Hoth: Blood and Ice

"Oh you beauty, what did the bad Chiss man do to you?" Hacha runs his fingers over the hull of the ship. It was mainly intact from the planetside fall, the exterior reinforced frame crumple zone mitigated the damage. It would require the replacent. "Too much ion in the engines? Bah! Someone went a bit heavy on the thrusters I think"

The lighting in the hanger was not the best but Hacha knows the ship. The damaged component is fixed

D3LM-Cracks In the Shell-Remove Component Failure Critical-Easy Critical-Incresed by 1 difficulty for low power, decreased by 1 for Signature vehicle: 4eP+2eA+1eB+1eD 2 successes, 4 advantage

An armored hand ran over the hull of the ship as the Duros worked. The yellow-amber eyes looking over the durasteel plating. Breathing in, the scent of lubricants, fuel, and machinery of the hangar. There was always something familiar in being in a docking bay. While Hoth was no space port, for the time being, it was home.

"We'll get you right as rain, lady." He whispered to the ship, patting the plating.

"Hacha! Work looks good!" Durasay called to the Duros. "Need a hand with anything?"

"I mean, at this point the issue is materials on hand, and how complete do we want thigs." Hacha taps a damaged section of plating.

"I cleared up the damage to the engines. I had put in redundant seals, so we are still airtight for space travel. The down side." Hacha takes a deep breath. "Is that our armor is at about 80%. I hate running at less than 100%, but it's going to be a while to scrounge materials to replace it with."

"Define awhile." The Pantoran replied, finally drawing his hand away from the hull. "Granted, the situation at hand we aren't exactly swimming in spare parts ona frozen rock floating in a debris field and a nearby asteroid belt." There was a small smile, before looking back at the ship.

"And with the base needing to prioritize power and supplies, can't just rip off wirh what's laying about."

Hacha thinks on it. "Assuming that I can find a reliable place to scrap from, and I am putting all of my attention on that and not helping with the base, I'd say a week is a reasonable timeline. Other than that, we'd need to work some favors to get some extra sheeting sent our way or straight out buy what we need from Junktown. They seem more than happy to take credits"

He listened intently. "Funding shouldn't be an issue. If you can get me an invoice, I'm sure I can get it taken care of." A shrug, "Unless you think that the credits I'd hand could get us ID'd by my 'old friend'." A smirk at that, a thrill of adventure tingling down his spine.

If the pirate remembered the Pantoran, anyway.

Hacha thinks on it. "Not if I spend it the way I plan to. I am planning to be scrapping anyway. "Losing" money on making trades in dribs and draps shouldn't turn any heads."

Hacha pauses for a moment. "What happened to give you two bad blood?"

"He's a pirate. I was a Defense Forces officer. He was the bad guy, trying to do bad things, and I stopped him. I lead from the front, much like now, so you tend to get to know your enemy." The man continued, shrugging.

"When someone is a thorn in your side, it's an irritation that grows with each exchange.'

"Huh." Hacha thinks on that. "Dura, we aren't exactly as pure as the driven snow here. I know, I am actively seeing that happen in real time. Would you have hunted us, had we flown into Pantora back then?"

"While I was a member of the Pantoran Defense Forces?" He shrugged. "I dealt with pirates, raiders. Smuggling? On occasion but we had discretion in what we pursued."

He looked to the Duros.

"So who's to say. I did my duty, left the service, and happily became a smuggler. Times change, situations change."

"Fair enough. So long as you aren't having regrets about falling in with people like us. I mean...let me tell you, we are dealing with pirates. Psychopaths bent on pure profit and zero issue with whomever they need to hurt along their way. Well, I've sat in boardroom meetings, and the pirates are more honest about it."

Hacha twiddles his tools. "By the by, do we have any plans yet for dealing with the bantha-maters who attacked us in space?"

"Same as it ever was. Blast them into the void of space." He shrugged. "Ostensibly, we're here to negotiate with the pirates to get them to cease their actions. From what I understand, the Sith Empire is here to wipe them out." He looked to the Duros, "Frankly, as long as get them to stop raiding here, that's a mission accomplished. I'd rather wipe them out or capture them, seeing as just negotiating will make them another systems promise."

"I mean, if we can get convince some that it's more profitable to smuggle...well, I won't go chasing after them." Hacha taps his tools against the hulls of the ship. "Have you seen some of the scrap piles around here? If someone wanted to move a shipbreaker company here, they'd make a fortune: no direct Republic or Empire settlements or oversight. It only got this far because pirates kicked up too much dust. You could make something of a settlement here"

"Wouldn't be an easy life. Wouldn't exactly say we're comfortavle here. You'd have to be desperate or crazy to make a hidden base here." Durasay chuckled, looking around.

"But you might be right, Hacha."

"Most people don't turn to piracy because they have an abundance of options boss. Sure, there are the psychos, but to keep a ship, run her in good repair? How many fighters did we shoot down on our approach in?" Hacha mulls on it.

"I think some would stay. But it still means we have to cull through the worst of the worst first" Hacha pats the ship hull. "And I don't have any regrets about doing just that."

"Good. We can't regret the decisions made in battle. It's live or die, and frankly? I don't plan on dying anytime soon." Durasay nodded, "We'll see if any want a chance at going legit. Or at least non-malevolent." The Pantoran grinned at that.

"Yeah. We can make a go of it here."