Hoth: Blood and Ice

It had taken hours before the pirate decided that dying in the wastes was for the ice lizard-birds, he activated the beacon and waited to see if anyone would come. He reclined inside the pod and drank cheap from the bottle.

Might as well be drunk if things were going down hill.

OOC: There is a blizzard ongoing so being Hoth proofed is helpful. Need a Computers check at Average with a setback due to the weather.

There was a beacon out there of unknown origins, and with the evac only hours away, getting everyone back to the base was a key priority. So the Turtle was out making pickups and stragglers of those who are left behind. "Got another signal. Hacha, can you clear it up."

Could be another trap, of course; bitterness did often lead to irrational decisions, and the pirates were quite bitter.

Syrian was perhaps going to find out if there was a particular fate he would rate close to death

One Last Thing- Find Syrian -Computers Average with setback: 2eP+4eA+2eD+1eS 4 successes, 1 advantage


"I've found something guys."

The Turtle rumbles across the sky

Durasay sat in the copilots chair, keeping an eye on the scanner. "Can't risk leaving anyone behind." He nodded, looking to the rest of the crew.

"Well I've got the position. Time for evac" Hacha guides the team to the distress beacon.

Through the storm the life pod comes into view, it's neither Imperial or Republic.

The Turtle was followed by the Bitch, whose crew also had business with the yours truly blue.

MA9. Computers.: 1eP+4eA+2eD+1eS 2 successes, 1 advantage

With Pipka taking care of some personal business, Garth had re-established his association with the Turtle crew and had his hands tucked behind his head as he spun in his seat.

"Needs more cushionin'." He mumbled over the comms. "Dunno how th' li'l fella manages."

Garth Thul wrote: ↑

Wed Sep 07, 2022 6:04 pm

~~Snip~~

"Got a visual on the target. May not be friendly, but looks to be unarmed." He turned to Garth. "Not thanked you properly for taking care of my ship awhile back, Garth. Don't worry, I know where to send the bill." He began to flip on the comms.

"Bitch, keep your eyes open. We don't know if this is a setup."

"Copy." It was the only answer in the droning, nasal voice of Razzya.

The pod does not attack, but the storm makes the outdoors treacherous.

"Suppose we make this a quick grab and dash. We can have a friendly chat with them afterwards." He looks to Durasay to confirm this intention.

"Anyone with the proper gear, come out and take point. Garth, after we land, take the pilot seat. Don't know when this storm is going to hit us hard, and rather not be caught in it when it happens; just keep the engine running."

"I'm on it." Durasay was already putting on the helmet to his armor, the thermal heating system already regulating to the temperature. He stood, making his way down the hall to the gangway.

"Ready whenever you are."

Nudimsu landed the ship as best he could in the situation and looked around once more before putting his helmet on and sealing it, the suit fully starting to warm up as he did so. He ensured both his blaster rifles were within reach, especially the one he kept hidden on his suit.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Garth pulls his cloak around his neck. He wasn't heading out in the storm, but was ready for when the exploratory team disembarked.

"If a repair bill's all th' badness that comes outta this coupla months, ah'll be more'n grateful t' take care of it." He jokes with Nudi. They'd probably never be friends, but they had enough in common that they were associates.

Nudimsu nodded at him and departed into the cold.

He may give Garth a hard time, but he was the only other person he trusted to be behind that cockpit.

The pod was sealed shut to protect from the cold. But there was an open line to the inside and a voice came out, "Well this is a rather interesting outcome, I only have enough wine for myself."

"Go get your own."

There was a long stare at the pod before Nudimsu sighed and spoke. "Well then, far be it from me to interrupt, but we have plenty on board the ship."

He was...pretty sure he recognized that Imperial voice.

"I am sure you do, but it has a troubling attachment to meddlesome fools that I find detestable," the voice replied.

"Bit to ch'atcasn'icezi." He motions around him to the pending storm.

He sighed and looked to Durasay. "Oh, I think you're missing out on a golden opportunity to catch up with a old friend here: Durasay Mixo." He puts his shoulder on Durasay, giving him the chance to speak. "Will it make it any better to say that you have my assurances that you will not be harmed?" He didn't actually know if he would not be harmed, of course. Durasay may take a swing at him, of course; they had some history.

He wasn't going to be the one to do it, at least.

~~
Translation: Beats the alternative.

Durasay looked at the Pirate King. It had been a long time.

A long time. Granted in their history, they hadn't met face to face. Always over comms, the taunting. Always the crew, but never the captain caught. Yet Durasay was always the thorn in that side whenever they came through Pantoran space, years ago.

He was very good at his job then.

"Good afternoon. After all this time, we finally meet face to face." He replied, and then offered a hand. "I'm willing to let the past die, in exchange for you not dying here in the cold." His head tilted slightly, the movement exaggerated by the helmet.

“You’re taller than I expected,” he said looking at the hand. “I feel that there is some punchline waiting for me at the end of this, but honestly the rum is running dry and despite my growing bravado, I don’t have the heart to check out via, self-induced brain trauma.”

He finally accepted the hand and said, “Hated foe to fortuitous rescuer.”

Durasay pulled the captain to his feet. There were no binders in his hands, nothing to rob the man of his freedom. Pirate Captains don't end up in snowbanks alone of their own volition.

"I've been on both sides of the equation now. No jokes, no punchlines, no moralizing. It's colder than the lakes on Orto Plutonia out here. "Welcome aboard."

"You're a right good bastard, Durasay, right good," he said following the Pantoran.

OOC: Captain Syrian joins the party.

"Been a while since I had another Chiss on board." Nudimsu nodded at the two. "Though I will only mention once I did give you the chance to avoid all this."

A momentary pause as his eyes stared at the two. "Okay, now the past is dead." He was totally not smirking underneath his helmet.