"..What the Frell!?.."


Kullum watched bewildered as the door to his Cell suddenly slid open..and closed, then opened again.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ...don't have to tell me twice!...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Diving up from his bunk, Kullum launched himself through the narrowing gap just in time before the huge metal door clamped shut again. Glancing around, Kullum gathered himself as he checked for any Guards...
His face taking on a somewhat confused look as he realised there were none...

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ..thats odd!...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"..what am I saying!?.."

(he murmured to himself)

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ..don't look a gift-horse in the mouth Kullum..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

As he cautiously made his way down the corridors, he snorted..this ship was far too sterile for his taste...but then Imperial designers were never reknown for their ...tastes.
Kullum paused mid-thought, as the lights started to flicker on and off,

"..what the!?....something is definately going on here.."

His eyes squinted a little as a shrill alarm started to sound...(Kullum picked up the pace)

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ... lets hope they forget about me...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Moving swiftly down the halls, Kullum Cursed aloud as he checked his Chrono, two days he'd been stuck on this ship..

"..two FRELLIN days!..."

The deadline for his connection had passed a day ago, and there would be no catching him now...
Kullum was not looking forward to explaining this small technical hitch to Barakka (his hutt employer)...
After reverting back into realspace too early..he had no choice but to dump his cargo, before the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> The Carrion<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> had intercepted his ship and had arrested him under suspicion of smuggling...
Kullum cursed again at his bad luck, (but then timing was not his strong point)...

"..hows a guy supposed to make an honest living!?..."

This was all material now, his first priority was to get off this oversized lump of metal...

His attention was alerted to the sound of footsteps clunking towards him further down the hall, Kullum swung around frantically looking for a place to hide..

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ...aha!...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Opening the door closest to him he slipped inside, and locked it via a keypad on the wall, through the small porthole on the door he caught a glimpse of a flurry of troops running past.
Relaxing a little he breathed a small sigh of relief...as the sounds of their footsteps gradually disappeared.

Quickly glancing around the room, Kullum froze...

He appeared to be in some kind of changing room, complete with showers and what appeared to be, two dead bodies...
(he crept closer to inspect one...)

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ...not bad looking either....now thats a shame...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Cocking his head to one side he observed the other...

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ...this must be her sister...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

...But what was lying next to her interested him more...

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ..her Blaster!...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"...maybe my lucks changing after all..."

Picking it up Kullum inspected it closely as he stood up, and a small grin crept across his face..

This smile disappeared quickly however , as a stern voice interrupted him from behind..

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> ..FREEZE!...Turn around...slowly!..<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

Kullum complyed..
His face seemed to drop , as his eyes met the barrel of a Blaster , and the face of a Guard.

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> ...drop the gun..<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

The gravity of Kullum's predicament suddenly dawned upon him as he followed the Guards line of sight, which had focused on the two dead women...then back to the Gun Kullum was holding...

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ...Frell....<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Kullum dropped the gun, and smiled nervously, and struggled to think of an explanation...
He held his hands up, and winced as he spoke the first thing that came to mind...


"...they were like that when I found them!...."

<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="gray">Oman, of course, had gotten lost.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Was it E deck or H?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He started down one corridor and then backtracked through another.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> But if I turn here, I end up in a locker full of widgets.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> An eyebrow goes up.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Of course, widgets can come in very handy in a bind.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He dismissed the idea and went through another corridor and through a lift to the next level.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Sublevel F? What the bloody @#$@#!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The the blastdoor closed in front of him only to open again.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Ahh.. Something's in their system that's blocking off my routes. No wonder I am lost.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Then, in mid-opening, the doors began to slide shut.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> @#$@#$$^%#!!!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He sighed and pulled alternate routes from his memory.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> So, then, if I cross over to...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--></font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

[[Lord, there is an ship incoming. It is identifying itself as the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Slave I<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, and the pilot claims to be the bounty hunter Boba Fett.]]

[[Fett?!]] Talus stood up short, his path to Terolyn’s position momentarily delayed as he took in the information he was receiving from Nec - the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Carrion’s<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Captain - located on the bridge. [[Fett... What does he want?]] Talus asked, after a brief pause for thought.

[[He has not said, Lord.]] Nec’s thoughts were fully open to Talus, as was the man’s fear at being the bearer of bad news. It amused Talus some, as how Nec and his two Elite were still deathly afraid of Talus. Well, it was probably a good thing, anyway. Kept them in check.

This in mind, Talus allowed a mental barrage of anger seep into the thoughts he was exposing Nec to. I was his fault, anyway, that he had not taken the initiative on the situation. [[Well answer him and ask, then!]] A trace of frustration worked it’s way through the message as well, but mainly it was anger. Talus relished in the state of Nec’s mind as he took the brunt of that mental surge, but his reply was honest enough.

[[Lord, the communications are malfunctioning. We are able to receive audio only - we cannot transmit ship to ship.]] The message was backed with enough honesty that Talus did not take his rage at the malfunction out on Nec, but instead lashed outward with the Force, ripping a nearby interior wall from it’s foundations and hurling it at a passing crewer. The human-sized sheet of metal smashed first into the man’s legs, taking them out from under him, and secondly around and into his head. A light splattering of blood coated the floor and Talus’ feet.

The Sith took more enjoyment in this than in tormenting Nec, so he savoured the moment of pain before death he felt through the Force for longer than he had Nec’s torment. The Jedi meditated by sitting still and thinking things over - Talus found meditation in acting.

[[Turn all lights off in the docking bays, except for Bay 5.]]

[[It is done, Lord]] Nec seemed relieved at his Lord’s choice of action, mainly, it seemed, due to the change of subject matter from Talus’ murder of the crewer - the repercussions of which Nec would have felt via their mental link.

[[And send a stormtrooper escort to meet him. I want him watched carefully, and brought to my position on E deck.]] Talus reached out further with the Force then, scanning around his ship first, then outside it. He could feel no hostile emotions out there, although as Fett was not Force-sensitive, there was little chance of Talus catching anything at this range.

Talus had started walking again shortly after unleashing his rage, and could now feel that he was growing close to the ysalimir Force-dampening field. It was dangerous, he knew, moving into territory like this while there was an enemy on the run in the same place.

He didn’t hesitate.

----------

Oman in the middle of getting lost, and heading quite successfully down that path, when he was suddenly jolted from his mental struggle between following a pair of female twins down what looked to be a heavily used mainstream passageway, or standing stupidly on the spot looking like he didn’t belong. The decision seemed obvious, that is, until it was made for him.

“Hey, you there, Sergeant,” Oman was roughly shoved on the shoulder from behind by a strong hand, which then grabbed him and turned him bodily to face the arm’s owner. “Come with me, we need someone of your rank on this.” The man was tall - an officer, by his uniform - and had short, close-cropped brown hair. His face was stern and his look superior yet stressed.

This, Oman took to his advantage.

“Sorry, sir, but I’ve been ordered to report to C deck. The Lieutenant sounded urgent, sir, so I have to-” Oman’s appeal was cut short by the Officer’s words, followed by further shoving.

“Good, your the Sergeant I requested,” he grabbed Oman and pushed him off in a direction opposite to the mainstream passageway. “They only just got the comm.’s back online, but the technician I talked to said they could go down any minute. Didn’t think you’d actually get the word, here,” Oman found himself being diverted to the side again, pushed through a half-open door that attempted to sandwich him in it’s grip. It failed, however, and Oman was marched further off down the corridor.

The next turn was through a door that seemed to be actually working, and turned out to be leading into one of the docking bays.

The sign above the door read ‘Bay 5’ in big, blocky black letters.

----------

“Yeah, right,” the stormtrooper backed off slightly, if only to be mindful that Kullum’s hands were bordering dangerously close to the blaster he held aimed the escapee’s head. The trooper cocked his head to the side for a moment, as if thinking what to do with his prisoner. He stayed that way not for long, then turned his armour-clad head back a bit, shifting his body positioning at the same time so that he could see the trooper covering him from behind.

“Masterson27, go get a J-13 Med Pack.”

“Aye.”

Kullum wondered silently what the med pack would contain, exactly, as a small bead of sweat trickled slowly over his skin. He didn’t have long to wait, though, as Masterson27 returned a short time later with the kit. It turned out that the primary instrument contained within was a sedative, far more powerful than anything a stun bolt could administer.

It was obvious reasoning, though. With all these power failures, they wanted Kullum put down - so he’d be no problem. Masterson27 moved forward quickly, needle in hand.

“Prick him.”

<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="gray">..and Oman would have headed into Bay 5 but suddenly the corridor and Bay 5 blacked out.

"I said.. ALL BUT BAY 5!" a voice shouted, probably over an
intercom. Suddenly Bay 5 lit up but the corridor remained dark.

"Now you forgot the corridor!", the voice shouted.


"Hey!" Oman asked in the dark. "What's going on?"


The voice was surprised at his intrusion. "What are you doing
here? You are not supposed to be here?"


"I don't even know where 'here' is." Oman answered and the voice grunted.


"Blame the damned techs. Electrical shorts have been happening all over the damned ship. Do not come closer.."


"What?" Oman said, his eyes trying to adjust as he stepped
forward.


"There's a ..."


"Ulp!" Oman let out a startled yelp as he suddenly felt no
ground beneath him.


"hole there."

And Oman fell. In panic, a hand shot out and grasped at a pipe (which was in reality a metal ladder rung).

His grip slipped and he saw light under him.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Sith spit!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, he thought as he saw people under him.

He grabbed a rung once more and his feet clanged against the rungs under him which, while slowing him, made him loose his grip again.

There was somebody sandwiched between two soldiers and one of the soldiers carried some sort of...

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Needle? I hate needles.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The thought barely escaped his mind when he fell onto the guard with the needle. The guard's neck instantly snapped and his hand shot out with speed that narrowly missed Kullum and punctured the other guard in his throat.

Oman got up, dusting himself off grateful for the body that broke his fall.

Grabbing one of the blasters and sifting through the man's
"stuff" he pocketed what he could.

Finally glancing at the other escapee he grinned.

"Cheerio."

And he jumped back up into the opening he had come from latching onto a rung. With a grunt, he began to haul himself back up to the floor whence he came.

Staring up he noted the flicker of lights.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Looks like the power is back up ..up there.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He sighed.

"I need a drink", he murmured.

</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

<font color=blue>Little did she know, but at that moment Terolyn shared the same sentiment.

" I need a drink."

She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing at the corners of her eyes. There had been a number of times where she found herself in difficult situations, but always she had been able to use her limitted force abilities to her advantage. However, she knew she did not stand a chance if she came face to face with the Lizard Sith again.

Frustrated, she got to her feet and began to pace the room like a wild animal locked in a cage. She licked at her lips agitatedly before biting on the lower one yet again. Her mind racing she ran through every possible escape scenario she could think of.

The man bound on the floor began to stir, and she spared him a passing glance as she paced. He seemed to grow angry the moment he realized his situation and began to fight against his restraints. The cord around his throat tightened, but he didn’t seem to notice or to care.

" Cool your engines, little man, you’re not going anywhere for the time being."

He glowered up at her, still fighting against the cable.

Terolyn sighed, drew one of the blasters from her belt, and crouched next to him. The barrel of the blaster pressed hard against his forehead, pushing his head back against the wall.

" If you insist on killing yourself I will save you the trouble, but it would be a shame to mess up that pretty bulkhead behind you with the goop you call a brain, making it very difficult to have a conversation now wouldn’t it?"

The muscles in his arms visibly relaxed, loosening the cord around his neck.

With a twisted smile she withdrew the blaster from his head.

" That’s better. Now, we’ll start with the basics. Who are you, and where the frell am I?!"

<font color=red>The words from the droid brain rolled onto the screen quickly.</font>

</font>

<font color=red>Fett nodded his head, any other person would have smart mouthed off to the droid, knowing that it had just rleayed the obvious, but the bounty hunter had no time nor interest in smart allicness.

A sigh exasperated from Boba Fett as he reeled his ship closer and closer to the Star Destroyer Carrion, focusing intently on the hangar bay that was offered. After a few moments of careful controls and light coordinated landing, he was there.

"Droid," he said before getting up to exit the Slave I. "Prepare the defenses, anyone tries to get near the ship, kill them."

He strode elegantly out of his cargo hold, equipped in what appeared to be very nice as well as expensive hunting gear. Behind his helmet, he glowered at the storm troopers approaching him, but acted as though he did not mind it.</font>

Kullum fell over backwards, tripping over one of the dead women, in an effort both to avoid Oman's timely intervention , and the needle that came swinging around in response to it, barely missing Kullum's own neck...

As he scrambled to his feet , he heard Oman's cheerful greeting before he shot back up to wherever he came from...

...dumb frellin...luck!...

(Kullum murmured to himself)...as he stood there for a moment, stunned, glancing down in disbelief at the bodies strewn all over the floor, then glanced back up to where Oman had disappeared...

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ..well if that ain't a sign...I don't know what is?...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

..and after picking up, and pocketing the rest of the contents of the medi-pack, promptly followed...


Pulling himself up onto the floor , Kullum looked around, the lights were still blinking, but walking down the corridor , Kullum could just make out the dark figure of the individual who had indirectly helped only moments before...
Running over to him, Kullum held out his hand , whilst glancing over his shoulder , still checking for anymore Guards...

..er..I guess I should say thanks... you just helped me out there.....do you make it a habit of dropping in like that?...

(he paused for a moment taking in Oman's appearence and manner...)

...something tells me you're about as welcome here as I am...

(a sly grin formed..)

...the name's Kullum...

In defiant response to Terolyn’s amateur interrogation, Hyuuk first glared harshly, and then spat at the woman’s face. His arm’s again writhed to free them, but Terolyn was on him in a second, pushing him back and levelling her stolen blaster at his head.

“<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Don’t<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> do that again, understand?” She glowered, baring her teeth.

Hyuuk took a moment to consider his position, taking in his surroundings carefully for the second time, and noting very visibly the blaster his assailant had aimed at his head. The door to the room seemed very faulty, definitely, and they were alone.

A compromising situation - but one worth risking.

“Go to hell.”

----------

Fett seemed to ride the air as he skimmed the spotless surface that made up the upper side of <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Slave I’s<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> boarding ramp. The stormtroopers waiting at it’s base certainly seemed nervous enough, but there were a lot of them.

Too many to win against in a shoot-out, in any case.

It was then that Fett noticed the obviously higher-ranking officer, uniform pristine and flawless, marching across the bay toward him - his own person trooper escort of four forming a box around his figure.

It didn’t take long for the officer to reach the waiting bounty hunter, and when he did, the words cut out short, sharp and direct.

“Boba Fett, you are to come with us, now,” the man seemed determined, but Fett stood his ground against the will of the officer, not moving an inch in the direction the man’s hand now pointed.

“The Lord Talus wishes an audience with you - we are to escort you to him <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> now<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->,” he said, an edge gained to his voice which mixed frustration and growing anger in a deadly concoction.

Wordlessly, Fett began to follow the officer. He soon found himself surrounded by stormtroopers, trapped in a box that would be very difficult to get out of if he tried.

----------

Talus himself was growing increasingly agitated, with all thoughts of Fett and whatever it was that the bounty hunter wanted pushed back in his mind so that they did not obscure his conscious thought. He was running through corridors, Uraak hot on his heels, and the last thing he needed to be thinking about now was what some bounty hunter wanted with him or his ship.

Perhaps Talus would enlist Fett’s help in tracking down this woman, and then the hunter could leave the Sith to his works... perhaps not.

Talus stopped short suddenly in the corridor, his train of thought obscured by the small but heavily significant obstacle that lay before him. Bending down, Talus plucked a small, black cylinder from the plating at his feet. So small, so insignificant... and yet, not so.

Handing Hyuuk’s commlink back to Uraak for inspection, the Sith raised his guard, and started randomly tearing down the doors of the corridor with his bare hands.

<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="gray">Oman watched in fascination as the procession left the docking bay with the Bounty Hunter. Several stormtroopers lingered for a bit and then left.


The landing bay was quiet, save for the techs milling around chatting and getting things done.

The lights slightly flickered but then remained on after that.

As Oman's eyes narrowed at the Bounty Hunter's ship when another person came up from behind identifying himself as "Kullum".

Oman turned to the person and grinned slightly, his stubble spreading with his teeth.

"Oman." he merely responded.

Scoundrels were like that.

One moment to size each other up and no blabbing to interfere with what needed doing.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What needs doing around here is ...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


Oman interupted his own thoughts as he moved into view and called a rather young tech over.

The "boy" trotted over only to be subject to the worst kind of scolding that Oman could muster.

He was so self assured and forceful was he that the tech jumped to his command without thought.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> These boys are trained to obey..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The tech ran over to the Bounty Hunter's ship with a cable and opened a panel to plug it in.

"Make sure that our <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> guest's<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> ship is PROPERLY handled!!"

"y..yes sir."


Oman was slowly backing away.


If his hunch was right...


The tech busied himself in his task, intent on monitoring the condition of the Bounty Hunter's ship since it was under their care.

Oman turned to Kullum and mouthed.." 3-2-1.."

By the time he heard the gears of the ship's protective guns it was too late.

The blaster fire incinerated the tech and alarms screamed overhead as people ran every which way to see what had happened.


Oman entered a small monitoring room, followed by Kullum,


"Just what I thought the kind of security system a Bounty Hunter would have. So... what do you think?"


It was always good sense to get another opinion from a fellow scoundrel.</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

Kullum's smirk that had appeared on his face as he watched Oman order the Tech, disappeared slightly as <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Slave 1's<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> defence systems shredded the hapless Tech to pieces..

"..well, I'm not going near it if thats what you mean!.."

Kullum, paused for a minute as he turned his focus from Oman to the ship then back again.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ..thats a Firespray..I thought those things went out of commission cycles ago..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"..its an old ship, but... its been heavily modified...with weapons mostly...Vader knows how many tricks and traps have been planted on that thing... one things for sure it ain't Imperial... "

His face grew more serious as he glanced around the room looking for something that might help...as he rummaged through the various draws and desks, he carried on talking to Oman..

".we need to disable the defenses..."

He disappeared, still talking, behind a computer console, his voice still audible but somewhat muffled as a result...

"...some kind of electrical charge would probably do it, overload the systems..."

All that could be seen is various leads and wires being thrown aside from behind the console..

"trouble is we have to be careful we don't overload the entire ship...any suggestions?....Oman?"

The Various clanking and metal scrapping noises stopped for a minute as Kullum popped his head up from behind the console...glancing around..

"..Oman?..."