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Blind Equilibrium

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Fiona regarded Bubbles; the woman’s head swiveled back and forth between Dash and herself, a look of consternation on her face. After several long moments of thought her face brightened measurably. Moving to where Fiona stood, she reached out and patted the armor plating over the troopers stomach.

“So quick to say goodbye? I’m pretty sure I owe you dinner, so what’s the rush? How about it, uh?” The Togruta said in a mocking tone, a smirk on her face.

Without another word Bubbles turned and fiddled with something, resulting in the ramp of the ship lowering. She walked up into the ship, not looking back, but hesitating slightly at the top as if nearly giving into the desire to look. Then she disappeared from view as she stepped fully into the ship.

At the mention of dinner, Fiona felt her stomach growl slightly. She hadn’t had a bite to eat since before she had gone on watch several hours before, and she was starting to feel the stirrings of hunger. With a shrug towards Dash, Fiona boarded the ship, removing her helmet as she went.

Upon entering the ship, she saw Bubbles being harangued by a distraught looking Twi’lek. Her and Dash’s entrance drew the attention of the bedraggled Twi’lek. Eyeing something about Fiona’s person with a desperate air, she near scrambles toward the trooper, at the end pulling free the radio from its holster.

Fiona regards Bubbles over the top of the Twi’lek’s head. Bubbles looking on the verge of intervening as the Twi’lek woman starts shouting near incoherently into the radio. With a roll of her eyes to indicate that she knows the woman isn’t a threat, Fiona speaks to no one in particular.

”I’ll just show myself to the galley.”

As she walks out of the common room, only one thought runs through her mind besides the thought of her soon to be full stomach.

Karking great… more headtails and all the trouble they seem to bring with them today.

Fiona wanders the ship, making several wrong turns before finally locating the galley. Opening a door she is rewarded with the chill box filled with all manner of culinary treats. Grabbing up the makings of a sandwich and what appeared to be some kind of dessert pie; she takes her spoils to the table and sets about treating herself to a reward for a job well done.
Captain Bubbles

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

A minute ago, Bubbles had no idea how to proceed and needed time to come up with a plan. However, she now felt like she couldn’t spring into action fast enough. Everything had just happened all at once, with Shan’in getting a hold of Crox, and Boltz being able to locate his master. Bubbles couldn’t believe Thatch was still alive and with every second she wasted, she felt his chances of survival were dropping.

She had been hesitating on what to do about Fiona and Dash, but there was no time to let them out. They would just have to be unwilling passengers until the situation was under control. Bubbles was rather happy that the small trooper had gone off to the galley and was not within earshot; she surely would have put up a fight with what she was about to do.

She turned to Shan’in and started barking orders “Go to the med bay, grab pain killers and medpacs and bring them back out here. We don’t know how injured they may be. Go, go! Hurry!”

Dash was looking rather unhappy about the situation, but Bubbles didn’t give her a chance to argue “Dash, I’m going to pay you well for your cooperation, understand? Ready the common area for takeoff, I need buckles and straps on all these seats. I suspect it’s going to be a wild ride…”

Bubbles turned and ran to the cockpit. She prayed silently to no one in particular before warming up the engines. She hoped Finx had put everything back properly, or she would never make it in time. She didn’t especially have faith in the scruffy smuggler’s ability to repair anything and Bubbles knew how the saying went… “Never trust a man with anything, especially not your engine.”

She felt such relief when she heard the familiar noises and vibrations of her ship coming to life. She knew she would get in big trouble for this, but there was no time for takeoff procedures. She had to leave now and she would deal with the authorities later. Bubbles had no illusions that it would be an easy rescue, even less an easy escape.

The Mischievous Ferry jerked upwards and she wondered for a moment what was going through Fiona’s head and what her face must look like. The thought was quickly dismissed when she spotted the green smoke from the flare, matching its coordinates with the ones Boltz had provided her. Bubbles proceeded at a not so safe speed, heading straight for the distress signal, feeling pressed for time and thinking only about the safety of her crew.


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Blind Equilibrium

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Fiona sat at a table in the messdeck. Strewn before her on the table lay the discarded crust of a sandwich and a container that once contained some form of sweet dessert pie. A dew cake now sat on the table, a hefty sized piece missing. She sat with fork in hand, staring distantly at the slice of bread before her, slowly pushing pieces around her plate, lost in thought.

Didn’t get a chance to get any pics of those inmates I took down… The young woman thought dejectedly. Now my count is going to be off…

Her brow furrowed at the notion. A thought came to the trooper a moment later, causing her to visibly brighten.

I’ll just go to the morgue and collect my trophies after all this is settled down! I should be able to identify my kills… the rest of the schuttas stationed here couldn’t hit the broadside of a sandcrawler anyway! It’ll be easy!

Satisfied the dilemma was resolved, her appetite returned. She looked at the food before her with returned zeal. I’ll just finish my dessert, make sure Bubbles is all settled in, and be on my way!

As she was about to drive her fork into the dessert, a growl and rumble emanated from deep within the bowels of the ship. Startled by the sudden sound and vibration, Fiona looked around trying to locate the source.

The ship jerked suddenly, knocking Fiona from her seat at the table and sending the dew cake flying across the galley, splattering against the wall. Picking her self up, she looked about the implements hanging in the galley swinging this way and that, at least until settling down as the inertial dampers kicked in.

Her gaze pauses momentarily over the morose scene of the wasted sweets before full realization hits her. Grabbing up the rest of her armor and her weapons, Fiona rushes from the galley to look for Bubbles, expletives streaming freely from her as she goes.

”Karking hell! What in the name of the Scorekeeper is that frakkin’ woman getting me dragged into now?! Fee you fool, why didn’t you just go straight to the rack after watch?!”
Markis. D Thatch

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Thatch's breathing became slower and shallower with each passing minute. The blood from his internal woulds still being coughed up, his stump of an arm hard been cauterized from the lightsaber strike along with the slashes across his chest. The gaping wound in his thigh from a piece of shrapnel oozed blood and was was sure that the tendons and muscles in his legs had been strained to the point of near tearing. But through it all Thatch managed a smile. He saw Alkhet pass out without hearing the rest of the conditions of his surrender. "To bad Alkhet...I have a mountain of gold in my duffel bag...more than enough to pay for my bounty..."

Thatch coughed again and more blood seeped down his face. Thatch attempted to move his right arm, it seemed so heavy at the moment. He was reaching for his dagger...but its distance seemed to be increasing from him. Thatch leaned to his right, jut past Alkhet's body, trying to claw his dagger free from his severed arm. As he reached, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell into darkness.


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Crox Rava

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

At last Crox made his way to the shattered window where Alkhet and Thatch's duel had taken place. Everything was quiet, and two battered and broken figures lay sprawled on the ground outside. The Nautolan grunted a curse as he vaulted the window sill and raced to Thatch's side. Both men were unconscious at best. Crox stumbled as he approached, noticing with alarm that a tiny droid was hovering at Thatch's side. It appeared to be little more than a floating bacta syringe with a spray nozzle and a pair of blue lights for eyes. He noted with mingled horror and relief that Thatch's arm had been severed, and that the little droid had known better than to spray the area lest the wound heal over. Thatch would no doubt prefer that someone at least attempt to make him whole first.

Crox thumbed the radio. "Bubbles, I've got him. He's hurt badly and... well, his arm's off. I'm no doctor but the cut looks clean except for being scorched. I hope your med bay is stocked up. Lock in on this signal and come get us, won't you? And Finx, if you're listening grab that skiff you mentioned and head... North of my current position for rendezvous. We're going to need to pull a 'barn swallow'."

"Talkin' ain't doin', Blue. I don't recall us ever gettin' a chance to try that one for real?"


"You're just mad you didn't end up flying the barn."
Crox managed a grin. He had a habit of implementing slapdash plans when things got hairy, and Finx had often made comments regarding the Nautolan's anatomy relative to that of a pack animal. "You get to carry the bantha sacks this time, Cap."

Finx chuckled over the radio. "I'll have to borrow some pants, Blue. See ya in a bit."

Crox removed the false lining of his coat and gingerly wrapped Thatch's lost arm inside. Then he took the rest of his coat and tied the arms and tails around Thatch's body as a sort of harness. There wouldn't be room enough for the Mischievous Ferry to set down in the courtyard where he stood. The two smugglers would have to be lifted out.

A few minutes later the Ferry appeared above the courtyard, her lower hatch open with Shan'in leaning out over the hatch. A tow cable lowered and Crox looped the makeshift harness over the hook before clipping on himself. Up went the cable with the two men dangling, and Shan'in helped Crox carry Thatch to the medical bay.

"Stay with him, please. We've one more thing to do."

Shan'in nodded, a smile spread across her pretty face despite Thatch's rather grisly state where he lay on the table. There was also the armored human woman from the security feed. What was she doing here? It would have to wait. Crox spared a brief nod to the trooper before heading back to the cargo hold.

He punched the intercom. "Alright Bubbles. Did I ever tell you about my 'barn swallow' maneuver?"

"Crox Rava, if you think I'm going to let that scruffy-looking son-of-a-sarlac land his little skiff karking backward in my ship while she's flying with her skirts up -"


"So I did tell you about it, then. That will make this easier." This was more fun than it should have been. Crox had always wanted to try this one out. He activated the forward loading ramp and wrapped his left arm and leg into a hanging cargo net to avoid being blown off his feet. "Alright, Finx. Maintain course and hold steady!"

As the ramp lowered it revealed a hoverskiff ahead, matching speed and course with the Ferry. It appeared large enough for eight men to stand on, but at the moment there was only Finx standing at its helm and a motionless humanoid laying on the deck. Crox thumbed the radio once more."Alright, now reduce speed just a notch, Finx..."

"Karkin' hell, Crox!" Finx spared a look over his shoulder, his prized hat flapping in the wind as the chin-strap threatened to strangle him where he stood. The skiff drew closer and closer, and finally skidded into the cargo hold with sparks flying everywhere. The engine had been knocked out by the impact, and poor Zeeto's unconscious form was sent flying across the hull as Finx held to the wreck of the skiff for dear life. The cyborg rookie flew like a durasteel ragdoll to the back of the hold and planted himself head-first into a pile of unmarked crates.

"You're a natural, Bubbles. Now take us away from this fancy rock, will you? Oh, and uhh... one more headed to the med bay!"

This day was wonderful.


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Blind Equilibrium

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Fiona attempted to navigate the corridors of the ship, trying to find her way to the cockpit of the ship where Bubbles was sure to be. The ship rumbled as she turned through a door, hoping to find a way to the control area when she was greeted instead by what must have been the ship’s medical bay.

Professional curiosity overtook the desire to discover what was going on. Perusing the various machines and implements, Fiona found herself suitably impressed with what was there, she might have no eye for ships and their ilk, but medicine was her passion. Spotting a tank attached to the wall filled with a viscous bluish liquid, she moves to investigate more closely.

”Well I’ll be damned, even has a miniature bacta tank. Must have had some pretty serious backers at some point.” She says aloud, now thoroughly impressed.

The ship jerks to halt, shuddering slightly as its forward momentum ceases. The change calls Fiona back to her current circumstances. Looking around she spies a communications terminal set into the wall nearest the door and moves to it. A general lockout is evident on the system at a glance.

After a moment of thought, the petite blonde retrieves her datapad once again from its storage. Running a line to the terminal, she has the security protocols sliced in a matter of moments, circumventing and temporarily disabling a number of clever fail-safes in the process. Locating the external communications array, the soldier send a message through secure channels to the local military command to seek direction and inform them of her current predicament.

Attn: Tython Republic Military Command
Sub: CPL Arumat, Fiona

Aboard civilian transport. Unauthorized flight. Unknown intent. Potentially imbedded. Request Direction.


Distantly she hears the whir of motors as something occurs in other areas of the ship, though it only runs across of the edge of her awareness as she focuses intently on the blinking cursor on the datapad.

The cursor suddenly dances across the screen, leaving a brief message in its wake.

Re: CPL Arumat, Fiona
Imbed. Observe and report.


Backing out of the system, she erases all signs of her entrance and puts the datapad away. She has only a moment to contemplate the scope of her new orders when the sound of rushed steps are heard, followed shortly by a blue Nautolan and the flighty Twi’lek who had grabbed her radio earlier. Between them they carried another. The Mirialan who only a few hours prior had his shotgun pointed at Fiona’s own face.

They placed the inert form on one of the two treatment tables in the room. The Nautolan then placing a cloth wrapped item on the table beside the body with great care before turning to speak to the Twi’lek.

"Stay with him, please. We've one more thing to do."

They then shared a smile. The Nautolan shifted to regard Fiona a moment before dipping his head slightly in greeting before turning and walking from the room.

The petite trooper moved closer to the table in order to examine the supine body, her orders to try and imbed with this group at the forefront of her mind. Those orders taking precedence over her desire to kill him for the threat earlier. The Twi’lek moved to intercept, but Fiona brushed her aside without a glance.

”Unless you have medical training somewhere in that bundle of tatters you are wearing, I suggest you let me take a look before he’s just another cold body.”

Not listening for a response, Fiona begins to examine the numerous wounds, creating a triage list as she does.

”Looks like that shrapnel in his thigh might have hit an artery, high priority… rasping shallow breathing with blood in the spittle and caked around the nose, likely a pneumothorax, another high priority… left arm amputated cleanly… wound cauterized… painful, but not life threatening… lower prioirity." She muttered to herself as she checked the injuries.

The petite trooper begins to doff her armor in preparation to begin treatment, stripping down to her armorweave bodyglove. Armor removed, she slips on a sterile smock and turns to indignant looking Twi’lek, rattling off a series of directions.

”You! I don’t have time to learn your name right now, but unless you want a good chance of him popping up and trying to kill us if he regains consciousness during treatment, strap him down to the table tightly.” The ship jerks to life once more causing the two women to nearly lose their balance. ”Not to mention keep him from falling off the table when I am digging around in his leg or chest. Then take that bundle I assume is his arm, and find the medical chill box and put it inside, hopefully it may have been a short enough time to be able to reattach it… even if it means his left arm will be a bit shorter from cutting the cooked flesh off. Move girl! Move!

As the Twil’lek moved to secure the Mirialan, Thatch if Fiona recalled correctly, the now surgically suited trooper started setting about preparing all the tools for the coming task. Pulling the medkit from a wall, she entered in the universal medical override for the kit allowing her full access to its inventory.

Forceps, hemostats, laser scalpels, and all manner of other implements were laid out in short order. It never crossed her mind to activate the medical droid that was sure to be in a medcenter this well appointed. Fiona never trusted the things compared to a flesh and blood comrade who wouldn’t let you die, as opposed to a droid who didn’t care further than their programming dictated.

Fiona sets about removing the shrapnel from the man's leg now that he was fully restrained. The hunk of metal pulled free with a thick squelching sound followed by a geyser of blood that spattered her smock and face before she could put a flexclamp in place, stemming the source of the stream.

Time became a non-entity as she worked, first to seal the artery and ensure no other shrapnel remained. Then to seal the wound with sythflesh until it could naturally knit. Sounds of muffled explosions and the crackling sound of distant laser fire occasionally intruded on the space. The blonde medic adjusted to any jerking or rocking of the ship without sparing a conscious thought.

The Twi’lek had moved to a position to hand implements when requested. She spoke occasionally, but it was lost on Fiona who was lost in her task. Completing her repairs to the leg, the bloodied trooper was preparing to drain her patient’s lungs of blood and begin working on his chest cavity wounds when she was interrupted by new arrivals.

The blue Nautolan had returned with a rather unsavory looking character, a burden stretched between them. They struggled beneath the weight of a that burden, a humanoid form that appeared as much machine as flesh, before dumping him unceremoniously on the second table. As she stepped away from her first patient to triage the new comer, a slight heaviness came across her.

Feels like the artificial grav just kicked on… must be in space now. She thought idly for a moment.

Nodding to the Nautolan, and eyeing his seedy looking companion distrustfully, Fiona looked over her newest patient. Aside from some scuffs, the faint smell of ozone, and some minor looking electrical burns he seemed uninjured, if unconscious. Walking to where her armor was piled on the floor, she retrieves an item from her kit and tosses it to the Nautolan.

”He doesn’t look too bad, but I don’t know him or how he got like this, so how about attaching that restraining bolt to him ‘til I’m finished with this slab of meat over here?” She turns and walks back to Thatch’s body and neatly cuts a hole into his side, followed by a tube. A thick stream of blood drains into a collection container and his breathing appears to improve. Satisfied for the moment, she turns to regard the three individuals while wiping Thatch’s spattered blood from her face.

”We have a moment while his lungs drain… before I get back to the chop-chop, can someone can tell me what the FRAK I got myself into this time?!”
Captain Bubbles

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

“This was too easy”, Bubbles thought nervously. Sure, she was a great pilot, but she had just effectively picked up four people from a jail courtyard, while a full scale riot was ongoing, one of her rescuee had a bounty on his head so big that even she would collect it if she was smart, and yet, there she was, in space, with barely a scratch on her ship to show for it and no one was giving pursuit. She swallowed hard and briefly wondered how much she could trust Fiona.

But she didn’t have time to focus on that right now. She could only deal with one extremely urgent problem at a time. Crox had said Thatch was badly injured and had lost an arm. Making sure the man didn’t end up dead was her very first priority. She slammed the buttons for the auto-pilot and dashed to the medbay, her heart pounding in her chest, worried at what she would find.

Before rounding the corner, she heard Fiona speak in a not so calm voice “We have a moment while his lungs drain… before I get back to the chop-chop, can someone tell me what the FRAK I got myself into this time?!”

Then, Bubbles was in the medbay, fully taking in the scene. Thankfully, Fiona had already taken care of the worse of Thatch’s injuries and the Mirialan seemed stable for the moment. She looked at his left side and saw that his arm was just… gone, severed at the elbow. She spotted the missing limb in the chill box. Bubbles felt a surge of panic and guilt pass through her. She should never have left him alone with the jedi.

Without paying any attention to anything else around her, Bubbles started discarding her dirty clothes and scrubbing herself clean with disinfectant. She didn’t want to risk a chance of infection. In his condition, it could have terrible consequences. She quickly put on a sterile smock and turned around, only to realize she had a second patient.

She quickly turned to Crox and Finx, frowning. “I hope you two know what you’re doing. This man, if you can call him that, tried to kill me.” She then turned to address the trooper. “Fiona… I don’t know what I’ve gotten you into and I’m sorry. But I need your help right now.” She gestured at her new patient. In the most casual tone she could manage, she added to her plea “You’ll be well fed while you’re here..?”

She turned her attention back to Thatch and lost track of time and everyone else. In theory, Bubbles was very familiar with how to reattach limbs. It was simple microsurgery. The blood vessels had to be reconnected, bones pinned back together, skin and muscles grafted and then nerves reattached. But she hadn’t exactly ever done it. It was a good thing Thatch was unconscious; she figured he wouldn’t be thrilled at the thought of being her first experiment.

The problem was that his wound was made from a lightsaber, and it was cauterized. She couldn’t reattach it without first cutting off more of his arm. She paced the room, lost in thought, trying to find a way around it, and suddenly, it came to her. If she embedded the same kind of circuit board used for prosthetics in his wound, then it could serve as a bridge between the extremities of the cauterized limb. The only problem was that Thatch would be in pain until his body assimilated with the circuit board, but she figured it was a small price to pay.

She activated her medical droid. It would be much more accurate and quicker than she could ever be with this task. She started by programming it to graft the thin circuit board into Thatch’s arm, which made the room smell like burnt flesh and seemed to cause the man great pain. He stirred and grunted, little beads of sweat running down his face. Bubbles quickly filled a syringe with pain killers and sedatives and before injecting it to his right arm, she whispered calmly in his ear “Shhh… it’s alright, you’re safe now.”

The droid finished with its task, and Bubbles programmed it to do the same with the cauterized end of the severed limb she had just pulled out of the chill box. She then reattached it to Thatch’s body tentatively and sighed in relief when she saw color return to Thatch’s fingers, the blood flowing freely through the bridge.

She let the droid finish reattaching all matters of bones, nerves and muscles, while she prepared the small portable bacta tank to match the dimension of Thatch’s arm. She attached it to the side of the table and carefully pulled his arm into it, sealing it around his bicep. She activated the device, hoping it would help his body assimilate and not fight the foreign piece of technology she had inserted in his arm.

She looked at her handy work and felt satisfied. She also felt exhausted, physically and emotionally. She kept blaming herself for Thatch’s condition, even though she knew she shouldn’t. But so many things could have gone differently. Had she been more careful, he wouldn’t have had to face Alkhet to keep her safe. Frustration, guilt and exhaustion all drew a few tears out of her eyes, and impulsively, she hugged the unconscious man and gently let her lips brush against his jaw, on the left side of his face, where she had struck him earlier. “I’m sorry…” she said shakily. A few of her tears fell on his neck and she pulled away, feeling embarrassed and thankful no one had seen her so weak.

Bubbles pulled up a chair to Thatch’s side, refusing to leave until her patient woke up, in case of complications. However, fatigue got the better of her and she drifted off, thinking about Flinu and Trep, who she hadn’t been able to save.


Last edited by Captain Bubbles on October 7, 2011 5:23 pm; edited 2 times in total


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Crox Rava

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Crox proceeded to bolt Zeeto to the med bay table, grimacing a bit as the bolt ratcheted into place with a metalic whine. The petite human seemed calm, and he had to admit that Thatch looked better already. The Jedi had done a number on him, but he seemed to be more or less in the clear with such a skilled physician suddenly at hand.

"-can someone tell me what the FRAK I got myself into this time?!”

Crox gave the bolt a final twist before looking up again. Bubbles had entered the room and had rushed to Thatch's side, a wave of anguish rolling off of her as she passed. Her lekku were trembling. "We're not entirely sure ourselves, I'm afraid. My name is Crox Rava, and I am trying to get Shan'in here back to her family on Coruscant. Her former owner, who we believed was dead, has apparently sent this cyborg after us with a few upgrades and a nasty little artificial intelligence program thrown in to keep him... motivated."

The little trooper glanced at Thatch, looking him over and eyeing the tube sticking out from his side. Bubbles had set the medical droid to applying a cybernetic bridge for the severed arm. The human regarded Finx as her nose wrinkled slightly, then she fixed her gaze on Crox again. His explanation was not over, it seemed. Fair enough.

"You are aboard the Mischievous Ferry, and Bubbles is her captain. The cyborg here is named Zeeto, and my scruffy-looking friend here is known as the Finx."

At the word "cyborg", Bubbles' head shot up.

“I hope you two know what you’re doing. This man, if you can call him that, tried to kill me.” Crox blinked audibly as he nodded. Didn't he always know what he was doing? Well...

He cleared his throat. "I saw another Twi'lek aboard, but she and I have never met as far as I can say. I haven't discussed our course with the others, but I mean to do what I can to patch up these men and get Zeeto into a state where he is himself again, if only to get some answers. We had stopped on Tython to offload several other former slaves who had been liberated by Bubbles. None of us meant to be on the same ship, let alone running from the same people. It's been a long couple of days."

Bubbles had leaned over Thatch, her face close to his. She was very quiet, which was quite unlike her. The Nautolan's hearts broke for her as he knew she must be reliving the same old pain. Anytime anyone near her was hurt, she blamed herself. She never spoke of it, and Crox would never ask, but he was sure she had lost someone under her command before meeting up with Finx and himself several years back. He tore his eyes away, mindful that he was staring.

"What about you, corporal? Just how did you end up on the Ferry?"


Last edited by Crox Rava on September 19, 2011 8:14 pm; edited 1 time in total


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Markis. D Thatch

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

In his dreams Thatch was back on Nal Hutta. He was cradling his love in his arms. Tears were pouring down her face as she reached up to caress Thatch's with her palm. Thatch's eyes were full of tears as her hand became more and more limp. As she slowly fell Thatch's tears streamed down his face and he whispered her name.
"Myera..."

Thatch's eyes slowly opened, his head feeling numb and fuzzy. His vision was like looking through fogged glass. His whole body was numb and his limbs felt as heavy as a ronto. He turned his head and saw figures across the room but they were too far away and too blurred. He looked to his other side and saw another person much closer but just as blurred.
"Myera?"


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Blind Equilibrium

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Fiona leaned against the table where Thatch’s form lay, listening to the Nautolan’s tale unfold. The extravagance of the story stretched at the edges of her credulity, however thinking at where her own morning had started and ended up, perhaps it wasn’t so unbelievable after all.

Crox had finished his retelling with a simple enough question.

"What about you, corporal? Just how did you end up on the Ferry?"

The petite trooper took a moment to consider, checking the shunt from Thatch’s chest for continuing drainage. Noting the flow of fluid had ended; she glanced to see Bubbles, her face close to the Mirialan’s and him stirring slightly, before answering the Nautolan’s question.

”Well, I’m here based off the simple fact I couldn’t follow simple barracks logic.” She held up one hand, ticking off thoughts on bloodied fingers. ”I went looking for trouble instead of going to the rack. I then proceeded to traipse about with a woman whose first action had been to point a blaster at me when we met, and finally I followed a pair of pretty eyes and the promise of sweets onto a stranger’s ship.”

Rolling her eyes exaggeratedly at herself, she pauses to pull the shunt from Thatch’s side, not gently. Turning to the medical droid Bubbles had activated, Fiona raps her knuckles on it metallic head.

Alright you bishwag bucket-of-bolts, give him a bone stabilizer to set his ribs, and a localized shot of bacta to his thoracic cavity to speed the healing process and prevent a lung infection. I need to check that pile of scrap and flesh on the other table.

Rapping her knuckles on the table Thatch is strapped to she regards Crox again.

”I met this schutta a couple hours ago, when he popped out of thin air, pointed his shotgun at my face, and threatened me. I still have a bit of a sore spot about that, but we’ll see where that goes later.”

Fiona stripped off the surgical smock as she crossed the room to the cybernetic form strapped to the table, balling up the cloth and throwing, it lands in a biowaste bin. Checking the restraining bolt in place, she turns his head around she finds what she is looking for, a data port. Noting no further external damage, she moves once again to her armor stack, retrieving the datapad with its cables.

”I should have gone to the sleep when I had the chance.” Fiona said mournfully as she plugged into the cyborg’s datajack, preparing to slice the computer therein.
Captain Bubbles

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

"Myera... Myera?"

At the sound of Thatch's voice, Bubbles jerked awake. She still felt exhausted and it took her a moment to get her bearings.

She looked at her patient and saw that the Mirialan's eyes were opened, he was speaking words she didn't understand and he was fidgetting. Bubbles didn't want him to reopen a wound that Fiona had already fixed, even if she suspected the trooper may find that amusing. Bubbles quickly stood and went to Thatch's side.

She gently but firmly pressed her hand to his collar bone, to make sure he stopped moving around. The man looked confused, like he was somewhere else entirely.

"Thatch, calm down please and try not to move" Bubbles tried to reassure him, her voice as soft as she could manage. "You're hurt... don't you remember what happened?"


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Markis. D Thatch

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Thatch's eyes darted around the room, everything was so blurry and he couldn't tell where he was. He started to fidget but the numbness throughout his whole body prevented any pain from registering in his mind. Suddenly a warm hand was on his collarbone and pressed him down gently. "Thatch, calm down please and try not to move. You're hurt...don't you remember what happened? "

Thatch laid his body back down and tried to focus his eyes on the person in front of him. The pain killers and medication were affecting his system to an extreme degree. "Myera...Where is she? I was holding her...I was holding her...she was alive..."

Thatch looked up to the ceiling and saw a small object hovering over his face.

"Master Thatch! Thank the maker you are alright...I was afraid that your homing signal was activated by Alkhet..."

"Alkhet?....Alkhet? " Thatch's mind went back to a few hours ago, during their duel. Blurs of the two men clashing filled his mind and the realization that his arm had been lost but so was Alkhet's leg.

"But Myera...only a dream..." Thatch looked to the blurred person again. "Did you save my arm? "


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Bubbles wasn’t sure who Myera was, someone from Thatch’s past surely. The memory of her seemed to bring great distress to the Mirialan, especially the realization that she’d only been a dream. Bubbles felt compassion for him; she knew how much it hurt to lose someone. But, she also felt annoyed, which surprised her. “You worry your little heart out for some idiot who almost gets you killed and you’re the furthest thing from his mind when he comes to. Typical…” she thought. She shook her head, looking slightly hurt despite trying to push the feeling away.

Then, Thatch turned toward her and asked if she’d saved his arm. She took a deep breath and moved to her patient’s left side, touching his arm right above where the bacta tank was sealed. “Actually, Crox saved your arm. Fiona patched you up. You should thank her; it might make her lighten up a little.” Bubbles shot a glance to the trooper. She seemed busy slicing the cyborg’s computer… or brain, she wasn’t quite sure what to call it.

“As for reattaching your arm… Well…” She tapped the bacta tank with her fingertips to make a point. “It will probably be alright. I had to put a circuit board in there since your wound was fully cauterized. It will be painful while it heals.” She eyed him up, looking at all the scars on his chest and legs. “Nothing you can’t handle, by the looks of it.”

Now that she knew he was safe, Bubbles wanted to yell at him for his carelessness and stupidity. However, she restrained herself for the moment. “Just…” she sighed. “Just stay still and try to rest while you can.” She let go of his arm and started walking away. She stopped long enough to look over her shoulder and dryly say “I promise you’ll need it.”

She walked over to where Crox and Finx were standing. They both looked just as exhausted as she felt. She gestured to Fiona and her patient. “What are we going to do with them? And where are we going? We’re just flying blind, trying to catch our breath right now.” She slammed the bulkhead with her palm, feeling frustrated. “Damn it! I get enough exercise just pushing my luck with you guys! What’s the plan, before we get in more trouble than all of our combined genius can handle?”


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Thatch blinked as Bubbles spoke to him and his vision cleared after a few short moments. Arm was saved? Didn't think that would happen. The Trooper put me back together? The one I held at gunpoint and then almost sparred with? Shutta's got guts alright...
"Just stay still and try to rest while you can...I promise you will need it. " Thatch smirked at Bubbles curt remark about his condition but was also slightly relieved to hear her words attempt at stinging him. As Bubbles walked away Thatch tossed his own chiding remark.
"Just don't go and get yourself caught before I am healed....can't save your ass all the time. "

Thatch looked past Bubbles and tried to focus his eyes so that he could see further away. The medecine however, still affected his mind and his eyes couldn't seem to focus that far away yet.

"Crox?...Finx? You over there? If you are thanks for lending me a hand...", chuckling at his own pathetic joke, But it looks like you were able to save mine... Thatch's mind was not back to its original crisp to the point self and the looniness from the pain killers were playing having with his thought process.


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Thatch rolled his eyes at gettin no response from his "friends". He layed his head back down and sighed deeply. "Alkhet....I finally got the chance to spill your blood..."


Last edited by Markis. D Thatch on October 13, 2011 11:13 am; edited 1 time in total


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