Derek stood in a docking bay in the city
of Doaba Guerfel, Corellia. The city stood out in a mountain range on
the northeast quadrant of the planet's largest quadrant. The metallic
architecture rose like peaks in the mountain range, a perfect blend of
nature and industry. Nervously, he looked over a datapad invoice as a
series of crates were being loaded onto his transport. His eyes narrowed
on the small, beady-eyed Rodian standing next to him. "You sure it's all
here?" he asked, doubt clear in his voice.
"Of course it's all here!" the Rodian
replied angrily, "What kind of a business do you think I do here?"
Insulted, the man sneered at him and folded his arms in front of chest
as he delivered a nasty glare.
A short distance away was the charming
Parka, leaning against a wall and concentrating on blowing perfect smoke
rings. Thoroughly uninterested in whatever business Derek was
conducting, she preoccupied herself with such trivialities. Her back
pressed to the wall in a comfortable lean and one sandaled foot resting
against it as well, she was careless as usual.
Derek tilted his head at the strange
little Rodian that was supervising the cargo load. This was not the time
to get into an argument over an illegal arms sale and he could not
exactly stop and inspect every crate going aboard the transport. Time
was a factor. Nervously, he rolled the sleeve of his flight jacket up
and examined his wrist chronometer. "Shit," he muttered quietly to
himself ... he was behind schedule. His attention turned to Parka,
lingering on her body a bit too long. He shook his head quickly trying
to purge any 'dirty' thoughts from his mind ... now was not the time.
"Parka..." he called to her from across the bay, "Wanna give a hand?"
Parka did not even so much dignify him
with a turn of the head. Instead she finished shaping a few more circles
before exhaling the last of the smoke from her lungs. "Nope."
Derek rolled his eyes at her and turned
his attention back towards the cargo shipment. The last of the crates
were being loaded on the ship now. He pursed his lips as he evaluated
the little Rodian in greater detail. Reluctantly, he pulled the credit
chip from his jacket's pocket and offered it to the Rodian. "Best clear
out," he warned the Rodian as he handed the money over.
The Rodian snatched the credit chip out
of Derek's hand and stuffed in greedily into his own pocket. "Nice doing
business with you," the Rodian said in an arrogant tone. He gave the man
one final glare before walking towards the exit of the docking bay.
Finishing her smoke, Parka flicked it to
the ground before strolling back towards the ship. En route she stopped
in mid-stride to step on the butt, grinding it into the tarmac to snuff
it out before continuing on. A lengthy yawn and she stopped outside the
ship, hands settling on slender hips. "It's about time" she mused out
loud, grinning wryly towards Derek.
"Halt!" a Corellian Security Force
officer yelled towards Derek and Parka as he entered the docking bay
where their ship was docked. His hands immediately went to his blaster
pistol and withdrew it from his holster. "You failed to fill out a cargo
manifest," he said as he walked towards them, "I'll need to inspect your
cargo before you can take off."
Derek threw a sharp glance to Parka as
the CorSec officer approached. "Get aboard," he mouthed to her quietly.
A polite smile formed upon his lips as his attention turned towards the
officer. "I have the manifest right here," he said pleasantly as he
hoped to talk his way out of the situation.
Parka returned fire via staunch gaze
back to Derek before trudging up the ramp. She meandered to the
passenger compartment, taking a seat and leaning back into the cushions
comfortably, arms spreading out to drape across the top of the cushions
"Let's see the manifest," the CorSec
officer said as he approached Derek. He sized the man up from
head-to-toe. He noted the blaster carbine at the man's thigh with some
"Of course, officer," Derek said slyly
as he extended the datapad towards the man. On top of the blank screen
was a credit chip. He looked away from the man for a moment, giving him
plenty of time to take the bribe.
"Nice try, smuggler," the CorSec officer
responded defiantly as he pulled the blaster pistol up to line up with
Derek drew the blaster carbine up from
his thigh holster quickly. Within a moment he had it leveled with the
CorSec officer's chest. It only took an instant for him to gently pull
back on the trigger and fire a bolt of lethal energy at point blank
"Ahh," the CorSec officer cried out in
pain as he fell backwards, the bolt of energy boring a hole through his
chest. He squeezed back on the trigger of his blaster as he fell,
unleashing a wild shot at Derek's chest.
"Ugh," Derek groaned as the bolt of
energy impacted his left shoulder. It burned through his clothing and
caused a nasty energy burn, melting the skin and creating a ghastly
wound. He closed his eyes and groaned in pain before hurrying up the
docking ramp. His hand slammed on the controls to the ramp before
reaching across his chest to hold the wound. He struggled forward
towards the cockpit so he could get them out of here. "Strap yourself
in," he said to Parka, weakly.
Parka's black flecked eyes followed
Derek, wide with curiosity. "You should have let me bribe him. I bet he
wouldn't have turned down my chest in his face" she called after him,
sitting up slightly to dig around for the crash restraint.
"This guy had a stick up his ass," Derek
explained as he made his way to the cockpit. As he sat down in the seat
next to her, he reached to the control panel above him and activated the
main reactor. "I can't wear my harness," Derek said quietly to her as he
examined the wound. It would hurt way too much. He looked out the
view-ports and saw additional CorSec officers arriving on the docking
bay. "I hope you don't have any friends on Corellia," he said jokingly,
"We overstayed our welcome and I don't think we'll get an invitation
Parka leaned forward slightly to stare
out the view-ports at the authorities collecting. Her head turned
slightly towards him, eyes flickering towards his wound. "Is that what
you call negotiating?"
"I never said I was any good at it,"
Derek replied to Parka with his usual overconfident grin. The panel in
front of him went green to indicate the reactor was online. He grabbed
hold of the flight stick in front of him and cried out in pain as the
burnt muscle tissue in his left shoulder shifted, "Ahhhhh." Using what
strength he could muster he lifted the ship off the docking bay with the
repulsorlift engines. The officers begin firing their blasters at the
transport, but most of their shots proved to be ineffective.
Parka unstrapped herself, and using the
walls to sturdy herself during their unceremonious take-off. "I'll find
some bacta patches..." she said, gripping the door frame of the cockpit.
Derek's tried to move his left hand over
towards the throttle to active the sublight engines, but he just could
not move his arm that far. "Arr," he groaned in pain as he struggled
with the controls. "Parka!" he shouted to her as she moved away, "I need
you to push the throttle all the way forward or we're going nowhere."
His head tilted towards the throttle, indicating its location with his
Parka stopped, turning to fix him with
an unhappy expression. "You have two hands..." she grumbled, stepping back
towards him and reaching around his chair. Without wasting time, she
punched the throttle forward abruptly, the sudden jolt knocking her into
the back wall of the cockpit. She hit with a grunt, but quickly
recovered, reaching forward to grab the closest seat to steady herself
again during the ascent.
"I 'had' two hands, Parka," Derek said,
only half-joking. As she moved the throttle forward he pulled back on
the flight stick. At full atmospheric speed, the transport quickly
accelerated through the planet's atmosphere. It only took several
moments for the ship to enter outer space. The sensors began flashing
repeatedly as they detected several Corellian Defense Force ships on
approach. "Damn it!" Derek cursed as he looked at the sensor readout. "I
can't do this myself," he explained to Parka as he kept his hand on his
wound. Get the nav-computer online. Download the coordinates for Yavin
before we're toast."
"You pussy" she spat, sitting back down
in her seat and beginning to work immediately. By now she was familiar
enough with the ship to have a solid clue as to where everything was.
She worked quickly, scrambling to get the coordinates.
The computer beeped several times,
indicating it had downloaded the coordinates for the Yavin system. The
ship began to shake violently as blaster fire from a patrol boat began
impacting the transport. The view-port flashed brilliant as one blast
came a bit too close. "Let's get out of here," Derek said as he pushed
the controls forward for the hyperdrive. A moment later the stars in
front of them swirled as the ship streaked forward into hyperspace
towards its destination. With his last bit of energy he toggled the
auto-pilot on. Content that they were safe he let out a slow groan and
slumped forward in his chair, the pain of the wound overpowering him.
Safely delivered into hyperspace, Parka
leaned back, head turning towards him. "Come on...drag your gimp self
into the back and we'll clean you up" she said, reaching towards him and
smacking his good shoulder playfully.
Derek groaned loudly as he raised
himself out of his seat. He looked at her, looking very weak and out of
it. He stumbled forward and used his right hand to brace himself up
against the corridor's wall. It took time, but he eventually made
himself back to the passenger compartment of the ship. He sighed in
relief as he slumped down on one of the sofas, and spread himself out
Parka followed him, continuing on to one
of the cabinets and rummaging through until she found a few basic
medical supplies. "Men are such babies" she mumbled, drawing up a stool
next to the couch and setting the items down beside her. She tugged one
the sterile latex-like gloves, taking care to snap one of them with an
evil grin plastered on her face. "Now, bend over...and try to relax..."
"Oh you'd enjoy that wouldn't you?"
Derek said as he flashed a grin up at her, fighting through the pain.
"As tempting as that sounds," he said with a slight laugh, "I think I'll
hold off until I've healed a bit."
"Not as much as you'd enjoy it" she
replied matter-of-factly before cutting away part of the shirt so as not
to tear away the fabric that had cauterized to the wound. She went about
cleaning it, saturating the wound to soften it and remove the last bits
of shirt. "What a shame. I guess you'll have to use that other hand for
the next couple nights eh" she smirked wildly.
"After this," Derek began as he smiled
up at her, "Why don't we bust out a bottle of Menkooro and see if we
can't find another hand available?" He laughed at his statement, the
pain causing him to lower his usual tightly controlled attraction for
"Oh? There's someone else here?" she
asked coyly. Finally she flattened a bacta patch over him, smoothing it
carefully before inspecting it. "You'll live..." she affirmed with a
solid nod. This coming from the same woman who had spent days in hiding,
nursing two blaster bolt wounds on her legs.
"Yes," Derek replied as he examined the
bandaging, "But will I still have my boyish figure?" he laughed as his
eyes darted towards the bottle of Menkorro. He could use a drink right
"That's not a six pack, friend. I
believe 'keg' is the more accurate term" she stuck her tongue out at him
and pushed the stool back from the couch, well out of arm's reach as she
plucked her gloves off.
With a groan, Derek shifted himself up
on the couch until he was sitting up. "That was close," he said to her
nervously, "We'll have to be more careful next time."
Parka continued to nudge the stool back
until it backed the small gaming table in the compartment. "You should
have let him on board. I would have been glad to...show him the
goods..." she cooed sweetly, one long slender leg crossing over the
other. Beneath that tiny black skirt, those legs clearly went *all* the
way up. If she was wearing panties, they too, were the bare minimum.
*if* she was wearing panties...
Derek watched her intently. He was
bordering on gawking at her. He smiled contently as he rose from his
seat and walked towards the bottle of Menkooro whiskey. He removed the
cap and poured himself a double into one of the slightly clean glasses
on the table. He then poured herself a regular-sized glass. He picked up
both glasses in his good arm's hand and walked over towards with a
confident gate. He placed the glass in front of her and slid it towards
her. "When do *I* get to see the goods?" he asked as knocked back the
double whiskey he poured himself.
Not to be one-upped, Parka shot the
glass of whiskey as well, flinching only slightly as it went down
painfully. "What makes you think you get to at all?" she smirked,
placing the glass back down.
Derek gasped for air as the liquid ran
down his throat and nearly did more damage than the blaster shot. "I'm
an optimist," Derek said as he walked over and retrieved the bottle of
whiskey. "I'm also irresistible," he said in a cocky tone as he refilled
both of their glasses.
"Oh I can tell" she replied, a smart-ass
grin still stuck firmly across her lips. "I mean...that swarm of women
that follows you around...how *hard* it must be on you..." she nodded
Derek's grin disappeared behind the
glass as he downed the whiskey just as quick as the first. His eyes
never left her body as he put the glass back down on the table. "You
following me is all I need," he informed her with a loud chuckle.
Parka likewise shot the second glass
he'd poured before wiping at her mouth. "Save it, flyboy. Those cheesy
lines don't work on me" she replied defiantly. She licked her lips a few
times, wincing in the aftermath of such a painful drink. "I should stop
drinking..." she mumbled absently.
"What does work on you?" Derek asked
jokingly as he refilled the glasses for the third round. There was no
painkiller aboard, so he had to treat his situation in this makeshift,
timeless method. "I'm not above following cue cards," he said as he
knocked down his drink. He grunted loudly as he slammed the empty down
on the table, exhaling sharply.
"Whatever it takes to get what you want,
right?" she grinned lightly, but it disappeared when she took the third
shot. She shook her head, as if she could physically dust away the
discomfort. "I don't play that game, sorry" she smirked with finality,
putting the glass down yet again.
"Maybe there's another game you'd like
to play," Derek said as his grin widened so much it nearly cut his face
in half. The alcohol had done its job ... on him at least. He walked
around the table towards her and reached with his hand towards the side
of her face, brushing against her cheek softly.
Parka's eyes narrowed on him slightly.
She reached up towards his hand, pulling at it lightly. "I think you've
had enough" she said evenly.
"Looks I'm not clear for landing," Derek
said to her, a bit disappointed. He raised his eyebrows at her and
backed away slowly. He stumbled slightly, before crashing back down on
the sofa from which he came. "Ugh," he groaned as he closed his eyes and
prepared to settle in for the night.
"Not all ports are easy access" she
retorted, getting to her feet. Promptly she removed her sandals, tossing
them off to the side before padding silently towards the cockpit to get
comfortable in the copilot's chair.
"It's a big ship, baby," Derek shouted
towards her as he began to drift off to sleep. He would try again ... it
took more than that to deter the kind of scoundrel he was.
Her head appeared around some wall, if
only for a moment. "Don't call me baby" she snapped, scowling before
disappearing back from whence she came. In the cockpit, the door slid
shut behind her and she sighed contently. Dropping into the copilots
chair, she kicked bare feet with bright red toenails up onto one of the
bulkheads, and lounged deeply into the chair, arms draping lazily over
the rests. Eyes half closed, watching the starlines numbly.
"Whatever you say ... baby," Derek said
quietly, doubting she could hear him. He sighed contently as he turned
his head towards the wall and gradually drifted off to sleep in a warm,