Shadow of the Crimson Turtle

"Indeed we are not." Drael winks back at Nils "Well, that clears things up. I guess it really depends on the fates then.  Would you be able to start and then stop if it was going south, or once you start on it we are committed and as you say, could start looking really suspicious.  I'm a gambler at heart so I'd go for it, you seem like you really know your stuff, and I'm sure between us we can help a bit."   Drael muses thoughtfully for a moment "I'm sure you know the ins and outs of this ship in a broad sense but I could take you through the small modifications that Obrim made, it might help you with your work, I'll get to work on that and give your the information shortly." The small man sits down with his datapad, noting points of interest, before moving off to check a few other things in the cockpit around the console where small changes have previously been made by the owner, stumbling over a few connectors which at first don't seem linked inot the transponder but might well be extra secrity, making special note of these he passes the datapad to Nils. "I think this might prove useful, tell me if I can be any further assistance, my friend."

"OK! Thanks! I'll see what I can do" Nils cracks his knuckes (he wasn't sure whether doing so would cause permanent damage to his shell or not, but it felt like the right thing to do) and heads back to the engineering bay. He had a rough idea of where the transponder would be, and Drael's survey of the ship's modifications would help him find the non-standard tracking device amongst the mess of wiring within the ship's comms system. After half an hour or so of poking around labyrinthine wiring arrangements and confusingly-labelled circuit modules, he finds something that shouldn't be there - linked into the comms and nav systems, a small module drawing power from the main bus but not labelled on any of the circuit diagrams. Although the module was devoid of labels, after following the wiring path through it a couple of times, he's fairly certain that this is what they were looking for. Not quite as complicated as he'd feared - the fact that it was something bolted onto the transponder rather than something integral to it meant that with a few modifications, and the careful bypassing of a couple of failsafes, removing it requires little more effort than isolating it from a power source. Flush with success, Nils decides to show off his skills to the rest of the crew, and starts hacking into the transponder itself. This would prove to be a mistake. Barely five minutes after connecting it up to his datapad, he calls a privileged API one too many times, and the transponder's tamper-warning is triggered. Darn. It's that Port Authority hack all over again. Nils clears his throat nervously as Drael looks on expectantly. "OK, so I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is I think the tracking is disabled. No way to test it apart from trying it of course, but I think I got it all. The bad news... our transponder is now reporting that we've fiddled with it and there's no way to reset that from here. Soooo... we may get some questions when we try to land. Questions of the 'did you steal this ship' variety."

"At least we have time to work out a plausible story, the first thing was getting the tracking off, Obrim won't find it so easy to get to us now.  And nobody ever claimed space piracy was easy, if it was everybody would do it - you'll get it right next time, don't worry." Drael says patting Nils on the shoulder before moving off towards the cockpit.  Sitting on his own in the pilot's chair he taps his fingers against the armrest, pondering how he will spin their arrival in the Bakura system when questioned. 

The next couple of days are quiet. The distant hum of hyperspace and the dim, blue light have a tendency to encourage a mood of quiet contemplation, and most everyone aboard the Yarithian Cut has something to think about. As the journey's end draws near, Sovia reaches out to the force once more, grasping at the threads that would weave their destiny on Bakura. She sees space lanes of freighters, queueing to dock. Intra-system interceptors patrolling the ranks. Space stations lurking in orbit, some glittering like jewels, others dull and filthy. She sees Drael on the comm, a smile on his face and a bead of sweat on his temple. Then the vision fades and blurs, the future too uncertain to see any further. A short time later the Cut emerges from hyperspace with a dull whoompf . In the distance the green and blue planet hangs in the sky with its two sizeable moons. Space traffic fills the orbits of all three.

As they are about to drop from hyperspace, Sovia takes a seat in the cockpit next to Drael.  "There is a queue for landing, they have a checkpoint and fighters and interceptors on high alert. Are you nervous? You will be. Try to concentrate on my voice, keep calm and everything will be OK."

An automated comm buoy pings the Cut with space lane protocols, and a prompt to connect to local hyperrelays flashes up on a nearby terminal.

Drael looks over at Sovia, eyes gradually widening as he hears her. "That is a very unpleasant and simultaneously useful skill, although most of what you've said is common sense and the rest isn't a great leap. Obviously I am going to be nervous, we are approaching a system in a stolen ship, and I have no idea whether our particular flavour of bullshit is popular in these parts. But it never hurts to be a little ahead of the game. Thank you, ma'am." Drael settles back into his flight seat, following the instructions to the letter as they prepare to be contacted. "Let's hope the force is with us shall we?" He whispers to himself in a small voice.

"One thing I have discovered, is the force is with you, always. Whether you want it or not." She responds to the muttering as though it was said out loud to her. 

Ceph's compad buzzes as it reconnects to the hypernet, immediately sending his message to Axos. The automated space traffic control systems assign the Cut to a space lane while they wait for permission to land, and a short time later the ship's comm flickers to life. " Yarithian Cut , this is Bakura Orbital Control. Proceed to Shiritoku station for routine inspection."

While the anxiety from dealing with new strangers had Vin feeling ill for the last few days; he had not had another blackout like that first day.  It had reminded him of being scrutinized for inspection by Imperial brass during their tours.  ' It was unpleasant.'   He had taken a few times to try to acclimate with these newcomers by sitting in the main cabin and trying to understand some of their story.  He didn't get much besides surface platitudes it felt like to him. He sat in the co-pilot's seat in the cockpit watching the Cut emerge from hyperspace and heard the voice of the flight officer over the comms.  As she informed Drael of a "routine inspection," Vin's breath caught.  He stared worriedly at Drael looking for a reaction.

"Well we had to expect it, let's see where this takes us." Drael comments to the rest of the group, his voice even, calm and controlled. Selecting the channel to reply he responds to the instructions in the same tone "Understood, making our way into position now." Making good on his words the pilot deftly steers the ship into the correct path for the Shiritoku station. Making sure the comms is off he turns back to the crew "Level heads are what we need now, nobody screw it up and we'll walk through this."

Vin let out a long shallow sigh. "Frosty" he muttered half-way under his breath.  In his head he started to visualize a battlefield and psyching himself up for combat.  It was less calming, and more about bringing the haze into focus.  He regulated his breath and centered himself.  It was a good routine; it kept you from making mistakes and that kept you alive.  "Yeah, we'll do fine."  There was a marked change in his composure.  Drael had seen him do this a few times when Vin had to get outside of his comfort zone, whether he had noticed it before or not was of little import.

As the Cut exits hyperspace, Nils stands at the back of the cockpit, waiting to hear the outcome of their ruse. Over the comms, he hears the request from Bakura Control for a 'routine' inspection. Is that bad? It sounds like it could be bad... But maybe it actually is routine? Drael doesn't sound too worried... but if they arrest us they might discover my secret... Suddenly, he's struck by a thought - if their ruse was going to be that their transponder had been damaged or tampered with during their escape, maybe the way to sell the story wasn't to try and fix the tampering - which he couldn't do - but to try and make the transponder look more damaged, to cover up what he'd actually been trying to do on it. Without a word to the others, he heads back down to the engineering bay and opens the inspection hatch over the avionics compartment. Yes! I can make it look like it suffered a power surge during combat if I just loosen this wire slightly and connect it to ** BANG ** As the smoke clears, it occurs to Nils that the reason connecting those wires together would make it look like it had suffered a major power surge was because it would cause a major power surge. Hm, he thinks to himself as he surveys the melted wires leading into the transponder. This will take... a bit of time to fix. Somewhat embarrased, he walks over to the engineering station and opens an internal comm to the bridge. "Drael, this is Nils. There is a minor update on the transponder situation in that we now don't have one. Everything else down here looks good still though. Um. Nils out."

"Well that's wonderful, feel free to stop helping anytime you want, my friend." Drael calls back over the comms, hid voice light but Vin sitting next to him can see the tension play out across his face. To the crew, in the cockpit with him he says "Concentrate on your voice, ok, well I could do with all the help we can muster up, lady. So be ready when we need it, there is no way that won't look deeply suspicious, we just  have to hope they either don't care that much or are very lazy." His focus returns to the controls as he checks his alignment with the path he has been directed to follow.

A flight path is transmitted to the Cut , directing them to a hangar bay marked 'customs'. The fighters on patrol don't deviate from their routes, but a lancer -class frigate sits poised forebodingly in the in the inky black of space as the Cut drifts under its nose. Now cleared for landing, the freighter drifts in through the magcon field, before setting down in their assigned hangar bay. Outside waits a pair of troopers wearing light combat armour and armed with blaster rifles. Between them stands a uniformed customs officer, awaiting the occupants of the vessel.

The last two days Lebenha has spent most of her time meditating and almost alone, except for the company of the little black tailring, save the time the crew eated together. She wasn't beign rude or showed that she was angry with anyone, most of the contrary, she just needed some time to herself and to calm her emotions towards beign away from the kids and the station.  She was on the cargo hold, Kreel enjoying the spoils of his last hunt, one of the last mynocks that should remain aboard the ship. Lebenha thinks that the ship should have gained power due to the number of mynocks that the tailring had eaten since they boarded the ship.  She was at the center of a circle of forty wax candles, she had made them using a slight modification on the autochef of the ship. All the candles were lit, casting shadows at the containers of the cargo they were transporting.  The young jedi had a blindfold and she had left her jedi cape on her room. She was on her kneels, with her lightsaber on her lap. She had spent the last twenty minutes meditating. She could almost hear the voice of her Master.  "You must execute the candence in calm, with the mind absent of any thought, of any doubt, your heart clean of any emotion. You must let the Force flow throught you and guide you. Trust in the Force"  Suddenly the lightsaber moved towards her hand and it purple blade came to live. The candence started with a trhust and the point of the saber stopped half a milimiter from the flame,extinguishing it. She kept moving, keeping blowing out candles as she moved the lightsaber right to left, her movements fluid like a dance. She was almost done, lost in her connection with the Force when suddenly.... * BANG* a loud sound nearby made her open lose her balance in the middle of a flip over a leg. She fell with both her legs and arms extended, trying to avoid cutting herself with the lightsaber.  Looking from below her blind fold she saw the last candle cutted by the middle.  "So much for my self-control uh?" she asked to the black socorran tailring who were finishing the mynock and looked to her worried.  "It seems that we have lost track of the time Kreel. It seems that we are arriving to Bakura, we must hurry..."  After a few minutes she entered the cockpit with her cape and hood on. "Everything ok Sovia? " she asked to the other jedi in low voice not to disturb the others. 

Sovia gives a half smile. "Perhaps, perhaps not. It is time for our new companions to show their skills I think."

"Looks like we have to improvise."   Having previously just checked his rifle for the third time, Vin flips the safety on and sets it aside.  "They're not gonna let that play on the deck."   He craned his neck to stretch it and he loosened up his shoulders and arms - getting limber.  "You ready?"  He looked at Drael, "We're calling them refugees, right?"   He shrugs with the question at Drael, "Make this basically a mercy mission."  The thought had occurred to him just now.  Even the Imperials would occasionally let something shady slide for the right price or the right story. 'Maybe these people are bleeding hearts.  That was an outside chance, but it was better than the truth... or we could always tell the truth in the worse case.  Nah, he wouldn't do Drael like that.'  Vin starts to move to cockpit doorway.  

"I think we can certainly play the charitable savers of lives, yes." Drael replies to his partner, as he stands up from the chair, straightening his collar and tousling his hair. "Dont worry, if it all goes to shit, they'll be trying to blast the jedi and we can escape in the confusion." He winks at Sovia as he says it "I'm kidding, and yes I know you aren't a jedi, dont worry we've got this." He moves out of the cockpit at the head off the group "Come on Vin, let's go play nice with the inspection team."

"On your six." Vin replied, falling in behind Drael.

The boarding ramp lowers with a hiss of steam from the overworked hydraulics, revealing Drael and Vin as they come walking down towards the waiting security team. The officer steps forward, tapping at a datapad he carries. He's tanned with sharp features and a face that seems to permanently sneer. His uniform is dark grey with gold trim and a peaked service cap. "Identify yourselves," he instructs, curtly.

Glancing to the base of the ramp, Vin notices the officer but can't place a rank.  He makes a quick count from behind Drael noting the officer's side arm and the two support troopers rifle.  "Hello, lieutenant." Vin making a random guess, "Appreciate your help on this."   Admittedly trying to dodge the question to follow Drael's lead but also not just look like an idiot from behind.  'Hope we're still going with the refugee plan,' Vin thought afterwards.

"Sir, I have to ask, have any of the other ships made it out of the Endor spaceport? We couldn't tell if they were able to make the jump before the Jdroids shot them out if the skies. We barely made it out ourselves.." Looking back at the ship for a moment Drael returns his gaze to the officer "We did manage to save a few people, they are still on my ship. Name's Dre by the way, pleasure to meet you." He pauses to allow the officer the chance to reply.

The officer arches an eyebrow and lowers his datapad for moment. "Lieutenant Simmons, and you haven't checked the news since you dropped out of hyperspace, have you? Endor station stands. A J-droid star cruiser crashed on the forest moon, and every scavenger on the rim is headed there as we speak. You're the first to come down the hyperlane since the attack though. Regardless, your IDs, gentlemen? And a ship's manifest while you're at it."

"We hadn't checked and I'm very pleased to hear that the station stands, hopefully we'll be able to get back there soon, we had business there that we had to cut short. That's assuming we still have a trading partner when we get back." Drael hands over his ID when prompted smiling as he does so. The card is a little bashed up but still perfectly usable. He brings his data pad out and sorts through it for a second until he finds the manifest file he was looking for, then handing the pad over to Simmons "Durasteel and more Durasteel, we obviously have the aforementioned passengers that we managed to pick up just before they got vacced during the attack." He pauses and then looks contemplative for a second, which Vin has seen before and knows is just for dramatic effect, continuing with "We may need to head back to Endor station quite quickly, but we also need to run some repairs, I have to confess I've never been here before, do you know any reputable people able to get us patched up?" The little man seems capable of continuing a barrage of chat as long as needed, hoping to add a little distraction to the proceedings '

Lieutenant Simmons nods in understanding as he inspects Drael's ID and the ship's manifest. "If you bring your passengers off the ship, I can have one of our technicians take a look while we log them," he explains. "For anything more involved, I suggest you try the spaceport in Salis D'aar ."

Lebenha looks at Sovia as the pair goes to meet the authorities. “Guess we have to play hopeless” she whispers with half a smile. 

"Thank you." Vin says as he hands over his ID as well. "It's good the station is still there.  The way it was looking when we jumped, I wasn't sure anyone would be making it out alive."

"A star cruiser crashed? We should go there, think how much great stuff we could salvage from that!!" whispers Nils excitedly to Sovia as Vin and Drael talk to the Lieutenant.

"Wouldn't want to trouble your team, but you have my gratitude for the offer." Drael smiles at the lieutenant, and then turns beckoning the others off the ship. "Well my friend, once we are through with this we should get in touch with the buyer on the station, we may be able to head straight back and pick up our earnings, which considering what could've happened might work out a whole lot better than we'd thought! He exclaims to Vin, continuing his rolling banter, he then takes a few seconds to scan the surroundings "Saying that, we dont know when we'll get a chance to come back this way, might be good to have a look around, see what Salis D'aar has to offer." He finishes looking at the officer hoping to entice a few nuggets of local information as well as keeping him off balance.

"Oh, no," Simmons replies with a shark-like smile, "I insist." He waves a hand over his shoulders and a pair of techs approach the ship, each carrying a box of tools. "This all seems to be in order..." the officer muses, passing Vin and Drael both their IDs back, "and your passengers?" The two troopers to beckon anybody coming down the ramp to come stand out of the way.

Sovia nods to Leb, resolute and in agreement. She smiles to Nils though. "We should most certainly go there. They must have data in their nav computer that we can follow back to where they came from. A vital piece of our journey." She leads the group of 'refugees' from the ship, as instructed, ready to hand over her rather old papers. 

The trooper looking over Sovia's ID gives her a puzzled look. "This is dated over three hundred years BTC," he tells her incredulously.

Nils rummages around in his pockets in the hope they might contain some sort of ID he's missed when he first acquired the shell and its clothing, but finds nothing. When Simmons gestures for it, he shows his empty palms. "No ID, but I'm Nils. Hello!"

Ceph's eyes go wide at Sovia's ancient documents and Nils' lack of them. He extends his own ID and throws an almost apologetic glance to Vin and Drael.

Sovia shrugs. "I'm very old. I've been alone a long time but my planet got bombed by the droids. This is all I have, but I assure you it is me."

The technicians step aboard and after a quick glance at the layout of the vessel, Nils notices them immediately towards the ship's transponder. Meanwhile, Ceph's standard issue RBS ID passes muster with barely a glance. Simmons, however, groans at Nils's cheerful announcement that he has no ID and rubs his temples. "What is your system of origin?" The trooper speaking with Sovia glances from his scanner to the Draethos and back. "I can't validate this with what I have here. You're going to have to wait here." He turns away to mutter something into his comm, and a short time later another uniform comes to collect the antiquated ID.

Nils notices the technicians heading towards the avionics bay but doesn't say anything. He'd just have to hope that he'd accidentally fried it sufficiently that his previous tracks were covered. "Corea. And then to the station at Endor. And then here!" he replies innocently to Lt. Simmons.

Simmons frowns, clearly too tired for this. "Corea station is less than two years old, where were you born , and what happened to your identification?"

Trying to ease the situation, Vin interjects. "Just answer him, Nils.  You're being obstinate.  The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can leave."   He had already been flustered when the security guard had mentioned an antiquated ID from the purple Sith. Now thinking about it again. 'Where is her Imperial ID?  She's Sith and they kept those remarkably up-to-date.  Maybe she ditched it.  Not a bad idea in the current circumstances; He had done it after all.' His mind snapped off the tangent, refocusing his frustration on Nils. 'Nils not having ID was stupid.  He should have brought it up so they could've planned for it.  Such a careless man sometimes.'  He caught himself.  His foot was tapping in urgency and frustration.  He didn't want anyone to think it was out of nervousness.  Maybe that was what he was feeling.  'Where had that solider from less than a decade gone?  He had been able to stare right back at Sith Apprentices, albeit a little sicker a few hours after the experience.  Now worried about glorified paper-pushers.'  He'd slacked off; wasted away in some respects. He'd have to do something about that.

Drael looks over at Vin, as the older man question Nils,keeping his movements small he raises an eyebrow enough to make his point without saying anything, turning back to the lieutenant he adds another attempt at distraction "Imagine living for 300 years, that's amazing, I sometimes wonder if you'd get bored, but the opportunities for travel, all those things you could experience.  I mean, personally, I wouldn't make a big deal about a lady's age but I understand you have your protocols, we all have to comply eh?" He looks back towards the Cut, his mind on the technicians who have gone onboard.

Sovia hands over her identification without resistance to be checked. She gives a half smile to Drael as he muses on her age. "Boredom is for the boring. I see my time as a gift to further contemplate the nature of the force, though now I fear I have wasted it in my isolation. But a conversation for another time perhaps."

Lebenha doesn't seems surprised by Sovia's old ID. She already told her that she has spent that time on isolation. She wonders if she ever would be able to isolate herself from the Force as she did. She waits to hand her ID and raises an eyebrown towards Nils and his lack of proper ID. What that was about? 

Vin starts to react when he overhears the Sith muttering about the force, but decided to keep silent praying that the officer missed the comment or at least didn't put two-and-two together.  After all, they were supposed to keep this civil and his rifle was in the cockpit.  'Then again, if they arrest her... what business is it of ours?'

"Oh. Codia?" , he replies, trying his best to play the part of a naïve backworlder. "I never got given any ID though, I don't even know who I'd have gotten one from. You're the first person who's mentioned it, actually... is that a problem?"

Before Simmons can answer Nils, the two technicians come plodding back down the Cut 's boarding ramp. "Transponder's totally fried," one announces, " looks like a power surge - feedback from the shields." "You'll need a new one," the other adds with a shrug, before heading for the door. Simmons glances down at his datapad upon hearing this news, before looking back up at the strange man in front of him and promptly deciding that Nils can now be somebody else's problem. "What's the status on that ID?"  He asks, squeezing his comm. "All clear, sir," comes the surprised reply a moment later. "Very old, but the details match our records." "Well," Simmons announces, looking about at the ragtag group, "it seems that our time together has come to an end. You're free to proceed to   Salis D'aar . An escort will see you to the spaceport, where you'll need to purchase a new transponder before you'll be allowed to depart. I suggest you use that time to organise your friend here some kind of documentation. Good day." The lieutenant turns and begins to make his way to the door.

"It has been a pleasure, Lieutenant Simmons, thank you for your assistance, we will obviously get that transponder seen to straightaway." Drael gives a polite bow of his head as he says this and gestures for the others to head back to the ship, his hand reaching over to steer Nils away from the departing officer and back towards the Cut. "Come on Vin, let's get moving I feel the need for a little civilisation."

Seeing that one technician does some kind of signal to Simmons, Leb does almost the same to Sovia, indicating that something is happening.

Sovia nods in acknowledgement and looks deep into the force once more to determine the intentions of the men. 

Ceph nods to Drael's comment. "Agreed! That could have gone a lot worse," he adds in a lower tone. "Nils, how do you not have an ID? How'd you get from Codia to Corea station and then onto Endor station?" the eccentric stranger was certainly his favorite among the bunch for his useful skills and 'down for anything' attitude, but Ceph was just now realizing that the man had never before mentioned his origins.