288. Hoth: King's Lair - Raezyr

"Yar...."

Raezyr just shook his head. He was having a really hard time not laughing, and he was pretty sure Trychon knew it.

Entering the hangar Trychon spoke up. "I'll be glad to get off this rock for awhile. I don't think I've been really warm since we got here."

"No kidding. And how come they call it 'Hoth?' They should call it 'Coldth,'" Raezyr said jokingly.

Trychon just stopped dead in his tracks, and Raezyr turned back to see what was wrong. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Holy Shit. Did you just tell a joke?" Trychon said in mock amazment. "Your powers are growing, Raez."

"Go to hell, Trych," Raezyr said, turning around and continuing toward the ship.

Trychon trotted to catch up and fell into step alongside the armored Sith. "No, no, it was a good first try. I mean, the joke wasn't worth bantha poodoo, but everyone's gotta start somewhere. Next thing you know, you'll have your own stand-up holo special on GHBO."

Raezyr just shook his head as they walked across the floor of the bay. He noted that Delki had started some rather large project on the Twilight Stalker. The cargo bay doors were wide open and there was a pile of junk on the hangar bay floor where he was throwing stuff out. Bleetz was, of course, digging through the stuff on the floor and picking out what she felt was salvagable.

They paused before climbing aboard. "What kind of renovations do you have him doing?" Raezyr asked.

Trychon just grinned and slid past Raezyr into the ship.

Once aboard, they headed for the crew quarters. Raezyr stopped at the Captain's berth. He looked around the small room for a moment, then turned and dumped his gear unceremoniously into one of the old Chiefs rooms.

Trychon looked out from the other old Chiefs room. "What's the matter?"

"Who goes aboard someone else's ship and takes over the Captain's quarters," Raezyr said and stormed forward toward the cockpit.

Trychon stopped what he was doing and followed. There was no way on Hoth that he was going to miss this.

-----------

Dianna was sitting in the pilot's seat when Raezyr burst through the door. Trychon leaned against the jamb and grinned. He wished he had some popcorn for this.

"I don't fucking think so," Raezyr said coldy.

"Excuse me?" Dianna said incredulously. She wasn't used to anyone speaking to her in such a manner.

Raezyr spoke each and every word with cold clear deliberation and barely masked hostility. "Are you deaf? Do I need to use sign language? The berth you chose alone is enough of an insult, although we probably would have offered it to you anyway. It is the fact that you just assumed that it belonged to you. But I can forgive that. What is inexcusable is the fact that you think you are going to pilot this crate."

Dianna stood up. She was nearly as tall as Raezyr and looked him right in the eyes, "Understand this. This is MY mission. I'm the one in charge. That gives me the authority to do what I've done. You got that, Sith Boy?"

"You may be in charge of the mission, but this is not... your... ship...," Raezyr said.

They stood there for a moment, neither willing to back down. Trychon broke the silence, "So are you two gonna kiss, or fight? Either way is fine with me."

Dianna laughed and stepped aside, "You're right, Raezyr. It's not my ship. I'm used to being in complete control around here and didn't really give it any thought. You can pilot this heap, but don't forget that this is my mission and I'm in charge."

Somewhat placated, Raezyr sat down in the pilot's seat and began the pre-flight checks, "You may take the co-pilot's seat if it's alright with Trychon."

"By all means, please take it. I suspect you're a better pilot than I am," Trychon said sitting down and strapping into one of the other seats.

"Alright then," Dianna said. "Raezyr, get us off this off this rock."