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| - +------------------------------------------------------------[ SPACE READOUT ] | Location: Outskirts of the Bothan System, Coreside(#599Rntu) | | A crossroads among the stars whose only demarkation is a lonely Republic | | customs spaceport, currently unmanned. Hyperlanes proceed to places | | nearer and further from the Republic core; there is little here to dispel | | the aching loneliness that many sentients feel at the mid-points of their | | interstellar travels. The grey nexus of durasteel and transparasteel that | | is the modest customs-port only seems to emphasize this existential | | dilemma. | | Ships: Nova(#15204TOn) [KAS] | Felicia leans back into her chair, watching as the Bothan pilots bring the shuttle to the outskirts of the Bothan system. "We can speak freely now," she turns to the others. "Ms Diak, I've invited you here to see if we can find out where von Mourn's base is. Is it possible for you to work from this part of space?" "I need a bank terminal," says Cienna, frowning. "I mean, I've got hard copies of the data on Mourn and the Rim Rebellion, but there's no way for me to plug in out here." She shrugs. "So, depends what you want me to do." "Nar Shaddaa may be a good place to start, then," Felicia muses, softly. "Unless... Kirian, is there someone in your family who can pull a few threads? I'm sure they don't like pirates, either." The young Sangdrake politely listens - though the control board with its flashy lights... eyes back on Dissek. No, Khan. "Sorry? Hmm. I know Dekre gets his favorite booze from contraband. He is a mercenary lawyer. He will defend you for the right price. I bet his files are worth breaking into.", the boy, says. Felicia nods at Kirian and turns to murmur at the Bothan pilot. "Take us to Nar Shaddaa, please, the smuggler's moon. Ms Diak works better from there." "Lawyers tend to give me problems," says Cienna uneasily. "Half of it's because they're all fraudulent bastards, of course, the rest is they know the tricks." She shrugs again, looking down at her feet. "Anyway. Pretty sure the Rim Rebellion's on a place called .' +------------------------------------------------------------[ SPACE READOUT ] | Location: Orbit of Nar Shaddaa(#702Rntu) | | Grey and bleak as the lives who live upon it, the moon Nar Shaddaa is | | wholly covered by the scars of haphazard settlement, rampant mineral | | extraction, and industrialization. Myriad circular craters dot the | | surface of the moon, though the perimeters of many are now vague due | | either to their great age, or the gradual reforming of the body's surface | | by development. | Hovering above Nar Shaddaa the ship has entered a slow orbit. Felicia studies Cienna Diak carefully. "I never heard about such a place. Kirian?" "I have been here before.", Kirian confirms. "Rena always take me places. I met a Hutt, once." Kirian says, "And the king of the Wookies.", he adds." "Turned up twice in their records. A cargo bay and a lounge, but it was definitely property." Cienna sighs and looks up at the Smuggler's Moon. "I mean, it could be anywhere.' "Would you offer a bounty for someone who could tell us where that system is?" Felicia tilts her head to the side at Cienna. "I would pay the bounty, of course, but we would not be very covert." Kirian studies Khan's traits for a moment. "When I look for something in a place I don't know, I ask for directions.", he remarks candidly. "You tell 'em you're looking for it, they'll find somewhere else. Even if it's just me." Cienna closes her eyes and massages her temples. "So you want . . . hm. Explorers don't come cheap. I mean, if I had a secret world I could do a lot with it--we're looking at fifty, a hundred thousand. You need to make sure they don't know you're looking for it but also make sure they tell you where it is." There's a pause, and she adds, in a low voice, averting her gaze to stare at some feature on the ceiling of the shuttle, "I don't know how to do that." "The Trade Federation may have someone in its employ who knows how to," Felicia smiles at the other woman. "But you did well in finding that name. Then... we can leave the system now, I suppose." She looks at Kirian with a friendly, but bemused, expression. Then she gestures for the pilot to leave. "We are looking for something hidden in plain sight.", Kirian offers, this time watching Diak. "Not all the smugglers can afford cloaking systems. They hide otherwise. The NavSats has to be toyed with." SPACE: Nova proceeds to Deep Space near the Y'toub Sector. +------------------------------------------------------------[ SPACE READOUT ] | Location: Deep Space near the Y'toub Sector(#529Rntu) | | Blackness, many stars. Out here on the Rim, the largest thing visible | | is the huge, glowing orb of the galaxy's Core, thinning to a misty disc | | on the edges, and, near you, just flecks of light here and there. And | | beyond, truly deep space, the huge emptiness between galaxies ... There | | are several major worlds in the Y'toub Sector, most of them dominated by | | the Hutts, which form the so-called Shaddaa Cross: Nar Shaddaa and Nal | | Hutta in the center, Gamor to to Ardak, Camodai to Echasmos for the | | arms. All are poor, crime-ridden planets; Nar Shaddaa alone is truly | | wealthy. | SPACE: Death's Head lurks near the system jump point, a pair of cruisers holding position near it while two squadrons of shuttles fly patrol around the small flotilla. "I don't suppose it's any comfort that I've seen all of those ships before," says Cienna, sinking into the back of her chair with a look of dread. Then she blinks a few times. "Okay, give me the con. I'm our only shot out of here. Is there any cargo?" "You could always ask them for directions.", Kirian muses, flicking a switch and making the Death's Head appear on the main holo, along with its escort. "I have see them as well. They are pirates." "I was going to do something very much like that." Cienna pulls out a strange datapad from her purse and begins entering data, rapidly but with a focused, calm expression. SPACE: Nova flies outward from Nar Shaddaa, following the lane and the steady stream of ships to and from the smuggler's moon. Light glitters in the shuttle's sleek hull. SPACE: Death's Head moves towards the small shuttle, its escorts trailing behind and the shuttle squadrons swooping forward. The mothership's comsys crackles to life. Felicia's teeth bite gently into her lower lip. The Viceroy regards the viewscreen with apprehension. "Let Ms Diak fly," she rises and lets a hand rest on the Bothan's shoulder. He nods and pushes a few buttons, sending control to the co-pilot's seat. "We carry no cargo, no." COMSYS: (all channels) From Death's Head, A calm, deep, rough male voice says, "Attention shuttle Nova. Cut your engines and prepare to be boarded." "Are we dead if I try to navigate?" Cienna frowns, and thumbs the com as she takes control of the shuttle. SPACE: Nova begins to slow. "I think there's some sort of mistake," says the voice at the conn--young, female, a little bit shrill. "Tell them you are carrying me.", Kirian offers, though the thought of it doesn't reassure the boy a little bit. "Kirian Sangdrake, the Fifth. I am your cargo." SPACE: Death's Head is flying at combat speed towards the shuttle Nova. A pair of cruisers, the Adulation and Adjudication, following more slowly. Leading the large mothership is a pair of shuttle squadrons. COMSYS: (all channels) From Death's Head, A calm, deep, rough male voice says, "If this is a mistake it is simple enough to solve. Dock with the Death's Head now and prepare for inspection. Attempting to flee is not advisable." "I will not!" Felicia's head whips at Kirian. "You keep your mouth shut about your heritage, and we may just get out of here, safely, and without having to pay insane amounts of cash." COMSYS: (all channels) Felicia Khan says, "This is the captain of the Nova speaking. We will dock with you if you insist, Death's Head, but this is a Kappa shuttle; we carry no cargo of any value." "Can we run from them in this, Ms. Diak?" Felicia's brow raises at the other woman. SPACE: Death's Head and its escorts form up, the cavernous hangar bay of the large mothership opening to allow the Nova to dock. The shuttle squadrons form up to escort the Kappa. "A Kappa? They'll blow us out of the sky if we even think about it." Cienna shrugs. "Give me fake names for both of you. We might get out of this if he has no idea who you are." Kirian closes his eyes for a short moment. "This could be an opportunity in disguise.", he mutters. "There will be negociations, when they see we have no cargo." SPACE: Nova breaks away from the hyperlanes and follows the route towards the Death's Head, moving with the shuttle squadrons until it is inside the cargo-bay. "Lea Lysscol," Felicia says softly at Cienna. "Ms Diak, would you lead the negotiations, please? I'm hoping whoever is in there doesn't recognize me.” “Oh, and Kirian…"She goes over and carefully lifts a panel away from the wall. There is a cramped room inside. "Please hide." SPACE: Nova enters Death's Head's docking bay. Docking Chamber Opening onto a vast and cavernous deck, the massive repulsorlifts in the aft stand ready to shuttle large numbers of troops or equipment to or from the staging bay, for boarding of smaller craft of fast debarking planet-side. This chamber is enormous. At least thirty meters from grey polished deck to pale blue paneled roof, the chamber is slightly domed, and a great white light has been set at its pinnacle. Directly below this light, a huge circular whole has been cut into the deck, large enough at need that a small corvette could pass within. This whole looks out on of the ship, and all that stands between this deck and depressurization is a magnetic shield, apparent by the glowing around the circumference of the hole. Radiating from the light overhead like the spokes of a wheel, durasteel fighter racks keep smaller craft up and out of the way, ready to release them into a quick descent through the hole at a moment's notice. For larger ships, landing spaces have been marked out across the deck with white paint. A black-clad woman emerges from the shuttle. She is standing at her full height, though this is considerably less than impressive given that it's considerably shorter than average. She has her arms folded. "Look, I just got this ship," she says, her tone petulant. Standing amongst a group of whiphids is a man clad similarly in all black with his hands folded behind his back. A group of hardened looking rim mercenaries stand around the Nova while a large unit of uniformed marines train on the large hangar deck. A small group quartermasters are going over crates of various munitions. As the trio and their guards emerge from the shuttle, von Mourn smiles coldly and says, "My advise would be to be more careful where and with whom you fly it in future then." Another woman joins the black-clad pilot on the deck of the so-called Death's Head. Felicia is somewhat obscured behind a few tall Bothans; five of them, all in all. They look like guards - but their weapons have been, perhaps wisely, discarded inside the shuttle. "With whom?" Cienna scowls. "My assistants? Is there a problem with young Nial here?" She nods towards Kirian. "He makes a fine lookout. I'm keeping him with me, if it's all the same to you." The small human in the featureless mask and business suit watches silently. He stays a few paces remove behind the others. When Cienna mentions him, he nods his head politely at von Mourn. "Please, lets get past the bluster." von Mourn says in a weary voice. "You are carrying Trade Federation...President is the title I believe....Felicia Khan. She and I have business we should discuss. These beings will be searching you and your ship and then you will be moved to the prison deck for interrogation. After that you will be released." He makes a curt nod to the mercs and they begin tightening the ring around the shuttle. One of the Bothans, a grey-furred being, growls as viciously as any Wookiee when von Mourn makes his announcement. Felicia rests a calming hand on his arm. "Damn you, von Mourn," she says, softly. A nod is given at her guard before she looks back at Kirian, concerned. "He's just a child. Let my pilot fly him back to Nar Shaddaa." "No, I'm really not," says Cienna, rolling her eyes. "This is Lea Lysscol, who is running this little ship heist we just finished. As I said--recently acquired. I have no idea where Felicia Khan is. Last I heard she was laid up with some sort of nasty plague." "I will cooperate.", Kirian voices calmly, locking gaze with the closest mercenary. "Though touching me could prove to be a mistake. I have nothing to offer, nor to lose. Make your life easier, Sir. It is wiser to let me go." He stands motionless, awaiting. "If you did not want the child involved you should not have made him be involved." the rebel Baron replies coolly, his face that isn't cybernetic as devoid as its metal part. He regards Cienna and then Kirian with his mismatched eyes as the mercs step closer. The mercenary's sergeant gestures for the group to raise their hands, the rest of the unit pointing weapons menacingly. Lea-Felicia sighs and raises her hands to shoulder height, not that her sleek business outfit could conceal any blasters. In the vicinity the handful of Bothans do the same, reluctantly, and one of them only after a pointed stare from the blonde woman. "See, having the kid post lookout isn't 'getting him involved.' It's when some arrogant pirate decides he thinks he knows who's on a ship that you start making trouble." Cienna smirks and raises her hands to about chest level. Kirian holds onto his sword. "I agree to be disarmed but not robbed. Can we agree that one of the Bothans carry my blade to the Nova?", he asks Von Mourn. "You already have us as guarantee nothing will be tried." von Mourn watches in silence as his soldiers work. The sergeant, a grizzled human with several scars criss-crossing his face, growls at the group. "Step away from the shuttle and keep yer hands up. No sudden moves." One merc for each of the shuttle's group slings their rifles over their shoulders and prepares to search them. "Y'really think yer in a place t'bargain boy?" the sergeant asks Kirian. The mercs near Cienna tighten their grips on their rifles and growl at the woman. "Hey there," says Cienna to the mercenaries. "There a problem, or are you just incapable of articulating in Basic?" She smiles and shifts into a posture probably best described as insolent. Reluctantly, the boy hands his weapon over. "I want it back when we are done, Sergeant." His hands now emptied, he raises his arms above his head. "I simply do not understand why you should fear two women and a boy.". He snickers. The mercs shoot Cienna a menacing look but are experienced enough not to be easily baited. The sergeant eyes the group and growls, "I won't tell yeh again. Step away from yer shuttle and keep yer hands up." von Mourn watches the preceding with his emotionless gaze. Some of the marines wander over to watch the action from a short distance away, looks of amusement and interest on their faces. The Bothans are already unarmed and they step away from the shuttle as ordered. Felicia sighs and slips out a stun-gun the size of a walnut, dropping it to the floor. Cienna glances at the shuttle thoughtfully. "Why, is it dangerous? Oh, and it's pronounced 'you.' I won't tell /you/ again." She shakes her head and, about as slowly as it is humanly possible to move, steps away from the shuttle. "So very amateur. Whatever happened to manhandling?" "Wow. Such energy! Do not soil your panties on my account, Sarge.", Kirian chides. "Makes you look bad in front of your men." He complies, though, following Cienna calmly. "Will you two keep quiet." Felicia flicks a look at Kirian and Cienna, looking frightened. "I'd prefer it if you didn't taunt the people with overwhelming firepower, thank you." von Mourn looks over at the marines. "If you gentlemen are done gawking perhaps you might secure that ship?" he asks, his tone polite but with an undercurrent of menace. The soldiers snap to attention and hurry forward to obey. Meanwhile the mercs escort the small group a short distance from the shuttle and one for each person steps forward to attempt to pat them down while another stands close by with a weapon pointed. The sergeant gets a look of overwhelming anger on his face and takes a step forward with his rifle-butt raised when a small cough from Graf brings him up short of attempting to do anything to Crienna or Kirian. "No, see, it keeps them distracted, so we can make a cunning escape, seal the guards in their own detention level, and steal the ship," says Cienna. "It's not taunting, it's strategy. A few more minutes and we have them." She shrugs her shoulders, making her more-or-less raised hands do an awkward little movement in the air. Kirian watches his weapons being taken away without making a fuss. "It feels just like I am back in school. They used to take my toys away and keep me after class.", he remarks. "Though I once caught the principal playing with my whoopee cushion." For Cienna's part, though she appears to be carrying an assortment of tools, they are just that: tools, with a comlink thrown in for good measure. Ranging from tools fit for working on starships to more finicky devices suitable for electronics. All of them stashed wherever there's room--it's possible they were intended to be concealed, but if so, they're concealed rather poorly. "Get your fingers off me." This time it's Felicia who sounds annoyed, soft voice lashing out. The woman reaches out to slap the hands of the marine who steps forward to frisk her. "How much do you think I can hide in this outfit?" She indicates her skirt and shirt, setting a briefcase onto the ground. She opens it - if allowed - and shows the contents for everyone to see. The mercs pat down the group with efficiency and perhaps a little more roughness than is necessary. When Felicia brushes off her searcher, von Mourn just smiles softly and shrugs. "As you say. Now, if you would be so kind, let me show you to your rooms for your stay aboard my humble vessel." The guards form an escort around the group and lead them after Graf as he and his whiphids head for the turbolift. "Child abuse.", Kirian remarks at his own soldier. "We are getting close friends... what do you do, after work?" Cienna coughs loudly at this point, sending a little spray of saliva at the guard that is patting her down. "Hey now, that's a little more than I'm comfortable with on a first date," she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Felicia follows the Rim Rebellion leader, moving self-confidently on her high heels as if she were headed to another trade conference. Just one concerned look is flicked at her Bothan guard. “Do as they say," she urges. "Please." Graf von Mourn ignores the interplay between the mercenaries and the group, seeming nothing if not bored. Several mercs, however, are clutching their blasters with trembling rage and are glaring at Cienna and Kirian as they escort them onto the turbolift which whisks the guards, captives, and von Mourn up to the prison deck. Resistance:Prison Deck Here, the large repulsorlifts enter a sealed deck, and heavy blast doors secure the open shafts when they are not in use. This deck opens onto a broad foyer. A pair of thick blast shields stand shoulder-high some ten meters from the repulsorlifts, and slim blaster shafts peer out at all who enter this deck. Between these shields stands a slightly elevated walkway, marked out along the deck with yellow stripes, slashed diagonally with black. Proceeding from the aft, this walkway halts at a check station, where blast gates watched by a pair of guard stations with blast-proof transparisteel guard the way to the fore of this deck, and the dark narrow holding cells beyond. Above these blast gates, a profusion of holo-cameras and scanning equipment peer ominously down on all who enter the foyer of this deck. Once the group step out of the turbolift Felicia moves a little faster to draw level with Mourn. "And for how long do you intend to keep us here?" She tilts her head to the side, watching the other. Von Mourn looks down at the woman, regarding her with his blood red eye, von Mourn answers Felicia "Not long, I assure you Madam President. If you are cooperative that is. I will require you provide me with several pieces of information and establish certain agreements with me. After that, you will be free to go." He leads the group to a set of cells that have been opened waiting for them. "I take it you admit to your identity then?" "That is one pointless question, /Lea/.", Kirian mutters for himself, for once disagreeing with Doctor Khan. He glances sideways at Cienna, though his expression remains unseen. Cienna sighs and mutters something under her breath, shaking her head and folding her arms across her chest. Cienna Diak whispers to Kirian. "I don't admit to any such thing," the woman shakes her head at von Mourn. "Cienna asked me to join this heist, my name is Lea." Felicia's green eyes narrow at the Rebellion leader, annoyed. "And isn't it just typical of you men to think one blonde woman looks just like the other! Next you'll think Cienna here is Senator Elinor." "I think you lack understanding of the exact situation you are in, President Khan." von Mourn says with a sigh. "I will get what I want from you. If you value the lives and health of your comrades, you will give it to me." He steps away from Felicia and nods for the guards to herd the group into a cell together, except for Cienna who Graf gestures for his guards to keep separate. "I will make it clearer for you." Kirian simply complies. The time for witty puns is past. A furious expression passes Felicia's face when they are herded inside the cell, but the woman looks down and hides her face with her long hair. When she looks up again it's from inside of the cell, looking much more composed. "I like and respect Cienna, but I can't pretend to be something I'm not," she says at von Mourn. Her voice is gentle, but her cheeks are coloured red with anger. "Why don't you send a message to the real person and let us go?" The door to the small cell seals behind the group as they are forced into its cramped confines. von Mourn and his whiphids follow Cienna into her private cell and the mercenaries line the hallway outside, weapons held with casual expertise though several continue to shoot angry glances at the cells the group are being held in. One of the whiphids sets up a small metal folding table with a shiny surface while another brings a small box inside of the cell and opens it, revealing several exotic and menacing implements. "You may not know this, but I was once quite important on Kuat. During my time there I studied much of their culture. You know, there is a small group on Kuat who have turned torture into an art form. I fear I have not yet mastered it, perhaps you can help me." the Baron tells Cienna as he selects one pronged instrument from the case and his guards move towards Cienna with the obvious intent of restraining her. Felicia steps away from the cell door and leans her shoulder against the wall. She closes her eyes, and her head tilts to the side, resting against the wall, too. A deep furrow has dug between her brows. Kirian, on the other hand, finds an empty spot to sit down in lotus position. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. "The solution is near us.", he softly says, his voice suggesting his own drifting away.. Cienna smiles and spits at Mourn. "I don't help people with their after school projects. Maybe you should ask the teacher?" If she is particularly menaced at the pending torture she shows no real sign of it. "You aren't very good at this whole crime lord thing, are you?" After a long session doing not nice things, Graf steps away from Cienna and puts away his tools while a pair of guards grab Cienna and drag her to Kirian and Felicia's cell where the doors are open and she is thrown inside. von Mourn takes off his bloody gloves and drops them on the floor as he leaves. "Make sure they get fed." he instructs one of the guards as he heads for the turbolift. Cienna does one of those wonderful collapsing things inside, then smiles somewhere just this side of delirious. "He didn't even ask me any questions," she observes, backing into a corner and assuming a defensive 'don't touch me' sort of posture. "Give us some bandages at least," Felicia calls out after the leaving von Mourn. Her dusty-green eyes are hateful at the man. "And some water, she'll need water." Kirian opens his eyes as the cell door opens and Cienna falls like a broken bird. He slowly gets to his feet. "I believe I am next.", he says, nodding. Hopefully, his mask keeps his feelings a secret. For now von Mourn pauses at the liftdoors. Looking back over his shoulder as the cell door closes he orders a guard. "Get them water, but no bandages. They have cloth enough in there. Tell them they can have bandages when they decide to admit that one of them is Felicia Khan." With that the rebel leaves, his guards remaining at attention. Once von Mourn has left Felicia turns to the bruised Cienna and does what she can to tend to the woman. "I'm sorry," she mutters, quietly. JUDGE: Your judgement grievously wounds Cienna Diak. Reason: 'von Mourn tortured her'. "Breathe deeply, Cienna.", Kirian suggests, watching from afar. "We will find a way out, Lea. The future is always moving." He turns to face one of the walls, arms crossing. Cienna waves an arm weakly to fend off the doctor. "'s fine, you don't need to do that." She pulls her knees to her chest and stares at the door. "He's going to regret that a lot," she says quietly. The perpetual smile is still there, but she looks frightened for the first time, before she closes her eyes. Felicia refuses to be fended away, gently pushing Cienna's arms aside. "Don't be silly," she says, softly. "I can stop the bleeding, at least. We just need water and the bandages that he didn't get us..." She turns a pointed look at Kirian's trousers." Bandages..." The boy nods. He kneels and soon pudgy fingers are gripping hard at the cuffs of his pricy tailored pant. Rrrrrrip. Rrrrrrip. He tears the sleeves up to mid-tighs. The makeshift bandages land nearby Cienna. "Cleaned this morning.", Kirian reassured. Cienna shrugs. "Your funeral," she mutters quietly, hugging her knees now and staring at the floor straight ahead. "I'm fine, I heal pretty quick sometimes. You want I should try the door?" "Yes try the door," Felicia nods at the injured woman. She shoots a sideways look at a grey-furred Bothan. "You know what to do, right?" The sentient nods. "If he comes back in here, I'll volunteer before the boy," he rumbles, placing a protective hand on Kirian's shoulder. "Whatever makes you feel useful.", Kirian voices softly for Cienna, nonchalant. "You are doing just fine." He turns to face Felicia. "This pirate knows your identity. It is your true name he is after. I can feel fear growing inside you that you could be... unveiled.", he states, speaking with resolve. "If we are to help you protect your secret, maybe you should consider... shrugging that fear off. It puts me and Cienna in danger." Kirian looks up the Bothan. "Thank you, Sir." "He does know, doesn't he," Felicia sighs. "He's playing games with us. We can stall time, but at a price." Her skilful hands close another of Cienna's injuries. "Move carefully," she admonishes. "Or the injuries will break open." One of the Bothans move to carefully assist the dark-haired woman to the cell door. "Don't think they're taking volunteers." Cienna massages her temples. "Not that one. He wants the doctor to cave. Wants to do as much hurt as possible. Can't risk killing someone because that'll mean she never talks." She sighs and looks the door over. "I feel like the best thing we can do is rig up a comlink. Cannibalize parts from the door mechanism, maybe use the door's electricity to boost its power. You have any friends, Doc?" "I have friends.", Kirian offers. "We need Rena Sarrabi. Or Graham. Safer way is to reach her through Liam L'hnnar. We cannot risk warning the pirates of Rena's coming." "Oh yes," Felicia nods at Cienna. "von Mourn will live to regret this day." The woman's voice is, as usual, soft; but there is a trace of anger there that cannot be denied. "And if he goes for Kirian, I'm admitting it." She raises a hand at Kirian, palm out, as if to stop any objections. "Sorry, but I am." "Really? I'd rather he just died," says Cienna coldly. "Come on, anything you can do to help? I really doubt the door's got all the parts we need and I don't think opening it's going to do anything but get us shot." Kirian snorts at Cienna. "She digs me.", he says to Khan in loud fake-whispers. "I'm afraid I have nothing," she says at Cienna. "Just the heels of my shoes, if you need metal. And my glasses if you need, well, glass. Nothing electronic whatsoever. And if we get out, there are those guards." "Take some of my cyber off.", Kirian offers. "You know better than anyone what components could help, Doc." "Yes, but what will that help?" Felicia looks reluctant to remove Kirian's artificial aids. "Once we're outside the cell there is an army of fifty well trained marines." "With or without my prostethics, there will be an army of fifty well trained marines out there.", Kirian counters. "Outside help is way more realistic." Cienna presses her fingers against her temples for a moment, closing her eyes and inhaling with a faint hiss. "If we have the stuff, I can kitbash a comlink. If we boost the signal power we might be able to get it to the range where someone will hear, if we're still in Nar Shaddaa." "Well... I guess it's out only option." The doctor's forehead wrinkles at Cienna. "Alright, I'll try." Felicia relents and nods at the youth. "Sit down then. No better, lie down. And don't move! One of you, please help steady him." One of the Bothans moves to help. Kirian reaches down where shown to. He removes his mask. He smiles at the room. "I have confidence in you, Doctor.", he says softly. Felicia sets to work, tongue resting at the corner of her mouth. She skilfully nudges at the prostethics, removing one little component after the other. From time to time she casts a silent look at Cienna, raising a brow as if asking which component might work best. [OOC] Skywalker says, "Jesus, you lucky bastards. You passed the roll." The ship intercom unit blares: "Deck 4 has been unsealed!" Graf von Mourn arrives from Death's Head: Bridge(#3951TOn) The turbolift doors part to admit von Mourn and a togruta being guarded by a pair of marines. The marines transfer the prisoner to the guard of some mercs and then return to the hangar. The group move down the corridor to one of the cells whose door opens to reveal the group of Cienna, Felicia, Kirian, and five bothans. Felicia looks up when the cell door opens, one hand brushing her long hair to the side. The other hand is still buried inside Kirian's face, but she swiftly removes it and helps the kid put on the mask. For whatever reason still grinning, the Togruta shuffles along after von Mourn and his legions. Stun cuffs are removed from his wrists as he's transferred into the cell; he rubs his arms and squeezes into the enclosed space with the others. "I feel much better now...", Kirian wanly says. "The dizziness is receding." Yet, he remains there, sprawled on his back. "Viceroy, I do not think you yet understand just how serious your situation is." von Mourn purrs as he stands on the walkway staring down into the cell. "I think another lesson is due. You may choose. The boy or your bodyguards." His blood red eye stares angrily down at Felicia as he talks. "Viceroy, president, can you determine what titles you think I should have?" Felicia rises and rubs a few droplets of blood away from her hands, carefully conceled as rubbing an itch behind her back. She walks to the bars and glares at von Mourn. "Next I'll be the queen of Kessel, no doubt! But I'll be whoever you wish, even the tribal leader of Wookies, if it will make you stop torturing my friends." The Togruta pushes his way gingerly toward the back of the cell and leans his head against the wall. Closing his eyes, he winces while rubbing at a raw spot on his left calf. Scorch marks and a tear in his pant-leg suggest the shooting upstairs was the real deal. Djenner lifts two fingers in response to the masked-lad's greeting. von Mourn narrows his eyes at Felicia, his red one glittering like a ruby set in the metal of the cybernetic half of his face. "A little honesty would save your friends any suffering." he hisses sibilantly. "Now, must I choose or will you? Boy or bothans. Pick." One of his guards walks past carrying a box that would be familiar to Cienna and sets it in another empty cell. Cienna is, unfortunately, turned away for the moment, but after they have passed she turns around reluctantly, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Oh, dear, more new friends," she says in a completely flat tone. If looks could kill then von Mourn would be a smouldering pile of ashes on the floor. Felicia turns around, slowly, gaze reluctantly travelling between Kirian and the Bothans. She takes a few steps forward and bends over Cienna, whispering into her ear. Then she walks back to the cell entrance and tilts her head at the pirate. "I'm Felicia," she says, simply. "And it's Viceroy, thank you, not president. Let's go negotiate?" You whisper, "Get the comsystem working, I'll stall him and see if I can find out what system we are in" to Cienna Diak. Cienna shakes her head and murmurs something back. There is a vaguely urgent expression on her face. Cienna Diak whispers: The comsys is up. I could try to boost the signal so it's system-wide but it might break the whole thing. Is it worth it? The Togruta in the back of the cell remains where he is, eyes closed. The corners of his lids squinch tighter for a moment, but the action is hardly worth notice. His eyes flick open and he grins at the guards. "You did not have to, Doctor Khan.", Kirian assures, his tone showing dismay and disapointement. "I would have gone through that gladly. This pirate, anyway, is not ready for me." He rolls to his side, to face the far wall, hugging himself. A small but clearly triumphant smile touches von Mourn's lips at Felicia's admission. He dips his head and gestures for the Viceroy to step out of the cell. "A pleasure to formally meet, Viceroy." he says politely as he stands aside so she can emerge from her cramped confinement. "You're injured enough as it is," Felicia turns and speaks softly at Kirian. "Do not seek out more disfigurement, or even my skills cannot help you." She shakes her head at Cienna and turns to walk out of the cell, glaring at von Mourn. "I wish I could say it was a pleasure," she says sourly at the man, "but as it is you'll forgive me for skipping formalities." She brushes a hand down her garb, smoothing the crinkles out of its surface, and turns to follow the Rebellion leader. The cell door hisses shut behind Felicia as von Mourn leads her to another cell where a chair has been set beside a small table holding his box full of harmful instruments. He gestures for the Viceroy to sit on the cot while his guards watch her carefully. "Lady Viceroy, I am afraid we have started off on the wrong foot. You see, your predecessors choose to start this conflict with me. Their not soon enough demises have left you to clean up the mess." von Mourn crosses his legs and leans back in the chair, steeping his fingers in front of him. "I am a peaceful man and desire peace between us, a profitable peace." von Mourn exits the cell and gestures for his guards to take Felicia and put her with the rest of her colleagues. "Your leader has purchased your freedom." Graf coldly informs those in the cell before turning and heading for the turbo lift. He points at Felicia and says, "Get them organized and ready to go. The ship will move somewhere that I can leave you to resume your business." Kirian is still on the floor, though he moved closer to the table. He is holding a glass with both hands, secured against his chest. "The water is warm. I could use a straw, too. I will let my friends know about this establishement.", he softly complains. "I need help to get up." "And my stuff? That was my toolkit," Cienna says, voice on the verge of breaking. "There are many others like it, but that one was mine. And my comlink. I'm going to need that." Felicia looks tired and pale, but nods at von Mourn. Then she turns inside the cell and gestures for one of the Bothans to help Kirian. The sturdy alien bends down and lifts the boy up in his arms - if he allows - with effortless ease. Ms. Diak," the Viceroy says mildly at Cienna. "I appreciate how you like your toolkit, but I will buy you ten more just like it. Please don't push our luck. Ready to leave?" "Your items are waiting for you on the hangar deck. I hardly need your goods." von Mourn assures Cienna as he waits for the turbolift. When it arrives he enters and departs for the bridge. "I'm staying.", Kirian objects, when lifted from the floor. Cienna allows a small, self-satisfied smirk at this point, leaning in to Kirian to whisper something. Kirian watches Khan's reaction. "I do not need them, no. They are unuseable anyway.", he answers to Cienna. "I will need new ones." Resistance:Docking Chamber Opening onto a vast and cavernous deck, the massive repulsorlifts in the aft stand ready to shuttle large numbers of troops or equipment to or from the staging bay, for boarding of smaller craft of fast debarking planet-side. This chamber is enormous. At least thirty meters from grey polished deck to pale blue paneled roof, the chamber is slightly domed, and a great white light has been set at its pinnacle. Directly below this light, a huge circular whole has been cut into the deck, large enough at need that a small corvette could pass within. This whole looks out on of the ship, and all that stands between this deck and depressurization is a magnetic shield, apparent by the glowing around the circumference of the hole. Radiating from the light overhead like the spokes of a wheel, durasteel fighter racks keep smaller craft up and out of the way, ready to release them into a quick descent through the hole at a moment's notice. For larger ships, landing spaces have been marked out across the deck with white paint. "Let go of me.", Kirian orders the Bothan holding him. "Leave me here. With the pirates." Felicia walks into the docking chamber. One of the Bothans have actually placed a protective, furry arm around the Viceroy's shoulders. She looks comforted at this fact. The Bothan carrying Kirian looks at his employer who shakes her head.mIs he running a fever? There is no way we're leaving him here." "Make me, then.", Kirian voices abruptly. "I am staying, so you keep your end of the bargain, /Viceroy/. I did not end up here by chance. I have work to do here." Cienna gives Kirian a puzzled look, but seems to be mostly concentrating on walking without too much of a limp, arms tightly folded. The makeshift bandages around her wounds are sticky and wet with blood at this point, though the bleeding itself has probably stopped. "If you think I'm leaving a 9-year old child in a warship belonging to the Rim Rebellion's leader, then you're very wrong." Felicia looks at Kirian with a partly annoyed, partly fond, look; resulting in a very odd expression on the Viceroy. "Take him onboard the Nova." t the gangplank she turns to look at Graf von Mourn. "You kept your end of the bargain," she says, voice velvet. "So expect I'll keep mine." The rebel baron nods, his gaze fixed on the child. "Yes, I have no need for children aboard a warship." von Mourn muses turning back to regard Felicia. "I trust you will Viceroy. A trader's word must be their bond." Felicia nods at von Mourn and steps onboard, looking to Cienna with concerned eyes. Cienna gives an exaggerated smile, grabs her pile of equipment, and steps on board the Nova with just a bit of a sway to her step. Von Mourn turns his back and heads for the repulsorlift as his captives escape captivity.
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