Log:Trader's Guild: Eye of The Squall
Idan Jensa is glued to the piloting yoke, as he tries to keep the big ship stable amid high winds, his elaborate hat wobbling atop his head frenetically. "I.. *may* have underestimated the difficulty of this." The storms were raging with unexpected fury and the Bottom Line had tried and failed to set down twice before. (re-pose for Muri)
"We ARE there... but the planet appears to be.. of poor manners," the Neimoidian states to Zul without looking backward.
Liz'diot glares at Idan from behind the Engineering console, "INDEED! FETTED! The engines are straining far too much. This thing is too wide. It's like a sail. YAS."
Zul Gradnk blinks "Mmm...." she muses "Scoot over." she says, getting up "Where are we landing again? May have overslept the announcement."
"YOU TRYING TO LAND THIS BARGE IN A SQUALL!?!?!?" Oh look, Muri's here to, having finally made her way up from the cargo deck below where she was (again) tallying up anticipated profit and possibly having a smoke. She braces herself in the cockpit hatch, looking with wide eyes at the view out that viewport.
"A planet called.." Idan struggles to remember for a moment, focused as he is on the task of not crashing. "Ylesia. Liz'diot! I cannot remember the name of the port below us, what is the name of the port below us??" General tension has left the skinny Neimoidian desperate to recall that minor detail. Muri's demand to verify his poor decisionmaking was answered indignantly, "WE WOULD HAVE EARNED A BONUS."
Zul Gradnk pales as she hears the name of the planet "TURN AROUND! TURN AROUDN!" she yells, reaching towards the console, as if wanting to turn the ship around herself "WE aren't going there!" she says "Under no condition. We aren't going there!"
Liz'diot looks back to Netep, his little snake like tongue jutting out of his mouth hole and wiggling in agreement. "A BONUS we now lost because we've been fighting this STORM too long." Liz would have had them end up in an equally crappy situation. He wouldn't never admit to it though. Big buldging black eyes look to Zul, "CALM YOURSELF, FEMALE! We are delivering legitimate Cargo and our losses will be significant if it isn't delivered at all. INDEED." "I'm sure that'll impress the fish plenty, when they're eating our eyes," Netep snorts about the bonus, and averts her eyes from impending doom to the little hole forming in the seam of her left armpit. Well, hell. "Quit fighting the wind. Get above it, circle around, and let it carry you in," she suggests. "If we DO land in one piece, we'll be laughed off the tarmac soon enough, I'm sure, Zul."
Idan Jensa mumbles imprecautions in his own language as he reluctantly gives in to Muri's superior advice and guides the ship back up above the storm, being buffeted about, throughout. "Legitimate cargo!" he echoes Liz. "And if we fail to deliver it, a bounty will be placed on my head! I LACK THE PROPER HAT FOR FACING BOUNTY HUNTERS."
Zul Gradnk pouts, still trying to get the controls "I don't care!" she claims "I won't let you help the slave trade." she claims with panic in her eyesm trying to fight for teh controls "Better dead than helping trade slaves!"
Liz'diot stares at Zul, then looks to Netep, eyes Idan. He holds tight to his clamped-in hover chair until the turbulance subsides enough. "FOOL!" He exclaims to Zul, "We are not helping the slave trade. Besides, your species is single handedly causing the extinction of the HU-MONS so enslaving you is a bad plan. Also, the slave trade loses more money than it makes." Where is he getting this information. He runs a scan, "FETTED, the spacial Flux modulator on te dampners are faulting after all this... I must attend to their repair."
"Where do you think their food and medical comes from!?" Netep challenges Zul's protests and lurches forward to grab the Twi'lek's arms in attempts to pull her away from the console/poor Idan's lap. "You think the Hutts invested in serious agriculture here?" They might have, she has no idea, "it's Spice! Spice and bodies to mine the spice and those bodies need ....stuff!" A glance to Liz'diot "Good luck."
Idan Jensa holds to the steering mechanism that is clearly the result of love of credits and fear of bounty hunters more than it comes from his skinny arms. "No! Let go! LeggoNao," he insists, ineffectively at Zul, giving a terse, "Thank you!" as Muri steps in to help. "I for one would not rather die, today."
Zul Gradnk gulps, trying to flail, to get free to get free of Netep "No! I won't help anything to do with slaves!" she claims "Please! We can't land there!" she says "If we get any supplies.... they will just continue running slaving. The less people deliver to them, the less supplies, the less slaves they run." she claims, freeing an arm finally and reaching for the mechanism again "We can't help slavers..." she adds "I mean, if we get food, they can only continue...." she clearly isn't thinking too clearly right now, overrun by emotions and fear
Liz'diot is hoving around the corner but stops as Zul goes on about her fears and the like... and as she takes over the mechanizem again, the Bith goes flying out of his chair and right into the wall. "Owwww!" He cries, "You insolent FOOL. YOU are the reason the entire Galaxy thinks Twi'leks are big dumb animals only good for the sexual pleasure of HU-MONS and other mammilian species!" He's bleeding dark black blood from his boulbous veiny head. He attemps to crawl back towards his chair. His arms the only thing working as his tiny legs lay limply across the floor. "Rocket parts..." He mutters, collapsing onto the ground out of breath as he's not the strength to carry on. "How does Fetted rocket parts help the slave trade?" He mutters.
Netep falls back across the copilot seat, rump half hanging off the edge with a leg hiked over the arm. "She's gone barvy..." Muri growls while struggling to right herself out of the wedge. When slid free, she turns her back on the pilot arm-wrestling match and grumps at Liz "Shut up, you're not helping" but bends to heft him up and back into his chair.
"Zul, crashing an' burnin here or losing our ship/selves to future hunts and 'coincidental' acts of piracy isn't going to help, either. But how's bout a compromise? Idan, port authority's been watching Bottom Line struggle for a good while in the air, yeah? A tip in the wrong direction isn't outside the realm of possibility. Circle around like you're comin in for the landing, overshoot, give that surf a chop with our tail and open the bay. Gimme ten minutes, I'll go down there, loosen all the maglocks and strap-ins. It'll be an accident. If they still want the cargo, they can swim for it. Not our fault."
Zul Gradnk nods, smiling "Say, were we paid in advance?" she wonders, smirking and grinning, letting go of the controlls now, evidently happy, turning back to help Liz as well "Idan, where is the medicine cabinet? I think we could use something for that wound." she says "I think I even remember some first aid..." she purposefully ignores Liz rant
Idan Jensa clings desperately onto the steering console as Zul pries one of his noodle arms off the yoke, resulting in a sudden swerve of the entire freighter. "Not! Helping!" he complains. "Listen! Listen, we can discuss this... rationally! Stop trying to crash us!" Muri and Zul are answered, "NO we were not paid in advance! I suggest this: let me get clear of the storm, attend to Liz, and once this job is over, the Traders Union will never again contract with Ylesia. A fair deal?"
Zul Gradnk sighs, looking at Netep "Can't we still loosen the maglocks?" she offers "Would make it even better." she explains "And no job with Ylesia. Except if it is bombs. And we prepare them to detonate in their faces." she adds "Would be happy to have them go..."
"You wanna let a few crates roll around back there, I won't stop you," Muri shrugs and huffs her way back into a seat, buckling in TIGHTLY. A nod to Idan. "Fair deal."
Liz'diot , now back in his chair doesn't thank anyone. He had too mucj pride. Instead with a bloody head makes his way aft to assess the damage.