Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Liz Dorner, Jessica Kennedy, Christopher Levy, John Post, and Anonymous.
One year before the Battle of Yavin (34:10:18) in the Tshindral system: Gateway Space Station.
Fiona Archer, Lex Arken, Reese Artek, Major Kerrie Kiley, Parka Pepper, Illiard Rhett, and Maiko von Ribbentrop.

Maiko was already awake. Why? There was so much to do! A childish excitement had come over the former Pirate turned Baroness-Administrator of Gateway Space Station. She went over the accumulated reports of the last day's operations. She had turned a five thousand credit profit, more than she had expected. But when one added up the docking fees, refueling fees and the fees for allowing beings to operate the trading was a start. Of course there were numerous costs that had cut down on that figure. Salaries, basic maintenance, and other things. A tip which had lead one of the Stormtroopers patrols overnight to the location of a Twi'lek male, missing his head, in the inner core of the station in what appeared to be a genetics lab. The fact that somebody had been murdered on her first day was a little upsetting...but she was committed to cleaning the place up. She would put a stop to stuff like this, at least as much as she could. She brought a cup of hot caf to her lips and sipped from it as she scrolled through the datapad, sitting in one of the booths in the Saloon, near the corner, where she liked it. She decided she would start out her day this way each time, to get a handle on what had happened while she had been asleep, and the last day's figures.

The Station was still in the same state of general disrepair, that kind of maintenance would take serious time, and cost, as well. Neither of which she had at the moment. Hmm. What to do first? With Richard here, she felt like anything was possible now. With his ship, as well as the Mantis, there was plenty of protection for the station, at least from space-borne threats. Internally, that was another matter. The local Imperial Garrison was an unknown quantity. Could she depend on them to defend the station? Maybe, if not she could always hire her own...although it would be another cost she would like to avoid. Sighing she leaned back. The first priority was basic maintenance, to prevent her investment from falling apart. Everything else came second. Her eyes slid over to the rest of the Saloon's patrons, which were mostly quiet. It was early, and the drinking and inevitable fighting hadn't started...yet.

The safety codes...fractures in pipes...with the exhaustive report that had been prepared by her former Chief Engineer aboard the Mantis made it clear the problem was much worse than she had realized. Years upon years of studied neglect had made the Station little more than a shell, barely kept going by overstrained power cores. Maiko raised her cup of Soycaf to her lips and sipped from it as she leaned back in her chair, tapping over the datapad to review the information, adding up the costs in her mind. Where was she going to get this kind of cred?

All around the station there was work going on. The sparking and sharp light of laser welders, the high whine of hydrospanners as small groups of maintenance teams moved through the station, usually accompanied by a Treadwell droid or another droid. New posters were being put up, exhorting citizens to "Beautify the Station, pick up after yourself." A real effort was being made a cleanup and repair the station as best could be expected without more major work, which she would probably need to shut off sections of the station for some time for a complete rebuild and refurbish. Already, it was easy to notice a difference. The station looked cleaner, glowpanels that hadn't functioned for years were fixed or replaced. But it was still most certainly a rough looking place, with exposed conduits and pipes that were being worked on. Panels of durasteel decking were laid out everywhere, pulled up off the floor to let the crews get at the guts inside. It was certainly a messy job.

Kerrie Kiley opened her eyes tiredly after a restless night sleep at her new posting. She narrowed her gaze at the overhead light in her office, the nemesis that plagued her throughout most of the night. The controls that operated the lighting source did not seem to be operational. The light hum that emanated it combined to give her one of the worst night's rest on record. She did not feel comfortable sleeping in the barracks with the male troopers and they were more than willing to help her carry a cot from the barracks across the hallway to her small office. She sat up slowly, feeling as if she had barely rested. "Ugh," she groaned quietly to herself. She sank into her body slowly, wishing she could just get a few hours more sleep. She closed her eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply, as her reptile-like hands grasped the cot. With some effort, she pushed herself up off the cot and staggered slowly over towards her desk.

As Kerrie approached the desk she plopped down in the wobbly chair, which nearly broke every time someone sat in it. Only her diminutive form kept her from crashing down to the deck plating below every time she sat in it. She reached for the mirror and looked at herself for a moment, narrowing her eyes at the grey-skinned reptile refection staring back at her. She closed her eyes as her body slowly mimicked into her normal appearance as a Human female in her late twenties. When she opened her eyes, the familiar Humanoid face that those around her were accustomed to was staring back at her. It was a necessary disguise for her line of work and as the years went by she became more and more Human in her personality and the way she acted towards other.

Kerrie adjusted her undergarments carefully, making sure her transformation had not accidentally exposed anything. Once she was satisfied she gathered her refresher caddy and stepped out of her office into the corridor. She looked to make sure the coast was clear before scurrying quickly down the corridor into the barracks. As she stepped inside, the troopers in the platoon were already awake and getting themselves ready for the next shift change. Without paying much attention to them, she awkwardly lowered her head and hurried through the room towards the nearest refresher.

"Nice ass, sweetie," one of the troopers shouted at her. Her entrance had not gone without notice, and the chorus of obnoxious cat calls and howls soon echoing through the room. As she stepped into the refresher she closed the door behind her and frowned ... the punishment of this assignment did not fit her 'crime.'

Kerrie enjoyed the tranquility afforded to her in the sonic shower. It was comforting to be away from the Troopers a few additional moments before starting her day. The feeling of the dirt and grime vibrating off her body helped contribute to a positive outlook on the day. She finally felt 'awake' as she stepped out of the shower and applied a clean set of undergarments. As she walked towards the refresher door she made a final check of how the clothing fit and swallowed apprehensively before opening the door and stepping back out in the barracks. Ignoring the men, she headed towards her locker, which had been changed over night. A fresh, clean nametag was on the locker now, replacing the deceased predecessor with her name: CDR K. KILEY. She looked to either side of her for a moment before allowing a small smile to come upon her lips. "At least the QM likes me," she said to herself happily.

Kerrie stood in front of the open locker and set herself to the task of equipping the various components of her armor. She started with the leggings, and then fastened her customized chest plate with the rank insignia and Mabari styling she had added the day before. Eventually she made her way to the biceps and bracers, before wrapping the utility belt around her waste and fastening it closed. She braced herself against the locker as she lifted one leg at a time to step into her boots, before finishing off the armor with the gloves. She grabbed her helmet in one hand and her E-11 blaster rifle in the other and walked through the barracks where the Troopers had gathered. She felt more confident when in the armor and when carrying a weapon so she was finally ready to face them.

"Honey, why don't you just go back in your office and file some paperwork?" one of the Troopers asked her, a smirk upon his lips, "We'll handle the dirty work." Another trooper stepped forward in a slightly more serious tone, "We just don't want to see you get hurt is all, missy."

Kerrie's face sunk slightly as she looked at the group of larger, stronger men who were encircling her, laughing. She shook slightly, but focused herself. "Look..." she began defiantly, "You're just going to have to get used to this situation." She then turned around and grabbed her helmet, placing it over her head a moment before sliding it down over her head. She closed her eyes until the helmet was down completely, never quite comfortable when placing it on her head. She glared at the men behind her helmet, snatched up her E-11 and slung it over her shoulder. She pushed her way through the group and headed off to perform her duty. She would deal with the subordinate troopers later.

Commander Kerrie Kiley emerged from the corridor that led from the Imperial barracks to the main atrium of the station. Beneath the helmet of her Stormtrooper armor, the MFTAS began sweeping over every individual she encountered. It was her earnest desire to avoid a repeat of the firefight the night before, but on a backwater assignment like this she was prepared to deal with various types of ruffians. Her E-11 blaster rifle, operating in compact mode in her right hand, was set to the stun setting and the safety was off. She came to a position near the saloon, but did not enter, deciding it best to inspect patrons as they entered ... rather than cause a disturbance on the inside.

Reese Artek, a man in ragged and tattered clothing suddenly awakened in the trading post area. His dirty blonde hair was messed from the nap he took. Instantly, as the lights beamed down onto him, he squinted as he pulled a long rag over his head, covering his face. The man was filthy, and could be identified as a hobo or beggar, but a closer look would prove otherwise. His face was shrouded by the tattered rag pulled over his head, and he sat up some more as he leaned back against the durasteel wall of the station, watching as various patrons passed by.

Kerrie turned her head in the direction of the man who was waking up. "What is with all the loitering around here?" she wondered as her helmet's MFTAS targeted the individual in question. He did not look the least bit impressive, but nevertheless she would take the appropriate precautions as she walked towards his location. As she approached, she raised the E-11 in the direction of the man, but she did not directly aim at the man. When she was closer, she looked him over from top to bottom and decided she was glad the air-filtration system of the helmet prevented her from being able to smell the man. <Click>"Halt!"<Click> she said to the man in a commanding tone through the helmet's comm system.

He just kind of continued what he was doing since he was not really doing anything in the first place. The man looks up at the figure dressed in bone white, a light smirk overcoming his face as he removed the rags from his head to reveal an unshaven, yet youthful face and the messed dirty blond hair. "There a problem?"

Kerrie came to a stop approximately ten meters from the man. She kept the E-11 raised at arm length, her left hand move across her body to grab the stock of the weapon for extra stability. She tilted her head slightly as the MFTAS concluded its analysis of the individual. <Click>"Are you aware that loitering and vagrancy are against station policy?"<Click> she asked the man in a serious tone, as she considered even the smallest offense meaningful.

He turned his head from left to right, then glanced up at the trooper with a blank look on his face. "Funny...I don't see any signs..."

"I am afraid I am going to have to write you a citation."<Click> Kerrie informed the man, as her left hand withdrew from the stock of the E-11 and into one of the pouches in her utility belt. Without lowering her head, she withdrew a small datapad from the pouch and brought it up to eye level. In the datapad she entered the appropriate offenses: Vagrancy and Loitering. A few moments later a small datacard was ejected from the pad and into the palm of her hand. She inspected the datacard for a moment, before taking several steps towards the man. Once she had closed the distance, she extended her hand towards him, offering the datacard.

The man slowly stood from his sitting position and his eyes stared daggers into the troopers onyx glare-shades. In one swift motion, a fist was sent from left to right against the trooper's hand in an attempt to knock the datacard out of her hand.

As the datacard was knocked from her hand, she quickly raised her E-11 to come to bare with the man's midsection ... having lost her patient with the individual. <Click>"That was a mistake."<Click> she said to the man as she raised her left hand to the stock of the weapon.

"So were you, bitch." The man said.

A moment later, Kerrie pulled back on the trigger of the E-11 unleashing a coil of blue energy from the barrel of the E-11 at the man's midsection. The coil would grow exponentially as it left the barrel, and if it made contact it would render the man temporarily unconscious. <Click>"Scum."<Click> she said in a condescending tone.

The man was suddenly caught in the expanding blue energy wave as his hands were thrown up to shield his face. As the rings of energy made contact with his skin, the shock would instantly spread throughout his central nervous system and render him unconscious, causing him to fall limp to the floor panels with a loud thud.

<Click>"It was only a thirty credit fine."<Click> Kerrie said to the unconscious man, even though she knew he could not hear him. She slung her E-11 under her right shoulder and dropped to her knees next to the fallen man's body. Her free hand immediately grabbed hold of the set of stun cuffs and removed them from her utility belt. She attached one end of the cuffs to the man's right wrist, and then quickly grabbed hold of his left wrist to attach the other end of the cuffs. Once locked, she entered the three-digit code to activate them and turn on the stun properties.

Kerrie's gloved hands began to probe the man's body, running over every inch of his form, and rummaging through every pouch and pocket as she attempted to search him for any weaponry, equipment, contraband. What started out as a routine fine was turning into an arrest with a lot of paper work involved ... she hated paperwork.

Well dressed. As always. Canvas slacks with a dress shirt tucked into them, tailored to those lean dimensions from one of Mon Calamari's renowned clothing shops. Even a turquoise cravat was looped beneath the collar, completing the pirate's ensemble. A BlasTech DL-22 was tucked into the front waistband of the slacks, suregrip handle poking from beneath the belt. Holsters took precious seconds off draw. At any rate, Dewback-leathered boots sounded steadily over the tiled floor of the station, Rhett making his way casually toward the Saloon. An ale sounded just about right.

Eyes glanced down to the Stormtrooper as she lowered onto her knees and began probing the unconscious man. A brow raised, shaking his head at the degenerates that roamed the station. And with that Rhett continued his way toward the saloon area.

Kerrie grabbed hold of the man by the back of shirt and commenced dragging him down the station corridor towards the small detention center in the Imperial section of the station. "Why do they always have to be so damn heavy," she muttered to herself as she dragged the limp body across the durasteel deck plating. She lacked the energy to life him more than a few centimeters off the floor, so he might incur the few scraps, bruises, and friction burns. When she finally reached the detention center, she nodded to the guard at the catching desk, and proceeded towards the first cell.

Making no attempt at being delicate, Kerrie dropped the man's body to the ground inside of the cell, but did not remove the stun cuffs. Then, she stepped outside of the cell and activated the controls for the energy field that sealed the man in his cell. Satisfied the man was contained, she walked back towards the catching desk to catch her breath.

Kerrie reached to the side of her helmet, unlatching the mechanism that kept it attached. She slid the helmet off her head and placed it on the catching desk. Her mimicked Humanoid face was red, and covered in beads of sweat from the exertion she had used dragging the man's weighty body through the corridors of the station. On the desk, she activated the intercom that would echo throughout Gateway Space Station, "Station administrator to the detention center, please. Station administrator to the detention center, please."

"Damn it..." Maiko mumbled. The responsibilities of being successful. She turned slightly, and walked towards the detention center. What could it be now? If she had known being a respectable businesswoman was going to be so stressful, she would of stayed a pirate. She walked quickly towards the detention center, walking at a swift pace to cross the distance rather quickly.

Kerrie turned her attention to Maiko as she entered the detention center. She immediately focused herself, ignoring the trickles of sweat that were flowing down from her forehead into her eyes. "I am sorry for bothering you, ma'am," she said in a courteous tone, "But I just detained the subject in cell number one for loitering, vagrancy and striking an Imperial officer." She turned her attention to the man, whose stun should be wearing off by now, "This is your station. Do you wish to deal with him yourself or should I have him sent to Kessel? There's beds for him to sleep in there."

The man's eyes opened slowly. Glancing around as the processed images were blurry...he could not exactly register where he was, but given his memory of giving a storm trooper attitude, he was most likely in a cell. The man groaned as he shifted some, attempting to move his wrists but found they were locked in a pair of binders.

She slowed as she entered. And nodded towards Kerrie. "No problem, what seems to be the matter?" She asked as she listened as she turned to look towards the number one cell and stepped towards it, peering through the bars at the man. "Did he have any ID? Who is he?" She asked, eyebrow raising as he seemed to be waking up.

Kerrie extended the ID card she had taken off the subject, and extended it towards Maiko. "It says his name is Reese Artek," she explained, handing it over.

She took the card. "Thank you,." She said as she studied it. "Does he have any priors? Do we know how he got on the station?" She asked, she looked at the ID for a moment longer, before she looked up at the man again. "Shipping him off to Kessel seemed rather harsh for what was obviously bad judgment. Perhaps he was drunk?"

"No. We do not know how he got on the station. I found asleep outside one of the shops," Kerrie began to explain, as she glanced over towards the cell to check on the man's progress, "When I attempted to write him the appropriate citation and fine ... he struck me, prompting this." The Trooper at the desk completed the background scan from the computer and looked at the two women conversing, "There are no priors listed under this person's ID, Commander."

"...Mmmh. No...let him sleep off whatever is in his system..." She said as she looked at him, before she looked over her shoulder. "Call me Maiko. I didn't go to any officer academy." She said with a grin and a shake of her head. "Maybe he could prove to be useful. There is a lot of work that needs to be done around here. See if we can't set up a work program. So he can work off those fines." She said as she crossed her arms. Well, if she was going to be giving him a place to stay, he had better earn it.

"Of course, Ma'am ... Maiko," Kerrie said politely as she smiled at her before walking towards the cell. She turned her head towards her again, "I hope I did not take too much of your time." She finished with the formalities, and refocused her attention on the man in the cell. "Hey..." she called out to the man, "You awake?"

"Eh?" The man grumbled as he looked up from his cell through cylindrical forms of energy and, as he regained his normal sight, his glance fell on the trooper once more:. "Yeah..."

"Of course not. Thank you Commander Kiley, I appreciate your attention to detail. If he gives you anymore trouble, then you can send him to Kessel if you want." She said, perhaps loud enough for the man to hear before she would turn to leave, dropping the man's ID off at the desk before she hurried towards the Saloon.

"Why did you go and do something stupid like strike an Imperial officer over the matter of a vagrancy fine?" Kerrie asked the man in the cell, genuinely curious. She folded her arms in front of her chest plate and tilted her head with a smug expression, waiting to hear the explanation.

A light smirk formed upon his face as he shifted himself some, rising to a sitting position as he crossed his legs. "Because I'm better than you."

"If you want to think you are better than me ... go right ahead," Kerrie said to the man of the cell as she turned around and walked back to the catching desk. "But you're the one in the cell ... not me," she said arrogantly as she grabbed hold of her helmet off the desk. She hovered it over her head for a moment and closed her eyes as she carefully slid it down over her head. She exhaled deeply, getting used to position beneath the helmet once again.

A single chuckle would resound from his lips as he just sat there, staring down at the floor now as he played connect the dots with the various dust particles found on the floor.

Kerrie unslung the E-11 from her shoulder and grabbed the rifle by the handle and exited the detention center back into the hallway. <Click>"Release the skel in an hour."<Click> Kerrie informed the guard, as she began walking through the corridors back towards the area outside the saloon where she maintained a watchful post. She wondered how many armed felons she had missed while wasting so much time on an individual wanted only for vagrancy.

"Worthless, senile idiot..." Fiona muttered to herself. She paced impatiently against the wall opposite the entrance to the saloon. She had spent all night lurking around the station in search of this mystery Hapan, sneaking in and out of the docking bags and nervously asking technicians if they had seen her earrings. Which was a stupid question; she did not even have pierced ears. Another thing to do before someone got suspicious ... and the scar cut down her left eye was starting to look like a fading tattoo. She tried to blend in, wearing a casual pair of black pants and a tan flight jacket over a white top. The only weapon she carried was a vibrodagger tucked away in her right boot.

Fiona stopped pacing for a moment, leaning back against the wall to observe the passersby. And where, Fiona wondered, searching the faces of the people moving around for a familiar, wrinkled sight, was that strange old friend? She hoped he had not done anything stupid, like try and break into the administrator's office and "borrow" the docking records and land himself in a cell, but any of her friends would probably have done just that.

Fiona exhaled impatiently and started across the passageway into the saloon. If she wanted to find any of the people she was looking for, she'd have to go to the only hangout on this miserable, Imperial-ridden station. She debated going back to the ship before going in the bar but decided against it.

Fiona made her way to the bar and slipped into a stool, tapping her right foot impatiently as she waited for the bartender. Not that she even wanted a drink ... just wanted to look busy. To feel busy, instead of feeling like she was chasing dead ends and ghosts.

Fiona slipped the bartender a few chits to cover her drink and a tip, then as soon as he was gone, banged her forehead against the bar counter in exasperation.

Fiona abandoned the ale that she ha not even touched on the counter top and headed back out of the saloon, irritation resulting in restlessness.

Kerrie's attention focused on the 'restless' woman walking out of the saloon. Her MFTAS making the required scan of every individual that passed her checkpoint. "This one didn't look like it would be a problem," she thought to herself as she looked her over from top-to-bottom beneath her helmet.

She exited the saloon and moved out into the passageway, and the first thing that caught her eye was the blinding white of a storm trooper's armor. Fiona did not look like much of a problem at all...her only weapon was a small vibrodagger hidden in her boot, and she wasn't wanted by anything. She approached the trooper cautiously, trying to keep her face tight and expressionless and watch her tongue. The station was teeming with Imperials, and it would not do well to announce her extreme hatred of them openly. But it was going to be hard to keep that quiet if she opened her mouth. "Excuse me, officer..."

<Click>"Good evening, citizen,"<Click> Kerrie said in a polite, courteous tone to the woman as she approached. Her MFTAS detected the vibroblade, but those weapons fell under permitted guidelines and on a station such as this, she could not blame a woman for wanting a little extra protection.

Try not to call the officer a cockgoblin... try not to call the officer a cockgoblin. "Yes, uh, co- commander.. is that your rank? I'm not very good with military things." She started to talk faster the more nervous she got. Damn it, don't call it a cockgoblin!

<Click>"Yes. Commander Kiley, how may I be of service?"<Click> Kerrie responded in a polite tone, hoping to be of assistance to the obviously confused and out of sorts woman. It was if she had spent the previous night on the Holonet having an eight hour conversation with an ex-boyfriend about virtually nothing, that somehow seemed to go on and on and on, perhaps for years.

Fiona did look tired ... she tried not to shake in front of the officer, and kept her voice quiet. "I'm traveling with an old uncle. He's losing his mind and he tends to get in trouble a lot. I was wondering or any other officer had elderly man get into any trouble?"

<Click>"I am sorry, citizen ... but none of the recent troublemakers could be classified as 'old'."<Click> Kerrie tilted her head at the individual, confused by her demeanor. Did she want to make this woman's business her own? Probably not. Her shift was winding down and asking questions of people like this often resulted in sidetracks that could take hours.

"Thanks for the help. "Fiona mumbled under her breath and turned away from the trooper. What good had the Empire brought anyone? She could not think of anything. Disgruntled, she headed down the corridor, back in the direction of the luxury suites. Eighth time had to be the charm.

And a whistling Lex Arken made his way down one of the corridors of the Gateway Space Station, the very corridor that leads to the Falling Star Saloon. The native Concord Dawnian of Morellian descent was lugging around the usual arsenal, a BlasTech A280 that was cradled in his broad and tattooed arms, an IR-5 "Intimidator" that was strapped to his chest over a Koromondain PDS, Inc. MK-45 Blast Vest, with that ever-so-handy quick release mechanism. And holstered very lovingly at his thigh in a quick-draw holster was the Morellian Weapons Conglomerate .48-Caliber "Enforcer" Pistol. Tucked firmly into a pair of olive colored BDU's was a light blue shirt with darker blue rings around edges of his sleeves and around the neck. Various other "gadgets" were placed at his Bantha hide leather gunbelt, grenades and such.

Kerrie's MFTAS lit up like an Empire Day shrub as Lex Arken approached the Saloon. She raised the left hand towards the man as she stepped away from the woman for a moment. <Click>"Halt!"<Click> she instructed of the individual as she approached his position quickly. She readied her E-11 as she closed the distance, but she did not aim the weapon.

Damn it, was this going to happen every time? With a roll of his eyes he halted his steps suddenly as he awaited the trooper to near the distance between them...the clicking of its plastoid heels making him want to pull the trigger of his rifle many times, preferably into someone's head. He awaited to be approached by the trooper.

<Click>"Citizen, you are quite well-armed. I trust you have the appropriate paperwork?"<Click> Kerrie said in a commanding tone, as she neared the individual. Her MFTAS in the helmet locking in on the man. She swallowed nervously beneath the helmet, realizing she was in over her head if this came to blows.

That twang in Lex's voice echoed rather brash-like throughout the corridor as he shifted the A280's weight into his right hand, the muzzle of the rifle pointing downward toward the floor panel as his free hand unzipped a pocket on his MK-45 Blast Vest, the gloved hand reached into the pocket only to remove a laminated card with all the appropriate credentials. The card would be identified as a IPKC.

Kerrie nodded when she saw the IPKC. <Click>"Thank you for your time, citizen. Enjoy the remainder of the evening."<Click> Kerrie was satisfied by the man's IPKC and soon began walking towards her previous post. It would not be long until her shift would be over.

"Oh and uh...I'm actually glad you caught up with me." He quickly slung the A280 over his shoulder and used his now free right hand to reach into a pouch on his utility belt, removing another ID with a picture of Rake Carson. "I caught this asshole tryin' to disturb the peace ... after I asked him for ID he tried to grab my rifle. Put a couple of holes in 'im if I remember. Then his lil' buddy thought it'd be smart to stun me and send my ass to the infirmary."

"Damn," Kerrie thought to herself as she heard the man call back for her. She turned, again, and walked back towards the man. Her eyes focused on the ID ... it was familiar to her. <Click>"That same individual was arrested on the station last evening, but he is no longer in custody."<Click>

"Kessel?" the man asked.

Kerrie wished that was the answer, but unfortunately it was not. <Click>"Negative. He was released into the custody of another individual." <Click>

"...I see. Ya mind if I keep it?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced toward the ID, hoping she would hand it back to him for his own PERSONAL reasons.

<Click>"By all means, citizen."<Click> Kerrie responded in a polite tone, she really did not care. She looked at her chronometer and noted her shift change was nearly upon her. "Thank Goodness," she thought as she walked back towards her post to fill out the last few moments of her shift.

With that a grin spread across his face as he plucked the card from the troopers grasp and tucked it into his pocket. He unslung the A280 Blaster Rifle from his shoulder and cradled it in his arms once more as he began to pace outside the entrance of the Saloon. Lex was not in much of a mood to deal with the patrons inside, instead he thought he'd give patrons finding entrance a hard time. Maybe he would ask for a entry fee or something.

The lean lanky frame of Hapan misfit meandered leisurely through one of many station corridors, the sound of her flashy and unusual strap heels clicking with every step. With an air of arrogance and sporting the smug grin to substantiate the mentality, she flipped a few of the platinum blonde braided dreadlocks with black roots back over her shoulder, strange grey eyes with black flecks sparkling. As usual, Parka was dressed by the bare minimum, void of weaponry of any kind except a penchant for attitude and the sharp tongue to convey such.

So many possibilities, so little time. The options for creating trouble were endless, and free to pester any number of beings present, Parka contemplated the pockets to pick, guards to pester...hell she could even seek out an Empress Teta-style Sabacc game to cheat her way through. Instead, as she ambled past the shoddy little makings of a bar, cloudy pools widened at the prospect. The makings of a content smile curled the corners of her lips as she shuffled in, briefly evaluating those present before searching for the bar, already tasting a glass of Whyren's Reserve.

The obnoxious and potentially mouthy miscreant sidled up to the bar top and pulled herself up onto one of the stools, waving a couple fingers casually to get the tender's attention. "Make with the service...Whyren's" she issued the near command without batting an eye. Fingers dipped down into the front of her silver spaghetti strap camisole to fish out credits from unknown depths, which she slid across the bar top.

The tender placed the pricey liquor down in front of Parka, which she snatched up immediately. In a fraction of a second, the glass was at her lips, its contents already down her throat in one hellacious gulp. For a moment, Parka's face manifested the anguish of chugging such a potent beverage, but it was short lived and faded instantly. A smug grin replaced it, wiping at her chin with the back of her right hand.

Parka flagged the tender down again and offered up a charming grin. "One more please" she quipped.

The tender shook his head, eyeing the young woman skeptically. "You know, this is ideal for sipping" he replied lazily.

Parka's fingertips drummed the bar top impatiently. "You know, all this talking and you could be getting my drink" she snapped.

The tender looked unamused, but filled the woman's request with another glass of Whyren's.

Parka chucked a couple credits at him and nudged the glass towards her. "If I want your opinion, I'll give it to you" she added, sticking her tongue out briefly before shooting the drink again.

Feeling all warm and fuzzy with a few solid drinks in her, Parka swiveled about on her bar stool and hopped down. Straightening her skirt, she shuffled towards the door, utterly pleased with herself for no apparent reason and sporting the shit-eating grin to prove it. As she stepped over the threshold, Parka cast a quick glance about, grey orbs vacillating from one sentient to another before heading off in one direction, no real purpose to her gait or posture.

Parka ambled back down the hall, dawdling aimlessly with not a care. As she moved past the trooper, she gave a mock salute. "Good job trooper, keep up the good work" she said, a snide hue to her tone of voice.

Kerrie could not believe her eyes as her gaze came upon Parka Pepper emerging from the Saloon. The odds of encountering this woman right under her nose seemed astronomical. If ever this woman had a nemesis it was her, and in fact it was very failure in dealing with her that resulted in her being transferred to this backwater assignment. <Click>"Halt!<Click> she shouted angrily from underneath her helmet towards her, as she made her rather snide remark.

Parka's heels fell silent on the floor paneling as she came to a stop, turning to cast a cloudy gaze over her right shoulder to the trooper. This was a surprise. Her black flecked pools narrowed slightly, mind whirling in debate as to the best course of action.

Kerrie walked over towards Parka, her face reddening in a sense of profound rage. Beneath her helmet, she was fuming ... her eyes narrowed on the woman, her brow furrowing as she stared her down intently. <Click>"Identification, please."<Click> she said to the woman, in an authoritative tone.

"Um...can we make this quick...I have a nail appointment" Parka stated, fishing about her person for the document in question. Given there was not much to her clothes, it befuddled the mind to contemplate where she could be keeping said item. "Oh what do you know. I left it on the ship. Lemme go get it..." she said, immediately turning and hastening away.

"Damn it," Kerrie muttered her beneath her helmet. Quickly, she began 'storming' down the corridor behind Parka. It was incredibly difficult to run in the armor, and her body temperature began rising rapidly from the exertion of trying to run in the full suit of armor. <Click>"Halt!"<Click> she commanded angrily through her helmet's intercom as she gave chase. She raised her E-11 blaster rifle, but because of the crowd of civilians she could not risk firing a stun coil.

The metallic voice emanated towards her, spurning her on. Another quick glance was all it took for Parka to kick it into high gear, taking off at full tilt down the corridor. Amid dodging the various sentients moving up and down the corridors, Parka's eyes searched nervously for an outlet or recess to duck into. Closing on a T-junction, she took the corner fast, allowing her body to hit the wall, the momentum of her speed driving her into a spin which she easily recovered from and set her facing forward to push herself back into a sprint.

Kerrie was huffing and puffing as she chased down her prey, but she was rapidly outpacing her. Her visor was fogging up as the perspiration on her sweat began to condensate. <Click>"Halt!"<Click> she called out to the woman again, who had now turned the corner. Her vision slightly obscure, she did not notice the open floor paneling where maintenance was being performed. As she approached, her right foot fell into the opening. Her body stopped instantly as her foot wedged in the hole. Her body quickly fell forward, dropping like a sack of potatoes, as the exhausted Commander landed face first on the deckplating. "Ugh..." she groaned beneath her helmet as she landed, a dull *thud* echoing through the corridor.

Breathing heavily herself, Parka came to a slow stop. With the trooper nowhere in site, she leaned over to rest her hands on her knees to rest while she caught her breath. After a few moments, she straightened, leaning against the corridor wall to steady herself while she hefted up one foot at a time to unstrap her sandals. A smirk found its way across her slightly flushed facade as she managed a chuckle out loud, pleased with herself.

"Son of a..." Kerrie muttered to herself as she pushed herself off the deck plating. Her ankle was sprained, and walking proved difficult. "At least my shift is over," a dejected Kerrie thought to herself as she made the slow, limping walk from her position to the Imperial barracks. When she arrived in the Imperial section, she willed herself to walk more upright. She wanted to avoid any further attention from the rowdy members of the 105th. All she wanted was a quick sonic shower and then to get right to bed.

"Did you break a nail today?" one of the Troopers shouted at her from his locker, mocking the diminutive female.

"Be careful," another Trooper shouted towards the other one, "She might be having her period." A chorus of laughs and howls filled the room.

"Nah," a third Trooper added, "If she was on her period we'd know ... the white armor and all."

Kerrie was in no mood to deal with the men, and ignored their disgusting comments. Her shift over, she retired to her locker and began stripping out of her armor. She was exhausted, but she had gotten through another day.

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