"Manta flew overhead a while ago, but since it didn't try to blow us up, it's a safe bet that it didn't see us. Still," Davis turns to Bello, "it'd be a good idea to get us and the ship out of here as soon as possible. Any ideas on how to do that? I've got a few, but you might have a better solution." Davis sees the Apprehender who's missing bits of his face. "Ouch. Want us to patch him up?"
Semo is quite happy to see the Morningstar ahead. It looks like they added some to the camoflage he started before they left.
Guiding the balky machine up the cargo ramp and into the hold, Semo brings it to a stop and hops out. "Yup, fun times," he says, rolling his eyes. The Samoan immediately sets to helping Cap unload.
Semo gets the captured Imperial equipment stowed inside the freighter and strips enough camo-netting to tie down the warsled inside the cargo bay.
Davis gets the frisbee device and gives the balding Apprehender a once-over. The bleeding stops almost immediately but Dunamis Kon doesn't wake up quite yet. His ruined eye turns milky pink as leaking vitreous starts regenerating inside the torn sclera. His ear starting growing like a time-lapse film while the lacerations across his skull begin to close up. Davis has seen the alien device do its work enough now that he guesses Kon might wake up any minute but he won't be fully healed for a few hours at least. Arketta stays with the wounded bounty hunter while Davis gets back to planning.
Max and Angel notice there are quite a number of new faces on the "crew": The dark-skinned Ahaz and his sister Tais; the ponytailed driver Aq; Bello, their lanky Resistance contact is still alive despite the wild ride on the warsled; Nutt, the reedy teenager; and Oskell, the bald soldier.
Bello approaches Davis, Hugh, and Max after the spook finishes up with Dunamis. "I would think my people have probably returned to their holes by now. Besides, with the amount of attention you've drawn I could not in good conscience try to plan a meeting at this point for fear of all of us being captured. Perhaps we should stay in this canyon for a few more days, let the Imperials grow restless and weary. We must still be cautious, but we may be able to set up a rendevouz at that point."
"Kind of a two-edged sword, in my opinion," Hugh says. "On one hand, they're probably working off the assumption that we gunned it and slipped through the net, so they might well give up. On the other hand, we are high-profile targets and if I was in command of the Turai, I'd order them to do another slow & thorough sweep just to make sure. If they send a sled into the canyons, they're pretty much bound to find us, the way we're parked now. Either we find a way to unhide Bello's associates and get out of here quick, or we need to put some serious thought into improving our hiding place."
Semo buries himself in honest work. He can see Cap and the others discussing this or that, but doesn't feel inclined to but in. Not his place. He'll finish up and then rest until the Cap decided on the next course of action.
"I doubt we will find a better hiding spot for the vessel this size," Swims interjects. Bello apologizes: "I'm sorry, I am not that familiar with your signs." Assuming someone translates, Bello agrees with the Whiir. "However, it has proved its worth already. Aikoro is a large planet and if a patrol has passed us over they may have struck this canyon from their list."
"And they may not. We know they have sent Khiraba already. That is more than a simple flyover," the Whiirr argues. "If we do not stay on the move, they WILL find us. Now may be too late, but our chances worsen the longer we stay here. The Imperial forces are spread thin in their search. I do not doubt we will have to figure a way through them, but the odds may be manageable."
Bello nods as he gets the gist of the translation. "The odds of suicide, you mean. You'd run and make my people's sacrifices this day spent in vain? Better to leave the freighter and hide out in the wilds then, if you're so worried about the Imperium discovering this ship. There will be other ships. My people could perhaps obtain a smaller courier for you. He" - Bello motions to the now-slowly stirring Dunamis Kon - "had to get to Aikoro somehow. Perhaps he has a vessel. It might even be armed, which puts it a step above this." Bello motions around the stripped-down cargo bay in frustration. Swims-the-Black shifts his posture, growing impatient and a little angry with the Lincolnesque Bello.
"I am still Shipmaster here." Swims punctuates with an aggressive coloration. "And you defeat your own argument. That Apprehender's ship may well be armed, and they are likely to be looking for us as well. The Imperium may mark this canyon as scanned; bounty hunters will not."
Max watches the intellectual discourse on the finer points of intergalactic fringers talking about the best way to get off a quarantined planet with a bunch of seperatists and freedom fighters who are currently sentenced to pacification by extreme prejudice.
(leans over to Angel)
"I'm really glad to see after all the shit we've been through, there still is a healthy party conflict surrounding the best way to topple an interstellar empire." says the Action Scientist, his eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets.
Davis steps in between the two arguing aliens. "Whoa, slow down, both of you."
He looks at Swims. "Swims-the-Black, can you get the Morningstar in the air and out of here with it still competely dark? There's still too many Imperials around here to risk being completely lit up and having to out run two or four times as many interceptors as before. If we get spotted now, we're as good as dead."
Now he turns to Bello. "Betting on being able to hike out of here to safety isn't a very solid plan, just ask Max, Angel and Arketta. We don't know what kind of backup our unconscious friend has back at his ship, either. And surely you can appreciate Swims-the-Black's desire to stay with his ship. Also, this is where all of our gear is and is our most reliable source of shelter at the moment. I think the best option at this point in time, unless Swims-the-Black can guarantee he can get us out of here completely undetected, is to stay with the Morningstar until we're reasonably sure we can fly out undetected."
"Through bickering and dissent, progress. Now you know why I hate civilian entanglements....no offense."
"None taken. In fact, I'm actually interested in hearing what that Bello guy has planned. I mean, it's not like it can be any worse that what we've run up against since we entered atmo on this god-forsaken rock. I'm inclined to think he's now got as much to lose as the rest of us. Besides, all I'd have to do is show that Dunamis Kon has actually sided with us. Maybe take a few images us playing cards with him or doing keg-stands..." replies Max.
"I'm tired of waiting for the next Turai shitstorm to land on us." adds the beleaguered Action Scientist.
(walks over to Dunamis Kon, pulling out the procured Stinger from his web belt)
"Talk! If what that guy (glances at Bello) says is even half the case, I'm willing to bet you'd be up for helping us...Unless you'd rather have your brain flash-fried."
"Swims-the-Black, can you get the Morningstar in the air and out of here with it still competely dark? There's still too many Imperials around here to risk being completely lit up and having to out run two or four times as many interceptors as before. If we get spotted now, we're as good as dead."
Swims shakes his shaggy, tusked head. "All you have to do is fly out over open ground and go up. However, we are the only ship out here. Even if Luis went slow with the impellers, they would spot us. But we move on our terms, we force them to adapt to us instead of waiting to be found while still in this twofold blanket of atmosphere and gravity."
Davis questions Bello, who doesn't get a chance to respond before Max prods the wounded-but-regenerating Dunamis into answering for him. Dunamis wakes to a Stinger barrel in his face and an angry scientist shouting questions. His good eye focuses quickly, however, and he shrinks back from the weapon in supplication.
"Half the case? Which guy?" Kon discards his current train of thought and just spills it. "Ship? Yes, I've got a ship, it's at the port last I checked. Legal and everything. Daygon-series flitcraft, small crew, small cargo. My two remaining men were staying behind... well, my man and my Whiirr. It's been a while, though... if they aren't out looking for me they might have jumped if the Gate's still open to traffic."
Kon rethinks his intel for a split-second, trying not to end on a downer. "But she's armed! Accelerators AND D-class beamers! She's even got a grappler!"
"Half the case? Which guy?" Kon discards his current train of thought and just spills it. "Ship? Yes, I've got a ship, it's at the port last I checked. Legal and everything. Daygon-series flitcraft, small crew, small cargo. My two remaining men were staying behind... well, my man and my Whiirr. It's been a while, though... if they aren't out looking for me they might have jumped if the Gate's still open to traffic."
Kon rethinks his intel for a split-second, trying not to end on a downer. "But she's armed! Accelerators AND D-class beamers! She's even got a grappler!"
"You really want to hope they didn't leave for you dead. Keep talking. Where is it exactly and would your men be able to keep quiet in the name of staying under your employment? Keep in mind, this isn't a negotiation...this is bargaining for your poor, pathetic life." barks Max, the Stinger's barrel pressed up under Kon's chin.
"Probably have to kill them to g-get the ship," Kon says, trying and failing to remain calm. "Clubby - it's what we call the Whiirr - he's not the brightest carpet on the wall. It's at the port, south of Gran's Hope. Blast pit 223. If you've got a vox I can confirm exactly where it is, put it on your ship's holos." Kon looks at Kilgore like he knows that last part's a long shot.
"Probably have to kill them to g-get the ship," Kon says, trying and failing to remain calm. "Clubby - it's what we call the Whiirr - he's not the brightest carpet on the wall. It's at the port, south of Gran's Hope. Blast pit 223. If you've got a vox I can confirm exactly where it is, put it on your ship's holos." Kon looks at Kilgore like he knows that last part's a long shot.
"Yeah right. I know you're a little late to game, but we're trying to avoid being detected. What other great ideas do have for getting us to your ship?" hisses Max, keeping the Stinger firm against Kon's chin.
"C-come on, man!" Dunamis protests, looking at Hugh, Davis, Semo, Angel, Luis, Swims, Bello, anyone who isn't crazy and pointing a gun at his head. He gets no love from that quarter, and his demeanor changes as the thin thread of hope snaps. "You wanna know how to find my ship without creating any sort of energy footprint?! Can't vox it? Can't scan for its transponder? Can't access port docking records? Vidas fucking Lam, man, what do you want from me? Go outside and look for it! It's sleek and black and has a naked woman on the side. It might be flying around right now, but I don't fucking know where it is because you shitbags kidnapped me and dragged me to the middle of fucking nowhere!"
"While I do not agree with my colleague's mode of information gathering," Hugh says, "you have to admit that this leaves you in a bad situation. We're not going to expose our position to contact your ship, therefore we can't find it. If we can't find it, it might as well not be there at all. Agreeing with me on this point will not get you killed, Dunamis, but good things will happen if you can come up with a clever idea. With that in mind, Doc, why don't you stop eroding this poor man's bladder control? He's got some thinking to do."
Hugh turns to Swims-the-Black.
"I agree with you that we need to get the Morningstar out of here as soon as possible, but that does not mean that we all have to leave. If we can get Dunamis's ship, we can collect Bello's associates while the authorities are still looking for this ship."
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