>>5531806“He’s a member of my crew, and you are all currently guests aboard my ship. If I even think you’re harassing him…”
You let the threat hang in the air, and leave their imagination to conjure up an appropriate punishment.
“…oh, and I also have a Separatist Tactical Droid as my butler…”
>>One return trip later…The sun sets over the ruins of a Sith Tomb as Sia-Lan climbs off your back, dropping onto the ground as you pull alongisde to the <span class="mu-i">Albatross</span>. She looks up and down the ship, and whistles appreciatively. Past the rebreather in your mouths, neither of you can speak, but you still get the overall gist of what she’s trying to convey.
Nice ship.
It’s a happy providence that the other auxiliary bay is empty, allowing you to bring the <span class="mu-i">Albatross’</span> vehicle compliment to two bikes and one landspeeder. Alas, you’ll be losing that security deposit, but it’d be too much of a risk to bring the speeder back to Kessandra. Elba comes out of the ship with a scanner and a fine-toothed wrench, and pokes around the speeder to check for any tracking devices or any restraining bolts.
The engines are already warm by the time Ma’kis parks the landspeeder. It takes all of five minutes to rush Potkin into the medical bay, and straight into the bacta tank. Introductions are hastily done between the members of the crew. Elba is more readily accepted, but more than a few raise eyebrows at Suzel – as far as you know, this is their first time meeting a member of his species.
“I ain’t a Chiss or a Pantoran or a Ferroan,” he grouses as he takes the <span class="mu-i">Abatross</span> into the upper atmosphere. “I’m a Nagai, dammit.”
B-33 and HK-82 are regarded with naked curiosity, almost wry amusement. The sight of a tactical droid and a pacifist hunter-killer makes for a strange pair indeed. But the same can’t be said as Trykov makes his entrance in the medbay. The collective gazes of the Jedi range from mildly suspicious, to restrained outrage as he moves to secure Potkin’s mask before she goes into the bacta tank.
The quartermaster grimaces, then sighs. “…whatever my brothers did…I’m sorry. But I’m not them, and I’m not a threat to you.”
“…that is all we can ask for,” says a somber Ma’kis.
Farr grunts. “But I hope you won’t take offense if we find a ship for sale on the cheap.”
Ceyla’s introduction only comes after the ship breaks orbit. As Suzel begins the gravity slingshot maneuver, your padawan emerges from her quarters. Perhaps it isn’t as much as a surprise given how she perceives the Force, but the sight of five other Jedi still causes her to come to a halt.
“And who’s this, then?” asks Sia-Lan with a smile.
The question is ignored as your padawan runs towards you. “Master Farren!”
“See? I’m alright,” you assure her, “Nothing to worry about.”
But her nose crinkles, and she gags. “You smell like overcooked barbecue! What happened?”
(cont.)
