Session export: [Solyiast Surrounded] ‘Shipping’ troubles

“Thirty eight then?” Tisto smirked as he started to walk toward his ship. “Alright then, you handle covering fire. Unless you aren’t the best shot in this small part of the galaxy.”

Carrow’s Landing had not been his initial choice after returning from the war, but it had been one that was then free of this nonsense. He had been somewhat shocked to learn that everything had spread.

It’s going faster than initially suspected. I had hoped to have time to work my way into a criminal organization to start moving funds around more openly.

Tisto couldn’t help but curse internally at the timing of it all. Months of planning wasted by the sudden rise of the population. Perhaps he had been too effective over in Kaal. But that had been on a much smaller scale than all of Solyait.

“Excuse me sir, you aren’t supposed to—“ the first of the guards in Tisto’s path was cut off as he was pulled towards the Kiffar.

Tisto pulled his left arm back, lashing out with a right hook connecting with the man’s jaw. Electricity sparked out from his glove as he did. The other guard near him looked stunned for a moment before going to his radio.

“All hands we are under attack in the south wing bay!”

Chikma had been called small his whole life. Non-Ewok pretenders who couldn’t claim true Mandalorian heritage, that one slimy Hutt, andrival gang members all underestimated him, or at the very least told off-color jokes that grated at his pride. Now he faced a Vatali trooper calling him “little furball.”

Taking advantage of the guard’s distraction, Chikma unholstered his blaster pistol and, as part of the same fluid motion, sent five red-hot bolts of plasma barreling at the sentry’s torso. Overkill, perhaps, but he deserved it. Returning the pistol to its rightful spot on his belt as he waddled over, the Ewok grasped the wooden spear he carried everywhere he went. As he had dozens of times now, he plunged the spear’s pointy end into the face of the man who had crumpled to the ground. This was the way of his people: if at all possible, the final blow must come from the trees of Endor.

The sound of more blaster fire echoed from further down the landing bay. Probably the partners Magda Venn had briefed him about. The smuggler who recently had become his boss had other places to be, but her instructions were clearr. Take advantage of the chaos. There were profits to be had.

He thumbed his jetpack to life, kicking off the ground with a low hum to arc toward the sight of a Kiffar throwing punches and a lanky human pointing a slugthrower. Cutting the thrusters, he dropped the last few meters hard, his boots thudding against the duracrete.

“Yaa-yaah,” he pronounced the Ewokese greeting with a raised paw.

Ardsie flew over the town. More aptly, however, she was being carried across the sky by a robo-jetpack. How can anyone be effective while flying this thing? Ardsie wondered to herself, thankful of her foresight to put her hair up into a bun.

Below, the cityscape below nearly passed by in a blur. She slowed the jetpack down, nearly to a hover as she allowed herself to scan the area. As she spun, a dark speck in the distance fell from nearly eye level to the ground.

Now that looks like something I need to check out, she thought. It had occurred to her that this was likely to be asking for trouble, but she put that idea to the back of her mind as curiosity took the better of her.

She quickly made a mental note of the location before she too dropped just above the rooflines. She kicked on the jetpack again, this time at a slower pace. There was no need to alert… whomever was working out of there.

As the human woman approached the open hangar bay to see two dead men, two mandalorians (one of which was of a shorter than typical stature), and a jedi, it all immediately became clear: this was a front.

Without much of a thought, Ardsie dropped to the hangar deck behind the trio, pulling her twin BlasTech A280-CFE Blaster Pistols from her hips, pointing them at the two taller smugglers.

“I want in.”

Tisto looked at the changing situation and sighed. “Guess that’s my own fault for dealing with professionals here. No one has any sense of fun. Anyway my ship is close. Any one of you fires a blaster near it and I’ll break your legs.”

The Kiffar took a breath and felt the Force respond to his movement. It roared to life like the engine of a swoop bike, filling him with heat. He raised his right hand, pointing two fingers forward. He willed an invisible barrier into existence, and started to walk down the corridor. Keeping the heat moving through him took some extra effort, but nothing he had not been doing for years at this point. He turned the first corner, smiling as two guard turned towards him.

Crimson blasts sparkeled just and inch from his fingers as they collided with the barrier. The continued fire strained against the heat, and Tisto’s hand began to shake as he drew closer. Each step, each blast, each heartbeat threatened to break the thin line between the boxer and death. Unfortunately for the guards, it lasted just long enough for Tisto to walk right up to them. It fell away with a right hook, catching one of the guards in the face. The other did not have long before a left uppercut took them in the jaw.

“See, this is how you do things,” He said to no one in particular. “Skill, strength, and no worthless weapons like a blaster.”

That act of arrogance was not far from the truth, but he hoped those around him would think less of him for it. It was difficult to tell who among this group could really be trusted, especially on a crew of criminals. Even the one asset he expected, he did not put much trust in. He relies too much on that blaster of his.

Ardsie was apprehensive, to say the least. The taller Mandalorian was too unpredictable, too much of an unknown quantity to her, for the situation to make her drop the guard that she so often put up. But money is money. She reminded herself, thinking of all the times in the past where even life’s basic necessities had proven too expensive. She had worked her way into this position and earned every credit of it by delivering on the tasks no one else was willing to take up.

At least the Jedi seemed to be able to command control over him pretty well, though. She tucked behind the others, aware of the scattering of blaster fire arriving from a variety of directions. The former scavenger fired a pair of shots back in the general direction of incoming fire. In truth, she was allowing the others to do most of the work, firing a precise shot here and there so as to keep up appearances.

As the volleys of blaster fire settled down, the hostile droids quickly dispatched, the party regrouped, decidedly for a quick rest before continuing on with the mission. She looked up at the tall Mando, then to the others so as not to let her expressions spoil her thoughts. Having not learned any names, and there being a distinct lack of faces showing in the rest of the group, Ardsie decided she didn’t particularly like the tall Mando, mainly because he’d spoken first. The former scavenger closed her eyes for a second and breathed in, conjuring the crisp image of a hand flipping the bird, before pushing it over to the mind of her new coworker. Of course, she meant nothing by it. Just a little bit of fun. She thought to herself, doing her best to keep a straight face.

It took all his skills to get this far, but standing meters away from his goal, there only stood the final security fences before a young Mandalorian by the name of Cole Train could hopefully steal his first ship. He had eyes on this old, beaten-up Hammerhead corvette. It looked like it had some damage, but the eager young mando believed he had enough skills to take off in such a large vessel and find a crew.

He wanted to join the Okami clan on a nearby moon, but they rejected him for not having any deeds or bounties to his credit and being a arrogant individual. He came here to prove to the Clan that he shouldn’t have to beg to join them; it should be them welcoming him with open arms and a command of his own.

So with this goal in mind, Cole set about his task of trying to slice into the final security gate, and he was making good progress when his instincts made him stop what he was doing just in time for him to hear the door he left the building and locked behind him get unlocked and opened.

Turning around and quickly drawing his pistol, the young man pointed at the odd group that was now staring at him, almost as dumbfounded as he was.

Before him stood a male Kiffar, a human female, another Mandalorian, and what seemed to be their pet teddy bear dressed in Mandalorian armor. It was the small bear that took Cole by surprise more then else.

When all of a sudden it looked at him and spoke…

As the scrawny human swung his blaster toward the group, Chikma caught the flinch in his body language; Cole’s stance shifted, taking half a step back as though to gauge whether the Ewok was a threat. For Chikma’s part, he’d seen the same silent confusion hundreds of times. The part had been played by cantina gawkers, rival gang enforcers, even the guard he’d mowed down only moments ago. That the same condescension now came from another pretender to the sky warriors’ line only enflamed his indignation.

Chikma didn’t reach for his pistol, though. He didn’t need to. Not yet, anyway. He stepped forward two paces, moving in a manner somewhere between a waddle and a stomp. Then he thumped his own chestplate and jabbed a stubby, gloved finger at Cole’s helmet.

“Yub yub! Weechu lurdo!” he barked. Go, go! You’re a loser! Turning on the ball of his feet, he directed his ire at the other pretender next. He jabbed the same finger at Valin, then back to himself, before shaking his head. “Tyehtgeethin weechu. Den shetai.” You’re a stranger, not a warrior.

Though Chikma spoke frenzied Ewokese, Cole, Valin, Tisto, and Ardsie had no trouble understanding him. His pantomimes and emoting were just that good.

“Nude-la shetai uuta meechoo.” I am a sky warrior, he continued.

After a dramatic pause, the Ewok fingered the beskar pendant hanging from his neck by a cord of hand-spun twine. Folding his arms and lifting his chin as a sort of punctuation, Chikma peered from behind his T-shaped visor to Valin, then back at Cole, wordlessly daring either of them to disagree.

He might be small. A teddy bear, even. But wrong about who could claim the title sky warrior? Never.

Stunned and still staring at the small creature, Cole was about to speak when the loud shriek from the alarm system turning on instantly broke the tension. Turning his attention to the lock he was trying to pick, he yelled, “Dammit, you broke my concentration, and they locked me out. Can you go turn off the alarm and cover me while I get his lock open so I can get into a ship and get out of here?”

The Kiffar shouted something to the other but stayed behind as the other Mandalorian and human ran back inside to turn off the alarm and cover the rear. The little one and the Kiffar stay behind with the red haired kiffar moved closer to him and simply said “I’m not sure what ship your here for but if can get that open and need a ride you can come with us on my ship’ Cole took a second to look at him and then look at the ship he was pointing at and it was the same Hammerhead he wanted to steal for himself.

Quickly turning and focusing back on the lock as the alarm instantly went silent. “If you’re the captain of that ship and are willing to help me earn my place in Calm Okami, then I would join your crew, but I am Honorbound to tell you that I was hoping to steal that ship to make a name for myself. So if I can’t take it for myself, I would offer my services to you for the time being to regain my honor to you.” Just as he finished speaking, the lock clicked open, and the Kiffar offered his hand to the young Mandalorian. “Deal, my name is Tisto Kingang, and welcome to the crew of the Weeping Woman.”

In only a few short minutes, the strange band of people all boarded the corvette, and just as a large group of security forces arrived trying to stop the ship, they were able to take off and head out of the atmosphere.