Log:Spice Runners: Will They All Fit

Poe's crew leads a big heist

OOC Date: August 12, 2022
Location: Deep Space
Participants: Spice Runners, Hadrix Kora, Kohnner, Vega, Ektor, Poe Dameron

The Ghost settles down in the space station's hangar with ventral jets spewing hot steam and jet-powered heat to take on the artificial gravity and weight of the vessel. The transition from space, to air, and then to landing struts spans a matter of seconds and soon the ship is rocking from dispersed weight as the pilot settles them into place with an overhead view of what lay before them.

Santo's acquisition proved valuable because the intel they extracted from him was everything.. and more.

From the control cabin of the Ghost, Poe points behind the concealment of a tinted cockpit window. "They have no idea. We're looking at all kinds of fighters out there.. ripe for the picking. And one of these crates.." He points at a small sea of storage crates, "..has the hyperdrive I've been hunting all over this rekking galaxy."

Poe settles back into his seat a moment, rubbing bearded jawline in thought. "I'm going to have my hands full dealing with who passes for port authority. I have a /lot/ of spice they're gonna want, but not for the price I'm pitching. I need you all to find the storage crate I'm looking for and mark it with this magno-tracker. Try not to draw too much attention until we have it. Because after that, I'm sending my buddies in the lounge out to get those starfighters and fly them out.. gonna be a hell of a trip, but they'll need people to cover them while their embarking into cockpits to take off. From there.. we sort of.. improvise. There will be no questions... questions?"

Poe is wearing a black G-suit with no markings, and an old flight jacket with a red placard marking him as a Commander; Commander of /something/.

T-Visor focusing on Poe while he speaks, Hadrix's armored form looming in the back of the group while Poe gives the rundown, hands folded with right hand over left vambrace before his belt, <"Mark the crate, don't be spotted doing it, cause a diversion."> head ducking in a shallow nod when he repeats, <"Improvise the exit.">

Looking to the others assembled, the big man's vocalizer gets a hot mic of a grumbling sound that seems more breath that irritation, <"Shouldn't be hard."> turning with a final, <"Use my commcode to mark me on your HUDs, if you have them."> then he is stalking for the ramps like some oppressive darkness from childrens stories, if only because of the midnight purple dyed plates of his armor that seem to soak up ambient light around him, dimming it.

Now, how will he decide to cause his diversion?

The sound of large armored booted footfalls, uneven in size, clanked through the Cargo Bay of the Ghost. Limping just slightly, CHON KOHNNER the Klatooinian Space Ronin decked out in his void armor and tattered white hooded cloak stopped just as Poe was finished with his briefing. <<"Look for a fancy Hyperdrive... sounds pretty basic.">>

The Space Pub clears his throat and limbs across towards the ramp, moving that robotic leg of his he'd lost fighting on Thyferria. Thankfully he knew a good Doctor. A nod to Hadrix, <<"I'll send you a link to my IFR FRQ.">>

Vega's all black robed and listening to things as Poe explains what is needing to be done. When he mentions not drawing too much attention to themselves there's a look down at her clothing and then there's a bit of a look up to the ceiling. Maybe they'd think she was just a monk or something. That would work. She pulls her hood up to conceal her face and features, because that'll help. "Sounds like a simple enough plan." the woman states with a nod.

"I love diversions. Everything's a diversion, if you think about it, yeah?" Ektor drawls lazily, in a tone that suggests he doesn't think very hard about much. In a flightsuit that has clearly seen better days, worn peeled to the waist, with sleeves tucked into his gunbelt, so as not to drag. He's in the company of a half dozen similarly disreputable looking characters, with slightly better taste in tattoos than him, but all an easy fit among the scum and villainy of the Galaxy. "Come on, let's get a card card game going, yeah? I'm feeling lucky."

"You guys got it. Now.. let's do this.." Poe says in confidence as he rises from his seat and dons his gun belt. A subtle, high-pitched whine indicates he's activated his personal shield device, keeping himself protected with a barrier if drek hit the fan and the whole deal went pear shaped.

"Simple plans are the best plans, kid. Most drek don't pan out when you make contact with the enemy, so if you keep it simple, there's not anything complicated to worry about." Poe pats Vega's shoulder in solidarity, his use of kid was more endearment than insult.

As the Tionese pirates (led by Xer) and the others make their way to the lift, they're met by two 10ft tall loading droids that murmur greetings. Poe looks up at one, then ahead, then double takes. "What do you mean my hair needs maintenance?" The ramp is already coming down though, so the question goes unanswered as artificial light pours in on the homely crew of the Ghost.

"PRETTY GIRL, THIS UNIT'S PROGRAMMING INDICATES IT'S A GOOD DAY FOR.." Poe cringes at the nasally voice of his battle droid adorned in bones, Mister Bones, speaks. Poe expects him to say MURDER, but the droid surprises him by saying, "..CAPITALISM."

"Shut up and stay close to me, Bones."

"Roger--Roger."

Poe leads down the ramp and waves his crew off. "Go find drinks.. or something. I'll work out our pay.."

Poe is met by a few pirates, all eager to get their hands on some spice. "Your boys the spice runners?" He asked, and Poe smirked. "Depends on who's asking." Poe replied back, propping his foot up on an empty crate and leaning forward. The response earned a few laughs, and Poe, keeping his bearing, said, "No seriously.. you and your boys sector rangers? It's been a huttsucking time trying to find the real deal, and I'm sick of trying to trade to fake pirates."

The hangar is a large place, and pirates are mingled everywhere. Aside from the noise of droids moving drek around, and the heavy scent of oil and fuel, it seems like any other port.. except this one is full of scum. Some pirates are moving 'cattle' slaves, prodding them with shock paddles to line them up to board a ship. In some other area, near all the parked fighters, there's a group of pirates playing cards and drinking. Some hotshot pilot is winning a hand and everyone just went, "OHHhhhhhh!" He crosses his arms and smiles smug-like, his opponent considering his blaster more and more.

The area with all the crates isn't as busy, but its just beyond the parked fighters, and it's in the direction droids are unloading gear. Poe's loader droids seem to be waiting to be commanded by the crew and told where to carry the crates they hold, it might be good cover as an escort..

Really, it's ludicrous. Maybe as much as Mr. Bones himself. One moment the looming figure of Al'Verde Kora is there and in the passing of a dozen cargo crates being pulled by repulsor sleds, at speed he is gone.

Amid the various cargo stacks he moves through shadows, Gripper detaching from her cradle on his back to perform scans as well. Hands gripping his belt, Hadrix does his level best to walk without trying to look like he's intent on going unseen - but his stride perpetually carries him to block others from line of sight of him or to conceal him in local illumination.

<<"Like tracking a needle in a needle factory...">> grumbling aloud while setting to task.

CHON KOHNNER was no COWARD so sneaking was no an option. Seriously who learned to sneak and stay hidden behind cover< s >. So the approach when moving around the bay looking for said specific crate was to grab his datapad and start to record information as if he was taking inventory. Just a part of the crew. <<"Yes... this one is correct...">> He moves on to the next one, inputs some info. ntil he feels some eyes on him. He stops, head tilting up and looking towards the people dealing with Poe. They stare at him, he stares at them... it's just a long staring match that never seems to end.

Droids need to be pointed somewhere? Vega was on it. The robed figure makes herself seem a little smaller as she goes about taking care of the loading droids. When you were fluent in Binary this worked rather well. She seems a bit more at home with the electronic ones than those of flesh and blood. "Roundy, don't go too far without me." the Echani tells him as she directs the other droids.

One of the pirates, a short haired blonde woman, snorts and quips at Ektor, "You ain't got lucky in *months* and it ain't changing here," earning Snickers and laughs from their fellow pilots. Ektor laughs at his own expense. "Hey, you can either be lucky or good, and.. uh. Drek, I forgot how that goes. Forget it, point is, I'm *feeling* lucky." The card games are always by the parked fighters. Always. Pilots are the laziest creatures in the galaxy and hate moving further than they have to. Ektor announces his intention to join the game by setting a bottle of Port in a Storm on the table with a thud, a d asking around the table with a crooked grin, "So which one a you sorry Hutt-suckers is about to be the *second* biggest winner of the night?" In between trading verbal jabs, being suspiciously lucky, and openly drinking during a delicate mission, Ektor engages in the most time honored of pilot traditions: arguing about which ship is best, and trying to see if any of the birds parked around them have been souped up.

"HAUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWLLLLLLLL HA-HA-HAUOOWWWLLLLLLLL!" A few of the pirates in Poe's company taunt as they spot a humanoid dog-man. "It's so ugly, it could be an Alderaanian masterpiece," the other comments. Poe glances toward Chon Kohnner, then back at the pirates. "Well, that's another ten-thousand for insulting my crewmember. You know what it takes to muzzle him and keep him from slaughtering a room of disrespectful spacers? You don't." The pirates look from Poe to Kohnner, then back to Poe. "Come on man, we're just playing." Poe thumbed back toward the Mad Dog Kohnner, "He ain't."

They start haggling prices now, and things seem to be going to plan. Vega has given direction to the droids who march with her toward the crates of other loot and trade stuffs, and no one notices the Mando disappear into the crowd to watch from the shadows. The lazy pilots gathered by the fighters are all eager to see the newcomer, one remarking about Ektor's large stature, saying "Too-Tall here wants to play at being a pilot and a gambler.."

A few wave on the pilot's drink, taking a swig of the port and grunting at the fiery contents. The drink had long been a test of deep space pilots, and you could tell the real from the fake posers really quick with one swig. None seemed to be losing their grit until a younger pilot, maybe eighteen, spews his gulp and wheezes, spawning laughter from all around. He seems the nugget of the bunch, and his face is beet red as he tries to breathe!

The pilots get to talking, "None of yall got anything on my bird. Deth-Tickler has more kills scratched on her hull than any of you..fast engines, four cannons..it's just embarrassing to be killed by something with that name.. hahaha." Boasts the pilot that just lost his hand to Xer. The crowd, surprised at the turn of luck, bellows, "OOOOOoooooohhhh!" To rub it in the fresh wound.

Chon Kohnner, who is near those crates (and so is Vega and Hadrix), may notice the simplicity by which they're all marked; it's by the name of who owns them. Red Serpents, Throat Rippers, Deep Space Stranglers, The Grey Claws. They were all locked in some way, making it difficult to determine visually, but scans could pick up on radiation hyperdrives gave off. A mechanic might know something about that..

Vega looks over the crates as the loaders do their thing, "You wanna scan something, Roundy?" she whispers to him as she crouches to wipe off some of the carbon scoring on him. "We've gotta get you a bath." she muses. She's keeping track of things, trying to figure out which crate contains what Poe needs.

<<"Vega. Get over here...">> looking from crate stack to crate stack, Al'Verde Kora frowns beneath his helmet, tapping a finger against the metal aside the T-visor, hunkering himself in place for the moment. Keeping a watch out for the echani and drawing something from the shabby concealment of his krayt scale cape.

<<"When we're ready - I think I have a good means to start off this diversion." inexplicably its pink. So pink, with only variation being the sights so that they not blend in with the rest of the weapon that was half out of his cape while it hung sideways and over his jetpack. Truly he is a master of stealth to haul the cannon just a hair shorter than he is tall.

<<"Just need a signal.">> tucking himself into shadows, humming to himself.

There is a long staredown from Chon as they mock him and his species. He growls deep and low to emphasise the point Poe is making before continuing on to write down the information on the crates. Different gang names might provide him with follow ups to take on bounties and or other opportunities, including the release of his two sisters.

As for telling what was inside, Chon wasn't much of a friend of droids. Sure he enjoyed Mr. Bones' personality but personally he'd rather sentients take care of things. He just didn't trust programming, probably because he didn't understand any of it.

Fast engines, four guns? Ektor rakes in the pot and shrugs. "The X-wing, yeah? I mean.. they ain't *bad*, and I like the name - Knew this one lump who named his bird the 'End Transmission' just to rekk with any bridge officer who tried to hail him." A dumb chuckle. "But really, X-wings are only any good in a dogfight, yeah? They ain't got the versatility of a Wishbone.. Hell, even that old Starchaser over there better for lighting up loot than an X-wing. Mostly X-wing jockeys got more money than talent, yeah? Well, least until you lose another couple hands, yeah? HA."

The pilot Xer insults happens to be a ring leader of sorts, who takes immediate offense to having his prowess questioned. The table with their hand of cards is flipped over, spilling the contents all over the decking, and pilots rise up! Not to get involved, because this is pretty standard, but to cheer on. "HAAA HAHAHA!" One pirate bellows in laughter, as the Hot Shot lunges at Xer pretty quickly and only manages to stumble over the discarded table he flipped a second ago. He's clearly emotional, but he may not realize his mistake till the Tionese Pirate is back to full height.

Meanwhile, the droids have arrived and deposited their (empty) crates of spice. They begin to conduct scans, joining the crew members (Vega, Chon, and Hadrix) in locating the hyperdrive. The pirates who had been in the vicinity of the crates were moving away to watch the fight. One droid indicates that the Grey Claw crate is the right one, pointing at it, though Vega could likely double check if she had the inclination because clearly, Chon Kohnner had poor experiences with droids.

Poe and company remain in their heated debate, the pirate Captain screaming, "NO WAY I'M PAYING THAT. IT'S OUTRAGEOUS, I COULD GET SPICE FROM--"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be good spice, pal. We aren't Spicerunners because it's a cool name."

He totally thought they called themselves the Spicerunners because they thought it sounded like a cool name. Gripper keeps up to her job, running her scans from crate to crate while the big man goes still, head lowering over the repeater cannon in hand, speaking without comms or externals on, "Kote b'kotep. Ner ijaat b'kot." head dipping and rising quicker and quicker.

<<"Vega, marking crate - this looks to be it. Confirm.">> Gripper's voice over comms, the little droid tucking up against the metal surface to serve as a beacon for the time, keeping a sensor and an optic pointed towards Hadrix's location while he begins psyching himself up for what is to come.

Kohnner continues his rounds, a side eye glanced to the droids as they drop of their empty cargo. The 'double cross' happening at any moment now. They were likely to check the crates and once they found out...

Kohnner looked back towards where Vega and perhaps Hadrix might have been, the Mandalorian preferring stealth in this moment. He sighs, not of disappointment, disapproval, or inpatients but just because he's ready to pounce on the guys who made fun of him. Dang Jerks.

Vega gives a look to Gripper, "Thank you." she tells her quietly as they go about their quiet duties. She perks up when there is the flipping of a table and it sounds like ACTION is about to happen. She slaps the magno-tracker on it because that crate can fit so many things inside of it and then gives a nod to the others. It's about to get messy in here...or they could all just go home. Who knew what would happen?

The Tionese pirates have very clearly done this exact thing, before. No sooner does the table get overturned and the fists start flying than Zappa takes advantage of the chaos to scoop up the forgotten credit chits and make for the X-wing. Zap always goes for the fastest fighter. Two of the less bombastic pilots had already discreetly moved to a landed Headhunter, Ek-Shiik detaching a fuel hose from the fuselage before starting for a Dunelizard , while Fara slips into the cockpit.

Meanwhile, Ektor trades swings with the smaller pirate, clobbering the hot shot with a straight left, and barely slipping a wild swing back. "Bet that one TICKLED, yeah? HA, I'm rekkin hilarious, yeah?" He nearly gets gets hit while boasting.

"PRETTY GIRL, TRACKER CONFIRMED! INITIATING MAXIMUM PREJUDICE PROGRAMMING!" The pirates, confused by the droid near Poe, watch in terror as the battle droid flips up a primed shotgun, the receiver pumped to trigger the safety off. "Oh dr--BOOOOOOOSH!" Bones obliterates the Captain, transforming them into an organic mural of violence that coats his subordinates and leaves them shocked.

Poe turns back to the ramp to run into the Ghost, limp-running to the interior while yelling, "LET'S GOOOOO!" Bones blocks the path of the pirates from reaching his Captain, the bone-covered automaton cycling the receiver and ejecting a molten tibanna capsule before commenting, "This unit's programming indicates it's a good day for termination. Which organic has the preference of being next?!"

It's not clear there's been a m-m-m-m-murder yet, but the pirates gathered round the fight have begun to look toward the sound of hydraulic fuel connections separating and engines priming up on fighters. "What the rekk.. THEY'RE STEALING OUR FIGHTERS!"

As the Mandalorians liked to say, 'Target rich environment'. Pirates everywhere, and the Tionese had a headstart on stealing the fighters.

The Ghost has come online in a moment's notice, the pilot inside no stranger to the controls or hasty action. Poe's practiced wave of a hand sends a series of switches up, and he jerks the controls as modified ventral thrusters ignite with the kind of roar that gave people shivers. He maneuvers inside the close quarters with ease, and triggers the tractor beam to target a very specific signal.

The crate lifts up without warning and clamps to the bottom of the Ghost with a deafening 'CHONNNNNNNNNNNNK'. <<"Got the package.. last part of the plan boys and girls. Cover our pilots, then get back on board. We gotta get out of system whole!">>

Turning as he rises from his position, unphased by the magnetically acquired crate shooting upward and Gripper dropping off to head for the big man, Hadrix's repeater cannon levels, targeting brackets forming around friend and foe alike. Blazing blue or bright red as identified.

<<"Engaging.">>

Forcing heads down by the torrent of plasma bolts belching from the rotating tri-barrel that was a personal touch made by the mandalorian when getting this man-pak readied to his preference.

<<"Sound out if you're going to cross my field.">> even Hadrix's arms are bucking under the recoil of the cannon that is being held in place by the hip brace and his stance. One of the pirates caught under the full, unforgiving, gaze of the repeater optics simply ceasing to be in the wake of the RRUNNKRRUNNKRRUNNKRRUNNKRRUNNK of heavy fire chewing up durasteel, plast, flesh an bone alike.

<<"Probably going across your field.">> Growls Kohnner who's one natural leg and the other robotic one were now turning and taking him towards the group of stunned pirates as soon as Bones opened fire. He sharp metal blade was drawn in a smooth fashion, almost surprisingly as he slashed and hacked, more so keeping the group away from the ships than to actually hurt someone... though if they crossed him...

Chon Kohnner stood there an 'immovable object' against a possibly unstoppable force, yet again bringing a sword to a gun fight like a stubborn fools stuck in his ways.

"They're stealing our WHAT?" Ektor repeats, outraged. Drawing his pistol he demands, "Who's 'THEY'??" Before blasting wildly at the gang he was in the middle of and hobble-sprinting for a Dunelizard. Belatedly he curses, "Hell, I shoulda called it a 'Dreks-wing'."

There's mass confusion all around as pirates watch helplessly as their fighters are stolen right in front of them. The emotions are high, and it's not clear /WHO/ is the enemy here, so in good pirate fashion, they begin to all turn on one another. Pirates fighting pirates makes for an easy escape, though Poe's crew get caught in the chaos of it all.

Punctuating the Ghost's location, the B1 battledroid named Bones obliterates another pirate with a very loud shotgun blast.

Poe's voice is heard over comms, <<"Tionese are nearly all launched, everyone get to the Ghost, and let's get the rekk out of here..">> Poe brings the Ghost low, her ramp open and ready to scoop up friendlies, but he is taxing toward the hangar opening. Laster blasts are absorbed and redirected by ablative and sensor-refracting armor plating on the Ghost while her yellow hued engines begin to glow more intensely. Time is running out.

Blaster fire bouncing off of Mandalorian iron, the grunting cough of the 407 halts momentarily when the crosshair on his HUD reaches the edge of where Kohnner is bracketed and barely moves off of him before it resumes. Letting the push of the plasma discharge push him backwards towards the ship oriented to his six.

<<"Copy. Withdrawing. Covering exit.">> it's hard exit, after all. His preference if being honest. A flashing illumination of his face behind the visor painting the pale complexion as if soaked in ichor on his route. <<"Gripper.">>

"Coming, coming!" the little droid slipping up underneath his cape to socket on his armor, taking cover using Hadrix to protect her from potential return fire beyond what is spattering off his plates.

Ah, here Kohnner was in his element. Just him, starring down a group of stunned pirates. It was only a matter of seconds before the epic final battle would start. Where he would SLAUGHTER these poor fools... All by himself.

And then they started fighting each other. Kohnner stood there stunned, his tight mid guard relaxing into a more laid back stance. Of course the battle enveloped him, he'd charged right into the middle of it, making his escape complicated now. The Chaos of the fighting and the engines roaring as the Tionese pilots took off caused him to sigh. With a hung head he turned and moved towards the ramp of the Ghost. Hadrix's turret erupts nearby, throwing a number of combatants in front of Kohnner. He slices across, hitting one and striking them down. More importantly clearing his way towards the ramp. There was one more fighting duo in his way whom he also sliced through as he hobbled towards the ramp of the Ghost. Finally he reached it. <<"Idiots...">> He grumbled, despite their success.

To save the few seconds it would take him to holster his pistol, Ektor just clicks the safety on and tosses the blaster into the open cockpit before immediately piling in himself and bringing the canopy down. Cackling with a crooked smile, he runs through a horribly unsafe pre-flight sequence, raising shields and lifting off. Rocketing out with the others, he is audibly laughing as he broadcasts, <<Deth-tickler Squad in the black, yeah?>>

With the team loaded up, Bones slams his mechanical fist on the button to close the ramp, sealing it and giving Poe the green light he was waiting for. A second later, and the freighter Ghost is emerging into the vacuum of space, her engines bright and trailing after the fighters.

<<"Astrogate coordinates broadcasted, people. Lock onto the exit vector and follow me..">> Poe attempts to light-skip in that moment but something happens and his cockpit is filled with loud sirens. <<"Rekk me, got a blown hose.. gonna have to do this the old fashioned way.. stand by..">>

Pirate forces have begun to mobilize behind them, corvettes rotating and disconnecting from the station, fighters launching from other bays. It's become a stinger's nest. Poe taps at the gauge for the hyperdrive, which conveys when the old thing is ready. It takes it longer, but eventually, he gets the lock.

<<"Finally.. here we go.">> He yanks back the lever, and in quick succession, the fighters and freighter zip from view.