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[SWAW] Shadowport (29)
Ladro,
After your incredible night of pleasure and domination of your new Umbaran ally, you spend the remaining time with Ahji Dar with Osira coming and going. She’s very sensitive to your needs to be alone and hesitant to overstay her welcome with you and your kitten. Ahji Dar, for her part, seems quite fond of her “pet” as she calls Osira in private. And yes, Osira is very pleased by this as well.
Osira remains in hiding until after the Far Orbit arrives at Charon’s Wall. It’s easy enough to have Hosk “hire” her onto the crew so she can report back to you on the activities of the “three crews”, the integration, and any plots like your former saboteurs. What do you tell Hosk? He does it no matter what.
After offloading the remnants of Hera’s Arms and refueling, the Far Orbit heads for the Rengali Shell. The trip takes three days in hyperspace. Once you’re in the sector’s first hyperspace waypoint, you receive communication from Captain Darkal and the Profit Margin that they have fulfilled your shopping list and await you at the shadowport of Gunbarrel Station.
still make up the majority of residents. Spacers of all species can be found here, though.
Climate: Life Support, standard gravity, dry and stale recycled air.
Weapon Restrictions: Explosive, incendiary, and armor piercing weapons are forbidden as they might compromise the hull of the station. All other weapons are legal, but any harm done to the station is heavily fined.
Description: The station is a long, hollow tube rotating on its long axis to provide gravity along the inside of the tube. Ships dock on the outside surface and enter through the hull to a grand promenade several miles long. At either end are blossom-like structures full of algae to produce oxygen. The port does not produce anything, and is more of a way-station. It is a good place to resupply, swap cargos with another ship, repair your ship, or find new crew members. The station has security forces that act on the central rule of “protect the station at all costs.” The security captain on current shift is as close to a governmental leader as the station has.
Because of the prohibition on heavy weapons, it is rare to find any for sale at the Gunbarrel, but a wide variety of smaller arms, melee weapons, and pharmaceuticals are generally available. Lodging is available, but spartan – not much more than coffin-hotels and one-hour love hotels.
Where is it that you meet with your brother? Did you meet him at the gangplank off the ship or invite him to your quarters for a report (and delivery)?
”Ladro!” he says with cheer as he throws arms around you. ”This place is smelly, but there are a few hidden delights. Cemma was able to get all the items on your list.” He purses his lips, then asks, ”Can we talk about something, brother?”
After your incredible night of pleasure and domination of your new Umbaran ally, you spend the remaining time with Ahji Dar with Osira coming and going. She’s very sensitive to your needs to be alone and hesitant to overstay her welcome with you and your kitten. Ahji Dar, for her part, seems quite fond of her “pet” as she calls Osira in private. And yes, Osira is very pleased by this as well.
Osira remains in hiding until after the Far Orbit arrives at Charon’s Wall. It’s easy enough to have Hosk “hire” her onto the crew so she can report back to you on the activities of the “three crews”, the integration, and any plots like your former saboteurs. What do you tell Hosk? He does it no matter what.
After offloading the remnants of Hera’s Arms and refueling, the Far Orbit heads for the Rengali Shell. The trip takes three days in hyperspace. Once you’re in the sector’s first hyperspace waypoint, you receive communication from Captain Darkal and the Profit Margin that they have fulfilled your shopping list and await you at the shadowport of Gunbarrel Station.
Gunbarrel Station
As a space station, there aren’t any true natives. Gunbarrel Station was built by Duros, and theystill make up the majority of residents. Spacers of all species can be found here, though.
Climate: Life Support, standard gravity, dry and stale recycled air.
Weapon Restrictions: Explosive, incendiary, and armor piercing weapons are forbidden as they might compromise the hull of the station. All other weapons are legal, but any harm done to the station is heavily fined.
Description: The station is a long, hollow tube rotating on its long axis to provide gravity along the inside of the tube. Ships dock on the outside surface and enter through the hull to a grand promenade several miles long. At either end are blossom-like structures full of algae to produce oxygen. The port does not produce anything, and is more of a way-station. It is a good place to resupply, swap cargos with another ship, repair your ship, or find new crew members. The station has security forces that act on the central rule of “protect the station at all costs.” The security captain on current shift is as close to a governmental leader as the station has.
Because of the prohibition on heavy weapons, it is rare to find any for sale at the Gunbarrel, but a wide variety of smaller arms, melee weapons, and pharmaceuticals are generally available. Lodging is available, but spartan – not much more than coffin-hotels and one-hour love hotels.
Where is it that you meet with your brother? Did you meet him at the gangplank off the ship or invite him to your quarters for a report (and delivery)?
”Ladro!” he says with cheer as he throws arms around you. ”This place is smelly, but there are a few hidden delights. Cemma was able to get all the items on your list.” He purses his lips, then asks, ”Can we talk about something, brother?”
Comments
In confidence, I tell Hosk the truth, up to a point. Not about the sex or the "pet" part of things, but that Osira has valuable skills that could be of use to me both aboard the Far Orbit and on "away missions," and that I want her hired on in some civilian capacity, perhaps an administrative role that will let her move about freely and give her a reasonable excuse to be in contact with me.
I Meet Darkal at the gangplank, but walk with him to my quarters before we have any substantial conversation. When he asks his question, I respond, "Of course, Darkal. What is it?"
Darkal makes small talk with you on the way to your quarters, then takes a seat, "The trip out was good. Xad is a good pilot. Cemma's sharp as a tack, but he's got sticky hands. I still need a good engineer, but I can do that for now. I really enjoyed it." He clears his throat, then meets your eyes. "Brother, I want the Profit Margin. I'll take the debt, and I won't poach any of your people. Of the Far Orbit crew, I mean. She's not a gunship, and she barely fits in your hangar."
It saddens me to think of the Profit Margin as a stepping stone. When I made the deal for her, I assumed she was my life from there on out. Sure, maybe add another ship or two and call the whole thing a "fleet," but... there's a way in which one could say that the Margin herself made me, as much as the missions and crew, Alliance and Empire, friends and enemies have.
It saddens me, but I know my world has shifted, and who better to push the shiny red button than my brother?
I'm sure that he's seen some of that in my face during the long seconds it takes me to answer. "Brother, she's yours, for just the remaining debt. There's a condition, of course, that you'll support the mission of the Far Orbit when my needs and your availability coincide. And that you treat her well. She's been very good to me. You won't need to make payments for eight months, so we won't do any paperwork until then, if you don't mind... no need to give Hontu more information than he has to have. Is a handshake okay?"
He stands up, "Of course it is." He extends his hand, and you shake on it. Darkal grins, that infectious grin he has that made girl's hearts melt back home, then sits back down, "How was your trip with Ahji Dar? She's the one, isn't she?"
I can't help but smile back. "Sorry to say, Darkal, it seems unlikely that I will ever be making any little Kiffar, so the pressure's all on you. Ahji Dar is most definitely the one, and no one is more surprised by that than the two of us. And as to the trip? Very interesting." I give him the details of our dealings with Hontu and allude to general "vacation shenanigans" but don't disclose any more than that.
Something occurs to me. "Hey, I just had a thought. Please don't say anything about the Margin until I've spoken to the old crew? I think they've all found a good place here, but she was home and hearth and livelihood for a long while. Oh, and I'm dying to see what you brought me!"
Darkal nods about the last part, "Of course I'll keep it hush hush until you give me a go-ahead. And while I may sleep with Jojee, as often as she lets me, I won't try to steal her." He chuckles once at his own joke.
Your brother plants his hands on the arm-rests of his chair and springs up, moving over to the wheeled cart he brought along. Like some spokesmodel, he slowly brings out each item to show you, then place on your desk.
"First, we have your klava supplies." He brings out a few pouches and bags of spices that you ordered, then puts this on the desk:
"It's a chopper, for beans or spices, very efficient, and not cheap."
He moves back to the crate and carefully brings out this to set on your desk by the chopper. "A nice set for you and your lady love to enjoy klava together, courtesy your wonderful big brother."
He lets you gawk at that while he moves back to fetch out this dress:
"It will fit Ahji Dar snugly, and make you the envy of the officer corps." He waggles his eyebrows at that. Your brother seems to really get into this. "Oh, the material is sheer, so, you know, scandalous."
He brings forth a black satin cloth and says seriously, "This one is all due to Cemma. He found this one, and it beat anything I could find, by light-years."
I smile at the grinder and the klava set, and the dress only widens my grin. "Darkal, I may have you and Cemma do all my shopping from now on." Then he pulls out the tiara and I'm flummoxed. "Squall... is going to lose zir mind over that. Absolutely. Think I should wait until the day of the wedding to give it to zir? Whenever that turns out to be."
It's normally Darkal that initiates hugs, but this time I buck the trend and stand to pull him into a firm embrace. "Thank you, brother."
Darkal accepts the compliments and thanks gracefully. On the subject of Squall, he quirks a brow, "Trouble in paradise for those two? I assume Amy's the hold-up, right? Stupid girl. I swear." He shakes his head. "If she's going to be with Squall, ask her to marry her, then she should seal the deal. I tell you, she's never happy with what she has, always squanders it. She doesn't have her sister's sense."
He stands, a little annoyed. "I'll go talk some sense into her."
I jump up, alarmed. "No! Absolutely not. Squall is just worried that Amarath is having a hard time adjusting to military life, and, well, think about it. For the first time in her existence, Amy's part of a real committed partnership, and at the same time she's part of a unit, expected to obey and keep discipline. Again, for the first time."
I do have a devious thought. "I wonder, though. Think you might get Amy out for a drink, or even buttonhole her onboard, sometime? Just a chat to catch up? If I go out of my way to ask how she's doing with the troopers, what life on the Far Orbit is like for her, it will carry too much weight for her to be able to give me an unfiltered response. You could do it with no problems. Don't you think?"
Darkal huffs a breath, "You're too easy on her. She needs to get that borg head of hers wired straight. Wait, not what it sounds like. Just, kriff me..." He throws an dismissive wave. "Funny how I never expected I'd be the one everyone was leaving behind."
That takes me aback. "Leaving behind, Darkal? I left you behind years ago, and without the lessons I learned from Ahji and Squall and Jo and Hosk and all the rest, I'd never have been able to come back. Without learning to claim Amy as clan, I never could have committed to the Alliance. If you want a lasting partnership, you can find one. If you think that could be with Jojee, I'll detach her to the Profit Margin so you can find out, if she agrees. Alanna, I know, would die for you. You are not so married to the Alliance that it precludes you finding happiness." I hold up a hand. "I know I'm the little brother, and that I have my own tendency toward moping and unwarranted loneliness. Sorry."
Darkal looks at you like he just caught something, "Alanna would die for me? Well, sure, we've worked together for a while. But... that's not what you mean, is it?" He narrows his eyes, trying to get a read on you.
I shake my head. "Okay, Darkal. Remember that holodrama a few years back, where they followed a healer trying to help a little boy who says he can see the spirits of the departed? There were some scary moments and some sad moments, but in the end when all the pieces come together, you realize the healer has been dead all along, a spirit? And that the little boy is the only one that's actually interacted with him the whole time? It sort of makes you go back through the whole holo in your head, re-evaluating everything in the light of that one crucial piece of knowledge?"
I look to see if he's following at all, but continue on whether he's confused or not. "This is like that. Take my one sentence, which I assure you is true. 'Alanna would die for you.' Then go back and look over all your interactions from the last few years. How does the plot change?"
Darkal gets this faraway look like he does when he's trying to solve one of baba's riddles. He narrows his eyes, fingers running along the desk as he stands there for a little bit. "She's... into me?" He does this little head shake thing, looks at you, "Alanna. She's really great, but I never thought there was anything there... hunh."
Something about the way he says that reminds me too much of Darkal before I left Kiffu. "Captain Vos, haven't you had Force training? Where's the fabled intuition?" I shake my head in mock sadness. "Why did it take your pain-in-the-shebs little brother to point this out?"
Darkal makes a sour face, "Yeah well, Squall and Amy both want to kriff you, so shut up." His cocky grin returns when he adds, "And Jojee does not. She was teasing you, down at the fall. Suck that Force intuition... or something."
"Darkal, I know Squall and Amarath both want to kriff me. I could probably have them together, if I put in a little bit of effort. And whether Jojee wants to now, there has been more than one time when her true colors came out on the dance floor." I stop myself from saying anything about my few adventures with Alanna. I'm not that angry. "I was trying to let you know that you don't have to be alone, don't have to be 'left behind,' as you put it, and when I added a little humor to help the medicine go down you suddenly turned into that seventeen year-old that was part of driving me away in the first place."
Darkal purses his lips, takes a breath and holds it. It's his tell for feeling guilty. Holds up a hand, palm to you, "Sorry, Ladro. The humor cut close to the bone. I... I tried to learn The Force, and failed. Overreacted." He pauses, so you know it's as genuine an apology as you'll get, then switches to, "Jojee is a ton of laughs, but that's all she wants. She'd rather get serious with a cockpit. Alanna... I never thought she'd trust another guy, not after all she's been through. But still, worth checking in with her, you think?"
What anger I was holding goes out the window. "Do me a favor, brother. Just watch the movie in your head a couple of times, and believe me when I say she's at the very least 'into you'. Then make your decision. Alright? And talk to Amy for me. I seriously can't do it properly, because I'm her CO. The rest of them? Squall, Hosk, even Jojee I think I could deal with, but Amarath's likely to do something that lands her with punishment detail if she thinks I'm prying."
Darkal nods, "Yeah, she would. I'll check in with her. Other than not setting a date with Squall, anything else you know of about Amy that I should pry for, without prying, of course?"
"It's really less about the wedding and more about how she's doing with the discipline and fitting in, in general. Not that the wedding isn't on my list. Thanks for doing this."
"Right. I'll check in with her." Darkal says as he heads for the door, leaving the crate and your goods. "Truth be told, I'm already shocked she isn't living in the brig. This is Amy we're talking about." He gives a last grin, then leaves.
Other than duties to make sure the ship is able to resupply and furlough is sorted, anything else to settle before you head onto Gunbarrel Station proper, i.e. off the ship?
I am more than ready to stretch my legs. Not exactly planetside, and I know the air won't be "fresh," but it will be someplace different, at least.
There's a small market here, a training gym with gravity-shifting options, and an amazing observation deck restaurant with a great view of the nebula.
- Hosk advises you on comms that there are some spacers looking for work, he plans on picking up a couple dozen crewmen to help fill ranks.
- Lt. Commander Panaka expresses her concern about the intoxicants and narcotics on station. She's worried that enlisted will indulge, then cause problems. There are a large number of crewmen who have more credits right now than they've ever carried.
- Jojee invited you to come down to Eight Forward, a bar on station. It didn't seem urgent, but she wanted to see you.
- Squall and Amarath have found a room, Squall sent you a text-only comm that they're "indisposed" until tomorrow.
- Ahji Dar is meeting with Osira to receive her first report, since Osira has been working for a few days on the ship. She hopes you'll stop by the Nexus later.
- Darkal wants to spend some time with you after he's talked to Amy (which you now know might take a bit)
Once your legs are stretched, what do you want to do?
I acknowledge Hosk's intentions, trusting his instincts on whether anyone might be a particular liability.
When I get Panaka's comm, I mentally slap myself, because that's something I really should have thought of on my own. I give her authority to contact station security and make an arrangement, letting them know that they're free to stop problems before they get out of hand and return any errant crew to the ship.
As to Squall's message, and Darkal's, I don't respond at the moment, because there's no reason to.
I most certainly intend to stop by the Nexus later, of course.
For now, though, I'll head to meet Jojee at Ten Eight Forward.
8FWD, aka Eight Forward, like most of Gunbarrel, is cozy, with small tables, a thrust stage for singers and holovid entertainment to be piped in. There's a bar to the right, and a few booths in the back. You find Jojee, Dart and four X-Wing pilots all seats around a table too small for them, really. There are a half dozen empty glasses in the middle of the table already, along with a tray with a few deathsticks.
Jojee spots you when you enter, and she stands to wave you over, a lopsided, goofy grin on her face. The pilots all seem a bit unsure about this. Well, except Dart. She does not give a care about who you are on the ship, she's here to relax. Jojee throws her arms around you, "Cap! You know everyone, of course. Have a seat, have some of my ale here, it's pretty zeng!" She keeps a friendly arm around you, trying to corral you to a chair.
I smile at the rest of the pilots. "Gentlebeings, there's no need to worry. I'm in civvies, we're on liberty, and we're all officers here. Besides, the command staff is always so serious." I feel a little guilty at saying that, remembering the Life Day cake, but it still holds generally true.
I'll take the chair and crowd in, gently extricating myself from Jo's arm in the process. "I think I'll order my own ale, thanks... what are you drinking, if it's so zeng?" I buy a round for the table.
Dart answers for Jojee, "Claing juice, Cap! It's not as great as an Arboite Twister, but it's not bad." She drains the rest of her glass.
Jojee doesn't take offense at your move slightly away from her, "We're going to get smashed, but cause ZERO trouble, Cap. Don't you worry!" The other pilots chuckle, and a few hand slaps happen.
So many things I could say that I don't. Not going to fuss with Jo in front of her cadre, that's for sure. Once the drinks arrive, I raise my glass in a toast, not standing since I'm in civvies. "To our vessel, her crew, and especially to you, the point of the spear and the finest pilots I'm drinking with right at the moment." I don't know what the "official" toasts might be for either the Alliance or the Empire, and I don't really care.
After a few drinks, Lt. Tover Abogado turns to you, asking, "Cap Vos, we all know Jojee was your pilot for the Margin. What's the craziest thing she did?" Dart is suddenly very interested, and Jojee's eyes widen, she's hopeful you make her look good.
What do you do?
I steeple my fingers and look around at the assembled pilots. "Craziest thing? Well... it's not the time she jumped off a kilometer-high cliff naked and expected the updraft to land her safely in the water. Not the time she landed us on Cholganna in the middle of cyber-enhanced nexu and then got us off-planet again, after... well, never mind that. I think the craziest thing she ever did was to go for a nine on the Galactic Intoxication Scale and wind up falling asleep trying to kriff a miner."
"She drinks harder than she flies!" Crescent yells after downing another drink. Dart just keeps laughing.
Abogado, full of questions, asks, "I hear your brother flew off with your ship and that sleemo Cemma the Younger, and we had to chase them down here. Ia that true?"
I chuckle. "All the pieces of that are basically true, but the conclusions are wrong. Darkal left with the Profit Margin and Cemma the Younger, because I asked them to come ahead of us and set up the deals we need. And yes, we followed them because that was the plan, but we didn't chase them down." I take a sip of my drink. I'm definitely not looking to get drunk with the crew, informal or no.
After maybe twenty minutes and three rounds, Jojee looks over, "Cap, what brings you down here? Anything bothering you?" She gives you her "serious look" for a moment.
I'm a little puzzled. "Jo, you invited me to join you..."
"Yeah, but you actually CAME!" Jojee blurts out, then slaps your arm and snickers. Dart looks over, laughs even though she's not sure what you're talking about. the guys are all chatting among themselves.
Jojee leans over to talk in your ear, "I told them Darkal was fine. He's here, right? Was thinking of.... you know, finding him, later."
"He's here somewhere, but you might want to slow down a little if you're planning on getting any serious action. Wouldn't want you to fall asleep in the middle again."
That gets another playful shoulder slap, "I'm five by five, Cap. Don't you worry, your brother can keep me awake!" She laughs hard, covering her mouth, then snickering between her fingers. Abruptly, she asks, "Everything good up with the muckity mucks and command central?"
"Everything is working itself out. I've got to admit, though, I go to bed tired every night and I'm never sure I've actually accomplished anything. Seems like as soon as one thing gets done, two more have popped up behind it." I shrug. "I chose it, though, and I don't think we're losing ground, at least. Oh, speaking of Darkal..." I take another sip of my drink. "He's taking over the Far Orbit. He'll be assuming the debt, once payments come due again. It makes me a little sad, but it's going to be a long time before I have the time to give her the attention she deserves."
Jojee gapes at you, waiting for the punch line. "Well... it makes sense. I, uhm, already got all my gear out." She stops talking, just looks at you, the impact of this sinking in. She's speechless, Ladro.
The rest of the pilots are carrying on, maybe louder, just to demonstrate they're not eavesdropping, letting this moment pass without comment unless it's pointed out to them directly.
What do you do?
I understand what she's feeling. "It wasn't easy, but when Darkal asked, it just made sense. Hey... maybe we can find time for the five of us to share a toast aboard the old girl before the Far Orbit heads out for our next score? Does that sound good?"
Jojee sniffs, nods a couple times, her eyes growing glassy. She scoots away from the table, a little closer to you, "Yeah, that'd be great. I mean... it can't just sit there waiting for us. And Darkal's the second best captain I know." She wipes at the bridge of her nose, then huffs a breath, "Don't tell Lee I said that, of course."
I smile despite the melancholy that's finally sinking in. "Thanks, Jo. She really changed our lives, didn't she? The Profit Margin." I put a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I didn't mean to spoil your fun, Lieutenant."
She sniffs again, shakes her head no, "No, it's alright. This is the right thing to do. Just, you know, struck me. It's a great ship. A great crew."
I share a few more drinks with the pilots, amusing them (hopefully) with the story of my misadventures in tree-octopus hunting and a few other stories. I do realize, though, that most of them are on best behavior, and that's not what liberty's about, so after a brief chat with Dart and a strong attempt to learn just enough about the others to remember their names, I will excuse myself.
Since I've already started down this bittersweet path, I'll look up Hosk and share the news with him next.
This is the Trandoshan:
Hosk stands and gives you a salute, it's for show, you can tell. "Captain Vos. This is Tray'Essek." He gives you a head nod. He doesn't look military, he looks merc, maybe bounty hunter.
I acknowledge Hosk's salute with a wave, then nod to the Trandoshan in return. "Tray'Essek, it's a pleasure to meet you. Hosk, when do you think you might have a few minutes for me? I have a bit of news I'd like to share."
Hosk gives a curt nod, then looks to the Trandoshan, "Tray'Essek, I've got your idents on file, and I need to run some checks. Stick around, I'll get you an answer by tomorrow."
He turns and heads out. Hosk gestures to the chair opposite his once you're alone, "What's your news, Lad?"
I sit. "I spoke with Darkal earlier. He'll be taking over the Profit Margin and assuming the debt once payments start up in eight months or so. It just doesn't feel right to have her sitting mostly idle in the belly of the Far Orbit." I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I know you're not the sentimental type, but I am. I'd like to get the five of us, her crew, together for a toast on the old girl tomorrow. Are you in?"
Hosk takes a drag off his deathstick while you're talking. His left eye squints with the smoke curling up. He nods once, "She's a good ship. Not much for a military vessel. It makes sense. I hope he isn't trying to poach good crew."
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 13)
"I'm assuming you're in for a farewell toast. I'll let you know when." I lean back in the chair, which isn't particularly comfortable. "There's something that I've never understood. With your experience, your skills, your instincts, you could be heading up your own merry band of mercenaries by now. You're a natural leader, a born organizer, and you got the drop on me the first time we met. Why did you hitch your grav-sled to this donkey in the first place, way back when?"
Hosk chuckles, then buys some time to answer by taking a long drag from his deathstick, "Lad...." He begins, pausing to blow out smoke. "Ah hell. When they finally let me out of prison, I'd lost my rank, my credits, my whole kriffing army. My family. My wife. Everything I cared about was gone. I just wanted to stir poodoo up and cause trouble. Not care about anybody or anything. And to be honest, Lad, you were just wild enough to seem like a good idea. You do cause trouble better'n anyone I've ever known."
He takes a last drag off his deathstick, blowing smoke into the air above his head. "I didn't expect you to give me any kind of trust, but you did. I didn't guess you'd put me around people I'd actually care about, either. Or hand me the opportunity of a lifetime here. But you did." He fixes you with a serious look. "And most everyone who sticks around you ends up better than they were when they met you. Except maybe you."
That last bit makes me raise an eyebrow. "Hosk, what do you mean, 'Except maybe you?'"
Hosk frowns a bit, leans forward to stamp out his deathstick, and answers, "I look around at all the people who have crossed your path, Lad. To a one, they're in a better place than before they knew you. Squall was a junkie. Now ze's a kriffing head engineer. Amy was a suicidal and stupid merc with no friends. Now, she's got lots of friends, and a steady paycheck. Jojee is a karking X-Wing pilot. Ahji Dar is... well, Lad, I've seen her smile. I don't know her from before you knew her, but she does not seem like a bloodthirsty gun-runner who would rather disintegrate you than look at you. Darkal's getting his own ship. Lens is still kriffing alive. You started a droid underground. You took on a bunch of turncoat Imperials and taught them what it's like to stand for something they can actually believe in. You saved four squads of green recruits who would have been a mark on somebody's datapad of the day's casualties. You made sure that a minority of the crew, a bunch of criminals and thugs, got representation and a chance to earn some say on the ship. And you might be up there where you can't see the good you're doing for them. But I'm here, down here, and I see."
He laughs a derisive laugh, "Even Sark, that son of a nerf-herder, is probably doing some kind of good for the Rebellion instead of playing both sides off the middle." He throws a hand out, pointing towards the ship, "Not to mention eighty-plus Talz, who are still singing their whistling songs in your honor. It's been weeks, Lad! I hear that poodoo in my sleep sometimes."
Hosk scoots his chair back, stands up to look slightly down at you, his eyes serious. "But what about you? You run a frigate, and the best you've got to show for it is a nice klava set. We score a small fleet worth of booty, and you end up with just enough credits to buy the freedom of those damned Talz. Your mother probably still considers you a pariah. Hontu the Hutt and Sark both have your pink nuts in a sling. And for all the favors you've backlogged, you and I both know you'll never call in a marker for anything other than helping someone else. That, Lad. That's what I mean."
That hits me like a hammer. "I just don't know, Hosk. I feel like my whole path to where I am has been giving up favors, giving up control, but you say I've got them backlogged. I've had a few shots of whatever Jo was drinking, so I may not be following well. Tell me how I get my mojo back."
Hosk nods slow, keeping your attention, "You can't rewrite history, and you won't send people to take out Sark or Hontu, so all you can do about them is just keep doing what you do, and when they come calling, you push back on them. A favor doesn't mean you compromise yourself or your people. Now, as for you living like a pauper..." He taps on the table, "You need a bigger salary. You need an impressive space that is yours. You have earned so much, and you need something to show for it. To remind these people who you are. And I know you're running thin, Lad. I want to give you half my take from the last haul. I want to give it to you. And I want you to just take it. Alright?" He fixes you with a stare, waiting for you to agree.
What do you do?
"Does it say something that I never thought of "sending someone" to take out Sark or Hontu? I always just assumed I'd do it myself, if need be. Almost did, with Sark."
I shake my head firmly after I say that. "Hosk, I can't take your credits. It's not right."
"It's not right if you're taking them. It's alright if you let me give them to you." Hosk explains, the left corner of his mouth quirking with a frown at your refusal. "At least some, Lad. It's hard, watching you live this way when you're the one running the show. I would feel better. What the varp would I do with all those creds, anyway?"
"I'll tell you what. You buy a bottle of the good stuff for our last toast to the Margin, and if you've got ideas for how I can up my image that need creds, I'll let you help with that. How's that sound?"
Hosk harumps once, tries giving you the glare a bit longer, but you're not budging and he sees that. "Alright, Lad. That will do. I'll get cracking on the bottle now. Let me know when you've set up the meet. Everything else alright?"
"Everything's five-by-five, Chief. Especially with you watching my back." It occurs to me that, after all these years, I don't know how Bothans shake hands. Not going to ask, so I reach out to grip Hosk's forearm and look him in the eye. "I don't deserve you, Hosk, but I'm glad for you."
"Ah hell, Lad. That's enough. Just... don't hug me, alright? I get enough of that from Squally." He gives that quirk of a grin.
Anything else with Hosk? What's your next move?
I chuckle at the hug comment. "Just so you know, there will probably be hugging, when we give our send-off to the old girl. And I might be one of the huggers. It'll be a special occasion." I make my goodbyes and head out so Hosk can finish his hiring, then wander for a bit. In the end, I decide it's time to check in with Ahji about Osira's report. No use bothering Squall and Amarath before morning.
Ahji Dar is at the Woenid Nexus, which sits inside the Far Orbit's Boom. You walk up the ramp into her ship, Ahji Dar awaits you in her quarters. When you enter, she's sitting on the small couch, wearing a loose-fitting robe. Osira is seated on the floor, at her feet. She's wearing her normal robes, but you see she has a new item. A collar.
"Greetings, Captain Vos." Osira says quietly, looking to Ahji Dar.
Ahji Dar smiles and pats the couch beside her, "Come, my Tom. Join me." Then, to Osira, "Fix us some klava. All of us." Osira rises and heads to the klava set.
Osira can't have internalized all the finer points of making klava in these few days, but I take a seat, willing to be surprised, since my fierce kitten is asserting her status. "Please don't let me distract you from the brew, Osira, but I'm interested in your initial impressions." I sit, of course, where I've been instructed to.
Osira slowly pours three cups as she answers, "I will speak plainly, Captain Vos, and speak of the three crews. I have already gathered that this is a forbidden term aboard the ship, but I hope you will allow me this shorthand." She offers the tray, her balance excellent. Ahji Dar takes the first cup, allowing you the second. Your kitten drinks first, which you realize could easily be taste testing, or it could be poison tasting for your benefit. She nods, a small one.
Osira continues, "The recruits you saved from Taul are your greatest asset, even though they're inexperienced. They are fanatically loyal, which is a threat only in that they are actively speaking out for you, and the Rebel Alliance. They have been assigned menial jobs throughout the station or serve among the troopers. That means they are not well positioned to actually run the ship."
After taking the tray back to set in its proper place, she returns with her cup and sits on the floor, kneeling to face you, and continues, "The ex-Imperials are generally positive about the current situation and direction, but this is because as a whole they are motivated by credits. Your most recent capture of the merchant vessels has given them more than they ever hoped or dared dream. But they're already burning through their credits, looking for the next big score. They are dangerous, but I have begun talking with one of their ringleaders, a man named Peshta Crownswater. I will most likely need to sleep with him. If you have no objections." She pauses before continuing, but it seems there is more.
What do you do?
If anyone had told me six months ago that I would have a spy/minion/lover that would be asking for my permission to sleep with someone in order to extract information for my not-quite-nefarious purposes, I would have laughed until I hurt. Now, though? "I don't have any objections, as long as you think it will be useful and Ahji Dar agrees."
My life is strange.
"You may kriff whoever you need to protect our interests, Osira." Ahji Dar says with a calm voice, no hint of jealousy or irritation at all. "Tell us of the third crew. And please remove Ladro's boots. He will not be leaving... for a while."
Osira scoots over to begin taking off your boots and continues her report. "The third crew, the pirates, are more varied. They are angry at the many slights from ex-Imperial officers, and have taken over most of the work on the lower third of the active decks through intimidation, bribery and a few physical altercations. They are close-knit, and it seems like there is a cadre who want to make this ship their home, while others just want to plunder, not unlike the ex-Imperials who they despise."
She slides off both of your boots, begins massaging your feet with care, "I have befriended Mii Heswop. He assures me he is well-connected, but I believe he over-estimates his reach. He should provide me a contact that I can follow to work my way in. It is possible I will need to participate in some sabotage or allowing information to slip into their hands to prove my dedication to their cause. I will notify you if I am able to minimize impact. I cannot guarantee this."
Ahji Dar looks to you, she is not giving permission for possible damage to the Far Orbit, that's for you.
I hold up a hand urgently. "Stop. Now." When Osira stops rubbing my feet, I clarify. "Not the massage. The talking. I'm interested in the results, but there are things about the process I simply can't know. If I give you permission to participate in sabotage, I could be tried by the Alliance and keelhauled by the crew. And they'd be right to do it." I take a breath and steady my voice. "That said, I can provide you information that you might think useful for trade. Any sabotage that might do more than cause the crew discomfort would be an offense I can't overlook." I emphasize that qualification, then look down into her eyes to see if she understands.
"You have your orders, pet." Ahji Dar purrs. Her hands work at the knot in her robe, which she then opens with one hand, and reaches over for your hand with her other hand. She pulls that hand over towards her breast and arches her back to push herself into your palm, and purrs again.
"Captain Vos," Osira says quietly. "I now understand the trust you have placed in me. I will no longer explain my methods. I will share results." She bends to kiss the top of your left foot. "If ever you wish details, I will fully comply."
What do you do?
Oh, do you have the dress with you?
I think that's what I'm asking from Osira. As I said, new to having a minion. As to the rest... my hand goes willingly to Ahji Dar's breast, thumb instinctively teasing across her nipple.
"I think that's enough of a report for tonight?"
Oh, and since I'm asking questions. What wasn't quite right about the klava?
By the way, the dress is still hanging in my quarters. Not the moment... And the klava was just off, because Osira scorched the spices a bit. Very nearly perfect, just that small touch wrong.
The lovemaking? It's our third time, the three of us together. The second was... kind of uncomfortable? Finding our way after opening a new horizon. This, though? Tonight? Exceptional. It turns out that Ahji Dar and I can pass off the "dominant" role like a relay race baton. Like a winning relay team. And Osira is a perfect submissive, despite all her skills and capabilities.
My life is strange.
"Ladro," she says softly. "I am growing restless. I want to take the Nexus into the stars again. I want to strike. I want to hunt." It almost sounds like an apology. Osira gently kisses your feet.
What do you do?
I reply equally softly. "I knew this would be coming, my fierce hunter. You know that I love you, but I know that there's no way I can cage you. I know you'll come back to me. Orbital mechanics." I pause for thought, then continue. "If I can find you worthy prey that also helps me, would you be willing to consider it?"
"Of course, my love." Ahji Dar says, her tone thankful for your understanding. "I would gladly hunt those who trouble you. Our orbits will align soon. They will always align." She cranes her neck up to kiss each brow. "Osira will continue to serve you. I will return for the wedding of your crewmates, if not sooner." She turns her head to lightly brush your cheek with the fuzz of her own. "You are my heart, Ladro."
"And you, kotenok, are my sun and stars, the very breath in my lungs. I will miss you painfully. When do you think you'll be leaving?" Of course, because I can't help it, I immediately jump into planning mode, as well. I need to limit noticeable contact with Osira, so we'll have to set up a dead drop and an off-books communication protocol. All that. But mostly, I'm preparing myself for Ahji leaving.
I run a fingertip lightly along one of her ears.
Ahji Dar spends a moment savoring your touch on her ear, it is a sensitive spot for her, as you well know. With her eyes closed, she answers in an almost dreamy voice, "When you leave port, the Nexus will remain. Whatever targets you request of me will be my first priority."
Osira continues gently kissing your feet, and slides over to start working her way up the inside of Ahji Dar's right thigh.
I turn to Ahji Dar and meet her eyes. "I gave Darkal the Margin today, kotenok, and learned that our orbits will soon diverge again. I would like to be alone with you for a while. Are you okay with that?"
"Treat her well, my Tom." Ahji Dar says once her door is closed and Osira is out of earshot. "You need her. There are many vipers here. I worry for you."
"I am aware of the snakes, lyubovnik, and I will treat our new friend well. She's already proving her worth, isn't she?" I put my arm around Ahji Dar and draw her close, inhaling deeply to fix the scent of her in my memory.
"I don't have an escape route any longer, kitten. I've given Darkal the Margin, and now my command is entirely dependent on the Alliance and the agreements made by the crew of the Far Orbit as a privateer... Have you ever known anyone that smoked deathsticks?" I know it's a 90 degree turn, hoping she'll adjust.
"I know Hosk." Ahji Dar replies as she snuggles in tight with you.
"Sometimes, when someone tries to quit, they keep a few deathsticks tucked away. They usually say it's to 'test their resolve' or some such poodoo, but it's always seemed like leaving themselves an out, to me. That's what the Profit Margin was. A lifeline, in case I wanted to run away and go back to the bad old days." I give her a kiss, right at the delicious spot where the earlobe joins the neck. "I guess I'm kicking the habit."
She purrs in a delighted fashion, "I am the habit you should never break. And if you ever need to escape, I am your route." She fixes you with those lovely yellow eyes of hers, "You have your crew-family, and our pet. You have allies among the Far Orbit as well. You will overcome the vipers. I worry for you, because I know the path is hard. But I do not fear for you. You are a hunter, like me. You will prevail, and we will kriff like wild animals in celebration." She leans in for a long, deep kiss, licking your lips as she pulls back.
Who would ever have thought that my heart would find its home in such a being? I dispense with metaphors and turns of phrase. "I love you, Ahji Dar." I relax into her, not hungry for anything but time, which is increasingly rarer than credits for me.
Let's skip ahead to the next morning, why don't we?
You catch up with Squall and Amarath in Gunbarrel. They're both eating a paste-like breakfast in small bowls with some blue milk, sitting at an observation deck. Amarath is sitting on a chair, Squall is on her lap. When they see you, Squall hops up to hug you, Amarath stays seated, but gives you "the nod" of greeting.
What do you do?
After returning the hug from Squally, I order one of the breakfast specials: hotcakes with carbo-syrup and a side of sausage whose origin I won't ask about. And a pot of kaff, since I didn't get much sleep last night.
"I wanted to talk to the two of you," I say, as I sit down without apologizing for interrupting their breakfast. "Ah... wanted you to hear this from me first. I've turned the Profit Margin over to Darkal. He's going to take over the debt once payments come due again. She was home to all of us, to one degree or another, and I'd like to come together onboard for a toast later today, maybe tell some stories?" For some reason, looking at Squall while I say this is what finally causes moisture to start seeping from my eyes.
Squall's face is one of shock. Ze starts to recover, then your eyes "leak" and zir mouth drops open and ze blinks like mad, then just starts crying. Ze didn't sit back down on Amarath's lap, so ze is standing there, looking at you across the table. "But it's our home... I mean it sounds stupid out loud... I just always imagined we'd go back to it. Or something."
Amarath's brows knit and she asks with curiosity, "What's Darkal gonna do with the Margin? Haul freight? Work ops? All the above?"
I hear Amy's questions, and I'm processing them, but... I remember:
Squall, covered in lubricant from some piece of equipment, the dark fluid mixing with a touch of blood from nicks and scratches on zir thin arms, grinning up at me from the deck of the engine room of the Margin, celebrating yet another triumph of ingenuity and resourcefulness over age and entropy.
I move around the table to pull Squall into another hug. "I did, too, Squall. I did, too."
When ze finally composes zirself, ze sniffs, looking up at you, "That's where I got my head on straight, Ladro. That's where we became a... you know, a family. This place is so wide and so many people and I." Ze sniffs again, clears zir throat, "I miss it. I snuck on board the Margin maybe a half dozen times while she was sitting in the Boom. Just sat in there. You know?"
I release Squall from the hug, take a step back. "I know. Only snuck in once, myself, though. Just sat in the captain's chair, staring at that karking shiny hyperspace button."
"Don't know exactly what Darkal's plans are. I assume they're like mine. Some jobs to pay the piper, some to serve the cause. Even better when they align."
Amarath asks in a not-that-casual tone, "Does he have his crew?" Squall looks over at her with surprise, her mouth opening slightly as ze stands on unsteady feet. Amarath looks down at the table, her voice dropping to a lower tone, like maybe she's just mentioning it, no big deal, "I could, you know, take back my old slot."
Oh... kark me sideways and upside down. I've been totally tone-deaf, had all the signs and ignored them by talking to Amarath and Squall together. I was so wrapped up in my own dreams of what the Profit Margin meant, after... whatever... that I was ignoring the signs and portents.
----
AUP to Keep Ladro's Poodoo Together
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 4. Total: 8)
"Amy!" Squally says, zir tone full of hurt, "What about our wedding? And, and, you'll be gone..."
Amarath cuts her off, sitting up straighter, like she's growing to this sudden idea and grasping for it, "Squally, we can still do that. Plus. Plus, we can't even get together when we're on the same crew, you said that yourself. So like, now we'd be able to spend time together, and I'd still be on the Margin, and..."
Squall's eyes flash with sudden anger, zir fists clenching, tears still rolling down zir cheeks, "Sithspit, AMY!" Ze steps forward on Amarath, "You just want out! Soldiering's too hard, and you want to cut and run...."
"Come on, Squally, I'm the worst crew on the whole karking ship! I've spent more time in the brig than out!" Amarath rises up out of her seat, locking eyes with Squall, not backing down.
What do you do?
"STOP!"
I sit, then gesture for them to do so, as well. "Squall, you'll be happy as long as you have an engine to give tender-loving-care to, as far as your job goes. Amarath, we tried, right? I know you gave it your best shot. Here's the thing... it's war time. Couples get separated. Ahji is leaving me to do her own thing. Lens and Mikka must be apart much of the time. There's no reason not to get married just because Amy isn't suited for marching in lines and close-formation drill. Is there?" I look at them both. "I bought a tiara."
Your last statement is cut by a gasp. It's Squall.
Squall says with wonder in zir voice, "You... you did? A real tiara? I've never seen a real one." Ze hasn't forgotten the hurt, the stress of this moment, but the abrupt change is letting zir put it on the back-burner, process what you're saying.
Then Amarath pushes it, "So, you're good with this, Cap? You know I did good on the Margin. I'll do right by Darkal."
"Frankly, I'm not okay with it. Darkal's committed to building a crew without poaching from the Far Orbit, and if he even thought you were trying to join up to run away from your commitment to Squall, I'd guess that he'd say 'no' pretty strongly, regardless. I do have an idea, though. I'm going to ask a few questions, first."
"First question: I know you had a problem with the discipline, but did you manage to pick up anything about small-unit tactics and procedures, when you weren't in the brig?"
She shrugs, "Yeah, of course. I'm better at cover formation now, and Kessik taught me some wicked tricks with smoke grenades, learned how to retrofit the E-46. Lots of the stuff that matters. I just suck bantha balls at the whole spitshine polish, marching in a row, sir no sir poodoo. I'm an awful trooper."
"Amarath, please listen to me. You say you're an awful trooper, and I believe you. If nothing else, your disciplinary record supports that. Unfortunately, this is in fact a military vessel as well as a privateer, and discipline problems are generally resolved with a discharge. I'm trying to help you, here, so take that seriously."
"Second question: you don't have to do it now, but if you were asked to rate the members of your squad based on their capabilities in individual areas like shooting, close-quarters combat, tactical thinking and the like, do you think you'd be able to do a good job of it?"