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Blind Equilibrium

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Fiona worked diligently at her handheld console; slicing the sub-routine processes of the cyborg’s AI programming with relative ease for the level of intricacy of that type of program. As she peeled layer after layer of code back from the infrastructure, a light mist of sweat formed on her brow. The quality of the programming was poor, thrown together in a haphazard way that said the programmer wasn’t getting much for the job and it showed. It had Hutt Cartel written all over it.

The AI, mostly inert due to the restraining bolt attached to the cyborg’s head, was still, aside from random data spikes and twitches as if it were dreaming fitfully. After a few minutes, Fiona had reached the core of the AI’s primary controlling processes, a tangled web of code and security tripwires danced across the terminal’s display. Taking a moment to breathe, she glanced up from the work that had consumed her attention to see Bubbles had moved from the other patient’s side and was now speaking to the Nautolan, Crox, and Finx his companion.

The Togruta was speaking in what appeared to be a consternated manner, concern plainly etched on her face, as she gestured widely toward where Fiona and her newest patient were.

Not terribly discrete, is she? The young corporal thought with a frown, wondering what was currently being discussed in that circle of miscreants. Suppose I’ll find out sooner or later.

Returning her eyes to the data streaming across the screen, she pauses as she recognizes some tertiary strings coming off the primary data stalk. Fiona’s eyes widen as she hurriedly chases the threads to their terminus, and immediately recognizes them for what they are. The AI wasn’t in fact completely disabled and was now in the process of creating effective data bridges in an attempt to reach several innocuous programs that had all the earmarks of being fail-safes.

Slamming blockades of junk code in the path of each data tendril she saw, Fiona looked up hurriedly at the gaggle of smugglers and began to shout in her best parade ground voice, hoping it got them to act before thinking or asking questions.

”You three! We need to get this thing to an air lock! The situation is going south fast, and we have minutes to get it somewhere better suited if this goes pear-shaped! Get him moved… NOW PEOPLE!“

The desired result was had, and the three of them after initially jumping at the sudden break in silence of the room, were now scrambling to move the cyborg out of the medbay. Dropping the console on Zeeto’s chest, Fiona sprinted the short distance to her armor and began putting it on rapidly, every piece as it was supposed to in the manner of a professional soldier.

Within a span of two minutes she was sliding the helmet into place, locking and pressuring the suit with a hiss. Fiona had already started her emergency status check procedures as she moved toward the door, verifying all seal integrities were good and all systems were green.

She moved through the ship rapidly, her early travels trying to find the galley paying off as she ran to the closest air lock she recalled, and found the three standing at the access. Fiona moved to where Bubbles stood.

”Listen Puffs, you are not to open this airlock until I let you know all is clear. If it goes badly… well, I won’t be around to let you know its clear probably so you’ll have to use your best judgment then.” The tone of her voice held humor clear at the end. Gesturing to Crox and Finx she continued, ”Try to keep her from doing anything too heroic and foolish, though I don’t hold much hope for your success.” With that, Fiona walked into the airlock sealing the door behind her.

Kneeling on the floor next to the inert Zeeto, Fiona connects the datapad to the terminal jack in her helmet. Lines of code appear across the helmet’s HUD as she returns to work. The AI had managed to pierce the barrier of junk code and was now moving faster realizing its efforts had been discovered. Trying to slam another blockade of code in its path, she is too late.

A thick, oily gas begins to emanate from the mouth and nose of Zeeto’s body causing the atmospheric monitoring alarms across Fiona’s helmet to turn from green to red, as the air in the small space becomes unable to support organic life. Either filters or secondary air supplies built into the cyborg’s body exist, as a quick check confirms that he is still alive even in the newly toxic environment.

Glancing at the data stream screaming across her HUD, Fiona sees more tendrils reaching out to other fail-safes. Weighing her options, she makes her decision. Pulling the datapad free of Zeeto’s jack in point, Fiona grabs a hold of a handle, and punches the airlock override.

The shutterdoor opens to the blackness of space as all the air in the space is sucked out, dragging brutally at Fiona as she grips desperately to the handle with all the augmented strength her armor grants her. The noxious cloud of gas is sucked out into the void, along with Zeeto’s inert body. The force of the exiting air causes it to cartwheel almost comically with its momentum, a sight to which Fiona starts giggling darkly. Her armor protecting her from the dangers of space, Fiona watches the grim acrobatic act.

At that moment however, one of those data tendrils must have reached one of the nastier fail-safes, as the body that was once Zeeto disappeared soundlessly into a pink and orange cloud of blood and fire as if a massive explosive had gone off. The resulting shock wave battered Fiona heavily against the bulkhead and into the door control. The shutter door slide shut, blocking out the view of space, and Fiona fell heavily to the deck as the artificial gravity took effect again.

Shakily regaining her footing, Fiona walks to the interior airlock access. Checking that the ship’s life support had normalized pressures and breathable atmosphere in the airlock. She starts to pound on the door. After what feels an eternity, the door slides open.

Removing her helmet, she regards the three others and smiles wearily.

”Well…. That could have gone better.”
Markis. D Thatch

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Thatch heard the comotion coming from the other table and strained his eyes to see what was going on. He could see the trooper working on a body...another? Thatch looked to the mans face and blinked twice in recognition of the man. " Rookie? "

He heard the trooper say something....what was it.. Did I hear airlock? Rookie...Whats wrong now? Thatch saw the smuggler be snatched away by the others and taken off through the ship. No...NO NO NO....We are in space....They are not spaceing that Rookie...

Thatch tried to sit up and wiggle away from his medical restraints but the bacta tanks around his left arm held him in place. "Trooper...I swear if you hurt that Rookie...I will slit your throat..." Then he felt it...the pressure suddenly dropped just for a moment and his ears popped. Thatch's rage began to boil and he let out a roar.

" YOU METAL HEADED SHUTTA! HE COULD HAVE BEEN SAVED! "

For some odd reason Thatch felt this growing sensation in his stomache...something dark...his anger had never peaked like this.


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Crox Rava

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

"Shhh shh shh shh sh..." Crox pressed gently but firmly on Thatch's forehead and let slip just a bit of soothing pheromone. "It couldn't be helped, Thatch. The rookie had a cortex bomb. There's no telling when it might have gone off on its own. The trooper saved all our lives." The Nautolan turned and nodded his gratitude to the feisty woman in the power armor. She looked as though she might very well wound Thatch with glaring alone, and Crox sighed as he let more pheromone into the atmo. Everyone was on edge. Finx had shuffled closer to Bubbles' side. Thatch and the trooper were still glaring at each other, though eminent violence seemed to be off the table for the moment. If he was honest with himself, Crox was just happy that Shan'in was still in the cockpit.

A landing on Coruscant would be most welcome.


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Markis. D Thatch

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Thatch breathed in Crox's pheromones and began to feel more at ease but he still glared at Fioana. Thatch began to think back on that growing sensation. That was strange...it was as if my whole body wanted to burst...like it wanted to lash out at someone... Thatch looked down at his left arm and snuffed. "Can someone get me out of this thing? I will be fine...just give me some of my brandy and a few stims and tomorrow I will be as healthy as a baby vornskr." Thatch wiggled his way to a sitting position and looked down at all of the bandages and bacta patches on his body. "Damn..."


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Captain Bubbles

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Bubbles was on edge, pacing back and forth infront of the airlock inside which Fiona was working. She understood what the trooper was trying to accomplish, but after Thatch’s duel with Alkhet, she’d had just about enough thrilling heroics for the day. She wanted to get in there, get Fiona out and vent the cyborg off the ship. It’s not like he ever did anything for her and Fiona’s safety was higher on her priority list. She glanced at Finx and Crox, but decided against her plan. She didn’t want to end up restrained or sedated or unconscious. Again.

Suddenly, she felt an explosion rock the ship and she lost her footing, falling to her knees. Everything went eerily quiet after that, save for Thatch’s yelling coming from the medbay. “Of course”, Bubbles thought, feeling annoyed, “Is there no one in the entire galaxy this schutta is able to get along with?” If Fiona was safe, and Bubbles really hoped she was, Thatch would have to go through her to harm the trooper. She had just saved their lives.

After what seemed like forever, Bubbles heard pounding on the door. She took a moment to calm her nerves and got to her feet, opening the airlock. Fiona stepped out and removed her helmet. She looked slightly shaken but unharmed. ”Well…. That could have gone better.”

Bubbles sighed in relief and hugged the trooper tightly. She hated to worry and she had done so much of it in the past hours that she could almost feel wrinkles appear on her forehead. She addressed Fiona, careful not to sound angry but wanting to make her point clear: “Listen Puff-Fee Cake, this is my ship and when you want to do something incredibly stupid, I have to approve. I happen to have a lot of experience with stupid. I’m grateful for what you did, but don’t ever take that kind of risks again, well unless it’s my life you’re trying to save, understood?”

Fiona was about to reply when Thatch started screaming at the trooper again. The look on her friend’s face was murderous. Fortunately, Crox noticed Fiona’s look too and he was already striding towards the medbay, in an attempt to avoid yet another crisis. When Bubbles got there, Fiona on her heels, Thatch seemed to have already calmed down. Bubbles glanced at Crox, a look of wonder in her eyes.

“Can someone get me out of this thing? I will be fine…” Bubbles stared at the Mirialan, not trusting him one bit to remain calm once he wasn’t restrained anymore. She was so fed up with him, she decided it was time they had a little chat, even if he obviously needed more time to rest and heal. The idiot had to be made to understand, once and for all, how things worked around here.

“Everyone, out!” She said in her most captain-like tone, pointing at the medbay door and impatiently tapping her foot. “I need to exchange a few words with Thatch. Out!” She received a few concerned looks but ignored them, not budging with her decision.

Once she was alone with the injured man, she locked the door, walked to his side and helped his arm out of the bacta tank. He sat on the operating table, massaging his left arm with his right hand, cringing slightly. He gestured towards his brandy and a handful of stims, but Bubbles shook her head sideways, smiling. Thatch looked angry.

“Ok Bubbles… What did I do now? Forgot to cover your ass while escaping? Oh… that’s right… I DID!” He yelled at her. She felt like he was trying to blame her for his predicament, which only made her even more furious than she already was.

“You think I’m a spoiled little brat, don’t you? But look at you; you’re the one who needs to stop acting like a princess. What IS wrong with you?” She yelled back at him. It felt so good to let those bottled up feelings out.

“What’s wrong with me? What the karking hell are you talking about? Me acting like a schutta of a princess? Where the kark do you get the nerve to call me that? I saved your ass back there!" Thatch’s voice was getting louder and louder and Bubbles instinctively took a few steps back when the Mirialan got to his feet.

“My ass wouldn’t have needed saving in the first place if you weren’t such a secretive idiot. Why didn’t you tell us about the bounty and about Alkhet? You let me walk right into a trap! Honestly, are you always this stupid, or just when I’m around?” Her headtails started shaking slightly. This was the main reason she was so mad at him. He drove them right into danger, thinking he could handle everything by himself without any problem.

“Hell Bubbles… would you have listened even if I told you? None of you would”, Thatch said more calmly. Then, he looked at her, darkness in his eyes. “Besides… that bastard needed to die for what he did. I was tired of being hunted.” Thatch spat the words like venom. Bubbles couldn’t believe what she had just heard. Did he mean he had wanted a confrontation with the jedi, and had deliberately used them as bait?

“How dare you be so selfish? And to think I worried about you!” She was screaming, all self-control gone. “Is that why she died, your Myera? Because you’re a careless karking fool?” Her words were meant to hurt, but she regretted them the moment they left her lips. It was too late to take them back now and she would have to deal with Thatch’s wrath. She braced herself, expecting the worse.


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Markis. D Thatch

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Bubbles remark stung Thatch badly and his anger redoubled to an unprecedented level. In that moment...he hated her...he hated Alkhet...he hated the galaxy...but more than anyone elsel... he hated himself. That dark growing sensation in his stomach returned again...this time...more powerful than ever. Thatch began to seethe, "You schutta...You think I meant for her to die?" Thatch took a step towards Bubbles his voice dripping with malice. "You spoiled little whelp...you...dare scorn me after YOU got your whole crew killed? " Thatch's rage seemed to consume him.

Bubbles began to shake...she may have regretted her words to Thatch but his words to her hit her like a ton of duracrete. She kept her eyes on Thatch while reaching for his flask and then threw it with all her might at him.

Thatch instinctively reached out to catch it but he felt that growing darkness leap out of him and the flask halted in mid air.
Bubbles backed into the bulkhead and shrieked at the flask halted in the air and Thatch standing away from her with a look of enraged bliss.

Her shriek panged in Thatch's head and reality creeped into his mindl. He dropped his right arm which caused the flask to fall to the floor and staggered back to the bed. He held the bedside with his right hand and began to shake. The anguish he felt has been uncontrollable and he almost lashed out at Bubbles or did he? He recalled what he had said to her...and what she had said to him.
Tears formed in Thatch's eyes. "I...killed her..."

Bubbles dared to walk over to the shaking Mirialan and touch his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault..." Thatch shook his head and slammed his palm against the bed. "No Bubbles...it was....I killed so many people....and it caught up to her instead of me..."

Bubbles smiled softly, " Then maybe you can tame all the craziness in here... " She pressed her finger into his chest. "You can start by apologizing...and then start doing some good..." Thatch looked to Bubbles and managed a laugh...he rubbed his eyes and smiled. He stood up and walked over to his duffel bag as Bubbles eyed him curiously. He looked down into the gold and spoke to Bubbles, "You scorned me....and I scorned you....we are square"

Bubbles managed a smile and shoved Thatch playfully, "Really...thats my apology? " Thatch braced himself instinctively and his body erupted in pain and soreness but he managed and whimpering smile. Lucky to get that..., he groaned.

Bubbles scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Lucky? Lucky would have been to come out of this thing with a pile of credits."

Thatch zipped his duffel bag and smiled to himself. "Who says I didn't " Thatch hefted his duffelbag with his right hand and walked to the door.

Bubbles looked to the wounded smuggler. "Wait Thatch....are we good? "

Thatch fiddled with the lock and it slid away. He turned his head and tossed a wink at Bubbles before walking out of the medical bay and into the work rooms.


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Captain Bubbles

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Bubbles was left alone in the medbay, feeling confused at what had just happened. She had wanted to make Thatch understand his mistakes, to make him see how much danger he had unnecessarily put them in, but instead, she had ended up comforting him. She was a complete sucker for sad stories and it had been near impossible to stay mad when the Mirialan had looked so vulnerable. She wondered briefly if he had tricked her.

But she remembered the look of pure anger on his face, his words stinging her like poison and the enjoyment he seemed to get from it. Most of all, she remembered how he had used the Force to stop the flask she had hurled at his face, in midair. That, paired with the maniacal glow of his eyes, had really scared her. Bubbles didn’t trust jedi; she felt their power made them unpredictable. Seeing that raw, untrained power in Thatch had truly made her fear for her life, if for just a moment.

Thankfully, it seemed that seeing her afraid of him had made Thatch snap back to his normal self, which is when she had felt compelled to comfort him, despite how much he had hurt her. But Thatch was right; they’d both scorned each other and were now even. She hoped he had meant it; she was too exhausted to even think about arguing more. Better just stay out of his way for a while.

Still, she felt Thatch had left the medbay with a lightness in his walk that he didn’t previously have, which was a sign that talking things through with her had helped. “Well, maybe he’ll stop irritating everyone, how about that!” she thought with a smile.

As she walked towards the cockpit, Bubbles wondered what Thatch kept in that duffle bag of his and what his remark about being lucky meant. “Did he steal anything from Orta? I’ll have to take a peek in there while he’s not looking,” she said aloud to no one in particular.

When she reached the cockpit, she found the rest of the crew, looking at her inquisitively. Finx looked worried, Crox seemed curious and Fiona was doing a poor job at hiding how annoyed she felt. “There won’t be any more incidents with Thatch for the rest of the trip,” she calmly addressed the trooper. “Now that that’s taken care of, I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t like drifting and I’d like to be going somewhere. I’ve been thinking… With what we’ve been through, we’ll want to avoid Hutt Space for a while.” Once again, she faced Fiona: “And we’re not going back to Tython.” She continued thinking aloud: “I figure, we need somewhere big, where we can lie low and get transport off-world for everyone who needs it. How about Coruscant? Unless any of you have a bounty or an arch enemy there? I feel like I have to ask now...” she finished sarcastically.


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Crox Rava

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Crox sighed more heavily than he'd meant to. "Coruscant... would be perfect. I'm still on the clock, after all." He nodded toward Shan'in with a smile. She smiled in turn, and her sweet scent and misty eyes spoke her joy over finally going home. She really was a marvel. Crox had liberated several dozen slaves in his short solo career, and he had never met one so pure at her core. The kind of captivity and abuse they often endured tended to mold slaves into desperate, grasping opportunists the moment they tasted freedom. While most had expressed gratitude in the end, nearly every one had been just as happy to see Crox go once he'd got them home. They weren't even fully aware of it themselves, but the Nautolan had deduced that he represented the end of a dark chapter in their lives, and they were often eager to begin to forget.

It was not so with Shan'in. She had never complained about the many detours and delays in their journey. Where every previous client had smelled of fear until they saw their home again, Shan'in seemed to actually be enjoying herself! She may have been eager to see her family again, but in the meantime she was on an adventure and she liked it. Even now, she was content to pilot the ship (with great aid from the nav computer, but still) while the rest of the crew wearily hammered out the details. The little smile on her lips was so sweet. So beautiful...

Shan'in turned to look at Crox, and her smile broadened with a wink. Crox started. He hadn't meant to stare. He hadn't meant to have that idiotic grin on his face. He was abashed... but this time he didn't look away. His senses drank her in. She wasn't enthralled by his pheromones, or trying to manipulate him. This slave... this woman...

Shan'in's eyes sparkled with amusement as they glanced away briefly toward the others and back. "Crox? Hello?" He heard a rhythmic tapping, but it wasn't his upper heart as he'd imagined. It was a sturdy boot. It was impatience. It was...
"Bubbles!"

He jerked around in his seat to look at the Captain who was trying very hard to look annoyed even though she couldn't keep the corner of her mouth from twisting upward. Finx stood beside her, grinning broadly and shaking his head. "Just when we had the old crew back together, too." he chuckled. Then he yelped as Bubbles shoved an elbow in his ribs.

"Whenever you drag your head out of that cloud, Blue, would you kindly lay in a course for Coruscant? And try not to crash my ship. You look a little sick." Her practiced 'captain face' was now in place, but her head tails couldn't hide a little mental giggle. Beside him, Shan'in laughed out loud. And he didn't mind at all.

"Aye, cap'n!" He mocked a salute as he turned to the console to set their course. Finx and Bubbles exited the cabin, but Crox heard as they made their way down the corridor. "So when we land, you reckon Blue's gonna take her home, or take her HOME?! Heheh- OWW!"


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Markis. D Thatch

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Thatch leaned back against the bulkhead in the work room and drank deeply from his flask. He gulped down the auburn liquid and took a deep breath as the effects of the strong liquid affected his system. He looked to his arm and saw the blade slice from Alkhet and how Bubbles did her best to reattach his arm.

He brought his right hand up to his face and turned it around so as to examine it for any damage. "How did I do that? " Thatch held his hand back out and stared at a hydrospanner on the workbench. He stared and stared and stared while holding out his hand but the spanner made no rattle or budge.

Thatch scoffed and let his arm slump back down. He mulled over the whole situation in his head. How he had gotten then all into trouble, how he nearly got all of them arrested or killed, how he had lost his arm to Alkhet and the rage he felt when Bubbles insulted him. Rage....I was angry... Thatch went back to the anger he had felt, he began to think about what all he had done...all of the people he slew. His heart began to pound, his sickening sensation returned to his stomach, and Thatch threw out his right arm in a fury. The Hydro spanner flew away from the desk and across the room.

Thatch took deep breaths and the sickening feeling remianed in him. He felt cold...sick....pain....anger....
Thatch looked up to the bulkhead as if staring into space, seeking an answer.

"If this is the darkside.....I don't like it....but then again...." Thatch looked down to his hand. "There might be something to this force thing...."


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Blind Equilibrium

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Fiona leaned against the bulkhead watching the scene unfold before her. She felt fatigued, as fatigued as she had felt in recent memory. The day had taken many strange turns to land her in this motley crew, and on a few occasions she had been made to push down her desire to make a few new corpses in favor of completing her mission. Her brow was furrowed at the thought of how many times she had swallowed her pride that day; but that’s what the good troopers do.

Bubbles entered the cockpit of the ship, crowded with the number of individuals standing around; Fiona glanced her way as Bubbles faced her and spoke calmly.

“There won’t be any more incidents with Thatch for the rest of the trip,”

The petite trooper bobbed her head a fraction in acknowledgement of the statement, the man’s promises of retribution against her still fresh in her mind and all that after having just saved his life, twice. As Bubbles continued to speak, Fiona returned to her brooding, not really listening to the plan. She had her orders, and she would follow them. The destination didn’t matter beyond that fact.

Through the corner of her eye Fiona noted the Togruta addressing her once again; something to do with Tython and not returning there. This followed by a quip regarding archenemies and returning to Coruscant to head their separate ways.

A heavy sigh at the mention of Coruscant drew her attention to the Nautolan, Crox. He gazed at the Twi’lek in the cockpit with eyes that seemed liquid even for one of his species with a near day dreaming quality about him as he spoke.

"Coruscant... would be perfect. I'm still on the clock, after all."

Then came the uncomfortable silence as he and the Twi’lek sat staring at each other. Though she had no knowledge of the language herself, Fiona tried to watch for the subtle movement of headtails. There was none. As the silence dragged on, it became punctuated with the rhythmic tapping of Bubbles’ boot on the deck.

"Crox? Hello?" Impatience was thick in her voice.

The blue-skinned man came back to himself with a start, exclaiming as he did. "Bubbles!"

"Just when we had the old crew back together, too." Finx chuckled as he spoke, ending abruptly in a yelp when Bubbles’ elbow found his ribs.

"Whenever you drag your head out of that cloud, Blue, would you kindly lay in a course for Coruscant? And try not to crash my ship. You look a little sick." Bubbles’ was looking stern, or at least making an attempt to, though Fiona doubted if even the greenest rookie in her squad would bat an eyelash at the face. Glancing at Crox, she did note a rather greenish cast about him, or was it the light?

The Nautolan recovered enough to throw up a rakish salute with a jaunty, "Aye, cap'n!" He then turned to plot a course on the ships’ navcomp.

As Bubbles’ and Finx left the cockpit, she heard a mumbled comment followed by laughter and a yelp of pain. The dubious character Finx no doubt earning himself another elbow from Bubbles.

Fiona looked around and found herself in the room with Crox, busy at a panel, and the Twi’lek, busy watching Crox at the panel. Spotting an open chair, Fiona flounced into it with a creak of armor and a sigh. She looked out the cockpit to the dark majesty of space, and sighed again.

”Don’t mind me… I’m just going to sit and relax a bit. The stars are much more attractive with a layer of bulkhead and air between me and them after all.” She said contentedly.

Reaching over her shoulder, she drew the wickedly serrated Jedi katana she had acquired long ago from its back sheath. Pulling a rag from a compartment of her belt, Fiona began to polish the blade across her lap as she looked out onto the stars, wondering what tomorrow would bring.
Captain Bubbles

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

As she watched Crox and Shan’in stare at each other with this ridiculous, happy look on their faces, Bubbles realized that she was envious. It wasn’t easy to admit; she prided herself in being independent. “It’s just…” she had trouble finishing her thought. The way the Nautolan looked at Shan’in was so sweet and spoke of feelings she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. “Lucky lovebirds,” she mumbled, smiling like an idiot just like they were.

After making sure her ship was headed in the right direction, Bubbles started feeling uncomfortable in the cockpit. It was getting crowded with too many feelings and not enough room. She figured it would be best for everyone to give those two some room. She exited the cabin, Finx on her heels, but Fiona didn’t seem to get the message. “That trooper is as dense as her armor!” she thought affectionately.

As she walked down the hall, Finx leaned in, the brim of his hat tickling Bubbles’ montrals, “So when we land, you reckon Blue's gonna take her home, or take her HOME?! Heheh- OWW!” What started as a husky and suave speech ended in a not so manly squeal for Finx, as Bubbles elbowed him forcefully.

“Your mind is dirtier than a rancor pit, you know that?” She was facing him now, shaking her head in exasperation. He was incorrigible. Sure, since Nar Shaddaa, they’d shared a moment or two that were somewhat sweet and awkward, but Finx had never looked at her the way Crox looked at Shan’in. For him, their little dance was just a game. And Bubbles did not like losing.

She wasn’t sure how the tall smuggler had interpreted her jest as an invitation, but Finx leaned in, his face inches from hers. Bubbles locked eyes with him and smiled coyly. “Well, good night!” she said to the stunned man. She then turned around and walked towards the captain’s quarters, making sure her hips swayed casually with each step. “I definitely won,” she thought, grinning.

When she reached her quarters, Bubbles was in a good mood and her spirits lifted even more at the thought of spending as much time as she wanted in the refresher, washing the grime, dirt, sweat and who knows what else from her Tython adventures. When she felt satisfyingly clean, she dressed in casual clothes and headed straight to bed.

She quickly drifted to sleep, her mind focused on Thatch, what he would do about his newfound affinity with the Force and more importantly, what secret he was still hiding from them in that duffle bag of his.


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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Thatch sat in the workroom after stepping from the guest refreshner and began to recite the Mandalorian battle meditations. He sat on his knees with his hands on his hips, his head bowed and his eyes closed. The histories of the many Mandalorian battles and conquests filled his thoughts and his mind. He began to get lost in the tales of honor and glory his people strived to obtain.

Thatch felt his mind slowly calming down and his ambitions of glory and conquest began to soar. His ambition swelled inside of him and he thought of the locked item in his duffel bag. The item he swore never to use or even show off, but maybe...just this once...maybe he would feel something from it...a sense of completion?

Thatch stood and walked over to his duffel bag and broke the lock on the pocket. He slid his hand inside the darkened pocket and pulled out a cylindrical object. Thatch held it in both hands and depressed a button on the larger hilt. A violet beam of plasma and light erupted from the emitter with a snap hiss and began to hum.

Thatch waved the blade back and forth and listened to the change in pitch of the blade. "These are lighter than I thought...It almost has no weight. " Thatch began to run through on of his battle dances slowly and began to become accustomed to the weapon.


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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

Alkhet's eyes ached as they slowly opened. The blinding light burned the back of his head as he regained consciousness. A songbird cooed gently on the warm breeze that he now began to feel on his cold skin. Above him, a deep azure sky opened into the space beyond.

The Jedi sat up, taking in the lush field that carried itself with rolling hills onto the horizon and out of sight. To his left, in the far distance, wonderful lavender-hewn mountains escaped an ancient forest to be adorned with a mist tinted gold from the sun. To his right, an expansive ocean lapped at the silver beach with a steady rhythm that rivaled the beat of a heart.

The breeze made itself known again by tickling the back of the Zabrak's ears. A broad smile crept over his face as he closed his eyes and looked to the sky, letting the warmth of the sun blanket his form.

As Alkhet leaned forward to stand, the world slipped from underneath him. He flailed his arms and legs to keep from falling, but everything vanished so quickly from around him that he was soon left in complete darkness.

The sound of the crashing waves slowed to a droning hum..

The songbird's song became less whimsical and more rhythmic..

The warm breeze that gently tickled him every so often was replaced with a heavy, smothering sensation..

The Jedi slowly opened his eyes again, but was not greeted this time with the blues and greens of a paradise lost. He awoke submerged in a warm, gooey liquid. A machine near the bacta tank beeped every few seconds as it monitored his vital signs. In the background, the sound of the engines filled the small space with a deep, mechanical voice. Cold, grey symmetry caged the Jedi just outside the tank's glass.

A wave of frustration shook Alkhet to the core and as quickly as he had emerged from the darkness, he was once again a part of it.
Captain Bubbles

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re: The Putrescent Hutt Cantina

“You dirty little thieving alien scum!” Dace Etison yelled at her. “How could you possibly think you would get away with stealing MY ship?” He lifted her off her feet and slammed her back into the bulkhead, his forearm on her throat cutting her air supply. His eyes were dark and menacing. Bubbles was so scared; she wanted to scream but couldn’t breathe.

She woke up with a start, her breath coming in short, ragged pants. She hugged her knees tightly to her chest, trying to get a sense of comfort and safety. She knew it was just a bad dream, but this was a moment in her life she never wanted to relive again.

She got to her feet and dressed, wanting to wash away the nightmare as quickly as possible. Securing her weapons on her belt made Bubbles feel slightly better; their weight on her hips was a reassuring feeling.

She decided that investigating Thatch’s duffel bag seemed like a good way to get her mind focused on something else. “Anything but Dace Etison,” she thought grimly.

Before rounding the corner leading to her ship’s workroom, Bubbles heard a faint humming. She figured the Mirialan would be resting in there, probably tinkering with his arm or meditating on his newfound power. She proceeded cautiously to the entrance and peeked into the darkness, which was broken by a dim purple light.

“A lightsaber!” she thought. And wielding it was Thatch, executing series of elaborate movements. He was so focused that he didn’t even seem to notice her presence. She decided to not disturb him, but as she turned around, an object caught her eye: the duffel bag was lying on the ground, opened; ready to reveal its content if she took a few steps forward.

She quietly crept through the darkness and made her way to the bag, her curiosity impossible to ignore. She glanced at Thatch a few times to make sure he was still going through the motions of his battle dances, unaware of her presence.

She was finally close enough to peek into the bag. She crouched and pulled the folds of fabric apart, to reveal what appeared to be chunks of metal, glowing with a golden hue. Against all judgment, she reached in, grabbed a piece and brought it to her eyes. “Is that what I think it is?” she thought, her heart racing. It was gold! And enough of it to buy a whole ship! Or at least to reimburse her for all the medical supplies and air traffic violation fees she was going to have to pay.

“Son of a Hutt!” she exclaimed aloud, unable to contain her excitement. As soon as the words left her lips, she cursed herself for her lack of self-control. The Mirialan immediately turned towards Bubbles, his lightsaber pointed in her direction. She wasn’t sure if it was a sign of aggression, or if he was just trying to cast some light her way.

Bubbles dropped the piece of gold she had been holding. It made a loud thud when it reached the floor. She got to her feet and quickly backed away from the bag. “I hmmm, was sleep walking. No idea how I got here! And I was just leaving, really. There’s no need to get angry. Seriously, would you stop pointing that thing at me?!”

“Now would be a great time to arrive to Coruscant,” she pleaded quietly with the hyperdrive.


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Markis. D Thatch

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Thatch halted his movement as he saw the glimmer of his gold reflect from his bag. He relaxed himself and pointed his weapon at Bubbles. Thatch waved the weapon from side to side and clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Oh Bubbles...your curiosity will get you killed one of these days..."

Thatch extinguished his weapon and activated the lights. He walked towards her with a half smile on his face. "Like what you have found? Those peggats were for Nemranos payment for the new shipment of spice. But when Orta had him imprisoned in carbonite it seems the gold better suits me. "

Thatch breathed in the air and felt at peace, his spirit was calm and it felt as if a deep well existed in him now. The well of his emotions and calm. When he was angry or spiteful that well filled with his anger and rage but now it was calm. Thatch knelt to the floor and picked up the gold that had strayed away from the bag and dropped it back in with a dull ping.

He looked at Bubbles and clipped the single hilt on his belt. "Can you see now why this bag never leaves my side? That gold is payment for my bounty Bubbles..." Thatch closed his eyes and tried to harness the calm within him he envisioned the peggat he had just dropped as if he were holding it in his hand. He moved over it with his mind and felt the ridges and grooves of the golden coin. Thatch held his hand out as if to lay it upon a shoulder and repeated his mental exercise.

The peggat wiggled within the bag as Thatch's mind examined it. "I've been working on this all night....trying to harness this calm I feel...rise....." The peggat wiggled and rose to the brim of the duffel bag before falling back down on the pile. Thatch took a step back and smiled to himself. "Now I know why these glow sticks seem to have the advantage over us. They can use this thing to do whatever they want and control whatever they wish..."

Thatch took up the duffelbag and walked over to the workbench to clean his pistol. He took apart the weapon and began to clean each piece with a rag. "So Bubbles...where are we headed? "


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