Session export: There's a New Ewok In Town
Magda scowled as another thunder clap broke overhead, drowning out the sound of both the steady rain hitting the duracrete and the shuttle, descending slowly into an open-air spaceport ring in Carrow’s Landing.
“C’mon Vash…” Magda implored. “Why do I have to be here for this? I could be not here.”
Vasha snorted at her partner, bemused. “Because you’re the boss, Huttslime,” she chuckled. “You inspire the recruits!”
Magda rolled her eyes as the shuttle touched down and stepped out of the shelter of the outer ring and into the falling rain. Her shoulders ached from the whatever-induced coma she had been reduced to the previous evening. But still, she rested the palm of her hand on the heel of the blaster pistol at her hip. Couldn’t be too careful after last time.
“Mekka sure chose an inconvenient time to send us reinforcements.” Magda thought of the historic storm season battering its way across Daleem. She thought about the already complex politicking between the Weequay and not-Weequay factions of her gang. Mostly she thought of how she’d rather be at the Sandbar, drinking, eating, and playing cards. Nobody would ever convince her that morning is not acceptable drinking snd card time.
“Yeah, don’t tell him that,” Vasha responded, stepping forward and resting a hand on Magda’s shoulder. Whereas Magda looked sore and haggard and like she’d rather be anywhere else, a hungry alertness had crept into Vasha’s eyes. It always did when fresh blood arrived: new sentients to put in their places, sometimes violently. An excited chill crawled up her spine.
Another burst of thunder from overhead. The shuttle’s ramp descended.
Reltud stepped off the shuttle, already grimacing at the rain. He was a nautolan. That meant he liked to swim, not to be constantly soggy.
“SE-2, remind me again why we took a job on this godforsaken, rain-soaked hellhole?”
SE-2, turned, slowly, almost excruciatingly slowly, until it was facing Reltud. “I believe, master, that I recommended, repeatedly, against an eviroment where my systems will be exposed to excessive humidity. Your response, unless my memory is faulty, was, ‘It’ll be fine. Stop trying to tell me what to do. I own you, you stupid, backtalking droid’. Endquote.”
Reltud sighed. “I swear I’m going to remove your vocabulator. I keep saying it. I’m going to do it,” Reltud muttered. “Right. Where’s this client?”
The Chevlex landed on the port ring and the small occupant disembarked. Clad in a bikini and sarong of obsidian and contrasting snow, she tossed a handful of credits on a nearby workspace and hooked a thumb at the matte black ship.
“Refuel her and give her a bath. I’ll double the fee if she’s spotless when I’m ready to leave.”
Without waiting for an answer, the imperious young woman left the pad and made her way through the spaceport. There would be a watering hole around here somewhere and it was a long trip where she was headed.
“Need supplies for the trip. Food stores, drinks, med supplies just in case.” She shook the bag she wore and listened to the happy clink of credits. “Maybe I can play dice for a discount.”
She looked up and down the street for a moment, looking up at the sky that rained on her.
A soft smile graced her lips. “What a perfect day.”
Chikma had been watching the sky from the viewport almost the whole journey. At not quite three feet tall, the furry figure might prove easy to miss, especially in a crowded shuttle. That he proudly wore miniature Mandalorian armor, though…that had earned him a few stares and snickers.
He remained still the whole journey. He’d been sent to meet two women who would become his bosses; when he saw Magda and Vasha chattering away at the bottom of the ramp awaiting the group, he removed his helmet and pattered toward the pair he assumed to be sisters. When he reached them, the Ewok planted his feet, drew himself up to proper posture, and thumped a closed fist twice against his own chest plate before resting his hand against the sandy fur of his face. “Yub, yub!”
An XJ-6 Airspeeder screamed down the street passing the shuttle just after the Ewok crossed the street. Following it a Mandalorian in silver and blue armor was flying on a jetpack.
Valin pressed a few button on his left Vambrace and aimed it at the speeder, a near continuous stream of blaster bolts began blasting the back of the Airspeeder. As one of the engines gave out the speeder’s driver began to lose control and veered off the road, crashing in the sand.
Valin landed on the speeder’s half-buried hood and pointed his vambraces at the man there. “Now I don’t like this next part, so please don’t make me do it.”
Getting the hint the man took his blaster from his belt and threw it in the sand. He raised his hands in defeat and Valin said, “Good man, now just stay still.”
Valin extended his right vambrace’s vibroblade. Leaving it deactivated from the vibration he put the blade up to the Zabrak-Human’s forehead and made a small cut. The man almost immediately passed out and Valin hoisted him over his shoulder.
The rain continued as the shuttle’s ramp descended, pitter-pattering on the sanded floor of the landing ring.
One by one the usual suspects filed out, down the ramp. Rodian. Weequay. Nikto. Twi’lek. Human. Each looked the part: scarred and armed with a fat duffel bag slung over a shoulder.
Magda smirked at Vasha, who was all business, assessing each pirate as he or she sauntered past. Every one gave her a subtle nod as they followed the nav waypoints on their datapad, which would take them to the Bilge, the seedy spacer bar across the street where they would be briefed and barracked by Grix, Vasha’s Dug lieutenant.
“Alderaan’s boom, Vash, did you seriously make me come all the way down here so they could nod at us on their way inside? It’s raining!”
Vasha’s scowl had turned into a confused frown.
“Wait… Mags, one is missing…”
From behind the pair, came a sharp and insistent “Yub yub!”
“Hutt’s teats!” Magda yelped as she jerked forward, hand already on the hilt of her blaster.
But Vasha was already laughing.
“There he is!”
The little being stood not three feet tall. He was clad from head to toe in the most expensive armor Magda had ever seen. Armor which was bristling with weaponry.
Vasha wiped the grin off her face as the furry creature clicked his legs together and thumped his gauntlet against his breastplate in salute.
Wearing her most-serious-face-possible, Vasha returned the gesture. She and the Ewok stood like that for some seconds until Vasha reached over and clapped Magda, still staring dumbfounded, on the side of the head.
“You’re insulting his honor, Huttslime.”
“Uh, okay. Sorry,” she replied, copying the gesture.
The Ewok relaxed as Vasha continued.
“This is Chikma the Mandalorian. And he comes… highly, highly recommended.”
Valin walking by heard mention of a Mandalorian and turned his attention over to the three figures. “A Mandalorian you say?” He looked down at the small bipedal bear wearing Mandalorian armor, “A foundling jorso'ran Mandalorian, glad to meet you. I am of Clan Valin, what clan were you taken into?”