With all the exterior damage to the Dragon, any extra pay cajoled out of Naga would barely be sufficient to cover parts. The interior damage is nasty-looking, but superficial compared to the battering the poor freighter's taken of late. With some careful tweaks to the life support, Aurelia and Calsera get the gravity loosened up in the cargo bay and (wo)manhandle the beams and catwalks back into place. The blaster scoring's given a fresh coat of paint, the spare wiring's completely depleted from repairing the various consoles and automated systems that were burnt out, and the docking rig for Mandall's absent Headhunter won't engage.
Jorm stabilizes after several rounds with the medical suite. You've never been much for standard chain of command, but it does seem as if the Vandals' track record for commanding officers has taken a serious nosedive.
The encoded comm-burst to Kolit is one-way to minimize the chance of backtracing, but the Sword of Alderaan's updated with the status of the mission, the fate of the wounded, missing, and dead Vandals, and the status of Maso's spy.
The Dragon finally bursts into the sky over Nar Shaddaa and starts its descent towards Naga's compound.
*Dragon. Braxis Dane here. Do you have the payment?*
---
Mygeeto
"If you've got nothin' on the scopes, then why am I calling for air cover, smart g-" The scout reaching for his commlink arcs backward, his rifle and commlink skittering away as Mandall's blaster shot slams the man into the ground. The trooper lays still.
His comrade ducks behind his speeder bike, quick-drawing and firing a snap-shot that scatters debris a good 10 meters left of Mandall's position. He and Mandall trade two, three more shots before Mandall hits the repulsor drive on the bike. The speeder drops hard onto the permafrost, right onto the trooper's leg. He screams and raises a small snowstorm from his pained flailing.
Mandall gets up slowly, strolls towards the speederbikes - and favors the non-moving snowtrooper with a last blaster shot, just to be on the safe side. Reaching the struggling one, he levels his blaster at the man and smirks.
"Yes, ma'am," Calsera says. She can't really argue with Aurelia's decision as the V-wing is barely flyable at this point. Instead, she sets to, providing whatever assistance she can to the gifted engineer.
The hours flow by and the two women get a lot done. Still, there is only so much they can do about the structural damage to the freighter; they'll just have to hope it holds together a while longer.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Calsera fantasizes for a moment about a nice nap. She hears the call come in from Nar Shaddaa, but figures the men can at least handle that much.
"So what's next?" she asks Aurelia, ready to work again.
"I know two things," grimaces the Imperial scout. "One, if I don't check in, my people will come to get me - and soon. Two, there's no way I'm gonna help you."
Holstering the blaster, Mandall gets to stripping the troopers of their gear, hoping to scavenge a complete set of snowtrooper armor. He puts as much of their other gear as he can stash onto the intact bike, paying special attention to weapons. If there's any explosives, Mandall will do his best to rig up a demo charge to blow up the busted hoverbike.
After a second of glances around the cockpit, the implied "Who's going to answer?" is solved when Ty touches the comm. "This is the Dragon. We have your payment. However, we also have a request. My lord wishes to speak with yours about the events of our voyage and the extra percentage it will cost you."
The trooper doesn't get through the time-honored epithet. Mandall sets to work stripping the two corpses. Soon after, he's got a full suit of snowtrooper gear. The scouts had basic medical and survival equipment, long-range commlinks, and macrobinoculars, all of which Mandall loads onto the working speeder bike. In lieu of explosives, Mandall gives the damaged bike a fusillade of shots from his working speeder. It goes up in an impressive fireball.
---
*As long as you have the payment, you can talk to Naga about whatever you like. I'm transmitting your landing codes. Dane out.*
The Dragon lands once again in one of the massive hangar pits dotting the Vertical City and the brigade of refueling and service droids come out to tend to the freighter.
Mandall kicks the bike into full power and shoots out over the icy expanse. He's crossed more than two-thirds the distance by his estimation before he spies more Imperial vehicles closing fast. He can't tell if they've seen him or if they're heading for the crash site. Looks like four speeder bikes flanking a small convoy of three FAV speeders, probably rescue and scanning crew.
The question of whether they've seen him is quickly rendered moot.
*Eta convoy to KD-972. Why haven't you checked in?*
Mandall leans into the curve, closing with the convoy until he's sure they can see him. He slows down to where he can take a hand off the controls, then taps the side of his helmet - standard sign for busted radio.
*KD-972, we have medical teams in the convoy. Stop and we'll get you patched up - somebody wave him down!*
One of the crewmen on the lead speeder leans out the hatch, flagging Mandall down. The convoy slows to a crawl as the Rebel-turned-injured Imperial draws nearer.
Mandall strafes the lead FAV, scattering the escort speeder bikes in all directions as he darts through the halted convoy. The FAV goes up in a fireball, flinging a flaming crewman from the hatch and spraying debris over the wind-blown landscape. The two remaining FAVs suffer a moment of indecision before their dorsal turrets come online and they start circling into a defensive formation. The escort bikes pair off by twos and give chase.
Mandall arcs around and comes back in at full throttle, spitting fire at another FAV. His shots throw scorched plating from the vehicle and smoke plumes from ruined hatches. The FAV's right side hangs low, its repulsors crippled, but its turret fires back at Mandall. The permafrost billows and erupts in geysers of stinging gravel again and again, but his speeder remains unscathed. Meanwhile, two of the escort bikes have pulled in behind him for a moment. They open fire, but their bolts zip past Mandall without incident.
Mandall leads his pursuers out of the FAV's line of fire, then steps on the brakes for a fakeout, hoping that the two will overshoot and fly into his firing arc.
Mandall hits the brakes and they fly right by him in a move eerily similar to a trick pulled on Endor a while ago. The autoblaster underneath Mandall's speeder bike opens fire and red bolts slam into both bikes ahead of him. One rider is blasted clean off and lands in a ruined heap on the rocky ground. His bike spins out of control, ricochets off a frozen ice-drift, and blossoms into flame. The second scout darts right but Mandall's shots follow him, blasting stablizers and then all control from his bike. The Imperial hits the ground leg first, the bike following a split-second later. It too goes up, a brilliant orange flower against the gray sky.
Sparks explode from the rear panel soon after - the other two bikes have come around from the side, and their shots whip by, too close for comfort. Mandall guns the engine and makes them waste their next few shots.
Then the ground explodes in front of him. Black dirt and steel-gray specks shower around Mandall as he powers through the FAV's barrage. If he'd been riding anything larger, that near-miss would've pulverized his ride.
Mandall tears off at full speed, the FAV's cannon fire punching ragged craters into the terrain behind him. He's through an old speeder dock and out again, then whips past the corpses of a row of hab-modules. The FAVs are out of range now - he only needs to lose the two biker scouts now.
Mandall takes the yoke with one hand and unslings his blaster rifle with the other. One of the pursuing bikes gets a clear shot - the bolts crackle over Mandall. He leans around and snaps a shot off at his attacker - a miss!
The three speeder bikes dart in and out of pre-war support pillars now, the two Imperials trying in vain to stop the Vandal, and Mandall unable to get a clean shot with his rifle. He lets the Imperials in close, then pulls a bootlegger. The bike's repulsors scream in protest, but Mandall slides sideways underneath a massive toppled obelisk. His bike's left throttle control strikes sparks as he daredevils his way under the obstacle.
One Imperial's faked out into thinking Mandall was fishtailing to go around the obelisk. He banks left, sees Mandall slide through the rubble, and in that moment of indecision the Imperial hits the ferrocrete.
The second biker plunges through his companion's smoke, sailing over the fallen pillar. The Imperial's bike spits ruby death as Mandall, still sliding sideways, returns fire with his rifle. Mandall's ride takes a nasty hit and the fuselage geysers fire and ragged shrapnel. Mandall spills off the bike but not before his rifle fire ignites the Imperial's undercarriage. The daredevil Imperial explodes in midair and hits the ground like a meteor. Mandall lands hard on his shoulder, his stolen armor taking most of the impact, and rolls until the world spins. His bike tumbles three, four, five times and slides to a stop.
Both pursuit bikes are utterly destroyed. Mandall's outrun the FAVs. His bike's damaged but should last long enough to get him to the Imperial city that looms larger on the horizon.
Mandall picks himself off the ground, surveys the situation, then climbs back onto his bike and speeds off.
By now, the Imperial Outpost is probably on alert and looking for him - but if he can evade the search parties, he should be able to slip in through the back door and monkeywrench them.
Mandall's bike gives up the ghost before he can get into the Imperial city. The cold must have drained the power cells faster than he thought. He leaves the bike covered up and heads in on foot. It's only a few kilometers, and Mandall covers the distance quickly. Soon enough, black spires and gleaming domes rise into the clouds before him. Mygeeto's sun is setting, and it's not getting any warmer. Mandall leaves the cover of the rubble and low crawls across the broken, icy expanse. The clouds have snuffed out what little sunlight remains, so it proves remarkably easy to grapple over the fortifications and drop down into the lightly guarded complex that rings the city proper. Mandall's secretly glad he's not wearing his bright orange flightsuit right now as he darts past a pair of Imperial guards and slips into the warm embrance of a sensor shack. There's two operators in the close confines - one idly scans the consoles, while the other seems a bit more relaxed. He's reading a datapad, no doubt containing non-standard reading material.
"It's colder than a Wampa's rear out there, huh?" asks the lounging tech.
---
Meanwhile, the crew of the Dragon, each in their Hapian or mercenary disguises, are brought by airspeeder to Naga's audience chambers. Eritram and poor Shas were here once before - an admittedly glorious view of Nar Shaddaa is visible through the long, low observation deck, while a gleaming staircase/ramp ascends to Naga's private chambers. Serving droids bring out drinks and light refreshments while the Vandals wait for their "patron".
As before, Naga enters on his gravsled with the Abyssin "Hound" chained to his side. The slavering alien growls at the presence of so many, but a quick jerk on the chain brings him to heel. Also present are Naga's twin slinky female bodyguards, Braxis Dane, and Bek Briggs. Finally, Naga's Quarren translator brings up the rear. His robes swish idly as he runs numbers on a datapad.
"Prince Yu, I understand you delivered your shipment and returned with the payment. Please explain to me the... necessity of this meeting?"
"Mr. Naga, there were details about the delivery that your people failed to bring to my attention... such as the presence of Imperial Interdictors, ground forces, and TIE Fighters waiting for us to make our drop. We lost two good men, with a third soaking in bacta just to stay alive. We have significant material losses. The point is, Mr. Naga, this was not as lucrative an opportunity as we were led to believe. I - we - require additional payment to cover our losses. I believe double the original fee, minus the down payment of one thousand credits, would be amenable."
"Bo shuda! Nine thousand credits for a bungled delivery!? You'll get the four we agreed upon, and you'll be more careful next time!"
"Eight-five, or the Empire might just learn exactly what was in that shipment and who authorized it. I'm sure Moff Dorn would love to find out who's been equipping the Mygeetan insurgents."
Naga's dumbstruck for a moment. Braxis Dane's hand moves imperceptibly closer to his blaster. The Quarren stops tapping away at his datapad. The Abyssin drools. MDK glares. Then:
"You did fulfill your end of the bargain... I see no reason we cannot continue to do business, Prince. Eight thousand credits, and I would be honored if you and your crew would entertain yourselves at my pleasure farm tonight."
Eritram/Yu nods. "I trust we can continue to do business. I'll extend your offer to the rest of my crew. Until tonight, then."
"Until tonight, Prince."
---
Back onboard the Dragon, everyone lets the tension out and gets back to business. A Hutt pleasure farm is a hive of debauchery not for the faint of heart. They'll be watched; they might be killed; they will lose every credit they take through the doors; but it is also a grand opportunity to get a look inside Naga's fortress-spire.
The chance to meet with Naga offers a respite from the repair efforts. Cat bathes and changes, then tags along in her role as main-squeeze-slash-bodyguard. She stays out of the actual negotiations, leaving them to those better qualified.
Calsera keeps a close eye on Naga's bodyguards while the others talk. When things grow tense, she's ready to respond to Braxis' intervention in kind. Fortunately, it doesn't become necessary.
The chance to visit the pleasure farm intrigues Calsera. She changes clothes once again to something more... playful. She takes just enough money to have a little fun, while not wiping out her savings.
Admiral Duck Sauce
