Raezyr came to and sat up. The pain in his side had lessened some. He looked around and got his bearings. Alright, I'm in the med bay, I can hear the sub light drive running, so we have to be in space. I better go see what's going on, he thought as he threw on his cloak.
He was livid about having his armor removed, but he understood why. He'd have done the same in Trychon's position. It still didn't make him any less angry about it, though.
He quickly made his way to the cockpit and looked around. He was surprised to see Tyrrazapon still here, and in the pilot's seat no less. "What is the situation? Where are we?" he demanded, more harshly than was probably necessary.
"Look, Gimpy," Tyrrazapon began, "you got yourself in hot water with the authorities here, and I'm tryin to fly you out of this mess. Don't come in here and get uppity with us. By all rights we could have left you lying in the dirt on the landing pad."
Raezyr pointed at Tyrrazpon and started to reply, but Trychon interuppted, "Cut it, you two! You can fight later, right now we've got about 5 minutes until this frieghter above us stops and then they'll be on our asses."
"Alright then, let me take the helm for now, I know this ship best. Tyrrazapon, move over to the weapons station and get the quad cannons warmed up. Trychon, get coordinates for....... I don't know... any close system, just find one and pick one. We'll jump there first and then back to Korriban, in case they try tracking our last vector," Raezyr said, and they all moved, working in unison.
Raezyr immediately punched the throttle to full speed, heading for open space, leaving the cover of the frieghter behind.
"Space transport Jet Razor, this is Nar Shaddaa Defense Shuttle Tango-5, shut down all engines and prepare to...." Raezyr shut off the comm switch. "Boring conversation anyway. Gentlemen, get ready for company."
Raezyr began flying erratically, rolling and spinning as three patrol shuttles fell in behind, and began to open fire, green lasers flashing all around the cockpit.
"Switching deflector screen to rear, Tyr, when ever you're ready..... Trych, do we have the coordinates yet?"
Tyrrazapon began firing, the red streaks flying back toward their pursuers.
"Not quite...... there! Got 'em!" Trychon exclaimed.
"Get 'em entered!"
"Hahaha! That's one down," Tyrrazapon gloated as a patrol shuttle exploded into a ball of flame and scrap metal, "Oh shit, here come 2 more, 10 o'clock!"
"I see 'em," Raez responded, barrel rolling down and away.
"Co-ordinates entered! Let's get the frack out of here!"
Raezyr banked hard left into the appropriate vector and pulled back on the hyperdrive levers.
And with a sudden flicker of pseudo-motion, the Jet Razor was gone.
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