Shadow of the Crimson Turtle

"Fuck, nevermind.  Hurry up."   Vin abandons confiscating the weapon in the wake of the new alarms.  He had heard them before and there was no point in having any more delays.  He looks back at the approaching two figures. "These your friends?" he asks at Ceph.

"Vin, what the fuck is going on back there, who are you talking to?" Drael appears in the doorway to the machine shop, looking down towards the cargo area, having left the cockpit as soon as he heard voices. "What are those alarms? Vin, are we running?" the survivor in Drael takes over, trusting in his comrade to decide what is going on out by the ramp he turns back towards the cockpit, heading for the pilot's chair and starts prepping for flight. Flicking switches, and fitting the headset and microphone he uses to communicate with Vin whilst he can't leave the chair.  Green lights start to flicker on, one bank stays red until a thump from the small man's palm connects with the display and they all turn green "Gotta fix that someday" he mutters to himself.

"GET READY TO JET, DRAEL.  ITS GOING TO HELL OUT HERE!"  Vin yells up the ramp.  A little bit quieter, turning away in case the alien can read lips, Vin taps the comm button on his earpiece. "Keep your blaster handy.  We're gonna have a few extra mouths when we go.  And before you ask... I got a good feeling on this."  He looks back at the alien, waiting for him to announce his compatriots.

"No shit, hey, what do you mean a few extra mouths ?" Drael replies incredulously "You were outside for what, 30 seconds, how did you manage to find hitchhikers?" Frantically continuing to work trough the pre-flight drill the pilot barely even hears his own question as he tries to bring the layout of the immediate area to his mind as well as possible hyperdrive routes from Endor he could use once clear of the station.  "If it goes wrong Vin, lock yourself in one of the other rooms and leave them in the cargo bay, I'll pop the ramps and let the void deal with them. You got me, we can't let a bunch of strangers get the jump on us, no matter how good a feeling you have." He also loosens the holster of his blaster strapped to his thigh to speed up drawing it should the need arise.

Ah, so  that’s  where the explosions come in. Does this mean the terrorist is in league with the j droids after all? There’s no time to think about that now though, instead Ceph just mouths  “THANK YOU!”  and runs up onto the ramp. Once he’s close to the man he nods and points at the others not far behind, and waves them over with a relieved grin.  “Buddy, you’re a fuckin lifesaver. I’m Ceph, good to meet you.”

Not waiting to see if the attack on the station will deter the guards, Sovia drops the security barrier in front of them and drags another from the ground, forming a second barrier to allow her to pass the checkpoint under cover. Seeing Ceph disappear up the ramp she gives a final effort, digging deep into her energy reserves to sprint across the final gap to the boarding ramp. 

The deep, thunderous pounding of the station's main guns firing reverberates throughout the hangar, as the defence systems kick into gear. Beyond the protection of the magcon field, fat bolts of emerald plasma can be seen flying overhead towards the J Star Cruiser, and the space outside is a field of red as the point defence batteries chip away at the swarms of strikecraft. There's a hissing of hydraulics accompanied by the clanking of gears, and a pair of armoured shutters begin to close across the entrance to the hangar. However, as Sovia reaches The Yarithian Cut 's boarding ramp, a damaged drone spirals into the right-hand shutter with a crash, rocking the docks with yet another explosion. The screeching sound of durasteel on durasteel fills the air as the mechanism jams, and then the magcon field fizzles and stutters and is gone, exposing the hangar to the vacuum of space. Anyone inside is immediately surrounded by a howling wind that threatens to pull them off their feet if they don't immediately hang onto something. The cargo crate that Derrab is hunkered against tumbles up and out into the void, taking the normally stoic mercenary along with it. A brief scream of horror can be heard, before the noise is swallowed by the vacuum and Derrab is hurled out into space. Several security officers, and a number of dock workers, passengers and other civilians meet the same fate.

The vibrations of the torn out station wall shake Sovia's bones. She feels the tug of the void and gives a final leap for the boarding ramp. Her long fingers grip a pole and her old biceps, hardened from a century of hard toil tighten to pull her body in close. Her left hand reaches out and pulls the security barrier in behind her, her feet push against it as it scoops her over the edge of the barrier. She pulls it down on top of her, holding her against the ramp against the tug of the space wind. 

"Get that bloody door closed now, we are leaving, and get yourselves strapped in we are probably in for a rough ride.  If somebody can shoot that gun up top, how about getting yourselves in the turret and earning your keep. I'll take anyone else with any kind of useful skills up here with me, now move, move, move!" Drael's voice comes over the ship's comms, the young pilot sounding pumped up and ready to go. While talking Drael is checking his possible hyperdrive routes out of the system.

After following the three back into the crew corridor, Vin's mind is racing.  He looks about trying to come up with a plan to mitigate the risk from these strangers.  Then, Drael's voice booms over the ships comms, echoing in his earpiece.  He felt the repulsorlifts kick on and the Cut  began to shift.  His focus jumped back to the situation.  He points at Ceph, "You, Ceev, Cyf, whatever you said your name was," skipping pleasantries, "can you fire a turret gun?"  'Shit, the ramp.' he thought. Not waiting for answer he points toward double doors heading into the cargo bay. "Through the machine shop, past the cargo, into engineering, ladder to the gun well is dead center."  In the middle of giving the directions, he had turned away and began heading for the ramp controls. A casual thought came to him  ' Hope he's a good shot.'   Closing the distance only a few seconds after finishing the last of the directions, Vincent hit the plate for the ramp to close.  The mechanical whirring began to groan from the strain of lifting against the stress of the decompressing station. That's when he saw it, standing in front of the ramp strut, its lilac skin bright against the worn metal pillar. ' Some sort of alien.'    He was unfamiliar with its species, but it didn't matter now.  Its robes tore against the maelstrom roaring behind it.  In the background, he could see the carnage on the landing pad  a s he reached out for the creature's hand.  He had started to yell 'Hang on' but immediately realized that being before him didn't need any help.  He lowered his hand, and felt the urge to bow slightly, but he couldn't discern a reason. Vin moved aside to let it pass him, not saying a word. As the ship yawed right...

“I’ll see what I can do, I’m not a half bad shot!” He says in a jovial tone before dashing off. He’s eager to befriend and impress this potential new ally. Not only does his immediate survival depend on it, but the potential of picking up the pieces of his mission and his reputation do too. They have a fucking ship! It’s only now as he runs through the vessel l, as per the man’s directions, that he seriously considers the importance of these newfound prophetic visions. Was he actually force sensitive? The questions are pushed aside by his current objective, but an epiphany like the couple before would be helpful now. In truth he had never fired a turret. It couldn’t possibly be harder than sniping with a laser rifle though... right? 

The Cut's navicomputer bleeps and ticks, and a holo-image of systems within range of the ship's hyperdrive appears on the display. The Bakura, Banduki, Cerea, Firrere, Rattatak and Trenwyth systems are all just a day away. Although jumping towards Bakura or beyond will take the ship out of RBS controlled space and towards the unknown regions...

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am going to take us on a trip into Wild Space, place called Bakura, we need to get this ship out of the area and you are all welcome to join us, as long as you don't cause us any grief." Drael starts to bring enough power into the thrusters to have the ship start to move towards the exit, the absence of the shield and the signs of collision damage on one side making him acutely aware that the area is getting more dangerous by the second. "New guy, you in the turret yet?  We may need you, it's a clunky thing but it hurts what it hits, make your shots count if you need to fire." Drael twists his head back looking to see if the rest of the group are getting either into the cockpit or finding themselves seats in the crew quarters, but his fingers are still moving as he carefully moves the ship forward. Banking slightly he eases the ship out and around for a run down the deck, looking to come out and the turn away from the more intense parts of the fight, the sturdy looking craft gradually picking up pace as the distance to the portal gets smaller and smaller. Drael can't, and doesn't try to hide the smile on his face as he pours on the thrust, the ship rearing ever so slightly as it punches out of the station and into the void, missing the top edge of the bay by inches.  Immediately the reality and the danger hits home, several near misses making the pilot wince.  "I'm not planning on staying in this for long but we have a lot of unwanted visitors and this might get messy, stay with me."

Sovia heads forward into the cockpit. Taking a seat behind Drael, she stays quiet not wanting to distract him. She looks through the chaos ahead of them and takes a deep breath, settling into the flow of the force around the battle and looking for the best path through. The little glimpses of the future that used to come so naturally evade her though and she sits quiet, contemplating and trying to reconnect.

Nils also wanders up to the cockpit - seeing the copilot's seat is unoccupied currently, he sits down in it and peers with interest out the front of the ship. "Ooh, there's a lot of them out there, hey? This could be interesting! I sure hope they've got better things to shoot than us!" As the ship accelerates out of the station through the broken blast door, they pass the cloud of debris sucked out during the initial decompression. Nils peers into it with a look of surprise. "Hey, I think I know that guy! I guess Derrab didn't make it onto the ship. Ah well. I'm sure he lived a full and happy life. Up until he exploded that police car. So anyway, did you say we were going to Bakura? That's a coincidence, we were actually talking about that place just earlier today! Wild Space! Sounds fun, right Sovia?" Nils peers around the cockpit, looking to see if there's anything he can do to make himself useful.

Coming up to the doorway of the cockpit, Vincent over hears this out of sorts human sitting in the co-pilots chair, "Well aren't you a cold piece of work."  Glancing around the compartment, not really wanting to sit near the purple skinned alien - something kept setting his stomach off - he braced himself in the doorway looking at the space through the view port. "That's one big intimidating ship.  You think you can out fly it?"   As he spoke the viewport blazed with the explosion of an imploding hyperdrive as another freighter surrenders to the hail of blaster cannons raining from the J-droid interceptors behind it. "Drael, what are you waiting on?  Punch it.  Best speed to the nearest hyperspace window."  Having assessed the danger, Vincent grey haired man in the co-pilot's chair.  "We weren't equipped for combat on this vessel.  Can any of you new guys help jam their targeting?  Might keep a missile lock off of us or keep the main batteries from hitting us."  As he turned out of the doorway, to head to engineering. "And why Bakura?" he asks out loud but not really expecting an answer as he starts to walks away. 

"Fun? Sure" Sovia is a little sceptical of Nils assessment. "Better than being stuck as target practice for these droids. This is the second place I have been when they attack. Ruthless and effective. It reminds me of the mandaloeian wars only less predictable,at least from so close. I think it best we step back and try to see their pattern from safety. I would very much like to halt their expansion." She looks up at Vin as he walks in. Not wanting to interfere with his instructions to Drael. She does however call out an answer as he leaves ." The ship that was blown up by the terrorists originated there. Little to go on I know."

The creature's words peaked his interest and haunted him. 'Were terrorists and J-droids working together? or responding to one another?'  The pieces weren't fitting together. Instead he stood there in silence, thinking in the doorway.  'Drael can outfly these things.' he reasoned. As Drael juked the ship to avoid incoming debris, the momentum threatened to throw Vin to the deck.  He caught himself on the back of Sovia's chair. 'So yeah, no going back to engineering' he re-evaluated quietly.  Wordlessly he shuffled over to the last chair in the cockpit and strapped himself in.

"Hey, so interesting fact about the Barloz, the original A-variant of the freighter had a problem where the impulse couplings would get loose during heavy manouvering and would get out of sync with each other. They totally redesigned how the thrust manifold was configured from the B-variant onwards, but rather than retrofit all the ones that had already been built, they just paid to have a bit of structural reinforcement added around the couplings to keep them fixed. But they can still work themselves free which might be why it sort of judders when you pitch it..." Drael jinks left to avoid a cloud of debris that had formerly been a strike craft before the station's point defenses had turned their attention to it, and there is indeed a slight staccato fluctuation to the standard rumble of the Cut 's engines as they surge to turn the lumbering freighter. "...yes, like that! I might be able to fix it if you'd like, it's probably just a case of hitting it back into place. Though not too hard of course, I don't have to tell you what would happen if it fell out during flight, hey? But it probably won't. I'll go have a look!" He gets up from the chair and wanders back to the engineering bay, only falling over once on the way, which was honestly pretty impressive considering the ship's inertial dampeners were struggling to keep up with some of Drael's manoeuvring (Nils' shell had subroutines for biped things like balance, but they weren't really designed for this environment). The engineering bay is hot and loud, the two engines that straddle it being designed more for leisurely cargo hauling than close combat, but everything seemed to be more or less where it was supposed to be. Nils inspects the engines for a moment, checking for anything obviously wrong (besides the misaligned impulse coupling) that might cause imminent problems. Not seeing anything obvious, he looks around for something he can use as a hammer to give the coupling a whack. As he does so, the thought occurs to him that if the ship's comms equipment was tied into a central network, he might be able to help with the tracking disruption from the engine bay as well... he'd need to plug in though, which might cause some questions to be asked which he'd rather avoid, and he still didn't entirely trust his new force-weilding companions not to lightsabre him immediately. Bearing in mind he'd only known Sovia for a few hours, he'd already seen her liberate one (probably innocent) man's limb from the rest of his body, which didn't extrapolate well across a longer timeframe (though admittedly it wasn't a particularly comprehensive dataset). In addition to a hammer for thwacking mechanical items, he also checks to see if the doors to engineering could be locked from the inside, and if there were any SCOMP cables he could use to plug into the ship with in any of the storage lockers.

Nils opens a drawer and finds the hammer he was looking for alongside a variety of other tools. Excellent. He grabs it, then opens a second drawer, revealing some lengthy SCOMP cables. Even better! He plugs all the cables into one another, mesh-taping the joins for reinforcement, until he has a single cable long enough to stretch across the engineering bay. Then, going to the doors of the engineering compartment, he surreptitiously looks around before pulling them closed and engaging the locks. Holding up the end of the cable, he mentally goes to his shell's 'Settings' menu and toggles 'RearScompPortOpen' to 'true'. He feels around on his back looking for the port, and after only one mistake he finds the correct hole (the base of his neck) and inserts the cable. He detasks the additional processing his shell's compute nodes had been running to improve his strength and dexterity, and reassigns the processing power to his quantum core. With some concentration, he feels the familiar blurring sensation as his consciousness fragments into multiple shards. Almost like being back on Amin, though to a much lesser degree. His thinking now parallelized, he splits his attention between working on the engine and interrogating the SCOMP port to find what comms functionality is exposed on the ship's network. The Nils in charge of his body picks up the hammer and is about to look at the engine again before he hears a sound coming from what he had assumed was a cupboard at the rear of the ship, but now notices is emblazoned with the word 'Gunnery' in large stencilled letters. Ah. So that would be where Ceph was. And there wasn't a lock on that door, the ship designers evidently having decided there was no possible reason crew would ever want to lock somebody into the gun. "Um, Ceph..." Nils shouts. "I'm in the engine room. Let me know when you're about to come out. There's, erm, cables you might disturb if you open the door without warning me." Problem solved , he thinks with satisfaction, as he heads towards the left engine core, cable trailing from the port on his back. He clambers up onto the casing surrounding the left engine core and quickly identifies the offending component - a small grey box with heavy-duty optical cables extruding from either end, and a variety of ' Warning! Fragile Component! No step! ' type warnings surrounding it. He raises his arm for a mighty swing with the hammer, before reconsidering and giving it the smallest of taps. On the engineering status panel, a small dial goes from orange to green.

Leb was running after Ceph towards the ship when they see the man coming out of it. She was going to talk to him when the J-cruiser start its attack.  She stops looking at it, her face pale. She grabs her lightsaber but didn't ignite it.  "The children... They..." She is frozen in place. The communicator in one hand, the lightsaber on the other. She had fought so much, she had lost so much to get them to safety, and then the whole terrorist mess and now... this... she felt her resolve fail for the first time. She is alone now. Her Master sacrified herself to allow them to escape, to other padawans were captured and killed by the J-droids. The Knights fell trying to make a stand on Dantooine... what she could do against that? And now the children are alone and she cannot get back to them.  Sovia passes to her side and she still doesn't move. When the ramp of the freighter starts to go up a small black creature comes down flying from the freighter. It slams his tiny head against Leb's face and makes her snap out of it. The small draconic creature takes something out of his mouth with his claws and bites Lebenha ear while flapping its wings towards the ship.  She runs and jumps into the freighter with the rest of his companions.  She turns on her comm and try to reach Miles. With no luck.  Feeling the void on her stomach she reaches the cockpit the last one and asks  "Is there any gun I can man? I get that this ship is not designed for combat but maybe that could buy us some time..."  The socorran tailring perched on her shoulders takes a bite of the Mynock wing he was eating before going to rescue his human friend.

"We just have the one gun, sadly, but this ship is about to start rolling around something fierce and if you don't get strapped in somewhere you might not enjoy the next few minutes ma'am." Drael calls out over his shoulder. "Hopefully that guy you came in with is ready to shoot and then I'm going to try and get this little lady out of here as fast as possible, but we won't be jumping anywhere until we can shake off those fighters" he says pointing out of the cockpit at a trio of fighters bearing down on them.

"What in the nine rings of D'Qar is that thing?" Vincent, now sitting in the co-pilot chair, turns pointing at the newcomer's pet. His mask of unease can easily be seen through, but he turns back to the console attempting to help Drael in navigating.

Whilst physical-Nils works on the engine, cyber-Nils investigates what the communications equipment is capable of doing. OK, so if THAT command changes the beacon intensity, then THIS command must make it flush the output buffer... He tries transmitting a basic 'ping'. The antenna instead spins 360 degrees and points straight upwards. Whoops, no, they only added that in SCOMP 3.0. It must be THIS instead. The antenna duly transmits a stream of '1's. Gotcha. Now, let's see who's following us... The antenna again spins, this time intentionally, and aligns itself with the pursuing drones. As it does, cyber-Nils hears the muffled sound of cannon-fire through physical-Nils' ears, and he watches on the sensors as Ceph unleashes a couple of shots towards their adversaries. The shots miss, but they're close enough that they prompt a volley of return fire. Uh-oh! The Js' shots streak to the left of the Cut , but are far too close for comfort. Nils hastily starts transmitting. SYN! SYN! There's a long delay, before one of the Js hesitantly responds ... ...SYN-ACK? ACK! As in bACK off, drones! Not exactly textbook, and the protocol wasn't secret or anything, but the Js do indeed back off very slightly as they try to figure out why an obviously hostile ship is saying hello rather than surrendering.

Drael sees the three fighters adjust their trajectory, clearly with a mind to intercepting the Cut before they get clear of the station, knowing that the small, agile craft had a superior speed and manoverability he tries to draw them into danger banking hard, pulling the Cut to starboard, the engines screaming at him in protest. The fighters draw in behind as Drael tries to run the gauntlet of the defensive fire, whilst hoping the enemy can't avoid the same barrage. The four ships weave through the laser fire as the point defenses blaze away, a couple of times the interceptors are forced into evasive action and it looks as though the plan may work but as he moves to break clear a huge emerald blast nearly takes the nose of the craft clean off, the seconds he spends throwing the ship away costs all the time his ploy had gained him, as well as leaving him looking a little stupid. "When we get out of this, I don't really need to have that bit played back to me OK?" he calls over to Vin in the adjacent chair. "Well, I can't fault their reactions, damn droids, so let's try and take it to the ground." As he speaks he spams the ship down, rushing towards the station again, spinning laterally, once and then again, rotating the ship as laser blasts cut the void around them, the silent beams missing time after time as the Drael puts the ship into another hard braking manoeuvre, pulling level almost as they seemed certain to smash straight into the outer surface of the station, the fighters struggling to pull up as quickly as the Cut fall further behind as the ship cuts through the outer buildings positioned outside the station proper, the defense lasers and power generators providing ample cover and obstructing the sight lines of the pursuers.  "We aren't clear yet but we put some distance between us, let's hope they don't call in any friends, the jump is ready but we can't get out until we shake them."

The fighters juke and twirl as they fire their engines and burn to keep up with the escaping freighter. They're gaining on the Cut , but have been forced to redirect power from their weapons systems to do so.

'At least they aren't gaining.' he thought.  Over the intercom,  "Engineering, can you get us moving faster?"   Vincent turned to Drael.   Taking his hand off the transmit button, he lowered his voice and quietly asks   " How are we doing? "  Vincent isn't worried, yet.  Drael doesn't respond, though, too busy honed into the controls.  Off to the right about two-thousand meters, another transport lists lazily to the right, its engines disabled.  He pulls his right hand up to his lip and rests it on the underside of his nose as if to think for a moment.  "Keep it up, Drael."  Vincent's mind wonders wishing he was back on the guns.

"It won't be easy, those things are designed to do this better than we are, top to bottom, I mean I still have a few tricks to try but no matter how good a shot that guy back there is the gun won't do much against their armour and if I slow down to help him aim it'll only let them get closer."   Drael looks over for a fleeting second "Vin, we need some fortune here and I think I used up all my luck dodging that barrage." He smiles to himself, "On the plus side it looks like the one who went into the engine room knows what he is doing, that left hand coupling has been playing up for the whole time I've been on this ship and he seems to have got it back in line with the other one, the controls feel much more balanced." Drael returns his focus to the outside world, the assault playing out all around them, the station was taking damage and giving it back, no quarter asked or given, the amount of traffic in the air around them was almost bewildering, they had to get clear sooner rather than later or they'd become a target for more than just three interceptors.  As if to emphasize his own earlier observation a small shuttle which had been making steady progress away from the station is mercilessly picked off by a pair of interceptors which barely even slow as they rake the stricken craft with laser fire, the ship coming apart instantly, bleeding it's cargo and crew into the void. Smiling grimly Drael continues to bank, roll and pray silently as the trio of enemies continue their pursuit.

"Well a socorran tailring of course " replies Lebenha to Vincent " Then I am afraid I am useless... " she responds to Drael when he says that there is no other cannon avaible.  "Perhaps not..." says Sovia to Leb and she guides her in her meditation to help the others. She tries to stay calm and don't throw up, letting the gravity stabilishers of the ship do their job as they try to compensate for the abrupt maneuvers that rae needed to dodge the incoming fire. 

That seemed to work , thinks cyber-Nils. Maybe I should just try spamming them with commands for a bit. I suppose constant transmission might give them a better lock on to us, but... oh, I'm sure it'll be fine. SYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYNSYN The constant transmission of handshakes does indeed seem to rattle them slightly - again, they pull back a bit whilst they reconfigure their incoming signal. Meanwhile, physical-Nils gets Vin's request for more speed over the intercom. "I suppose theoretically I could reroute power from the containment fields into the fuel injectors, which would give us a bit of a boost, they normally put way too high a safety margin on these things anyway, though obviously if you push it too far it'd start a chain reaction, haha. Give me a couple of minutes, I'll need to rewire the regulators to allow a higher throughput to the management system." As he reaches for the wiring panel, he stops, noticing a control in the corner of the engine panel marked 'engine overclock'. "Um, actually never mind I think I found a better way." He turns the dial from left to right and the ship lunges forwards as the engine output increases noticeably.

Sovia sits quietly in meditation with Leb. As the battle continues she begins to ease back into the comfortable meditation that used to be so easy for her. She remembered that day when Malak struck down Revan, that battle had been strenuous on the mind. That strong, intrusive presence that had clouded everything around them, made it harder to communicate, and how everything they tried, the enemy seemed to be expecting. Bastilla. She had heard the name spoken with fear. Perhaps this was something she could try now. Hard to read the intentions of droids though.  She reaches out none the less. Drael in the cockpit, making snap decisions, counting the options, calculating angles and considering the odds. Vin beside him, trying to think about everything on the ship, especially the memory of firing the guns. Ceph too, looking out with the clearest view of what behind them. And Nils, still nothing there. As little as the droids she could now perceive through Ceph's thoughts. The people on the carrier Vin was looking at. Their panic as they desperately tried to restart their engines. Leb beside her she could feel struggling too to see through her mind as she guides it gently around the ship. Hard to read the intentions of a droid. The debris though, she could feel that. "Bank right, 45 degrees and raise the pitch a notch. Come around behind that stranded transport, make it obvious you are going to rise afterwards though, I should be able to suck some dust across their sensor array if you can make them come in higher than us." He voice is calm but commanding over the cacophony of the battle.

Ceph can’t decide which is more nauseating, the earlier speeder acrobatics or the barrel rolls and maneuvering of this ship. He decides it’s the former though as somehow he is still able to fire a spray of cover, keeping the way clear of droids and detritus that is now beginning to be flung from the ruined station and destroyed ships.

Drael settles into the deadly game of pursuit, feeling the ship respond to his touch, the freighter performing admirably against dedicated and capable foes. Keeping ever alert to the debris and other ships moving through the area the pilot plots an occasionally erratic course, darting one way and then another but always trying to edge closer to an escape vector. Seemingly from nowhere the engines seem to push harder, looking over the displays with a quick glance Drael smiles as he sees power levels rising allowing the ship to reach new speeds, speeds that should enable them to put distance between the enemy and themselves. "You are doing great back there, keep it up!" he calls out the newcomer, who appears to be an expert in engineering. Almost immediately afterwards the alien behind him starts to speak telling him of a route to take.  Appraising it quickly Drael decides it makes sense, seeing the transport he flies under and behind it, dipping low enough to telegraph the subsequent rise, on cue the interceptors try and capitalise on what they assume is a mistake and as Drael powers away they seem to struggle for a few seconds, losing their focus and allowing the cut to get even further away. Drael smiles, as he checks the display, looking for any signs of trouble. "This is good, everyone pulling together, we carry on like this we could do this." He sits back into the red leather flight seat, the ominous creak sounding out despite the activity of everyone else "That was the chair, honestly it was the chair.." Drael mumbles as he shifts the pitch again to dodge a spiraling chuck of interceptor, and thens plunges on further into space away from the station.

The Cut is locked in a dead heat with the fighters as they twist and twirl to keep up. Then another barrage from the station's point defense guns shreds the interceptor on the port side, sending the other two spiralling out to avoid the debris. As Drael burns hard for empty space, heading away from the battle, the starboard drone also peels off. It arcs back around to rejoin the battle, but the last ship maintains its course, doggedly pursuing the freighter.

' How did she know to do that? ' he questioned, fascinated by the creature’s almost hypnotic words.  The instruction and execution were flawless, almost like. ' A jedi? ' his mind raced, he thought about the blaster, but that was stupid.  He wasn’t nearly as fast as he used to be. Too close quarters, and not really an appropriate time.  A haze of thoughts and plans went through Vincent's head, and in the small stillness came ' That uneasy feeling though. " Its was off-putting, when he had served as a security officer years before, some of the Dark Councils’ apprentices would be sent to relay messages to the Minister.  It wasn’t the same palpable dread though, sort of a reserved malice .  It could be her hideous alien features or something else about the creature that pulled at his stomach.  He looked for a lightsaber; the robes weren't anything obvious, no insignia.  Just as he was to give up his visual inquisition on the alien, he passed over to the other stranger in the cabin.  The human female had Jedi written all over her. He had managed to kill a Jedi in similar robes once. ‘ Hated it .’ he remembered as his finger pulled the trigger in his memory.  And then his next thought made the bile in his stomach rise. ‘ Have to get my mind off of it .  The gorram Jedi can read your fucking mind. ’  So instead he focused his thoughts on the tailring; looking at its tail rattle and the patches of fur on its scaly body.  Those wings were dramatic and slightly intimidating if on a grander beast. A shutter from the ship dodging debris reconquered his focus. ‘ Drael was right.  We could always flush them out the airlock if need be.  Never seen a Jedi survive vacuum..., for long.’   That thought brought him just enough peace to focus back on the ship.  He flipped a few switches and tuned the dampeners a bit more due to the amount of shifting they were doing.  It might have shifted lighter loads of cargo, but those ingots weren’t going anywhere. “ I think you got it Drael. ” he congratulated.

Maybe I can make Ceph's job easier... thinks cyber-Nils. Boosting power to the comms array, he blasts the remaining fighter with static, trying to blind its sensors to incoming fire without just giving it a stronger signal to lock on to. Meanwhile, physical-Nils is managing the coolant flow to the engine - the overclock has auto-disabled due to thermal protection overrides, but by routing the coolant to the parts of the engine that needed it most he can keep it running at its usual efficiency.

“Ok ok ok ok...” he mutters to himself. So far they were doing good, and everyone seemed to be working well as a team. It was an inspiring feeling, and riding the surge of adrenaline Ceph decides to contribute more than just cover fire. Still getting used to the targeting system, he manages to lock on to their lone pursuer.  Maybe I can cripple them. He fires three shots hoping to hit... something sensitive? He remembers again that he is quite out of his depth, the city boy doesn’t know a thing about how ships work. This is made evident as all three shots are harmlessly deflected by the enemy’s shields. I’ll have to get Nils or one of these new guys to give me some lessons if we get out of here.

'Oh, for fuck's sake...' he thought.  Immediately regretting letting someone else man the gun, Vincent tosses his connected headset down and starts to rise, but its Drael's quick dagger-like knowing look that stills him.  It was like saying 'Not Now'.

Sovia's consciousness continues to watch over the intentions of those on and off the ship, she senses Vin's hostility, a momentary flash of anger and resentment and the violence beneath almost has her reaching for her weapon, but he quickly calms and she focuses once again on the surrounding ships and space debris, trying to pull what she can into the path of the guns of the pursuing ships.

The fleeting moment of eye contact he shared with Vin was all Drael needed to plan his actions, they weren't going to blast their way out so he would need to up his game and get this ship away from the fighter, jinking hard to try and confuse it he pours on more thrust trying to get clear through raw power, it seems to be working as the distance increases slightly, the interceptor pulling in behind for an attack run is slightly too telegraphed and it saves the Cut adn it's crew for now at least, as the fighter fires Drael is already anticipating the shots and barrel rolls past the first blast and then climbs behind another piece of debris letting what looks like some sort of bulk lander take the hits, which results in something serious exploding, the cloud of particles and scrap metal blindsiding the interceptor as Drael pulls the Cut further away "Nearly there, just get me one more boost out of the engines and I can do this, shooting it is like trying to shoot wings off a fly."

'Drael was right... He wouldn't be able to shoot these ships any better.  It wasn't a measure for the newcomer's ability.' he paused for a moment and placed his headset back on.  Thinking about the situation, he decided to try to be positive.  Vin takes a breath and lets it out slowly, similar to the way he saw snipers trained when executing long range fire.   "You get 'em next time, Seef." unknowingly putting the wrong emphasis on the name. "... but Drael's right.  We aren't shooting our way out.  Keep to cover fire or we'll drain the power reserves."   Taking a moment to remember the name, a sudden wave of relief washes of him.  'At least its not an Astromech in engineering, droids are so unreliable.'   As he was about to call out to Nils in engineering, all that came out of his mouth was "LOOK OUT!" as  a small liberator-class fighter painted up in non-republic colors veers past the Cut, nearly colliding. Drael expert juke made his stomach queasy for a moment, but they weren't dead yet.

Perfect! thinks virtua-Nils, as they fly past the frieghter. I doubt that droid's after us specifically, maybe we can trick 'em into thinking there's easier prey! Realigning the dish to point at the other ship, he blasts a range of extremely high frequencies at the other ship, in the hope some will bounce off and roughly mimic the sort of emissions a malfunctioning reactor might cause. Maybe their pursuer would be tempted to focus on a slower, weakened target? Meanwhile, IRL-nils tries to keep his balance as the ship undergoes some manouvres that would be stomach churning if he had a stomach (he was pretty sure he didn't, though he hadn't actually checked...). The coolant finally wicks away enough heat from the engines that he thinks it's safe to boost them again. "Aye aye cap'n," he replies, and dials up the reactant injectors. The roar of the engines gets noticably louder as the ship surges ahead.

Drael continues his reckless breakneck run through the debris and the battle noting that the enemy interceptor seems to lose focus in it's pursuit as they use the fighter as a temporary shield, the engine levels come up again almost simultaneously , and the smile on Drael's face threatens to take off his ears as he hammers out of the ring of death the J-droid attack has created, with barely a backward look he pushes harder and harder, knowing each second means a greater chance of survival but at the same time the fingers of his right hand are dancing over the hyperdrive control console.  With the route already laid in it doesn't take long and Drael's own skill with managing hyperdrive jumps means he hits the final sequence with confidence despite the lack of preparation time he would have preferred. The world seems to stretch out as the group in the cockpit all look out across the stars as they elongate into white lines that never end for a second or two, the hyperdrive engine engages and the Cut barrels forward into a maelstrom of swirling light as the ship and it's crew are catapulted towards the Bakura system. "We did it, let's get gone."

Vincent throws a celebratory light punch into Drael's shoulder.  "You did it."   The spectre of hyperspace loomed in the viewport ahead of him, like a swirling vortex.  He always enjoyed hyperspace, this time even more so.  His adrenaline had been racing like the old days.  This brief outburst of joy swells in him as the cage of tension lifts for a moment.  But only for a moment, and the moments gone.  As the smile quickly vanishes and his new worries wash over him. 'About the Jedi' he thought daring his passenger to be reading his mind.  'We're outnumbered 3-to-1 assuming they are all with her and with a Jedi that basically 10-to-1.  If they were in the cargo bay, it would be better.  But as it is, negotiation would be the preferred outcome.  Jedi could be reasonable, sort of; some of the time.'   His rationalizing carried on rapidly; escaping his hold on it. Vincent turned back toward the two passengers looking for a sign that they were listening in his head. 'Hutt's bath water... it didn't fragin' matter either way.  He would still need to convince Drael to sell the shipment and try to break even with Obrim.  Piracy was stupid.  He could justify the out of route jump to Bakura with the attack.  Especially if it was true, he just wished he could get that kind of eloquence out of his mouth.  Drael was clever and good at talking. This still could work.  Things would just need to fall right.'

Sovia sits silently, waiting for one of their hosts to break the silence, she opens her mind to the force, allowing the herself to reconnect and discover some of her old abilities. Meditating with Leb had helped considerably to free her mind during the battle. She senses the nervousness and hostility of Vin once again, though not accompanied by the violence now it seemed. A strange one, I wonder what his issue is. She closes her eyes, seeing through the force as she once did, trying to gain a feel for what was waiting for them on the planet.

Checking the console Drael nods to himself, satisfied the ship is stable on it's course and that the hyperdrive is holding up well. He turns his chair towards Vin, focussing on his comrade for now. "We discussed what I'd like to happen now, I think we've been given a chance to disappear with nobody looking for us, I say we take this.  The only reason I'm not saying this to you in private is because whoever that guy is back there who has been keeping the engines running hard the whole time we were in real space is probably our only chance of disabling the transponder before we come out of hyperspace, and that means we can just disappear, like we got obliterated in the attack.  Whoever ends up winning the amount of carnage was colossal, there were so many ships vaped that they'll never be able to track what happened.  I get the feeling you aren't completely sold but just think of the opportunities." Drael holds Vin's gaze with his own icy blue eyes, the wolfish smile showing his perfect white teeth and Vin is reminded how many other people have gone along with whatever the charismatic young pilot has suggested over the last few months, most of them young women Drael has taken a shine to in various cantinas. "I'm only doing this if we are in it together Vin, I'm not going to fight you on it, but if we don't vanish, and vanish fast we may have a whole load of problems explaining this all to Obrim. Just saying."

Nils hears the change in tone of the engines as the ship launches itself into hyperspace, a fact confirmed an instant later by the shard of his consciousness manning the comms. Looks like a clean getaway. Time to introduce yourself to your new hosts? asks his counterpart. Guess so. Knowing my luck so far, they'll turn out to be Jedi too... He closes his eyes and feels allows his personality shards to synchronize, their thought patterns converging towards unity as their memories are interleaved, until the two processes are indistinguishable from one another and one can be terminated without loss of data. This complete, he pulls the cable from his neck and closes the port, the metal folding back on itself until his skin is once again seamless. "OK Ceph, I think it's safe to come down now," he calls up to the gunwell, before unlocking the engine room doors and heading up the bridge to see what's what. Sovia and Leb are still up there beside the two men whose ship this presumably was. He thought he'd heard the younger one flying the ship referred to as 'Drael' - he had a smile on his face and looked excited, possibly still feeling the effects of the adrenaline from being chased. The older one looked more worried. They're clearly in discussion and Nils isn't sure whether to interrupt or come back, so he compromises and waits awkwardly in the door, giving a little wave when one of them spots him there.

"That smile may help you chase skirts, but don't think you're gonna pull one over on me."  He immediately regretted his abruptness.  Vin winced in anger.  Trying to rethink his words, he took a shall breath trying to hide it from Drael.  "I mean you have to buy me dinner first."   'Seriously, what the fuck are you saying, Vin?  Say another dumbass comeback one more time and I'll kick my own ass.'   He quickly tried to grin to pass it off as a joke.  An awkward one to say the least. He tried a different tactic, although with his lost momentum, Vin was pretty sure this wasn't going to work. "Okay kid," trying to appeal to his younger age, "plasteel gurips, where do you see the end game?  Let's say you get the engineering genius to disable the 'ponder or rewrite it," Vin begins struggling for the words, "or whatever.  We sell the cargo... make a few credits.  Then what? Take up some bloody Mando' code and never show our faces in public?  Even if they don't track the ship, there are bio-scanners. "

"It wouldn't be just a few credits, and the galaxy is a big place, especially if nobody I'd looking for you because they think you got vaped in a J droid attack., but I said together or not at all so it's done if you aren't in. Now, maybe we should get to know our new friends a little." Drael flicks on the comms, calling out to Ceph in the gun turret "Hey, Hawkeye, come up to the front and join us, we are going to have a little chat." The smile is maintained but Drael looks away from his friend with harder eyes than usual. 

'It worked?' Vin wasn't sure how to take that.  He never won arguments. Of course, never really fought for one either.  He'd always taken orders and followed other's leads for a long as he'd been in the service.  It started as a hollow feeling.  He sorta had hoped Drael might have a bigger plan.  It would have been so much easier to get behind a good plan.  As he thought of it though, Vin started to realize his situation. 'This was great.'  He definitely didn't want to be at odds with Drael.  He'd come to enjoy the young man's company over the past months.  His relief had drowned out Drael's message over the comms.  He'd caught 'have a chat'.  Vin's momentary surge of  confidence got the better of him, and he spoke without hesitation.  Immediate realizing the potential error as the words left his lips. "Yeah, I'd like to know what kind of people run around having a Jedi in their pocket."