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The Sonata of the Star-Scavenger Quarter Zero (Space Opera, Pheonix Rising / Pazzo)

Pazzo

Pazzo

Put me on your face. It will be fun.
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Joined
Jan 4, 2015
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In front of my computer, or on my phone
A battle weary brow furrowed, as the piercing brown eyes under it scanned the area before them. A myriad of flashing lights, followed by a dazzling array of miniature flat screens displayed a multitude of data, all for the purposes of a safe landing. He felt the heavy docking feet of the Quarter Zero make contact with the landing pad, as he let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. A subtle shift in the reality around him, a sort of vertigo, told him that the ship's inertial dampeners had taken themselves offline. "Rodger that..." The pilot issued in a deep, gruff voice. "...We have touchdown. This is Zarr, closing up shop."

He fell back into his seat, and rubbed his handsome, stubble covered face with his hands. Ever since that incident on Avalon IV, landings had always made him a little nervous. Balthazar reassured himself that this was little more than a milk run. He had brought eighty tons of "Phloem Starch" to be traded, as a raw protein for making food stuffs. The stuff was bland by itself, but served as a nutritious base for flavor additives, and could be made to taste like damn near anything one could imagine.

A rather boring cargo, but legal, and valuable none the less. The miners here on Cabana would likely appreciate it. A safe run, for a considerable amount of pay. He unhooked himself from his flight harness, and snatched up the knapsack from the empty seat next to his. He donned an ammo bandolier, followed by his diffraction style blaster cannon. A conservative weapon for an uncertain area, but one that wouldn't raise too many eyebrows on a frequently traveled trading hub such as this. Cabana gas had been mined from the older, but highly reliable orbital processing station for many decades. He adjusted the straps on his sidearm, and knapsack, as he traversed the hallway to his loading ramp. Several small creatures, resembling small penguins with four arms, swarmed all over his cargo bay, checking the containers against their holographic manifests.

In about an hour, his ship would be unloaded. He trusted the Cabana, as their entire race had a well deserved reputation for honest trade, as it was almost a religion to the little flightless bird like creatures. His plan was to pick up a load of C-Gas, to be taken elsewhere in the galaxy, and sold for a profit...

The station itself was immense, shaped in the form of a colossal, slowly rotating ring about five miles in diameter. The even more immense gas giant, known as Caban, churned and broiled a considerable one thousand miles away below. Despite this, its disc took up almost one half of the available field of view. Its blue surface having the appearance of liquid cobalt partially mixed with creamy milk. A continuous jet of dark blue raw C-Gas flowed from the surface of the planet, and up through the center ring of the station, where it was siphoned off to be processed. An efficient operation, and relaxing to behold.

Ahead of schedule, and with nowhere to really be, the former smuggler decided to make his way to one of the many Cantina's that lined the inner surface of the station. Perhaps an opportunity for profit might arise, but first, the only thing on his mind was a good stiff drink. He found one such establishment only a few hundred yards away, dimly lit, and filled with many races from many different worlds. various scents and armos teased his nose, many of which were quite appetizing. Sticks of sizzling meat taunted him from across the bar. Not caring of its questionable origin, Balthazar ordered three of them, and a tall mug of chilled ale.

He then retreated to one of the corner booths, and relaxed, allowing his vision to wander to one of the many windows, as he looked outside to see a gas transfer craft slowly move into position, to grasp one of the countless blue stained gas tanks for transport. The music here was slow, soft, and relaxing. If he wasn't careful, he might just decide to nap right here. A few moments later, one of the penguin like creatures with the four arms skittered across his table, delivering his order....
 
In the still dimmer back corner, she sat, as she had for the last hour or so. She’d watched in silence as her previous ride entered the Cantina in search of her. She sipped on her drink as he asked around but no one had seen the pale woman he searched for and no one thought much of anything of the nondescript figure that sat in the dark booth.

She could see his frustration rising, how could he have lost such precious cargo? One with such distinct features? She’d paid the man well enough so she felt no remorse for ditching him as she had. As she’d done twice before, she’d just decided it was time to jump ship as it were. Though, the other two had been freighters and they’d been none the wiser of the stow away in their midst. Changing rides and direction made it difficult for anyone coming for her to get a solid bead on her. So far, the prison had kept her escape fairly quiet. It wouldn’t look good for them to have allowed such a high valued “prisoner” to pull one over on them, not to mention the rage her mother would fly into to know that they’d lost her before they could get her home. Soon enough though, she knew a galaxy wide report would go out. They wouldn’t be able to keep it quiet for too long, not when they weren’t able to deliver her home. The Nagarian Queen would start asking questions. She needed to be ahead of the game and stay there.

She’d watched as the man took his leave, watched his ship take off and soon enough, another took its place. She watched the human male disembark. Violet eyes, shadowed by the burlap hood, followed his movements intently. She studied him from a distance as he placed his order. He would do, she hoped, at least long enough to get to the next stop.

Sliding the stolen goggles up into place and situating the face covering, she slid from her own booth, drifting with silent grace toward his table just as the creature returned with his order. A gloved hand emerged from beneath the large, unflattering, floor length cloak and slid a small coin against the table. Small but it was more than enough to pay for his order and her own and then some. The penguin like creature twittered, four appendages shaking happily before it scooped up the payment and left as she gently shooed her hand at it.

Once it was gone, she slid into the opposing seat, her hands folding together in her lap, under the burlap cloak. She was silent a moment before she spoke, studying him again now that she was closer.

”Where are you headed from here?”

She asked curiously and quietly. Despite the quiet tone and the muffle of the cloth over her face, he’d be able to tell it was still distinctly female, though any manner of creature could otherwise be hidden beneath the cloak.
 
He was digging through his holopad, looking through the various offers of cargoes to be had. Many of them were boring of course, but then again this was a port light on regulations, and more than a few had been known to hide some rather quasi or even illegal goods in what was otherwise boring cargo, in order to avoid having to pay exorbitant fees. If caught, the innocent freighter captain was often held responsible.

Balthazar was if nothing else, an honest man. He had no problems running cargoes that were otherwise considered illicit, provided that the shipper was straight with him, and would pay his rates for it. He had his ship specially outfitted with shielded, hidden compartments that he had designed himself, easily defeating most scanning equipment. It detected the transmission waves being emitted from whatever scanners they were using, and then re-modulated the waves to look as if there was nothing there. Everything was ran by a series of protocol droid brains that he had liberated from a scrap heap, and they were quite grateful for a new lease on life.

However, some of the less reputable agents had developed a similar, if crude version of his tech, and had tried to mask a hidden shipment of illegal weapons parts in drums of Ankarann spice.
His lips tightened into a sneer at the very memory of that mishap. It had very nearly cost him his ship, but thanks to his fast talking ability, and the fact that the customs agent was a female that found him attractive, he was able to slide by with only having to entertain her for a single night. A small price to pay. Directly after that however he had his eyes and olfactory organs replaced with cybernetic enhancements, giving him the ability to detect such phase shifts and odors...

Speaking of which, his keen nose was picking up and discriminating a new scent upon the myriad of others that demanded his attention. This one was feminine, exotic, somewhat reptilian, and above all else, she just smelled clean... That was a first.

His keen ears picked up the sound of her otherwise forgettable robe rustling as she walked with a dignified grace that was almost barely imperceptible. They then heard the sound of the exotic metal coin making contact with the table. The smuggler looked up casually, and saw the heavily robed figure approach his table. His mind immediately sprang into action, forming a thousand and one perceptions and speculations, testing their logic, and then making a series of decisions that made the most sense.

The coin was thought about first. It was of a mint and style common to this area, and while it was of a higher denomination than most currency traded in places like this, it would do nothing to help identify her or what she wanted.

The gesture of paying for his meal was thought about second. The coin itself was more than enough to pay for his order, as well as whatever she would want ten times over. She had not asked for change, meaning she wanted the waiter to be happy and distracted, to leave them alone so they could talk. Something that she obviously did not want overheard.

The robe itself was thought about next. Made of neutral colors and devoid of any patterns or embroidery, as well as covering her body almost entirely, with her hood drawn up. She was hiding from something, and or didn't want to be noticed or remembered by anyone unless she wanted to be. That meant possible trouble with the authorities. It would be highly likely that she would want to secure transport off of this world, quickly, with as few questions as possible. Everything about his appearance told the story of a ship pilot, from his clothing, to his equipment, so that speculation was gaining favorability. Balthazar was a gentleman, and he did feel that tell tale pang of sympathy for the woman, feeling his age old mental pathways wanting to protect and provide for the female. However, he was also a businessman. He did have expenses, and this one obviously had money. Money she possibly wanted to spend on him.

The next thing to occupy his mind was the manner in which she sat down across from him. There was a practiced, uncanny grace to her movements. That told the story that she was possibly well educated, refined, or simply of a race that had an affinity for dexterity. Regardless, her movements were careful, denoting she was possessed of an intelligence he was not used to dealing with.

Her voice was... nice. He liked it, and he felt his heart skip a beat or so. He was disciplined however, and made no outward appearance. To the untrained eye he appeared to just be another smuggler acknowledging a guest at his table. If she was able to pick up on pheromones however, she might have an advantage over him. Despite not being able to see her clearly, the smuggler found her mysterious nature rather alluring.
The unknown female's question gave more credibility to his guess that she might be seeking transport.

Balthazar looked back to his holopad, and then to the violet eyes almost hidden beneath the darkened hood. "I haven't decided just yet..." he murmured to her. "...perhaps you might make a suggestion from these available runs here?" He continued, answering her question in an open ended manner, giving her the option to be ambiguous and deniable. If she was after a transport, her desired destination might be on the menu of cargoes and destinations. If not, she might suggest something else. He sat back in his booth, and let his enhanced eyes wander. No one appeared to be watching them with too much interest... He allowed his guest to peruse the digital spreadsheet, and awaited her reply.
 
Beneath the face cloth, her nostrils flared softly. Not only could she smell him, his body heat but even through the layers of her clothes, she could feel him, the masculine warmth calling to her cooler temperature. Her lips curling at the corners gently. Eyes stared at him unabashedly from beneath the goggles that helped hold the cloth in place. Indeed, she wanted to remain as low key as possible and while wearing the less than memorable robe, goggles and face covering may raise an eyebrow or two, it was far less conspicuous than if she weren’t wearing them. Clearly evident by the bare glance he’d had of her violet eyes beneath the mostly dark lenses.

Her head tilted softly, the hood shifting with the motion. Something she quickly fixed. A gloved hand snaking from her lap to right the hood before a glimpse could be had and leave her pale skin in its shadow. Then she took the offered holopad. Her gaze held him a moment longer before she let it drop, staring at the listed runs. The list of cargo itself was of no interest to her. Where it was to be delivered on the other hand, she wanted a location that was well away from here. Well away from home. Well away from Amarion. She didn’t want to pick the farthest most location either though.

After a few moments of scrolling in silence, she turned and slid the holograph back across the table directly in front of him. A slender finger pointing out a destination. Not quite the other side of the galaxy and yet, a good distance from here and whatever she was running from. The delivery fee on it was fairly substantial as well.

”I’ll make it worth your while......”

She said softly. Knowing full well her statement could be taken a number of ways, and she would let him make of it what he would for the time being, though in truth, she was not outright saying she was offering herself to him....just yet. That would be a card played later, if need be. He certainly wasn’t some disgusting, cold fish of a creature. In fact, he was most certainly easy on the eyes that stared at him from the tinted glass and his body heat almost called to her.

”I’ll match the delivery fee.”

Still her words didn’t allude to whether she meant simply making it monetarily worth his while or much more. Keep him guessing. In hopes it would secure the ride she needed.
 
Ball had to bite his lower lip as he watched her gloved hands touch and caress the surface of his tablet computer, moving in a sinuous, almost liquid way. He had a thing for a beautiful woman's hands wearing tight gloves, and for once in his life, he was beyond envious of his very own holopad. Oh to have those sexy, sultry gloved hand touch and caress his...

"Ahem..." he said to himself, almost in reply to her saying she would make something worth his while, in what could only be described as the fucking sexiest voice he had ever heard. Despite his raging arousal, the freighter captain somehow managed to keep everything under voluntary control. The only outside display of it that he had show, was a hard swallow as she talked of matching the delivery fee. The cargo itself was little more than a shipment of mechanical replacement parts for a shipbuilding foundry, out in the Devron system. The run itself was fairly standard, but somewhat distant. It was an easily profitable run in of itself. Her offer to match it, double the fee, just for taking her along for the ride? That was a deal that was entirely too good to pass up.

But then again, Balthazar was no fool. When A deal was this good, there was an element of desperation. Something must have been after her, something bad. Or, an even worse case scenario, she was after him. He had more than a few enemies, a few of which wanted him brought back alive to some isolated place, so that he could probably be tortured, or worse.

It was a big Galaxy, and there were many places to hide. As the age old saying goes, keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer, and even then, keep the women you don't know in your bed.

He just grinned that was a good plan. He never used his captains quarters anyway. The whole ship was his home. Sometimes he would pass out in one of the cockpit's seats, or string up a hammock in one of the cargo bays, as the ship flew through space at superluminal velocities. He was even fond of a crawlspace just behind the hyperdrive, with its distinct hum lulling him to sleep. Yes, that crawlspace sounded really good right about now. It had been a long day. He had made a small bed in that space, as well as a stash of emergency weaponry, as well as a secondary control panel that he could use to control and monitor the entire ship. He could use that to spy on her, hopefullly find out what her true intent was. Perhaps there was even a bounty on her head. But that would only be explored AFTER she paid him first. A man had to eat after all.

"Alright..." He murmured, as he tapped the holopad, confirming he wanted the run to ship the parts to Devron. " I'll be at docking bay 94."
 
Behind the face covering, a smirk danced across her lips. She resisted the urge to chuckle as she watched him. He had no idea what she looked like beneath the stolen goods. She could be a hideous monstrosity, she could be anything really and he had no clue. She could smell him though and he was excited.

She’d settled back against the seat, gloved hands folding primly in front of her on the table as she watched and awaited his response.

Her gaze dropping to watch as he tapped the holopad and made arrangements to acquire the run. Her head nodded once, a slow and simple bob of her head in acknowledgement. Hands disappeared beneath the cloak a moment before producing a small, nondescript, drawstring pouch that clanked softly when she set it on the table and slid it over to him.

”A percentage now, to ensure.....safe.....passage aboard your vessel.”

Her emphasis on the safe part, perhaps eluded to the fact that she was in fact desperate to get off this rock for whatever reason and was not after him at all. At least a third of her payment was nestled in the pouch. Coins of varying denomination.

She started to scoot from the seat she’d taken and stood, leaning against the end of the table.

”Enjoy your meal. I will be at the docking bay in an hour.”

She would turn on her heels and make her way from the cantina. Leaving him in peace and quiet to enjoy said meal and mull over their exchange. After acquiring an actual paid for change of clothes that she would change into later, she made her way back toward the docking bays. Keeping her distance and staying out of sight, she watched bay 94 for the next half hour. Wanting to ensure herself that once the loading crew was done loading the Devron shipment on, that he was the only one waiting for her.
 
The freighter captain watched as she sauntered away, her grace hidden to most eyes by the heavy, unflattering robe, but not to his.

His artificial eyes then locked upon the pouch, scanning it for anything out of the ordinary. It was well made, somewhat worn, but otherwise ordinary. Balthazar could of course done something similar with the female, but decided against it. It would take away her alluring aura of mystery. Where would the fun be in that? It was rare that something excited him on this level, and he wanted to savor it. Should things go bad, he always had contingiencies in place.

Seeing nothing, his irises whirred, as they shifted over to much shorter, higher energy wavelengths that could travel through the cloth. As expected, there were seveal coins within, each of them small and retangular, all of them the same size, but with the higher denominations being made of higher quality alloys. Nodding, he picked it up, and tucked it away inside of his vest.

The meal was nothing spectacular, but it was good. Just as a precaution, he tapped a few buttons on his datapad, and pulled up a series of wanted posters and offered bounties.

Nothing listed there even remotely matched her description. From what little he could see of her anyways.

About an hour later, he walked back to his ship, and couldnt help but grin. From the outside, she looked like an old, oudated piece of shit.

Most smuggling ships did. The battered exterior hid all manner of exotic aftermarket upgrades. She was no Millennium Falcon in terms of raw speed, but she was more heavily armed, and with greater cargo capacity.

Watching as a four armed penguin creature scurried up to him, chittering, he accepted the holopad it offered him, displaying the cargo manifest.

A he had to do now was wait to see if his informal passenger was still good for her little "trip"
 
She waited another fifteen minutes, just to make sure he hadn’t called upon any unwanted company to their leaving party. She would have waited just a bit longer but she didn’t want him leaving without her either. She knew if she waited too long, he would and take her ride off this rock and her money with him.

Besides, she was anxious to leave herself. She was pretty sure she couldn’t have stood waiting another fifteen minutes if she’d truly wanted to.

Her newly bought attire tucked beneath her cloak, she slipped from her watchful seat and casually, gracefully made her way toward the waiting freighter and it’s captain. Her gaze steady on him as she drew nearer, actually taking the time to look him over beneath her goggles.

As she drew up beside him, she smiled beneath the covering over her face, the shift of material barely noticeable.

”Ready, Captain?”

She asked softly.
 
Balt noticed the mysterious robed woman approach from some unseen area. Somewhere she had likely been long before, watching, waiting, scanning the area. Instead of acknowledging her with a nod or any change in his expression, he simply waved a hand dismissively, gesturing for her to walk up the loading ramp. He looked down at his holopad, and then up and around, scanning the prefabricated rooftops of the surrounding buildings for any movement, as well as the immediate area, as his artificial eyes whirred away, shifting into multiple spectrum's, but not seeing anything out of the ordinary. If anyone was watching him, and tailing his new fare, they were doing an excellent job at keeping it a secret, or staying well hidden. If they were watching him, they would see his dismissive gesture, thinking nothing of it, and not drawing attention to anything.

Just a freighter captain about his business, taking on a single robed passenger. Many races had it in their social norms to stay hidden from those outside their society, and so little eyebrows were raised in the inter system community. Diversity was a thing. Racism and discrimination still existed, but in isolated pockets.

He tapped a few boxes on his holopad, and handed it back to the nearest chittering four armed penguin.

The creature chirped happily, and scampered away. He then ascended the loading dock, right behind his new employer, and listened as the hydraulic cylinders strained as it lifted and closed, hearing the thick locking bolts secure it into place.

There was always an initial sense of calm from that hollow, metallic knock, the signal of security, and the start of a new mysterious adventure. This time, its just seemed more profound.

"You can stay in the captain's quarters..." Zarr murmured to her. "I never use it, but its clean, secure, and has a modest bathroom included." He said, as he walked around the central ring like hallway of the ship. He thought about asking her why all the secrecy, who was after her, and why such a generous tip for only taking her a few systems away...

But, she was likely just being careful. He had been on the wrong end of a bounty hunt once. Perhaps it was for the best. Instead, he just settled for something more generic.

"So, what should I call you?" He breathed gently...
 
She moved with silence and grace up the loading ramp. Her covered gaze sliding over the interior of the freighter as she stopped and waited a ways along the hall for her Captain to embark. As she waited, she removed the goggles and face covering. Unhooking the clasp that held the drab and dreary, nondescript cloak locked about her throat.

She slipped the dark hood down as she listened to his footsteps clang closer behind her. Revealing a clean, off white hood in its place.

”Is it warm?”

She inquired curiously. The pale hood was swept back as well, revealing pale white hair, drawn back into a pearlescent clip at the crown of her head. She did a final cursory look around before turning to face Balthazar.

Slitted Amethyst eyes pinning him in their depths. Iridescent scales caressing along her jawline and down below the diamond broach that held the second cloak in place. Pale skin glistening softly beneath the lights that lined the hall.

”Trinity. And you are?”
 
When she revealed herself to him, he took a moment to collect himself. She was absolutely stunning. For several seconds, his mouth dropped, as his brain short circuited.

Was she reptillian? He had traveled the galaxy from one end to the other. It was a big place, and he had seen many beautiful females from many races, but this one. This one was new. "...umm..." he stammered for a minute, until her shook his head, clenching his eyes for a split second, trying to blink away the fog that had couded over them.

"Yes..." He half wispered, half said, as if he had lost his breath. "Yes." He said again, in his normal, deep voice, in a semblance of full control again. "...The room has full environmental control, independant from the rest of the ship, as well as humidity control." He said, as he led inside of the small, but cozy space, pointing out the LCD touch screen mounted to the wall just above the kitchenette.
 
She watched him quietly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as he stammered. Her head canting curiously before she watched him pass and followed him to the captains quarters.

As she moved behind him, she finished slipping from the drab cloak. Draping it over her arm as she clutched the goggles and face covering in her gloved hand.

When he turned into the room he’d offered her, she paused in the doorway briefly before sweeping past him, dropping the stolen items to the bed, she unclasped the royal cloak from her waist and shrugged out of it as well. Leaving her in the dress she’d been captured in. Shoulders, cleavage and part of her midriff exposed, the off white color a lovely contrast to the iridescent purple scales that danced along the paler white of the rest of her flesh.

Dropping the second cloak to the bed as well, she slipped up behind and beside him, close enough to soak up some of his body heat as she looked quietly over his shoulder while he explained the intricate controls of the screen.

”Mmm.”

She murmured and nodded lightly in acknowledgment before her head canted, white hair trickling over a shoulder as amethyst eyes pinned him curiously in their depths again.

”Your name is....’Yes’?”

Her lips curled teasingly at the corners. Mischievously prompting for his name again.
 
"I uh..." He stammered helplessly, realizing he had just been caught in an awkward predicament. She was however smiling, her body language suggesting she was not repulsed by him, possibly even interested. He decided to just chalk it up as a point in her favor. "...Something tells me a lot of men would be happy to let you call them whatever you like." He murmured back to her. She looked even better with her midriff completely bare, delicious even.

"Ahem... My name is Balth E. Zarr" He replied, smiling a little "Your captain for this little trade run. My ship of course..." as he rapped on the side of her metallic hull. "Is known as the Quarter Zero. Shes unassuming, and likely perfect for someone who's looking to travel somewhere and not be noticed. Speaking of which..." He then said, in a more serious tone. "...I wont ask for the details, but in the event someone would give me trouble on account of you, what kind of a fight would I be looking at?
 
A wide smile curled her lips, her head dipping slightly. A chuckle dancing from the slender column of her throat as her attention drew back up to him.

”Well, ‘Yes’ is a very unique name and if you really insist....”

A bare shoulder rolled as she folded her hands in front of her stomach. She settled still, standing quite primly as she listened to him deliver his name.

”Balthezar....”

She repeated in a murmur, an acknowledging bob of her head. Her gaze shifting to the hull he patted. A pretty smile sliding across her features as she drew her eyes back to his.

”She is quite perfect and why I chose the both of you.”

She admitted. His final question was met with a momentary silence before she answered.

”A great one.”

Her tongue darted over her bottom lip. The lights dancing across her scales as she shifted on her feet as she prepared to give him more details than what he’d actually asked for. He’d been kind enough not to ask too many questions already and despite the hefty amount she’d agreed to pay, she thought he deserved to know exactly what he may be up against.

”I imagine that if the entirety of the Confederacy isn’t already looking for me, they will be and soon. Backed and aided by the Nagarian Army. Hence I’m so willing to pay so generously.”

She fell silent and took a small step back. Letting him process the gravity of her admissions. Her gaze intent on him and what his reaction might be.
 
He lightly stroked his stubble as the beautiful woman spoke, his mind and ears savoring every syllable that her luscious lips uttered. He felt an initial surge of pride as her lovely mouth murmured her approval of his ship, and of him, only to be replaced with a bit of concern.

The tramp freighter captain was of course expecting trouble. The kind of money she was offering rarely came along with it. When her initial reply came of "A great one," His brow furrowed slightly. He wanted something more quantified, such as a name of a group, and the type of ship they would have, That would of course lead him into one of two pre planned reactions; fight back, or just evade.

He opened his mouth as if to ask that question, only to have it answered in advance. The confederacy itself was a powerful, interstellar organization, with a well equipped and funded military. His quarter zero could take on any of their own similar sized ships one one one, as most of his freighter's equipment was taken from such vessels. He could likewise outmaneuver them, as he was not bound by the same limitations of military doctrine. He could likewise outrun all of them save for the swiftest of scout chips, but even if they caught him he could easily outgun a swarm of them with no ill effects.

The Nagarian's however... Balthezar let out an audible groan. That was a private army, even better armed and funded than the confederacy. The quarter zero had more than a few salvaged or stolen parts from the odd Nagarian ship, and that technological advantage had always provided him with an edge. Ship to ship, he might survive a one on one encounter with moderate damage, but they always flew in formation of no fewer than four.

He rubbed his chin. "Alright..." He murmured. "...I am familiar with both organizations. Speed however will be the order of this little voyage then. I now of a few little known backroads we can take, and avoid the regular blockades." He said, as he cast a look back towards his engine room, wondering what kind of tweaks he could make to get a little more out of his FTL drives. "...I would however, like a name of the primary individual that is so interested in finding you. Chances are I might know him already though. You answer would just confirm my suspicions."
 
She licked her lips and swallowed thickly. This was where it got tricky. If she opted not to tell him, his suspicions, as well as his willingness may well run dry. If she told him, she ran the risk of him turning on her and turning her over for a higher bounty than what she could possibly give him.

He could also be a man that held true to his word. One that wouldn’t turn her over to either faction. She couldn’t say, if she were being honest. Then again, any other creature she may have gotten to whisk her away....she could say the same about. His pause and willingness to continue on this venture, taking lesser known back roads and speed, spoke volumes.....that perhaps regardless of what her answer would be, he would continue to help her, she hoped.

It was a risk she ran. A great one to herself.

”Not a him. It’s my mother. The Queen of Nagaria.”

She answered quietly.
 
Zarr felt his heart sink, as he clenched his teeth together, his lips curling back into a little bit of a snarl. He had imagined it was a General, or a lesser noble, but the Queen herself? That was at least two orders of magnitude above the worst case scenario he had imagined. The air hissed through his teeth as he drew it in.

"Damn..." He murmured, as he felt a very human chill creep up the left side of his spine, like icy little fingers wriggling in between the vertebra, causing the most unpleasant of tinglings. It was true. in terms of personal gain, it would have been far more profitable to just lock the errant princess into the captains cabin, and keep it locked. He had already outfitted it to be used as an adhoc prisoner containment facility. He had used it many times before. Let the scream and beg and cry. It did'nt matter. He simply showed up, dropped off his quarry, and collected the bounty. He had never once felt bad about any of it before, so why should he start now?

"Because that wouldn't be as much fun..." he whispered audibly.

The queen of Nagaria reach was long, and her pockets were deep. There would litterally be no where they could hide. It was not a question of if they were found, but when.
If he were to be captured alive, he would likely be tossed to the queen's interrogators with nary a side glance. He would never be found after that.

He felt conflicted. What to do. Even if he brought her back, there was no guarantee he would make it out of Nagarian space alive. News would travel quickly of how much he was paid for the princess's return, or the queen would not want the news of her daughter trying to leave to create a scandal. It was just a mess, and there was no way out of it.

This...Princess had told him this outright. She had been honest, and direct, true enough, but if only she had done it at the damn table, before she had gotten on his ship. The cantina was likely being watched already, or swarming with a shock team of the queen's special forces.

The was no way back, there was only the path forward. "Right..." He said, looking at the woman directly. Their proposed cargo run would have to be scrapped. The ship's cargo and destination would just have to be scrubbed. They could be tracked that way... It would be best if they took an alternate route, the long way around as it were. He could deal with late fees a lot better than coming back from the Nagarian torture pits with no arms and legs...

Balthezar made a brisk pace towards his engine rooms, to pause, and turn to face his fare. "Are you coming?" He said with a sense of urgency. "...The required engine tuning would go faster with two people..."
 
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