Shadow of the Crimson Turtle

"I with you on that, Drael." Vin sighs after getting out of eyesight of the inspectors.

Sovia feels an indifference from the man, but not aggression or malicious intent. A few minutes later a trooper returns with her ID.

"It's like I said, nobody ever asked for one before!"  protests Nils, as he heads back to the ship to check the technicians hadn't messed anything up (more than it already was). "Do you think I can get one here?"

"You probably should... if you intend to travel in civilized space..." Vin suggests and then ponders a second, "... and where is Codia anyway? "

"Oh, the Mid-Rim. Pretty near here, but not on any of the major hyperspace lanes. Nothing interesting on it really." He felt a little bad about lying to his companions, but he also suspected their reaction to learning his true identity might be... less than positive, based on some of the things they'd already said about the J-Droids. Trying to change the subject, he grins at Ceph and says, "Maybe you should try and get a new ID too Ceph, your current one didn't do you much good on the last station, hey? That board at the docks had a nice big picture of your face on!"

Drael smiles at Nils' dig at Ceph and having seen the ID returned to Sovia continues back to the ship "Come on, let's put some space between us and this station."   He walks up the ramp and immediately begins heading to the cockpit. "Nils, you try not to break anything on the way down to Salis D'aar, OK?"   Once in his chair he begins the process of checking the ship is ready to take off and plotting the route to the surface.

As Drael activates the navicomputer he finds that they've received instructions for a flight path to Salis D'aar from space traffic control. They will receive a fighter escort to a docking bay at the central spaceport.

Ceph takes the jab in stride. “Yeeeah maybe I should. Maybe I should change up my look while I’m at it,” his bioengineered skin shifts to a vibrant green, and the mop of tentacles upon his head organize themselves into a mohawk. “What do you think?” He says with a smile. “I’m not sure if it suits me, so keep your fingers crossed that my boss can help us out in that regard.” As if to punctuate the statement he checks his pad for any response from Mr. Axos.

"I didn't know you were a clawdite.  Is that your real form?" Vin asked slightly intrigued.

Ceph's datapad vibrates and he receives an encrypted message from an unknown source. However, the encryption protocol is immediately familiar to him as that used by his employer, and decodes into a series of numbers. 65 56 73 31 22 77 78

"We've got our parking space lit up and waiting for us, looks like fighters are going to steer us in, but I guess that is standard.  Looks like we managed to pull this off so far.  There is one important thing we need to discuss - with a new transponder we are going to need a new name for this little lady.  Anyone got any ideas?  Nothing says space pirates like a cool name eh, Nils?" Drael chuckles to himself as he flicks switches and looks over the given course.  As soon as they are ready he begins to get the ship up and out towards the spaceport on Salis D'aar.

"Listen to yourself, Drael.  What did you just say?  You don't want to advertise that."  Vin scolds.  "Give it something simple. You like to gamble, call her something like 'The Lucky Lady' , but I'm leaving if you name it some crazy like 'The Black Vendetta' ."

Ceph doesn’t respond immediately as his furrowed eyes are glued to his screen. “Hmm? Oh uh nah I’m not a clawdite.” His form visibly relaxes, and his skin returns to it’s usual mottled palette of browns and tans while his “hair” lowers to once again resemble tousled locs. It’s apparent that it must take some effort to consciously change his appearance as he was. “I’m- well I was a human originally. This is a specially designed shell. Guess it’s up to whoever whether they still consider me human or not.” he says with a shrug. At the mention of naming the ship he perks up a bit more. “Black Vendetta has a nice ring actually. Or even just ‘The Vendetta’,” he thinks and then shakes his head as he decides against it. “Eh, no, trying too hard to be edgy.” Again he looks deep in thought as he tried to come up with other name options.

"Black Vendetta, hmm not bad, not bad at all."  Drael muses to himself then looks straight at Vin for a few moments before the smile breaks out over his face "Ok, fair enough, not the Black Vendetta - but I don't want anything ridiculous, the Lucky Lady is so boring, I'll bet there are loads of ships with that name through the galaxy.  Something that sticks in the mind even though it doesn't really make any sense like the Century Hawk, or the Millenium Falc... no, that sounds stupid too, I don't know, but we need a name.  Won't take long for a technician to fit a transponder once we get planetside. Thinking caps on, or thinking hoods up, if that works better for you force users."  

Thinking to himself, he thinks about the Drael's names 'Century Hawk ... Sentry,' and then... "What about 'The Vigilance' ? It's not so 'edgy', as you put it, Ceph.  And its not necessarily boring."

As promised, two strikecraft fall in either side of the ship once it has left the docking bay. The descent through the atmosphere is breathtaking as the verdant mesas and jagged coasts of the Prytis continent unfold beneath the freighter. The capital city of Salis D'aar is both sprawling and modern, filled with shining buildings and expansive plazas. Once Drael begins the landing procedures the fighters both peel off, heading back up into orbit, leaving the vessel to sink slowly into its allocated hangar.

"The Black Vendetta..." Nils says softly, as a black flag marked with white skull and crossbones flutters through his imagination. "...that's a good suggestion Vin. You'd need to have a vendetta against someone for it to work though. But I like it. If you don't want that though..." He mulls for a moment, trying to come up with some equally fearsome possibilities. "The Dread Mantis ? The Stellar Void ? The Kraken's Maw ? Oh, or how about the Sanguine . Means hopeful, but also bloody. Then you could call it Gwyn for short and paint a lady on the front like pilots always do on the holonet."

"Hmm, I like that, has a ring to it.  Not sure about painting a girl on the front though, always seemed a bit of a cliche to me." Drael replies as he finishes the landing, checking the positioning all the way in, lining up perfectly, reversing the ship as he closes to have it facing forward towards the exit, an old habit, that had helped him out of more than one scrape in the past.  Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, before spinning round to the others. "So I need to get somebody onboard to fix this transponder, which is going to result currently in the ship being renamed the Sanguine, then I'm going to try and shift all this Durasteel, if you think you can get some jedi mind tricks to help get a good price you are more than welcome to accompany us.  You have said you want to check leads about where the bomb in the station came from and Ceph, I guess you might have some information for us, or not, I don't know."   The little pilot gets up, checking the blaster strapped to his thigh holster, by reflex more than anything and then straightening the lapels of his leather jacket. "Time to go and make some friends? Vin, you coming with me or doing your own thing, if you are going off keep an eye out for somewhere fun to spend the evening, I aim to relax later, hopefully in the company of you all and a few good bottles celebrating making a killing on the cargo."

Leb doesn't speak while they discuss the name of the ship. She feels that she hasn't nothing to say about it. It was their ship after all, even with the kind invitation to do so.  When Drael suggests that they could go with him she nods.  "Not the way the Force should be used, but I guess that we owe you after all... I will go with you if that's ok" she says, lifting her hood and hiding her lightsaber under her cloack. 

"The Sanguine. Gwyn . Yeah, I can get onboard with that." he says, then smiles at the unintentional pun. His skin shifts again into a vibrant vermillion red. "We could paint her this color!"   As they all get ready to explore the cosmopolitan locale, Ceph leaves behind his large sniper rifle, armed only with the knife strapped to his thigh. As Drael mentions Ceph's information, he looks quickly to his screen and then over at Nils. "Uhm yeah boss sent back an encoded message, makes sense as to why. Nils I might have you take a look at it. And we need to get you an ID annnd maybe ask about work?" he turns to the large Draethos in the room. "Wanna come with, Sovia?"

"I think I'm gonna take a little walkabout.  Ne'er been out this way before." Everyone was pairing up for travel, but Vin really wasn't sure anyone would randomly just want to walk with him.  So he didn't ask.   "I'll keep an eye out of a bar, if that's what you're looking for, Drael."   He was really hating his conscious; on the one hand they were knowingly committing piracy, on the other, they didn't have much choice in the circumstances.  'So why was it bugging him?'   He wasn't sure, but all he knew is he didn't want his hands directly liable for the criminal activity.  Maybe he could look the other way and satisfy his honor that way.  'I hope.'  Leaving the group, he heads down the ramp, only carrying a basic knife in case he came across a wild beast or some ruffians in the outer districts of the city..  He wished he had a sidearm.  Perhaps he could take care of that in the city.  Irregardless, Vin's head was miles away trying to see a path through the stars before him as he disappeared into the winding city streets.

"Take care then my friend, stay in touch and don't do anything crazy without me." Drael smiles over at his companion. "Well then Lady Jedi, shall we get going?" The pilot moves off looking for somebody who can provide him with directions to somebody who can replace the transponder, as well as the location of likely traders.

Outside the spaceport, speeder traffic abounds. Taxis and other forms of public transport all are available nearby to take new arrivals wherever they need to go. Unsurprisingly, there are also several businesses in the immediate area that cater to the needs of those docked in Salis D'aar . Bars and restaurants featuring tourist prices stand front and centre, all competing with one another, with each holographic sign more extravagant than the last. Fashion boutiques boast the latest trends besides stores filled with toiletries, suitcases and other traveller's supplies. Clubs full of holographic gaming systems and exotic dancers line the lower levels of the complex, interspersed by licensed gun shops. Anything a visitor could possibly want, all in one place, for a price. Price is the word of the moment. Just docking in the capital is going to cost 20 credits per day. The Gwyn 's fuel tanks are at half capacity after the jump from Endor, and it would be wise to take care of the issue while still in a civilised system. Closer to the the hangars, service providers offer maintenance teams, spare parts and refuelling, as well as a variety of workshops. Drael and Lebenha soon find themselves meandering into " Boto's Parts and Machine Store " in the hub closest to their own docking bay. The proprieter, Boto, is a towering besalisk and he greets the pair with a toothy grin as they enter. "Visitors! From off-world?" He hazards beckoning them both inside. "What can I do you for, folks?"

"Boto, I presume, good to meet you.  My name is Drael, my companion here is Leb, I'm from a lot of places, but you are correct, Salis D'aar is not one of them.  I did, however, ask a few honest looking folks and they all recommended Boto's as the place to come for a good value, honest service.  Our ship is in need of a little care and attention, namely a new transponder, but we also need to fill her up and shift our cargo, if you know anyone who might want to buy about 100 tonnes of Durasteel."   Drael looks over the tall alien, paying attention to any reaction his opening gambit provokes. "You know, if we can get a good price for the metal we might have some more work for you, lots of ways I can think of to improve my ship. If you are interested, of course."

Lebenha opens herself to the Force, trying to read the feelings of Boto, ready to give a hint to Drael if needed.

Nils peers at the message on Ceph's datapad. "Could they be coordinates? Two pairs of 3 numbers, could be a latitude and longitude?" He heads to the navigation computer to see if they point to anything of interest on the surface of the planet. "And yes, both ID and work would be good things to find here. I'm not sure where  we go to find them but maybe you can help with that. We can ask about the bomb too, but maybe delay that until after everything else is done. You know, in case we have a... repeat of what happened last time we tried investigating."

"Weeell,"  Boto replies with enthusiasm, turning left and right with two of his arms wide, as he gestures to his stock. His other two hands remain in his pockets.  " Boto's Parts and Machine Store  is indeed the one-stop-shop for value and honesty! A transponder eh?"  The alien lets out a low whistle. "Those don't come cheap - complex little buggers. Built into the sublight drive too y'see. That'll run you a few thousand credits for sure. What happened to yours anyway? S'not often I see transponder damage. They're built to last they are!" Lebenha detects earnest and friendly intent from the Bato, coupled with a hint of suspicion. When Nils plugs the coordinates from Ceph's message into the local GPS, they point to a location across the city in Salis D'aar . A branch of a local bank.

"Ooh, look!" exclaims Nils, as he gestures to Ceph to look at the resolved coordinates. "A bank! Do you think your boss wants us to heist it? We'd have plenty of money then. Maybe the last number is a safety deposit box containing something valuable. Jewels? Credit chips? Gold-pressed latinum? This could be the first big score for the crew of the Dread Mantis !"

"A bank! Hopefully it is a safety deposit box and we don't  have to heist it. Maybe the numbers are also a password?  Guess we won't know till we get there. Maybe someone at the bank can point us at the right place to get that ID!" He gestures for Nils to follow and then dashes off towards the streets of Salis D'aar. Ceph is clearly enamored by the riot of colors and holographic light. "This place is jumpin! Ooh there's a gun shop, might need to get myself something more discreet than my current weapon. But bank first. That placed looked pretty far across the city right? Should we get a taxi?"

Sovia looks up, slightly startled at Ceph's invitation. "Sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts. Yes I will come with you." She glances at Nils with curiosity, in reality she didn't want to leave his side again and risk him running before she found out why she couldn't penetrate his thoughts. " A bank now? Interesting. Perhaps he has stashed for people in these situations. As a backup. I could perhaps do with updating some ID too, the security team seemed less than happy with mine. Easier, less unusual documents may be useful if we wish to avoid attention later." She picks up her small bag of belongings and follows Ceph and Nils from the ship.

"Yeah, it was a strange thing.  We caught somebody trying to steal the ship whilst we were on Endor, just before the J-Droid attack, they escaped but we saw they'd smashed up the transponder, presumably trying to stop us tracking them once they'd gotten away. Anyway we obviously need to get the Gwyn back up as quickly as possible, once we've sold the durasteel could we get you and your crew onboard straight away?  I mean obviously you are welcome to start right now, but we are going to need to sell the durasteel to pay you..., which means that the profits for this run, are going to be in the gutter but then it could have been a lot worse, so at least we still have our ship, the cargo and our lives, when we could have been space debris at the hands of the J-Droids.  Now, getting away from those fellas wasn't easy I can tell you.." Drael seems ready for more story telling should there be any interest from the besalisk.

"Well, that's quite a tale!" Boto remarks, seemingly happy to chat and listen. "You know I might be able to help you with that cargo. One of my suppliers is a firm by the name of  Greuter Components . Owner's called Felix. You give him a call and tell him that Boto sent you. I'm sure he wouldn't turn down a haul of durasteel on the cheap!" Ceph, Nils and Sovia head to the first taxi on the rank of speeders outside the spaceport and peer inside the passenger window. The driver is a heavy-set, dark-skinned man with long curls of black hair, a thick bushy moustache and tinted sunglasses. "Get in, get in," he beckons amiably with a strong local accent. "Where you want to go, travellers?"

"Sounds good I'll do that and be back in touch when we have the credits.  You've been a big help, Boto, We'll see you soon and I'll tell you about running the gauntlet of J-droid interceptors as we escaped from Endor station, that was some chase. Are you ready to go and see this Felix?" Drael asks Leb, and assuming she agrees gives a short bow to Boto and departs after getting the address of Greuter Components , heading there as quickly as possible. "On the way, once they are alone he comments "I think we should get our business concluded and get the ship ready for departure as quickly as possible, your friends seem very skilled at putting themselves in harm's way and it never hurts to have a way out when needed."

Ceph shuffles into the vehicle with the others. "Thank you, thank you! We're going to this bank on the other side of town," he'll recite the address and cover the fair himself seeing as this excursion was going off of his intel. Once they get driving through the glimmering streets of Salis D'aar, Ceph will lean forward towards the driver. "So we're actually new in town if you couldn't tell. Any chance you know where we might go to look for work? Any... odd jobs or such. We do have a ship if that helps."

Nearly a half hour had passed since he began walking out of the spaceport.  He wanted something natural to sit and relax in.  'This was supposed to be a bloody backwater.' he chided.  'Why is it this city was a gorram metropolis?'   Lost in thought he said aloud,  "Its not fair."   Talking aloud finally snapped him to his surroundings; he hadn't been paying attention, just avoiding people. This situation was stabbing at him. It seemed to betray his code of honor, and he was trying to cope with it the best he could.  Eyeing the surround, he wasn't near the spaceport though he could easily see the sky lane traffic ebb toward it when he was ready to head back.  'Where am I?  I need to find a map from a holo-terminal.'

"I look forward to it!" Boto assures Drael with a broad smile. "Say hello to Felix for me!" The Besalisk mechanic returns to his workbench, puts on a visor, and begins welding two pieces of metal together. The address that he has given Drael looks to be situated on an industrial state near the city limits. "Yes, yes! Habib will have you there before you can say namana !" The taxi driver replies with enthusiasm as he takes Ceph's credits. "Where are you from, travellers? Plenty of work to be had in Salis D'aar . Mining consortium always hiring, repulsor industry needs workers. The economy is booming here! You have a ship? Buy cheap, sell high! That's the game, you know?" Habib's speeder flies amongst the towers of the city at breakneck speed, rapidly stopping and starting as he weaves between the skylanes, only occasionally taking a moment to honk the horn at other vehicles in his path. "You need a ride again? Just call Habib!" The man tells Ceph, handing a card back over his shoulder. It reads: Habib Sabani Transportation City Tour Guide Problem Solver Besides the text is a picture of Habib grinning broadly, while juggling what looks like a thermal detonator. He contact details are listed on the reverse side. Like many modern cities, the lower levels of Salis D'aar  have a rather different aesthetic to the upper city. Gone is the shining silver and glass, replaced instead by rust and grime. The homeless huddle under what cover is to be found near the edges of the streets, coughing and begging for spare credits. Vin can feel jealous eyes on him as he walks amongst them. Further up the street, Vin notices a black van marked BMC in bold white letters pull up in the middle of the road. The surrounding beggars begin to scatter and a number of men in black body armour and armed with stunners leap out of the sides of the vehicle. The men begin rounding up whoever they can catch and forcing them inside the van.

"Well I'm not walking all the way out there, shall we get a hovercar to drive us?" Drael begins looking for a place to hail a ride from "I'm fairly sure this guy was on the level but I guess it won't hurt for us to be cautious out in the middle of nowhere, a pretty boy like me might need a tough jedi to watch his back." Drael smiles over at Lebenha, as they walk.

Looking onward, Vin begins to understand. 'Population control.  Sequester of undesirables.  Not unheard of.  But best to avoid any potential entanglements.'   He quickly and quietly attempts to follow the transient's lead and get out of the area.  He turns about, and begins to backtrack, 'At least I hope its backtracking.'

"You honour us with your card, friend Habib," Nils says solemnly, taking it from his hand and examining it. He reads the contact details carefully, then flips it over to the picture of Habib's grinning face and nods seriously as though the grenade juggling were the precise activity he'd expected to see depicted. This taxi driver was clearly a man worthy of Nils' admiration. "In fact, we did have a Problem we needed Solving. One of the crewmembers of our ship - the Venom Claw - got hassled by some military types on our way in because they didn't have any ID. Do you know if there's anywhere here they could get something they'd find acceptable next time?"

Vin ducks down an alley in an effort to avoid the BMC van, and almost bumps headlong into a Devaronian in a long leather coat. "Hey, hey, watch where you're going!" The alien complains, dusting himself off. "Sure, sure," Habib tells Nils, waving a hand over his shoulder as he looks in the rear view mirror. "Is no problem! Habib can hook you up. My cousin Jeremy (we call him Jerome) he get you any ID you like! You want to go bank, or we go visit Jerome? You got cash, yes? Quality work costs big credits!"

"Yes, the bank, we can visit Jerome later. First, we need to... make a withdrawal," says Nils with a wink.

"Guess you are right about having to take a fast leave off the planet. I am more worried about the ones they crossed that for themselves..." admits Lebenha to Drael as they exit Bolo's shop. "We certanly can use a transportation. A repulsor taxi maybe? " she asks looking around in case she happens to see one.  "Don't worry about that. I am sure that a pretty boy like you has no problem of getting out of any trouble we could walk into. That smile of yours could stop a Rancor... " she says obiously making fun of him while petting the little tailring she has perched on her shoulders. This is the very first time since they boarded his ship that Drael sees Lebenha more relaxed and it was her first joke.

The repulsors on Habib's taxi whine as it draws to a halt outside the BNB branch that the coordinates in Ceph's message indicate. "You kids have fun!" Habib calls as they file out. "Remember, if there anything you need, just call Habib!" The bank itself seems to be a fairly standard location, with a transparisteel front and a counter inside. It's not particularly busy, given the modern age of holobanking. It doesn't take Drael and Lebenha long to make their way back up to the taxi rank outside the spaceport. The driver of this taxi is a young, rail thin Spindian man, with a string of colourful plastic flowers hanging from his rear-view mirror. "Hello, hello, where can I be taking you?"

"You have my word, we shall," replies Nils reverentially. As the taxi erratically zooms off, he looks at their surroundings, just in case there were any obvous references to the number '78'. Seeing nothing, he gestures Ceph to the doorway. "I suppose we should just go in? Or do you think we should case the joint first? Maybe we should pretend we don't know each other, so if you get in trouble I can go warn the others."

"Good idea, I will stay close and look out for any suspicious characters." Sovia takes a couple of steps back and tries to muster all of her old Jedi training in not drawing attention to herself. A real challenge considering her towering form and impressive build.

"Hello, my friend. We need to get to Greuter's Components, can you get us there please." Drael asks through the window, before opening the passenger door and inviting Leb to enter first, "After you, my lady." He says winking as he does so.

"Get out of here.  The BMC are coming.  They're snatching people on the streets."  Vin tries to fake more of a panic than he's truly in, and dusts himself off.  As he stands he watches the Dev for any quick moves and prepares to move past.

"Yeah, yeah," the Devaronian snarks, in a flash a blaster pistol is in his hand. "You think you can just slip past me, off-worlder? You came to the wrong neighbourhood, mother fucker! Gimme all your creds!"

"Well that depends" Vin replies noticing the draw a few moments late.  He eyes the blaster pistol in the Devaronian's hands.  The thug's aim is stead as he stares down the outlander. "Well?" It asks.  Vin takes a shallow breath, and then rolls his shoulder into a charge against the looming alien; a blaster bolt flashes past Vin missing him by inches.  'This isn't gonna end well.  I've got to get that blaster away from him.'   Vin's charge comes up short as the Dev take a step out of his range and retaliates by bring his horned head down in an attempt to gore Vin.  'Shit.'   Running on trained instinct, Vin reacts to the strike by bringing his elbow up and into the face of the red alien.  The sound of cracking cartilage and the spray of crimson from the creature's nose brought back old memories.  The Dev turned and ran, but Vin kicked his feet out from under him and the assailant landed.  It had been over a year since he'd been in an actual fight, and even it wasn't life and death.  'This could be my death.'  The realization brought a cold determination over him.  Vin lunged over him and grabbed the blaster from the Devaronian's grip. The tables turned, the Dev cowers and raises it hand pleading for his life.  But Vincent wasn't on Bakura anymore.  A loud explosion shakes the ground around them.  Dust and smoke fill the air.  The acrid stench of prolonged blaster fire makes Vin suppress a cough, but its not his cough he hears in the ringing.  On the ground before him lay his partner, Deco.  The blue skinned soldier had an unpronounceable name, but an unbreakable spirit.  He laid in a heap on the ground, clutching his insides.  Shrapnel and rock tear at his skin, and his coughing continues.  The empty combat stim lay on the ground next to him.  Deco was in a lot less pain, but they're was no way to close his wounds without emergency micro surgery.  Vin's mind mentally searched for the medic dead about a quarter mile away.  "You'll be fine, Deco.  We're almost out of this."   They were crouched behind an overturned republic walker.  Discarded armor and weapons were haphazardly strewn across the ground.  Vin desperately searched for a Republic medical kit.  "Stay here."   Deco laughed and coughed in pain. Deco's thick accent was distorted by pain and lack of breath, "Finish it, Vin.  I'm ... done in.  Take the... intel... and get... back... to command."   Vin looked the Chiss over one more time, pulling at his survival training - grasping toward any straw to save this man's life.  They had served together for over a year - a lifetime in war.  Seeing him hesitate, the Chiss's blaster came off his holster and barrel pointed at Vin. "Do it."   For a moment, the fire returned his eyes and that challenge in his voice was unmolested by injury.   "Sorry," Vin apologized.  He raised his sidearm and leveled the open sight at Deco's temple and pulled the trigger.   The sound of blaster fire broke the spell.  In front of him, the body of a different alien lay sprawled across the ground. The bodies of the republic troopers had vanished. The fresh smoking crater of a blaster impact slightly over his left temple.  The Devaronian was dead.  Satisfaction crept over him.  Vin even muttered to himself, "You try to warn someone and this is what you get."   The frustration off his lips for mere moments before the reality dawned on him. 'The BMC' he thought as he realized the sound of blaster fire would draw their attention.  Not even considering to rummage through his pocket, Vin's leftover adrenaline propelled his body into a mad dash down the alley ways.  He left the unnamed corpse abandoned in the road.

Ceph waves as Habib peels off then turns to the mundane building with a with a deep "Hmmmmm." He taps his chin with one finger for a moment before turning to the others. "Nils, I'm gonna pretend you didn't just admit that you'd immediately abandon me if things go south. Sovia, any chance... I don't know... does the force have anything to say about the number 78? I'm kinda feelin like I should just go in there and ask if there's an account or deposit box for me, maybe Mr. Axos put it in my name."