be back in a sec.  I want to go take a look around from the quad."

Her breath on his neck sent a shiver down his spine as he heard her final question for the time being.  He didn't answer immediately of course, allowing her to trace his jaw as she pulled away.  But as she did so, his hand came up and intercepted hers.  He brought the back of her hand to his lips then and kissed it, as a gentleman might his lady.  Only then did he let her go, and look up with that grin of his.

"All the time, babe.  I'm the kind of guy you wouldn't bring home to meet your parents," he replied, watching her as she left.  Once she was gone, he returned to his work in the cockpit, scanning the screens and watching the cruisers over Coronet.

A good bit more than the proverbial ten seconds had passed since Oriana had departed the cockpit.  Not because she was slow, but because she'd had to stop halfway up the turret ladder to press her forehead against the cool metal there, to take a moment to catch her breath.  Damn, damn, and damn, she mentally berated herself, finishing the rest of her ascent and clambering into the quad cannon's seat.  Fast and dangerous.  You know better, girl.

She takes her time circling the dorsal cannon around, paying attention to the portions of the horizon that hadn't been visible from the cockpit, eventually keying up the commlink to the cockpit again.  ++"You know, Hector, this is my home."++

From the trace of amusement in her tone, it's a good bet that one of her trademark grins is plastered across her face, despite the grim spectacle of the Imperial capital ships over Corellia.

Quite pleased with himself over the whole conversation, Hector made himself comfortable in a way that gave him a view on all the relevant screens and the sky.  When Oriana commed him again, he had his blaster out and was fiddling with it, wondering how her blaster could possibly be any more accurate.


++You know, you're right.  We're halfway towards being in a relationship already.++"  Hector was equally jovial in his reply.  In situations like this, with a grim outlook, one might as well be cheery.

++"Hey, I can think of worse things to do before the Republic military and the Jedi get us killed."++ Oriana's laugh comes through loud and clear on the comm.  ++"Just don't ask to meet my folks."++

She snickers, kicking back in the turret and angling the quad guns up at the sky, making another sweep to the rear of the Skyfisher.  Part of her wished the rest of the team would hurry it up, if just so they could stop having to keep watch on empty sky.  The rest of her was quite enjoying having some privacy for the time being.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:54, Wed 06 June 2012.

"++I can think of better things as well.  Most involve a bed though.++" Hector chuckled lightly.  He didn't have the Force like she did, so he couldn't tell how long the had to wait before the team completed their mission, whatever it was.  Fortunately, he had a comfy chair. "++Don't worry. I think you can make judgment on whether I'm worthy on your own.++"

++"Pretty sure I know where at least one of those is."++  Oriana's smirk carried through loud and clear in her tone, even over the hum of the rotating turret.  ++"You don't have to worry about that, I promise.  No one's made my decisions for me since, well... Since then.  Never again."++

She narrows her eyes slightly, and watches the dreadnaughts and their fighters cloud the horizon in the direction of Coronet, while waiting to hear back from their Jedi on the ground.  ++"You know, this can't be coincidence, Hector. There were a lot of Sith on those dreadnaughts up when we warped in.  I don't know why Shanda or Duran didn't feel them."++

"++Speaking of which, you never did answer my last question...++"  Having thought about it, Hector was rather intrigued.  Not that it mattered if those Sith decided to come their way.  It would be a pity if they did, too.  Probably wouldn't even be enough time to get to a bed, let alone make use of it.

"++But they were here when we got here - or en route at least.  Our being here has to be coincidence, but the question remains: why are so many Sith here?++"

Oriana chuckles, ++"About 'handling' me?"++ She smirks, settling a bit more comfortably into the curve of the turret seat, watching the sky as she teasingly retorts, ++"Was that a euphemism, or were you asking if I thought you were... up for the challenge?"++  There's a definite touch of humor in her voice, like she was struggling to maintain a straight face while asking that.  ++"I'm pretty sure the answer is 'yes', either way."++

++"I suppose they're here for what we're here for.  My concern is still that our Jedi didn't look for them, or didn't see them.  Neither of those possibilities is particularly heart-warming."++

The ship's scanner goes "blip," and a contact shows up on the long-range scanner.  Whatever it is is headed your way fast, from Coronet.  It's about 40km out.

Additionally, brief sparks light up the darkening sky from that direction, and if the ship weren't covering it up you'd bet you'd be able to hear the sounds of heavy weapons resonating from this far away.

For the record, Coronet's about 60km away.  I'm conflicted on whether or not that makes sense given blue shift etc, but I guess the lights would be visible.

[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast: "The message back is simple, tinged with a little anxiety and concern, 'Careful, Sith involved. Going fast.'"]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:11, Wed 06 June 2012.

Oriana's barked laughter echoes down from the turret, even before she keys up the commlink again, practically right after her last transmission.

++"Duran would like to inform us to be careful, there are Sith involved"++  Her words practically drip with sarcastic amusement, and she adds, ++"To which I can only say, 'Well no shit'."++

The *blip* on the scanner doesn't escape her attention, but she knows Hector can see it too, and in light of the Jedi's most recent message she has something much more pressing on her mind.  Oriana relaxes her hands and closes her eyes, tentatively stretching her mind out to feel the Force around them.

[Private to GM: To Duran: Anxiety, and a strong sense of urgency, coupled with... sarcasm?  "No shit.  Get out. Get out NOW."

That done, she's scanning the area for the other Force users.  I know I already have the results, but I want to give Hector a chance to comment on the incoming ship, first, since it'll take Ori a few solid seconds to sense out the others.]

As it closes the distance, more information about it becomes available.  It's smaller than the Skyfisher, but larger than a fighter, which would probably make it one of the Sith's personal transports...thus fast, and well-armed.

[Private to Oriana Cy'Kast:  The familiar itch at the back of your mind begins rising up again...]

"++Sounds like we'll have something to do once we get off Corellia then,++" Hector replied, before lifting his feet off the console to take a closer look at the scanner.  Taking the direction into account, he leaned forward and looked off into the distance for the approaching ship.  It was probably too far away to see now, but in a short time, it would get close enough.

"++Speaking of Sith, how much you wanna bet that incoming blip is one?++" Hector said, with only a bit of sarcasm.  He wasn't incredibly worried about it really - transport or not, it was not likely to be any better armed or armored than the Skyfisher.  Plus, they were on the ground - it would be an easy escape if they had to get out.

A minute ticks by.  It becomes apparent the ground team might not get here before the ship does.

++"I don't need to bet. I know it is. Two of them, and one of them's the strong one from the invasion fleet."++

Oriana shifted in her seat, adjusting her hands on the quad's grips, shifting them a bit to the way she preferred.  ++"Hector?  Our group's beneath us, and not like to get up here before those Sith do... and those Sith know we're here."++  She flicks her hands across the toggles and levers for the guns, bringing various portions of the controls to life one at a time.

She didn't have to say that what she meant by 'we' was really her and the Jedi.

++"I feel a bit like a sitting duck on the ground."++

Hector moved across the console, flipping back on all the instruments he would need to take off in a hurry.  If they had to, they could be in the air in seconds.

"++Wonderful.  Guess we have two options then; we can sit here and wait, and hope they don't have heavy ordnance aboard that thing, or we can take off and deal with them until our group returns.++"  He paused, considering something.

"++We might have a third option.  Oriana, where in the manor are they?  If they can get to a window or an exterior wall, we could just blast a hole and extract them from there.++"

++"About a hundred yards below us, like directly, and rising slowly.  My guess is they're on a turbolift.  I've been trying to hurry Duran up, but he's not seeming to grasp the need for urgency."++ She sounds a little annoyed at this, actually.  The continuing waves of calm patience from the padawan, in the face of her urgent warnings to leave... frankly, she wanted to hit him.  If they survived this, she just might.

++"There's not much those Sith can do with the Force, from inside that ship.  We're safer with them in it, than we are if they land, and at their velocity versus how slow the team's moving... I'm certain the Sith will get here first, barely."++ Oriana spools the quad up full-bore now, swiveling around to get a preliminary lock on the incoming transport, hastily adjusting the targeting array for her preference.

++"By thirty seconds.  Feel lucky?"++

"++Always.  Lets give them a warm welcome, shall we?  I'll take us up only high enough to rotate the ship and bring our weapons to bear on them.  We'll be blocking the landing pad and pounding them at the same time.  I can touch us down quick when the team gets out.++" He didn't wait for a confirmation before working on doing just that.  He didn't need to raise the landing skids or the ramp, after all - he just had to lift the ship up on its repulsors, and tip it back about thirty degrees in order to bring the pilot controlled linked cannons around.

So, Hector did just that.  Taking hold of the yoke and the thruster controls, he aimed to swivel the ship around to face the direction the Sith were coming in at, then rise it up about a dozen feet and tip the nose up.  It would take some concentration to keep it there, but he only needed one good shot from his cannons, and a good blast from Oriana's to dissuade them.

[Private to GM:  17:54, Today: Hector Terrachova rolled 23 using 1d20+13. Pilot. If that isn't sufficient (or not necessary), let me know.  I can add a force point to it, or have the roll ignored.]

++"Warm welcomes are my specialty.  Don't forget to open the door."++

Oriana's laugh comes through clearly on the comm.  It wasn't every day she got to take shots at Sith and risk blowing up some merchant's fancy manor.

This was going to be fun.

**bringing the group back together**