Log:Traders Union: Debt Collection
Traders Union: Debt Collection
OOC Date: December 9, 2019
Location: Klaatoine
Participants: Idan Jensa, Netep Muri, Kasia Ashkuri, Ca'tra Kora, Mydas Gryph, Tharyn Corlas
The world is Klaatooine, the location a dingy hangar in a third-rate spaceport surrounded by dry grasses sprouting out of arid wastelands. There isn't even a duracrete landing pad, just open spaces in between ramshackle buildings where ships choose to set down. By the stagnant smell on the sharp wind, one might guess there is a swamp somewhere nearby, out of sight. Apart from the vessels those present had brought with them, the minor town hosts a scattering of small transports, the largest of which is an old Ghtroc 'space turtle', and including at least one Kimogila fighter, which has been partially disassembled and never fully put back together.
Those who had come to collect a payday in exchange for an afternoon of rough work are greeted by a gangly insectoid J9 protocol droid, who twitches periodically, sometimes emitting an odd spark. The holoprojector in its hand functions well enough, however, displaying the image of a thin Neimoidian in long robes. <<I.. Thank all of you who have attended,>> Idan's hologram states. <<The subject of today's repossession is this: a Ghtroc model 720 light freighter, the collateral offered for a long-defaulted loan. The owner is a Klatooinian called Den Barada, who fancies himself the.. Boss of the town you are located in. Your task is to remove all persons from the ship in question, alive if possible, dead if necessary, and bring it to the coordinates noted here->> The hologram shifts to a local map, detailing a landing point a hundred kilometers away.
<< I would.. prefer that you begin with stunning any opposition, but.. I will not command you all in such rough matters. In return for the successful completion of this task, you all will be paid half the amount of the initial loan, to be divided among yourselves. Participation beyond this point implies your consent to these terms under article three, subsection sevvvevvevvv-.>> the hologram glitches and fades out. The J9 droid peers at the malfunctioning holoemitter, shakes the unit twice to no effect, and shrugs.
<<"I don't get it...">> Sajin says from behind his armor's helmet, talking right over Idan and the J9 unit. <<"Like... why doesn't he just go bankrupt in the sector the contract was signed that way we wouldn't be beating these people up.">> He holds up his gauntleted hand and it crackles to life with electrect current. <<"I mean... not that I don't want money. Bullies never think logically I guess.">> The Hapan, handsome and dreamy, looked far more intimidating than his normal self with that grey formfitter amror on. It looked a bit odd this time around, shadow depth plates attempting to work as he moves in the light.
Sajin raises his fists, ready to fight, the hum of electricity, followed by light blue sparking around his fists signify that his gloves aren't quite typical.
As soon as the Neimodian's blue-tinted, holographic visage dissolves, a tall and lean being wearing a t-visored, durasteel facemask the color of crimson lets out a distinctive groan which is emitted through his vocalizer.
"<Another haar 'warmercold,'>" Mydas says to noone in particular, utilizing his tribe's slang word for "warm or cold" bounty mission.
Mydas then clears his throat and shrugs. "Whatever. Dead bodies still pay out.”
Kryll is here, armored and armed which is his standard state of existance these days. His helmet is securely on his head as this may turn into a combat situation and he is well prepared for it. He speaks through his helmet, which modulates his voice to those nearby, <"Stuns preferred. That shouldn't be an issue."> he looks about the others gathered here, <"And who is the designated pilot once the vehicle is cleared? I am, unqualified to deliver the ship in a suitable condition."> he reaches down to his holster, pulling out the Glie-44 pistol provided to him by the guild and confirms its on stun, and just to be sure, draws a vibrodagger in his left hand, holding it blade down. He scans the group for those he knows, nodding in turn to each he recognizes.
<< Some people just want to skate up, uh, a hill. >> This nugget of wisdom is offered by Tharyn, who is a bit of a beanpole still despite his sealed armor. While lingering in the back just to stay out of the way of the rest of those hired to do the repo work, he offers, << I'm a competent, um, grenadier. Brought glops for crowd control. >>
Helmet tilted back to take in the freighter, Ca'tra walks around it kicking up puffs of dust as she walks its perimeter. Glie 44 out despite the quiet of the rural port, the doctor has elected to wear her more flexible armor - black and tans, the colors of the cliffs of her homeworld. The exit ramp behind the pilot's cockpit and centered under the dish like hull is, of course, retracted in.
Over coms, <We need to establish who is piloting this thing out once we have gotten on board.> She makes no comment on the obvious stupidity of running up debts and then having to pay double for them.
"Seven," Netep finishes the transmission's failure, having heard plenty of Idan's articles read before. The Netep Muri standing here today is a far cry in appearance from the sloppily sloshed partier attending Ooz's hatchday bash last night. Since when does she dress like an adult? Maybe the cofounder of the Traders Union isn't such a terrible disappointment to Idan, after all. Maybe.
She lifts a few polished, blue nails up for inspection and throws a look around to the hired muscle. Which she obviously is not. "Lemme try and say a few words first, hey, because the bolts go flyin? I mean. If they give us the chance? Ought to offer'im the option to clear all their stuff. Falling on hard, financial times is a..." she scratches the back of her neck. "Well, it ain't great. Anyhow. I'm your pilot. Don't get me killed." A smile flashes pointedly over shoulder to the scarecrow in the back.
The request for assistance in this matter explicitly called for the rough and tumble types, which might make one wonder if Kasia Ashkuri is lost. She's here in a dress, hair done up in fancy plaits and held in place by pins with gems at the end, so her head twinkles in the light. Her shoes are, at least, not entirely impractical but still pretty flats, and her makeup is done. Though it can't be seen, she IS wearing some light armor beneath the dress, but really it's nothing when compared to what the others have on. She's got a bag with her, strap worn crossbody so that it doesn't dangle freely to be easily snatched, and it looks to be full of things. One of which is a large blaster that she pulls from within, holding it and looking ready to go. "Stun first if we can, kill if we must. That makes it pretty simple.”
After a few more inept attempts to get the holoemitter to function, the insectoid J9 droid chatters to itself, and walks on two gangly legs toward the hangar's door. It raises one arm to point at the Ghtroc light freighter landed near the center of town and- apparently considering its work done- turns dull optical sensors over the assembled team, before moving with lurching steps to stand behind Netep Muri. A bit too close, this model of droid hasn't been upgraded with mammalian personal space awareness.
Sajin looks around at the others a moment, giving a shrug as Netep has volunteered to be the pilot. "Myself or Kasia can also fly. We're taken care of, no need to worry about that." Without another word or waiting for the others, the power armor wearing Hapan thuds his way over towards the Ghroc and up to the closed hatch. He turns off his gloves so contact with the hull plating won't cause any overload and then. Clank, clank, clank onto the door with the knuckle of his gauntlent. "EXCUSE ME.... EXCUSE ME. This is ours now!" There's a long pause as the Hapan keeps knocking. Suddenly the intcom comes to life in a language Sajin has heard before but... let's face it. Pretty boy isn't smart. "Excuse me? HOW DARE YOU. No, I did NOT sleep with your mother..." There's a pause as he steps away and looks off into the distance. "Or did I?" They will never know the answer.
Mydas's mask and cloth-covered head recoils as he winces while observing Saijin's attempts to gain entry. He looks around at the associates for this job, and though the woman present probably can't see him do it due to the helmet, he leers at them like a Jawa leers at brand new spark plug fallen from the back of a hovertruck. However, he stops peering at the woman after several seconds and sighs. He walks towards the right, out of sight of where freighter surveillance cameras typically are, and then to the rear-starboard side of the craft. He then draws his sniper rifle from his back and cradles it while he presses his back against the freighter itself.
Meanwhile, Tharyn quietly produces from a belt pouch a palm-sized roundel of an amber material, something which he then carefully applies against the hull by the airlock. It only takes a moment, really, the way he presses the stuff against the metal, then pushes in the detonator spike in so that it looks like a weird sort of tart for droids than an explosive device, a red light winking faithfully from the top of the detonator.
<< All right, >> Tharyn reports, stepping back and away from the ship with a hand resting now on the grip of his pistol. << Charge should tear off the airlock and vent the hull if they try to, um, escape. Pretty sure I put it on perfect. >> Pretty sure. Pretty. Pretty. Pretty sure.
Ca'tra is the silent type. She makes no promises about her ploy but simply removes a black box from the net toolkit hanging from her holster belt. Walking by Kryll (he has placed himself at a busy intersection from the looks of it) she salutes, takes out the box, punches in a code to slap it next to the emergency coded key for personnel stuck outside the ship. The box bleeps, several times in a row, a light on the outside of it staying obstinately orange after trying sequence after sequence.
Muri watches in silence for a couple minutes as Sajin tries the VERY direct approach, then as the other armored folk strategically go about investigating the exterior and attempting a lil B&E. She passes a wordless glance to Kasia, then clip-clops forward and stands alongside Sajin at the main hatch under the freighter's 'neck' and cranes her neck to look UP. "mruishani lorda jee cheeska ku, jeedai jee-jee.," she can't speak Klatooinian, but she /is/ rather fluent in dirty old Huttese. "ma nibobo copah lorda nibobo pankpa keta."
Who is no doubt very much aware what they're here to do. Muri emits a small, patient sigh and stares up at the hatch with unblinking eyes. Not a glare, just a long, earnest look. "oot-main," she motions an empty hand around, "punyoo h'chu hakku dwana che oot-main nibobo copah punyoo nibobo copah punyoo hakku. uba jeedai yocula copah togwa ulwan oot-main uba, coo apenkee chowba bo jee-jee copah nobata-jewz-hakku fwanna stoopa apenkee uba. goba ulwan mruishani apenkee pankpa copah oot-main?”
Does Kasia get the feeling that she's being watched? Perhaps, her gaze does turn to Mydas for a moment, then away again to survey the present situation. "Well this feels like an inadvisable situation to be going into without a plan," she states to no one in particular, then forward to where Sajin stands, knocking. Her brows jump as the reply is translated for them, and then she lets out a laugh. "Pardon," she calls, hand lifting to wave in the general direction of the ship. "You really ought to listen to my lovely friend here," she then gestures to Muri. "Because as you can see, there are quite a lot of people intent on coming inside the ship, and while I know you would prefer they didn't... well, that's not exactly an option either. Open the door and maybe we can resolve this peacefully in a way that will make everyone a little bit unhappy, because that's just how compromise works."
Sajin's knocking is answered in a Klatooinian grunt over the ship's external comm. The J9 droid trailing Muri translates helpfully, "Go aww-way before my foot becomezz detached at the ankle and lodged-d-d forcibly in your lower digestive tract, kind strangerzzz.> When Muri orates in Huttese, and Kasia follows up with her own advice there is a moment's pause. The ship's occupant responds in harsh growled, but discernable Basic: <Try to force my hall, and scavengers will pick your bones for a thousand days.. But Den Barada will hear you. YOU MAY ENTER. But raise my ire and..> Another growled phrase in Klatooinian.
The J9 adds, brightly, glad to be of use, <You may lick the anus of a thousand Hutts, two hours after feeding time.> The magnetic locks clunk open audibly, and the hatch begins to lower with the hiss of hydraulics.
<<"No I will not go away... yeah? Yeah? How about you come out here and test that theory big guy...">> Sajin has his hands on his hips, literally squaring up with the intercom as if that was the actually thing yelling at him. Kasia and Netep are speaking, then the door hatch unlocks. <<"Huh... alright.">> He moves inside the Cargo bay and stands there, looking up at the Dog faced Aliens. <<"Oh... oh you're ugly. That'll make this easier.">> He says. <<"How DARE you speak to a lady like that... You insufferable Huttsucker. I demand you appologize to them imediately, sir... I say SIR.">> He looks scary in that armor, big old dangerous Ryyk blade strapped across his back.
After hearing the freighter occupant's invitation, Mydas looks up to see Saijin already moving through the front hatch. Having observed another associate plant detonation charges, Mydas lets out a distinctive 'hmph' sound.
"Someone always to spoil the joy of a napalmin'," Mydas muses to himself, shrugs, and then enters through the freighter's front hatch. Immediately spotting the dog-faced aliens but keeping a distance of ten-meters, Mydas raises his sniper rifle and allows them to see him cock it. He then adjusts his vocalizer by turning a volume-knob on his belt in the right direction.
"<Please be aware that this is an attempt to collect a debt, and your deaths will be recorded for quality assurance,>" Mydas announces. "<Assuming you don't pay up in credits. But if you opt not to pay in credchits, well, it's like we say in House Gryph." Mydas takes two pensive steps forward. "You will dinuir ni gar runi-" Mydas halts in his pacing and then exhales sharply. "-give me your soul."
Kryll watches as Tharyn comes over to his airlock, and then Kasia. He decides this is a very secure airlock now, and netep is even trying to slice into the systems to open the door. Things look good! And then, Tharyn is playing with explosives again. Kryll slowly looks about, and verrrry quietly steps back away from Tharyn and the explosives. He takes out his Theed pistol, and lines up a shot to the top hull plating. Once the line is secure, he scales the ship to get up top while the others are negotiating. <<This is Kryll, securing the top airlock.>> Once up top, he holsters the Theed pistol and takes his Glie back out, readying up in case that airlock opens. He pauses, looking about for explosives first, then settled he nods and readies himself.
There is the frontal assault, the assault through diplomacy and the back door or in this case from the top-down assault. Kryll and the Mandalorian seem to be on the same wavelength. When the hatch opens she looks at him without a word, nods and does not join the others moving up the ramp. Instead, she looses the grapple that is an integral part of her armor, points it and listens to the whistle and thunk of it attaching to a handhold on the upper hull. With the deftness of hours of upper body strength training, she shimmies up the rope and sets herself next to Kryll. Under the helmet she smiles, gives him another two-fingered salute then retracts the line.
"...duba stoopa, stoopa," Muri mutters, staring down at the suspicious looking cylinder. Definitely suspicious, because she has one just like it in, her arsenal...which is inconveniently not here. "punyoo ulwan ku jeedai peteessa ma nibobo uba killee nobata copah keta, lorda stoopa copah copah jee-jee h'chu--nobata copah h'chu droi!!!" She hisses in a less hissy, more pissy tone. "peteessa lorda hakku copah copah dwana--"
Oh. Erm. Learn to whisper, Muri.
Rolling both lips inward to silence herself, she forces a more amiable smile and struts right around him and up the ramp like no way they heard that. "Greetings to you and yours," she addresses with a small bow of her head after navigating through to the main hold. Her discerning eye can't help but to feel a little better about her own decorating choices after passing through this interior. "You're a pilot after my own heart, Den Barada," said to the biggest (they're all big) Klatooinian who appears to be making the hardest, most direct stare. It's a 1 in 5 guess, yeah? She might've missed the bio on this guy in the datadrop, was a bit of a drunken, confusing evening, that. "Ghtroc 720. I appreciate your choice in craft. Many find the form unappealing, but you and I know she is beautiful on the inside..."
There's a thin veil of perspiration forming on Muri's brow. Is it hot in here, or is it just nerves? "I know our visit is not a welcomed one and I very much understand your desire to turn us into Hutt fodder. It is a sad thing, a failed debt, but we offer you a way out. Please remove all personal belongings from the ship, including yourselves, and we will secure your freighter in a safe place. As a personal favor to you, I will request the ship be withheld from sale for 1 galactic standard week. A final opportunity to repay the funds due and reclaim your wings." Did she clear that with Idan first? Nope, but tis easier to ask forgiveness than permission, no? Unless maybe you're seeking a merciful resolution from a heavily armed band of angry Klats.
Kasia looks pleased as the combined efforts of she and Muri get the door open without doing damage to the ship, shooting Muri a quick smile before she moves onward to pass through the opened hatch. "Well," she steps forward, trying to thump a hand down on Sajin's arm hard enough that he'll feel it. "No need for an apology here, words aren't going to do me and mine any harm." She smiles and looks around to those assembled here. "Aren't you all a strapping bunch." They're not, but she sounds wholly genuine in her compliment of the Klatooinians. She did marry an alien, maybe she's just into that sort of thing.
She looks about to speak when she hears the words carry from Mydas. "Bless. You're a dramatic one, aren't you? Stop trying to claim souls, they don't have any value as a currency, and I'd rather get paid for this without the hefty medical bill that comes with being shot." She offers Mydas a pretty smile, having no idea that it's the same man she saw on Nar Shaddaa just over a week earlier.
Her attention returns to the Klatooinians, listening as Muri speaks, and only speaking again once she's done. "Is this an acceptable deal for you all? I know it hurts to walk away, truly, think of this as an opportunity. A fresh start with something new." And not a painful death at the hands of the rowdy bunch she's with. She doesn't add that last bit, though. Diplomacy.
The hatchway toward the cockpit hisses open, and another Klatooinian- notably larger than most of his species- enters the hold in time to hear the bold words from the heavier pair of the humanoids who have walked up the ramp. "Clan Gryph.. speaks as if their tongues are lost up a Hutt's backside. Open your mouth again and Den Barada will close it, Human," the canine alien growls with a snort. When Muri speaks at greater length, the Klatooinian who is making the hardest and most direct stare narrows his dark eyes on the trader and draws a long, slow breath. Kasia might sense that the big alien is considering the proposal, perhaps looking for a way out that won't lose face as he peers harshly from Muri to Kasia, visibly musing. "Or perhaps Den Barada takes all of you and waits for the weak little money-lender to declare the debt paid with your release? There are only five of you, and not all warriors.”
Mydas's head tilts to the left as Den Barada issues his threat, and then he holds up his left hand as though he were pleading for peace.
"<Ok, ok, fine. Fine,>" Mydas says, and then takes a single pace backwards before turning the sniper rifle into his arms quickly, raising it into position, and firing.
"<Gar'roni it is, then!>”
The elongated red blaster bolt careens directly past one of the Klatoonian merc's head, and leaves a giant hole in the bulkhead which streams out of the other side.”
Up on top of the ship, Kryll is hanging out with Ca'tra as they secure the upper airlock. Listening to the conversation below over comms, they wait to see if this will go south. Then the rifle shot is heard inside, and its time for them to go. With a quick access of the airlock, the doors open and Kryll drops down inside the ship. <"Knock Knock">, his pistol and dagger are brought up and he engages the first targets he can get a clear shot at, which is NOBODY. So he simply fires high into the ceiling to distract the thugs supporting the leader and perhaps give the others a chance to engage properly. <<Ca'tra, multiple targets, fore of my position.>> he sends back the information to the hunter above him so she is prepared on entry.
Though unseen she is grinning at the comic she has chosen to assault the shuttle with, the pop of the sniper rifle has a strangely innocent sound like someone opening a bottle of Fizzy Glug. Dropping lightly behind Kryll C'tra rolls behind the cover of a crate, double checks the toggle on her gun as she draws it and take the first tough with a stun beam. He wounds himself slightly slumping to the ground for cover that he doesn't quite reach.
Well, now it begins. Without a word to Muri after this, though still standing ahead of her, Tharyn now plays the role of human shield and tucks the grenade away into his harness with one hand whilst the other seeks to draw his gun. Shame, really. They always choose the hard way, don't they?
The firing starts abruptly, and Kasia is no fool, she's quick to scramble back out of direct fire since she's somewhat between the howling unhappy targets and those in her group. "Are you kidding me?" she shouts, fully aware of where that first shot came from and sending a glare back at Mydas. "What is wrong with you?!" She's still got her blaster in hand but she's yet to fire on anyone. Her irritation is evident by the continued unintelligible muttering that happens as she ducks behind some crates and waits to see who comes out of this bout of shooting still alive.
Once the first shot is fired (after an instant spared for one Klat Tough to peer at the molten blaster hole burned through the bulkhead behind him O_o) the canine aliens roar and howl as enthusiastic fire is returned. One is staggered by a stun blast, falling against the crate behind him, and managing a shot back at Ca'tra. Others focus fire on the Mandalorian with the large rifle. But Den Barada himself draws a sword and howls after Sajin, striking hard enough to cause a minor hurt, even through the Hapan's fine armor.
Forgotten, the J9 droid continues to translate, <Bzzzt- Behold, Barada, look very closely and s-s-see what I am doing with my hand-paw, as I am expressing pride and confidence in using it.>
Sajin watches an Ban jumps down and chops at him with his sword. Instinctivly, and trusting his armor, the Hapan brings his left arm up to block the blade. It cleaves through the plating and somewhat into his harm. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Exclaims the King of Drik. "That really hurt, man!" The Hapan brings up his leg and kicks the Klatoonian leader in the chest, ripping the blade from it's entry point. As fast as that happens and as painful as it might be, Sajin puts that into the strength of his strike, and clocks the dog faced dissident across the muzzle jaw. One might even see some blood and spit fly across the cargo space. All heard the very loud pop of /something/ not good breaking or dislocating.
"Stay down you Huttsucker.”
"What is wrong with you," spoken by the human female he'd been lecherously and unbashedly scoping out earlier is the last thing Mydas hears before...
- PEW PEW PEW PEW!*
Several red blaster bolts stream towards Mydas, all of them striking his armor in the chest area and forcing him to stagger backwards.
"Ugh..." Mydas utters, but then his vocalizer emits an acrid chuckle as he rises back up to aiming position. "Oya'chaak! Now we're talkin'--"
Mydas fires off another red bolt from his sniper rifle at the guards surrounding the boss Klatoonian, but it misses and punctures the bulkhead again.
Kryll grumbles to himself inside his helmet, and holsters the pistol while grabbing his rifle from its sling. While doing so, he moves to a position to provide cover to Netep and Kasia, making himself a larger threat than they are as they seek cover. <"Keep your heads down, I have you covered"> then the blaster is readied, charged and leveled at the leader of this party. <<Drop the leader, his chaff will break and cut their losses.>> he says over the comms to those connected to him.
A muffled expletive in Mando'a escapes Ca'tra as the tough she downed does the near impossible and wings her while she is under cover. With an effort she pulls her leg in to tuck it out of range of more fire and rests against the crate breathing hard between gritted teeth. Two or three minutes pass like this while around her the others open fire. <Kryph, check in> she calls over coms.
In the return fire from the men surrounding the boss Klatoonian, Mydas is struck several more times in the upper chest, forcing him to stagger backwards, and then fall backwards with a hard, resounding crash upon the deck. He chuckles, and then takes another hard breath before losing consciousness.Anger helps her accuracy it’d seem. She pushes herself up with a grunt from behind her cover to fire a full blast straight into her assailant’s face and then searches for her next target.
"IS IT OVER??" Netep yells over the noise when the blessed form of Kasia comes nearer to share her space. Her left hand has dug the pistol out of its holster and toggled the thing to stun, as per their instructions. Even if she doesn't look like she's sure about using it. Muri wriggles around onto her back and stares up at the catwalk overhead, remembering the presence of DROIDS and whatnot up there. "IF shavit /really/ hits turbo, I'm making a run for the pit! Give our mercs enough time to cut out to the aft corridor and forward, then can seal off the hold and vent those .... those.." ah, she just can't muster the racial slur. "Foomba fraks."
Kasia is happy to share the space with Muri, glancing up as Kryll tries to serve as further human shield for them. "Yeah, if it goes bad I'll go with you, between the two of us we'll be able to get there." She sounds pretty sure of that. There's a pause long enough to level her blaster at one of the toughs, squinting a smidge before she fores. Gives a little gasp, and then switches her blaster over to stun. Whoops. "As I was saying, we should definitely do that if things go bad, or if the opportunity presents itself.”
Den Barada is a tough fellow, but a powered fist to the jaw will lay out most life forms. To the canine's credit, the Boss Klat regains his wits quickly enough to roll out of the way of Tharyn's stomps, fighting back to his feet and now swinging his sword defensively, rather than to injure, all while howling at his fellows.
Only two of his four are still standing, the other pair lie unconscious. One of the toughs blasts Gryph onto his Mandalorian back, while the other throws an axe at Kryll. An AXE. Who throws an axe?? It lodges in the crate beside Kryll, harmlessly.
J9 chatters on, blithely: <All of you who are listening to me, b-b-begin listening to me now as I s-say that now is not the time to be eating. S-s-stop eating as if it izzz dinner time, and put down your spoonzzz.> While a Klatooinian dialect patch might be necessary in the future, whatever Den Barada was *actually* saying has the effect of ceasing fire from his gang. One clawed hand is held up to Sajin and Tharyn, his sword still held up defensively. Once his tongue has licked a trail of blood off his own jowel, the big Klat growls, "Den Barada has reconsidered after a good fight.”
Perhaps Sajin is a little slow on the uptake as to what's going on, but one thing is for sure the Hapan is in pain and not happy. He pulls the quickdraw gripped iconic DL-44 from his hip and just squeezes the trigger rapidly three times in the direction of the two goons still up. <<"What's that? I can't hear you. You give up? IS that what you said?">> He levels the pistol at Dan and waits. <<"Then you best get your friends and get the Krif out of my sight before you piss me off even more.">> rawr~
Well, now the fight has been resolved, and quicker than Tharyn would have liked! The big bastard was faster than Tharyn had expected, and even his upgraded nature can't be properly applied if the brain guiding it miscalculates. His is such a brain, alas, but at least his helmet can wall away the look of irritation that crosses his features in the moment. After all, what else is there to say that Sajin and his blaster hasn't already?Instead, he approaches Ca'tra, since Kryll is over checking on his employer.
<< Doctor, >> he says to her, << Do you need, um, uh, assistance? >>
Despite the droids blithering translation, the quiet that descends on the hold after the frenzy of the fight gives Ca'tra an opportunity to lift her head. The top of her helmet rises above the crate, satisfied she uses its top for leverage to stand to her full height. She considers Tharyns's offer, making a negative gesture with her hand. <Not enough room here for you to help me. Appreciated, Tharyn. I'll be fine.> Favoring her wounded leg she limps to join the others.
<Once we are on our way, I will treat anyone that has taken a wound. Shall we?" She directs her last words to the Trade Union representative.
"I'mf--fine," Muri rocks a couple times from side to side before grunting forward into a super unathletic 'crunch'. Blaster still pointed up in the air, then at Kasia's hair, then quickly into her own lap when the former is realized. Safety...on? "Don't think you're getting out of flight lessons that easily," she winks at the hunter's masked helmet and stuffs the pistol back into its home.
It's with a little more difficulty that Muri extricates herself from that wedged hiding place between crate and bulkhead. Her left heel's gone and caught on a tethering bracket. Like, /really/ caught. Honestly, Muri, how do you live?
Nine seconds later, the Traders Union 'rep' as we'll call her is standing, shoeless, before the beaten Den Bara. "Soon," she answers the Mando and motions to the debtor. "He gets eight minutes to gather up whatever precious personals he's got aboard this bird before he toss him out. Half the time I would have granted, had he cooperated in the first damn place." She scowls, then motions for an escort to follow her onward. "I'm going to run a diagnostics check. Tharyn..." a sudden thought halts her in her tracks and she twists around. "You didn't uh...there's no accessories still pegged to the outer hull. Is there?”
When the eating-- er, fighting stops, Kasia cautiously straightens and steps out from behind her hiding place, giving Kryll a firm *thump-thump* of appreciation on his back. "As you can see," she makes a two-handed gesture, though one of those hands is still holding her hand-cannon, so it might also be a wee bit menacing. Such is life. "I wasn't kidding when I said that talking was the preferred alternative. I am sorry for that fool," she shoots a look over at Mydas, who is down and has gotten enough punishment for interrupting her earlier. "But I'm glad that you've reconsidered now." She goes quiet as the single-shoed Muri steps forward and speaks, and then she gives Den Barada a significant look. "You heard the lady, get your things and get on with it. We haven't got all day."
Den Barada gives Sajin an unmistakably 'Hapan, you for real?' look. "After MUCH CONSIDERATION. I will accept the offer of your leader in the dress. Den Barada will take his people and property off the ship and you can have it." One of the Klatooinians accepts the axe back from Kryll with a pleased grunt, and a muttered, "Good fight, Human." A clap on Kryll's shoulder punctuates the words. His fellow Tough isn’t so merry, grumbling at Sajin and briskly rubbing an arm struck by a stun bolt in an effort to restore feeling.
The Klatooinians (including a further two females and a child who emerge once the shooting is over) will drag out their unconscious fellows and hastily begin grabbing anything of value to take with them in eight minutes. And just like that, the job is accomplished. With no loss of life, and only a few dozen superficial blaster burns.
