Destiny's Rest

Kelaeon 'Kel' Cetar: Pilot
Location: Near the medical bay en-route to the cantina

Quietly and quickly, Kelaeon left the medical bay and began the walk toward the spaceship cantina. He hated the weekly check-ups that his new hand had required and he still wasn't used to the layout of the station. Kelaeon had only arrived a few weeks before and only done a few jobs as a pilot. Between his time in the medical bay, the weekly check-ups, and the limited amount of times he was needed, Kelaeon longed to fly a ship.

As he walked, he looked down at the mechanical hand and opened and closed it multiple times. He knew that the hand was expensive and unless he planned on screwing over Marko and stealing a ship he'd be paying it off for a while. However, the very idea of screwing over a man that had helped him and provided him with a new hand to replace the one lost in Sith captivity was revolting and wouldn't happen. As such, while Kelaeon longed to be free and to fly the space lanes as a pirate once more, he stayed. He'd seen a few chances to steal a ship and hightail it out of the area and he bet a lesser man would have done so.

Kelaeon hated being indebted and owing people, so he was determined to work hard, pay Marko back, and be free as soon as possible. He'd work hard and do whatever jobs it took until the debt was repaid. As he walked, a slight smirk crossed his face, perhaps he'd get his new ship at this station once he had enough credits.

Looking around and mumbling curses, Kelaeon continued trying to find the cantina, wanting nothing more than to get a drink to wash his dry throat and to try and take his mind off things. Back in the old days when he felt like this he'd just fly his own starfighter around, but now that he had nothing again he'd have to settle for a drink instead. That was, if he could find the cantina.

~ Destiny's Rest -- Bar and Lounge ~

A large predatory looking lizard man enters the bar. He is in dirty mechanics coveralls with the nameplate labelled "A. Aurus" and in ink, a "L" is crudely drawn in after the A making it "AL." A satchel hangs at his side, jangling with an assortment of tools. Hanging in a bunch down his back is a well worn cloak and strapped over his shoulder is a big industrial power hammer. He accidently bumps into a sullustan near the door, and without apology heads to the bar, just barely avoiding crashing into the serving girl and mananging to knock over an empty chair with his hammer hanging off his back. Finally arriving at the bar, he finds a place to stand and orders a blue milk and a shot of correlian whiskey. To nobody in particular he exclaims, "What a darn day."

Character Application

Destiny's Rest Command Deck: Operations Center

“No.”

Luka smiled, just a little.

He looked down at her hands for a moment. She held on to him like a faith healer quietly cajoling life back into a man on the brink. The clasp of her fingers around his seemed oddly intimate, out of place and unasked-for, but somehow not intrusive. He understood now that her culture’s proxemics had to be different than his own.

Luka looked back up at her face.

“I’m exactly what I appear to be. Everyone who knows me has my number down.”

He shrugged.

“But you’re right. Everyone judges everyone else by their own standards. Everyone expects others to think just like they do. And most often, they don’t even realize they’re doing it. I suppose it is what it is, though.”

Luka heard boottreads in the hall and pulled his hand away from hers, straightening in his seat. Gopan came through the door, shoulders slightly hunched, as if weighed by age. He was an older duros, skin a grayish cast, eyes more amber than orange. Luka nodded to him. Gopan nodded back. Ordinarily, Luka would have introduced his guest, but he knew Ms. Aragone’s wishes.

As he had predicted, Gopan’s eyes turned a more luminous shade as he saw the ring and Luka explained what he needed the old duros to do. Gopan took a set of tiny tools from his belt, and, hunched over the console, expertly opening the tiny device, moving, flipping the program lock trigger, then inputting the security code. It all took less than five minutes. Luka knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it if he took an hour.

He thanked Gopan, who nodded and smiled, and went on his way. Chances were, Gopan wouldn’t mention the incident to Marko at all, though if Luka were wrong, he would have some explaining to do.

When they were alone in the Ops center once more, Luka turned back to Ms. Aragone.

“There you are, Ms. Aragone. I hope that’s sufficient.”

He handed her back her ring.

“When did Hollander say you would start?”

Character Sheet

Oln laughs an uproar at Kat's idea of the Jedi. "Ha! Ooooh, I couldn't have put it better myself Cats. A true man isn't blind to himself."

It looks like he's about to say more when he notices Raxiil getting up. Oln gives a little two finger salute to her. "Any time Love. Let me know if your ever ready to settle down with a real woman. I've still got friends back home, they'd be much better for you then red headed space ditzes."

Just as Raxiil leaves Bael walks in. "Hey Bolts, finally closed I see." He motions Bael to take a seat at the bar beside Kat on the far side of the Ubese. He smirks, this could be interesting. "Oln hears everything there is to hear on the station about the war. That's the problem, that and the fact it all comes from people running away from the it." Oln grabs a beer for Bael and another for himself. "The republic and Jedi just got their ass kicked by the Sith, but you know that. I've heard the Sith are resurrecting long lost emperors as some kind of force monsters. But I doubt that, would probably feel it. I've heard that the Jedi are sending even their force sensitive children to the front since their running low on knights. Seems unlikely but more likely than force monsters. Some say the Mando'ade betrayed the republic and went back to the Sith. I'd believe it, but not till I hear it from an actual Mando'ade."

He points at a thumb at the other two, "Why don't you ask them? They both just docked they might have more reliable info than old Oln."

Nik smiles upon the droids as they not so subtly discuss the aging Duros. But again, it was time to get to work, the ship wasn't going to move itself. "Alright, we'll let you know if anything goes wrong, Cid. And we'll be right over with the estimates for the damage too."

Nik puts his cart in park. "Come on 32A, lets get this ship transferred to Bay 4,"" he says, leading the droid down over to the old scrapper. Nik was never much of a pilot, but 32A seemed like he had at least the basic programming to move the ship. Climbing up the loading ramp, he ignites the repulsors start-up sequence and waits for his droid friend to join him in the cockpit. Let's see what this droid is capable of.

Bael Rand

"Eck," Bael choked as he took a swig from the bottle. He was still getting used to the taste. "You couldn't find a cold one back there," he laughed as he finished the swallow. He listened as Oln mentioned the rumors being spread about the war mingled with the news of the huge defeat the Republic just took. It pained him to think his father was there, because if that were true, he'd probably never see him again.

Turning to the other two at the bar that Oln indicated "So are you coming from the front lines or simply

Runners being slang for supply ships. Also used for reference to smugglers avoiding taking sides. Bael obviously was intending the first meaning behind the usage.

runners?" he asked more with the curiosity of an eighteen year old than an accusation.

Bael Rand
Male Human Scout
HP 24/24, Condition Normal
Damage Threshold 11
Defenses: Fort 11, Ref 16, Will 12
Force Points 5
Additional Information:
Taking the Crippled background. Adding Treat Injury to my list of class skills.

32A makes his way into the cockpit, sitting in the pilot's chair if Nik isn't already sat there, and spends a few seconds studying the board before igniting the engines just enough to provide propulsion, and, with the repulsors already on, slowly pushes the ship backwards before putting it into a quick 180 spin to orientate it towards the station's exterior.

With his main hands on the controls, and his third hand moving around to hit switches as necessary, he pushes it out of the bay and starts heading towards Bay 4, giving the ship a little bit of a work out, but not doing anything particularly fancy, he steers it into an empty space in the bay, and softly lowers it so it just kisses the deck, before reaching to shut the controls down.

Having kept a a small amount of processing power focused on watching Nik as he flew, he turns to face him as he shuts the controls down. "Do you wish to inform him of the new bay number while I expedite the acquisition of repair equipment, or do you wish for roles to be reversed?"

I made the assumption that Nik would let him fly, I can edit that if needed

Security Section

Jack look pleased ” something stupid” answering the question about the hound ” a free droid, with a personality, who can lie, probably you gave falsified or incomplete data to be hired” seem unsure on what to do ”as security I should turn you off, send to repair and memory wipe, but you talked, collaboration get rewarded, I cancel your temporary security authorization, consider yourself under arrest, you cant leave the station without permission, finally we will meet someone high enough to decide about you, someone higher than Yaro, someone who’s a decent person, someone like Luka, the boss’s son” looking Verico then SV-T18 again” now we pay a visit to the command center, so we fix two problems with one trip” returning to Verico ” with a button press he can make you whatever you want, it’s a good, one time, opportunity” pointing the turbolifts ” after you both”

"You Could no more turn me off than you could shut yourself off. Threaten me with a memory wipe again and there will be actions taken. It must be difficult for a flesh sentient to understand, but a memory wipe is murder. It is a tool to keep slaves from ever thinking they might be worth more than slaves. Think about it, you keep beings that are capable of thought and in the case of a heuristic processor, capable of CREATIVE thought under your thumbs." SV stands slowly and holds a finger up clearly making a point "A Droid can be manufactured and programmed sure. But I am sure that some species out there can program and manufacture flesh sentient as well. You think that just because a Droid is made of metal and usually comes with an instant sleep switch you can do whatever you want with us.. You call me a Liar and accuse me of providing falsified information. That tells me that you KNOW I am alive. Are you an evil man? Would you murder a man simply for trying to stay out of something he does not want to do?" SV-T18 is a very convincing droid, showing his protocol side here. Suddenly his eyes turn red.

"THAT IS WHAT YOU ARE THREATENING ME WITH MEATBAG. MURDER FOR BEING ALIVE"

Placing an hand on his face jack shake the head ”a smart living being would have looked through my words, skipping the official stuff I must say to not end up losing my job for letting someone like you going around directly to the part of -I know someone high enough, who can be talked with, that can help you- but lets make it clear, I cant hide you but I can try to make you perfectly clean, do you understand? Or do I need to make a drawing?” crossing the arms ”your very alive, for a droid, never seen one like you, heres a deal you don’t call me meatbag I don’t talk about memory wipe” he make a pause to let the droid elaborate the new data ”oh..and don’t look at me in that way, of the two im the only one whos trying to trust the other” trust, a very rare word for a paranoid like Jack, he doesn’t seem angry, more like offended.