March 14, 2011

648. Sith Hunt III: Revenge of the Fish - Raezyr



The female Nautolan Jedi Nal Talla sat meditating in the cockpit of Firaxa1, while the blue male Chiss Jedi Val did the same in the cockpit of his own starfighter, Peacemaker. Their meditation allowed them to slow their body functions down to minimal, and thus be able to spend the last couple of days sitting in their respective ships. They were waiting for the moment they were given the order to launch, waiting for their quarry to finally fall into the trap they had been carefully setting for weeks now. They had been waiting for a long time, especially Nal, and neither had wanted to waste any more time than they possibly needed to.

A couple weeks ago they had finally been able to get close enough to the Sith's ship, the Wasted Rancor, for Geoffry Spickolly to remotely slice their ship's computer with a modified version of the very same "vibro-jack" program which they had found planted deep within the systems of the Republic Hammerhead Unity. The very program which had allowed the Sith and their small band of brigands to abscond with a large shipment of aurodium that had been under the protection of the Unity. Nal and Val still felt they could have staved off the pirates had they been there instead of investigating a dead end on Corellia.

But it was all in the past now. Since planting the infectious computer program, they had been able to track down the Sith's ship, eventually following it to a remote, uninhabited system and to a planet which, although seemingly habitable, lacked any intelligent life.

AXV-0092 was the alpha numeric designation of the planet around which the Sith's ship was orbiting. All sensor data and even close visual inspection showed no signs of anyone aboard. Captain Wash Moklam's first officer had wanted to confiscate the ship, pull it into the bay and tear it apart in case the Sith were hiding. The Jedi and the Captain had decided that forcing a boarding party on, either in space or in the landing bay might be a contingency the Sith had planned for; instead, they had decided to wait. Eventually the owners of the ship would return from whatever Chaos hole they were currently hiding in.

When they did, the Jedi and a squadron of Republic fighters would be waiting to pounce on them. Two and a half Galactic Standard Days, the Jedi had to wait before the signal came through their comm. They had attuned themselves to the comm beeping so they would become fully alert from their trance upon hearing it.

As they launched they were given the details. "Firaxa1 and Peacemaker: One small, heavily armed transport just exited hyperspace on the other side of AXV-0092," came the communications officers voice through the speakers. "It appears it's final destination is Rancor."

"Tank you very much, Ensign," Nal replied. "Please inform us when dey begin da docking sequence. Firaxa1 out."

----------

The Nefarion Wraith exited hyperspace on the dark side of AXV-0092 and the pilot of the small transport starship hit his comm panel and passed on the news to his only passenger. "About damn time," Anya replied to Tyr.

She appeared in the cockpit moments later and slid into the co-pilots seat. "I can't believe this. We've had nothing but bad luck since we ditched those losers back on Hoth."

"Well, I did get us some work, didn't I?" Tyr countered.

"Yeah," the blond Sith girl said, whirling on her companion. "You got us some lame job as hired body guards! We're Sith, dammit. We shouldn't be doing this kind of work," she fumed.

The dark haired man remained silent for the moment. In the last day or so he'd begun compiling a mental list of reasons. Questions really. Questions about why he was following this girl. "Maybe we should split up, or even go back and see if Raez and Trych will let us back."

"What are you? Stupid?" Anya glared.

"And that's another thing," Tyr said, beginning to get angry. "I'm getting a bit sick and tired..."

Anya suddenly slid into his lap and interrupted him. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean it." She pressed her lips to his, kissing him violently. For the briefest moment Tyr thought he felt tendrils of the Dark Side slipping into his consciousness and thought about putting up his mental defenses, but then the moment was past. All he could think about was how much he loved Anya. He tried to remember something. A list of questions... but they were gone.

A beeping sounded on the navigation panel, and Anya slid out Tyr's lap so he could operate the controls. "We're coming up on the Rancor." He looked to Anya for instructions.

"Well, start the landing cycle and then go get our things, idiot," she stated, glaring at her love slave. The dark haired man did as he was told with that sappy love-sick gizka look in his eyes. Something was going on. Usually after she turned her charms on a man, they stayed pretty loyal for a few weeks, but she'd never used it this often on a Force user before. Tyr seemed to be growing immune to whatever it was she did, because his periods under her influence were becoming a bit shorter each time. This time it had only been eight or nine days. She was either going to have to figure out how she did that trick and improve it, or figure something else out all together.

A couple minutes later she followed Tyr over onto the the other ship. She had just secured the airlock when the entire ship shook. Instantly alarms started sounding all over. She dropped her gear and followed Tyr at a run to the cockpit of the Wasted Rancor. The comm was barely audible over the multiple alarms. "...cor, dis is da Peacemaker and Firaxa1. By order of da Jedi, and in da name of da Republic, you are ordered to surrender. If you do not, we will continue firing."

"Go to Chaos, Fish-head!" Anya screamed over the comm in response. "Tyr, get us out of here!"

"But..."

"Don't 'but' me, you moron! Break dock and move!"

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