Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Liz Dorner and Christopher Levy.
One year before the Battle of Yavin (34:10:27) in the Corellian system: Corellia (Doaba Guerfel: Spaceport) and Gilded Thranta.
Commander Derek Atio and Parka Pepper.

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 leisurely.

"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 suspicion.

"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's chest.

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 range.

"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 back."

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 eyes.

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 comfortably.

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 her.

"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 about now.

"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 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 *hard* it must be on you..." she nodded sympathetically.

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, drunken state.

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