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(Star Wars: Crucible of Shadows) Ep 1. Ch. 1

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Tenshi

Tenshi

Supernova
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Jan 30, 2010
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In the Moonwood, chasing unicorns.
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

Star Wars: Crucible of Shadows
Episode 1: Strange Hybrid Flowers

Nearly two centuries after the battle of Yavin, the Galaxy stands divided between the free and proud people of the Galactic Alliance—successor to the new Republic—and the Empire. Though the two interstellar nations are officially enemies, tensions slowly decline between them. This is largely the result of Emperor Ronan Fel's progressive and reformationist policies, phasing slavery out of the Empire and offering full citizenship to non-humans.

The Jedi Order persuades the Yuuzhan Vong—descendents of a species of invaders from a foreign galaxy—into an attempt at reconciliation with the Galactic Alliance. As a gesture of restitution, a group of Yuuzhan Vong biotech masters known as Shapers undertake a great project to restore a planet ravaged by their own weapons a century ago—with promises to do the same to many other worlds in return for membership in the Alliance.

Through unknown methods, a mysterious saboteur corrupts the living tools that were released to rebuild the planet, created instead a horrific mutagenic plague that twisted the world's surviving life into tortured monsters.

Before the Vong could discover the source of the mutation, the Galactic Alliance struck against them, driving them into hiding. For their association with the Vong, the Alliance withdrew their support to the Jedi order.

Before the Jedi can begin to make political amends, a great fleet of Darksiders supported by Imperial forces dropped out of hyperspace and assailed the Jedi temple. Tens of thousands were slain, and what few survived were hounded throughout the galaxy.

The Sith had returned.

Even in times dark as these, some remember that it is the dedication and heroism of the individual that can change the world. Guided by the Force, Seska Kree—a Jedi master in hiding—gathers small cabals of powerful operatives to oppose the One Sith. She searches for the scattered Jedi to bring them together. She seeks the hidden fleets of the Galactic alliance and the exiled Emperor.

Now Seska Kree gathers some of her more powerful operatives on board the star ship Crimson Falcon, a medical freighter equipped for blockade running and other combat zone operations. “I want you all to deliver these medical supplies to planet Donovan V. The people there are suffering badly from poisons and radiation that have seeped into their soil since the wars in the Palpatine Era. Protect yourself with the Rad Tabs the Ithorians will provide you while you are there. Distribute the medicines we have sent...
​

In a space dock on an Ithorian herd ship, on board the Crimson Falcon, Melaara waited for cargo droids to arrive with crates upon crates of medical relief supplies. She expected both her ship and Elysium--which was to be joining them--to be packed to bursting. Their Ithorian patron had promised analgesics, antibiotics, several thousand units of bacta, several million rad-tabs, water purification tabs, antivenoms, and highly concentrated vitamins to aid in the recovery of malnourished humanoids of the primary sorts believed to inhabit Donovan Five.

Melaara knew—however—that their mission extended beyond delivering relief supplies to a world that had been devastated by war repeatedly since the Palpatine Era—a world where over half the land was either poisoned or irradiated by weapons of mass destruction.

Seska Kree's enigmatic message—delivered to her, at least, by a seemingly random droid—asked that they make this possible. The sapphire skinned Jedi master had also said "Distribute the medicines we have sent, but take care. The shadow of the Dark Side lies over this planet. It clouds my vision and I cannot get clear view of what threats might await you there. I want you to be my eyes, to see for me what dark things the Sith may be doing here. I want you to be my scalpel and lance this boil of profane puss."

“Oh, and while you're there, plant a flower garden. The others will help you.”

* * *​

The messages the others will have received said, “And while you're there, I want you to plant a flower garden.

“The captain of Crimson Falcon is Melaara. She's a Codru'ji, and she is six months pregnant. Melaara will know what I mean about the garden, and she will know that I sent you by learning I asked this of you.”

To Melaara, the garden could only mean one thing, though she didn't really know what that one thing meant. When she'd received this ship from her felinoid teacher, the smuggler’s hold was already full of rust red flower bulbs. The droid on board had instructed her they were to be kept out of direct light until the time came to plant hem.
 
Nikita, the dark blue skinned girl was trying to be useful and helped with the droids and filling the ship's cargo, keeping track of weight distribution too. While inertial dampers took care of most of it, being filled to capacity meant that it would be easier on the ship's systems if packing was done right. She even programmed in the crew's stuff and personal weight - those internal sensors and all those droids around being a big help with measuring approximately with the right 'nudging'.

Of course the Chiss young woman was also nosing around, and doing multiple searches into all kinds of databases to get information about the places, races, specific persons, and even things, like ships, droids, the content of the medical supplies, even whatever those boxes contained really and not just on the manifest. The supposedly garden seeds would get a little extra visit from her later on too...

Understanding the technical things was easy for her, and with the help of her trusty - and seemingly dusty and rusty - Death Star looking 'medical' droid, Nikita also understood what would be called 'life sciences' - everything about the races, medicines, radiation...

What she still missed from the equation was the personality and drive of the others around her, and the real state of the target area. Those would come soon enough...
 
Deep within the vehicle bay of the ship, a raucous noise could be heard, the tortured sound of a hard driving music echoing out of a rusted beat up R2 unit's shell as it tooled around a swoop bike partially disassembled. A tall, wiry shape was busy lowering a set of armaments into the cowling, cursing the entire time. Standing as the last bolt was locked down, Chadra-Ji, looked about, wiping the sheen of sweat from her forehead. "Is it time Pee-Oh?" She asked in a husky voice.
 
Despite being in the late-mid term of her pregnancy, Melaara Veran was not the type to stand by and let others work without at least pitching in, herself. As she hefted a rather large crate in her lower pair of arms, a medical droid happened to wander by, pausing to greet the five and a half foot codru'ji woman. "Melaara.. are you sure you should be carrying that? I thought you were advised to stick to light duty except where absolutely necessary.."

"This IS light duty," the four armed woman replied with a slight grin.. indeed even though many others would have considered lifting the large crate hard or maybe even impossible, the weight seemed to barely even strain Melaara as she carried it into the cargo hold of the Crimson Falcon.

While she moved in and out of the Crimson Falcon carrying one box after another, the purely physical exercise allowed her mind to wander, to contemplate the nature of Master Kree's warning. Particularly, she wished that Kree had been able to give her more information about the strange flowers she would be transporting... were they even legal? And the bit about keeping them out of the light.. flowers and plants that perished in light were not unheard of, but something in her gut told her that there had to be more to it than that.

The four armed woman was so lost in thought that she almost walked right past the dark blue girl who had apparently been assisting in the loading of her ship. Approaching the chiss girl, she waved with her upper right hand, "Hey there.. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Are you part of the new crew?" Though she worried it might seem rude, she was careful not to introduce herself, since she knew that Kree would have given the others her description and that, along with her cryptic directive, was the only way she would know that it was someone she could trust.
 
The purely mental exercise of tapping on a datapad and occasionally direct the droids with her hands let Nikita wander around, but not being under foot - or at least not under foot to those that she could see the routing for.

"Me?" she replied, the Basic words slipping out with curiousity "I hope so, at least I was taken on as a passanger, but I do not want to be idle... Idle hands and minds wander, and can cause problems for someone." Taking a good look at the four armed pregnant woman, the red eyed young turned to the datapad and tapped it fast. "Oh! Melaara'veran'codruji, let me introduce myself, I am Inrokini’kita’viv, and hope to help you too in any way I can."

It seemed she was interested in everything around her, this time much of her interest was turned towards Melaara, but still, she kept glancing at the datapad, and tapping once in a while. "Call me Nikita, that is easier. And that box goes to the coordinates... but let me show you. Here, this way." she almost stated the coordinates in Binary, but remembered that even computer sawy people usually had problems with understanding and speaking it out loud.

"Do you want a second opinion on that droid's advise? Not that I would know the difference between normal or pregnant you, but I heard that it could have changes on one's state of being." meanwhile she tried to navigate them to the destination of the large crate, leaning out the way and squatting, as she moved around the four armed Melaara with the sizeable ... well, sizeable everything. Also, Nikita kept re-routing the levitating droids to work on filling other parts of the holds.
 
A small fleet of labor droids on treads rolled down form the back of a fleet of tucks, bearing hundreds of crates.

While organizing the labor droids to pack things as carefully and effectively as possible, Nikita was able to hack both the droids and the crude computers that inventoried the crates. Both the creates and the droids believed that their manifests were accurate. Small, portable medical supplies enough to help a population of millions begin to overcome the poisoning, radiation and starvation that afflicted their home planet.

Not a single one, either loaded into the Falcon or earmarked for the Elysium contained seeds, spores, bulbs or any other item relevant to planting a garden. Was it just a password? A way to let Melaara know that Seska Kree had sent her without any further meaning?

The time, talent, and treasure that made this great work of philanthropy possible had been paid by all citizens of the Herd Ship voluntarily—in the form of a public vote—forfeiting three times their usual taxes for one month in order to pay for the relief effort. An Ithorian doctor named Fandomir had spearheaded the action and taken charge of the organization.
 
"We are lucky the threaded ones help with the packing, or the few hoovering ones on loan from the port wouldn't be enough..." Nikita shared the tidbit of information, partially to tell the four armed future mother that she does not need to carry anything, but also as an idle conversation. "Curious... there is no seeds or anything to plant a garden with. Maybe we would need to get those supplies on the planet? Also, I am no gardener..."
 
Chadra appeared in the main hold and looked between the two ships, a smirk of recognition on her lips at the sight of one of them. Getting the workers to load it, Chadra strolled up to the group looking between the people. Having left her coveralls hanging around her waist, all she had on underneath was a ratty old shirt, with more holes than cloth, and suspenders running to her trousers. Her R2 tooled alongside her chattering in it's own language.
 
Aboard the Falcon, after a perfectly smooth docking, of course it was , the pilot swept a long fingered hand through tousled chocolate curls as he stood down from trip through hyperspace, an unusual rendezvous, and now everyone was off to plant flowers. Flowers. Gardening wasn't his forte, but whatever the Captain wanted. Her ship, I just fly her. He thought as he came down the main companionway to the cargo holds.

"Heyla Captain, so where do you want me?" Jax grinned, white teeth pearlescent against his dusky skin. He flashed a devilish grin at the cutely chubby preggers Captain, who likely would have him keelhauled if he dared say it aloud.
 
Elysium was docked on the herd ship, and was, all things considered, ready to depart. Kaloh had already purchased the necessary fuel and rations, but little else, his hold nearly full of what medical supplies couldn't fit on the Falcon. Some Ithorian art found its way into the cargo hold, as Ithorians were far more adept at art than was commonly admitted in the corporate world, their simplistic style and emphasis on nature clashing with the more industrialized style of most of the wealthy. Still, vacation homes and retreats often featured Ithorian murals, and Kaloh could not resist taking advantage of the current goodwill by loading up. The Ithorian were, it seemed, amazingly grateful for the assistance, as well as reassured that even in times of crisis, their cultural contributions were as needed as their practical ones. Kaloh filled the small space he had remaining. He had spent almost all of his allotted budget already and hadn't even really begun, but he'd at least earmarked the funds for his monthly ship payment and expected upkeep costs. Besides, his droid Iris was quite on top of his finances.

With Iris left back on the ship, he allowed his two slaves to accompany him to meet his contact. He wished that he'd had some type of challenge phrase for Melaara in exchange for his own, but a large, muscled, visibly pregnant Codru-Ji was likely to be rare enough to trust to process of elimination. If their enemies were able to learn that identity and find a match in the time all was sent out, then they had earned whatever constituted victory for them. Besides, ambushes rarely turned out as expected for anybody, and his armor generally dissuaded opportunists.

Seeing a woman who matched the description, he approached cautiously, acknowledging the work being done. "Quite a bit to plow through," he said. He, of course, had hired someone to load his ship for him.
 
"Bringing in a mechanic to grow a garden..." Chadra shook her head as she stopped by the group looking about. She spoke soft enough that it was just a conversorial piece to any overhearing it. Grinning she nodded at Kaloh with a grin, "Requesting permission to keep you from breaking your ship?" Tossing her bag onto PO with a clang she crossed her bare arms across her chest, making the ratty old shirt she was wearing under her coveralls seem even more indecent. "Chadra-ji reporting for duty."
 
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Cassandra Nightrazor

Out of deference to the peace and serenity of the Ithorians, the ginger haired mercenary kept most of her weapons packed away in a heavy case over one shoulder as she strode out into the loading bay. The redhead was still fairly intimidating, though, clad in a full suit of heavy combat armor and with a blaster pistol at her belt.

Some of them might recognize the armor. Though she'd redone it in black and chrome, it was still clearly a model used by Galactic Alliance heavy commandos.

“Captain Melaara?” She began, meeting the Codru's eyes and then glancing breifly down her body. Then she looked around at the man in mandalorian armor, flanked by two comely slave girl. “And Captain Kaloh if I'm not mistaken?

“Call me Cassandra. I understand you've got a contract from the ithorians to haul medicine and I was hoping to sign on? I can provide security services and operate star ship gunnery. I'm also cross trained to do basic and systems operations for most stations. Oh, and I brought a trowel.
 
The sound of another pair of boots striking the landing bay floor was easily drowned out by the multitude of droids moving around, not to mention the various voices that were adding to the tumult. The new arrival to the scene stood there for a moment, surveying the rather interesting group that seemed to be joining there. He himself was a bit of an interesting figure, looking much more a spacer than a warrior, which was his intent. A long leather coat with sleeves down to his wrists helped to conceal the gauntlets he wore, a dark blue undershirt, black pants and combat boots rounded out his outfit. Kamran was of course carrying weapons, notably a heavy blaster pistol on his left hip, but the items that truly gave away who he was were hidden or packed in the large duffel he was carrying in his right hand. The weapon he most valued was hidden in a sheath at his lower back, his lightsaber, ready to be summoned if needed, but he doubted that would be necessary.

"I was told this was where all the other gardeners were meeting," Kamran stated as he strode further into the room. He glanced around, then went on, "I was told that I was to be with the crew of the Elysium. Would anyone care to tell me which of these ships that might be and who is leading this whole thing?"
 
Strolling into the hangar in her civvies (a sweat-stained undershirt and combat pants) with most of her gear in a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder, Tasya kept her distance from the assembling crew, saluting their mutual contact were she noticed by the Codru'ji. She had only mild technical experience and no desire to upset whatever system her new captain had set in place to govern the loading of the "expedition's" supplies.

The assembling group had an unusually high number of aliens (though she supposed her most recent occupation may have skewed her perception somewhat), but they all looked to at least know what they were doing. Even the Codru'ji, Captain Veran if she hadn't missed her mark, looked like she could handle herself while six months pregnant. The only unwelcome surprise was this Cassandra. She was showing up at the last minute to inquire about a job that, at least as Tasya herself had interpreted it, wasn't supposed to be readily known to the public. Perhaps though, something had fallen through the cracks and she was genuinely interested. She looked computable at least.
 
The dark skinned girl, Nikita, with the borrowed datapad, tried to pull back into the shadows, but still following the new arrivals. Also, she was tapping faster, trying to come up with information about the newcomers - at least their races and equipment, if not their whole background that was on computer. After all, she already linked herself up with the herd ship, and the accessible libraries. And some not legally accepting ones too. So, at least she would know how these people came to be there... which ship bought them, and what was shared with the Ithorian authorities.

But she was keeping everything for herself... being less Xenophobic than most of the Chiss still meant that she really had no obvious friends or even allies among them, just tentative not enemies at the moment. And she was without any weapon too... Lucky she remembered that she still had access to most of the droids all around, it helped her usual calmness to remain, even while faced with the situation.
 
"A second opinion?" the four armed woman replied to Nikita, "I'm not the type to turn down advise from anyone. I can tell you, however," the codru added, glancing down at her swollen belly, "that yes there certainly have been changes. Fortunately," she turned to the droid with a teasing expression on her face before turning back to the chiss, "the ability to lift and carry a crate that weighs half of what I do is not one of them."

She smiled as the other girl continued, then nodded. "I appreciate the help. Still, I could use the exercise. I don't intend on sitting back on the ship while the rest of you carry out this mission. And it seems we will all be gardeners of a sort, whether we want to be, or not."

Returning Jax's greeting, she offered him a smile in return. "You can help with the loading if you would like, but apparently we have all the help we need. Other than that, assuming the ship is ready to go when everything and everyone is in place, I would say you are free to your own devices. Might be worth hanging around to meet the others who will be joining us in this venture."
 
Melaara was certainly grateful to have another ship on this venture. She smiled widely as she noticed the Elysium's captain walking over to greet her. "You must be Captain Kaloh. It is a pleasure to meet you," she offered as she held out her upper right hand in greeting. "And yes, quite a bit indeed. Together I'm sure we can do quite a bit of good."

One of the girls standing behind Kaloh was a nagai, wearing a long black cloak which fell off one bare shoulder. Her expression was all business, and she seemed to be glancing around very intently as the others started to gather, but she remained silent at least for the moment.

Turning to the human woman who had approached both captains, she smiled and offered a hand to her in greeting, as well. "Nice to meet you, Cassandra. Your services will be most appreciated. As will your trowel," she added by way of accepting that the other girl had given a variation of the code phrase proving that she had been sent by Jedi Master Kree.
 
Kaloh was quick to recognize the Rattataki that had helped design the engines of the new Ghtroc 750. It hadn't been free, of course, as he'd helped design the user interface and heads-up display for her swoop bike, but he had enjoyed working with her. "I doubt you can keep me from damaging it. You know how poor a pilot I am. You are welcome to any repairs, however. Speaking of which..." he pulled out a small, simple datapad, checking something on it. "I feel it would be best if your droid handled mechanics of the Crimson Falcon."

It wasn't hard for his attention to soon be caught by the only person who appeared more prepared for combat than he was, the red-haired human woman. He nodded in greeting when she addressed him and again when she referenced the challenge statement they'd all been given. He tapped in her name on the Falcon's crew, just as he had with Chadra-Ji and her droid.

When the Chiss approached (the first Chiss, at least), Kaloh discreetly darted his glance to his holster with practiced nonchalance, the rest of his face neutral. Despite being seemingly unarmored, a large bulge on his hip indicated that he was likely carrying a blaster, and the confidence of his stride betrayed a readiness for trouble. So this is my co-pilot. Rarely one to tolerate even unintentional intimidation, Kaloh answered confrontationally when asked about his ship. "It's the one you'd least want after you. I'm her captain."

He shifted his attention back to the Codru-Ji, accepting the offered hand. "I am, and a pleasure as well."
 
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Avara Mirim

A buxom young twi'lek wearing a little black dress and a golden collar stood quietly at stood behind Kaloh as well. Despite the signs of bondage, she stood with grace and pride, wearing a rather large blaster pistol on her hip and a number of golden bracelets.

Eyes like amethysts surveyed the room with keen curiosity, and occasionally something in one of the assembly excited her enough that she vibrated in place, but quickly regained her graceful composure.
 
Nikita's ruby eyes met amethyst, as she lurked on the premises. The young Chiss was categorising the people in her head, and trying to find some common ground with each of them if it came to conversation... Or at least, she would be ready if any of them cornered her for some personal meet and greet. Nikita had done what she had to, made contact with the Captain. Even let her know she was awailable to help with anything... and sent her a memo for later reading about that 'Second Opinion'... Of course Nikita was not entitled to make any diagnosis if it was not about a machine, but having a supposedly medical droid hoovering in her cabin gave her options.

If she had to bunk with another from the crew or passangers, she had better choose wisely. Not everyone wanted to share with a Chiss and a miniature Death Star. At least she had a pun ready in some languages for that introduction...
 
[img=200x300 align=right]https://mayhemandmuse.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/sakimichan-photoshop-digital-painting-manga-anime-character-photorealistic-life-like.jpg[/img]

Raynee Novi

Despite having been personally trained in the use of the force and infiltration tactics by Seska Kree, they where never fully open about their own secrets even when had shared very intimate moments. As such Raynee Novi was not surprised when she got this weird message, there would be reasons for such cover.

She also considered prudent not to give her name so freely to others in the ship yet she didn't know if Seska had given her full name to captain Melaara, her last name would be enough for now so she would just present herself as Officer Novi for now.

shapechange roll to appear human
1d20+30=38


The human young adult woman looked fairly weak physically and carried no weapons on sight yet she seemed very able to do her job. She was very serious and every attempt to look through her was impossible as their visors isolated her from unwanted eye contact, or that was what it would seem, but if she was sent by master Kree she should alse be able of more.

She had been watching the whole scene for a while without letting herself be noticeable, seemed most of these others knew nothing about the mission as well. Damn you Seska, why do you have to always be so secretive about your missions. A couple of people got her attention besides Melaara though, those being Kaloh, the captain of the Elysium, for he had not one but two slaves and that annoyed Raynee yet that would have to wait as she was assigned into the other ship, and a Chiss girl who was carefully watching everyone and either checking them or filing them on a datapad, did she had some data on her? that was Raynee priority right now.

Heading her way into the very same shadows the Chiss had pulled back to Raynee stepped out of her concealment and spoke casually as if she had been there all the time, "Hello there, seems I'm not the only one who likes watching from a safe spot" she approached Nikita and greeted her and the pointed out to the datapad she held in her hands, "Nice to meet you I'm officer Novi, I'll be taking care of the sensors in the Crimson Falcon" quickly taking a chance to use her technometry to find out every bit of information Nikita could have about her before the Chiss would step away. Having Nikita actually linked into the ship computer was useful as she could be sure of everything they knew about her.

1d20+20=37
2 pieces of secret information obtained, more if info is not secret
 
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"Oh, here you are!" the Chiss reacts unsurprised at her appearance, nodding lightly. Nikita had noted the use of the entrance to the dock, and was aware that the numbers did not add up to the persons and droids she had already noted, and tried to identify. "There are many who watch from the shadows... We have eyes everywhere, sensors, and we are always watching... But not every one of us have clear intentions." then she stops being serious with a silly grin.

"Hello Officer! It is really great to have you applied to be responsible for the Sensors onboard the Crimson Falcon, I would be happy to serve under you as the Operator!" the girl was typing in binary, pulling up information about all and any Novi's, officer or not, human or not, trying to narrow the exotic young woman's possible arrival on the Hiveship, and pull up all of Custom's information and sensor logs. For her to be an officer, she must have license, and possibly a background check and credit informations. Also, Nikita seemed to have all of her information from the medical freighter's computer too.

Lucky for the Chiss girl there was a lot of other data that her programs could work with. Sensors from all around them, from the corridors, from both ships, from the numerous droids scurrying around packing, cleaning, or just transporting goods... Well, except the heuristically brained ones which had their autonomity and could choose not to provide data. But that would mean that they was not getting any either.

"I am still trying to pack all of the supplies tightly into the Falcon, and people are still arriving. Maybe you better report to the captain over there... You can't miss her, with the lightly bronzed skin and the raven black hair..." she was secretly having fun, not sure if the human girl was really who she told she was, but Nikita was working on it - and would be still working on it, watching, while their way went the same direction.

The young Chiss had enough on her palette, but when finished with filling the holds with the medical supplies, she would turn to fill the other parts too, or at least check if they had all the fuel, food, and other supplies onboard, before she turned to the personel - if they had no cabins until then, Nikita would be happy to assign them to everybody and make sure their slaves and robots was calculated in too.
 
Kamran's attention was pulled to a white haired man that addressed him, specifically answering his question about the ships. He couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at the man's bravado, something he could appreciate in a fellow who was trying to make it clear that he was in charge, for it seemed that he was being addressed by the Elysium's captain. The Chiss male was about to extend a hand to introduce himself when the white haired fellow's attention was pulled elsewhere.

Red eyes drifted over the assembling group, curious about those that would be joining. He could not help but notice the other Chiss, a young woman, who seemed to be darting about all over interjecting herself in all manner of conversations. Kamran couldn't help but wonder what her purpose was, but decided that he wouldn't ask. By the looks of it he would lose an ear to conversation.

His eyes were also drawn to the purple skinned twi'lek who seemed to be hovering behind the Elysium's captain. Her dress certainly complimented her form, but it was the golden collar around her neck that really intrigued him. The implication of it was simple enough; she was someone's slave. But the truly intriguing thing was that she was carrying a blaster. It was evident that her owner trusted her.

The man's gaze drifted back to the captain of the ship he would be serving on. "Captain. My name is Kamran Asher. I was told I would be serving as the co-pilot aboard your vessel. It seems more than a bit busy out here, so perhaps we can speak in private before we launch? I can go on board and get settled in, then I can start checking the ship over if you don't mind."
 
It was a simple matter to send her droid on the Crimson Falcon. "If that's where my skills will be best spent, I'm there." She looked amongst the others gathered, eyes darting from weapon to weapon as well as the hands and faces of each
"So when do we begin?"
 
Kaloh offered an appreciative smile to the Rattataki. "Wonderful. Crew seems sorted then. Just need to wait for the rest of our 'passengers.'" His attention returned to the cheap datapad on his person, confirming all the crew members that had identified themselves. Kaloh was, after all, a relative stickler for administration.

A terse "mhm" was, initially, Kaloh's only reply to the Chiss who'd requested a private audience with him. More importantly, he wanted some time on the ship before the rest came aboard. That was the more problematic request, as he did not want him left alone.

He held up a finger to the Chiss and turned to Mirim and Nira, his two slaves. "I am going to accompany our co-pilot to Elysium. Stay together and escort our remaining crew and passengers to me once they are all ready."

Returning to Kamran, he nodded and began walking off slowly.
 
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