Like a long-awaited prize, the almost crystalline blue planet Vaynai seemed to beckon them on as it appeared in the distance and steadily began to grow in size. Kicking up his feet onto the control console and leaning in his chair with his arms behind his head, Captain Marikk Danar smiled, almost feeling the warm ocean breeze on his face already as he watched their approach to the oceanic planet. Vaynai was covered mostly by shallow seas and boasted only one permanent settlement at the spaceport in the islands of the Vaynai archipelago. It would be there, of course, they would be traveling to, or, more specifically the place called Streysel Island, according to their letter of recommendation from the repair master Jo'eno Finn at the Chandrilla space station. It had been a favor to Dormanin that he had given them these coordinates, as a sign of goodwill since, at the moment, their coffers were a little too empty to afford his prices. Thus they were to go to an establishment owned by a Nautolan fellow by the name of Het Kibo, Finn's friend and associate, to hopefully get their ship up and fully repaired once more.

"Ahhh, after all we've been through, an ocean-side visit should be quite relaxing," Marikk reveled, awash in a peaceful spirit.

The Quarren Sillek turned in his chair to the Captain's right and stared out at the planet, an unusual twinkle in his eyes as he did. "This shall be an enjoyable change of pace from bounty hunters and high speed chases. It has been far too long since I have visited the ocean of any world, at least in a leisurely sense."

"I just hope the seafood is good," another voice, Craeldo, piped; joined soon after by the chuckles of his crewmates.

Within minutes, the main viewport was awash with nothing but clear water and pure white clouds as over the ship's comm system, something began to buzz through.

"Welcome to Vaynai. Incoming vessels must first descend to an altitude of no more than fifty meters at least twenty kilometers from the archipelago," began a cool feminine voice, clearly an automated warning from the local spaceport authorities. "At this point ship may approach from the north or south vectors. Do not exceed the fifty-meter altitude limit. If you travel above fifty meters, the local aristocracy may exercise its right to secure airspace. Enjoy your stay on Vaynai, and clear skies."

Abras, Sillek and the Captain each looked at each other as the message faded into waves of static, the former of whom had a smirk on his face. "Well, at least they gave us a warning."

"Oh yeah. I'd hate to get us in trouble this early in the game." Sitting upright once more in his seat, Marikk began to make the appropriate course corrections, leaned back his head and watched as the waves grew closer. "Hopefully, though, we can go the whole visit without much trouble at all. That, too, would be a nice change of pace."

A motley lot of beings and droids scuttled about the stone-embedded repair bay as they went about their duties of cleaning, arranging and preparing the chamber for the work ahead. At the entrance of the great cavern, overlooking the cliffside and the crashing white waves below, the leader of the group, an aged Nautolan, stood stalwart, gray-green tendrils drawn back behind his head by a band and wearing a loose, buttoned tan vest, arms bare, and baggy tan pants bound at the waist by his utility belt. All was surprising clean, considering his line of work.

"Come on you lot!" Het Kibo barked, still keeping his gleaming ebony eyes staring out over the cliff. "These friends, or whatever they are, of Jo'eno's should be arriving soon, by my estimation. I want this bay above peak condition when they get here." Arms crossed over his stomach, he spit over the edge and into the water below, this time muttering under his breath. "If this ship is anything like Joey told me, I'm going to make a mint."

As he spun around on heel, he was surprised to see how much his crew had gotten everything done even though they had only gotten to work at the last moment. The Coolant and grease spills had been cleaned up from the floor plating and everything was looking generally tidy. A toothy grin crossed his amphibian face as he strode slowly down the bay's center.

To his far left, there was a clatter of metal that rang out over the noise, followed soon by the flaring of an alien language and various mechanical squeaks and beeps. Glancing over quickly, Kibo found a porcine Ugnaught flailing his arms about in the air as he went on a tirade as a Treadwell droid angrily rammed repeatedly into its foot and squeaked, all this over a stack of tools that had been knocked to the ground.

"Hey you two!" The Nautolan growled, his brow descending heavily upon his eyes. "Stop acting like a pair of half-witted squid farmers and get that cleaned up!"

Bowing and chirping in submission, the two went busily to work picking up after themselves when something else, a tug at the back of his vest, vied for his attention. Upon inspection, the bay master found it to be his Aleena assistant, Tyn Bostell.

"Um, sir…Master Kibo, sir!"

Het raised an eyebrow curiously. "Yeeees? What is it? What do you want?"

"Look, sir!" Hopping in excitement, the little blue reptilian creature pointed out the bay doors to a small speck in the distance, looking to be flying straight for them.

"Hurry it up, people! They're almost here!"

Slowly, over the matter of a few minutes, it drew closer and grew in size. Their destination was assured. Soon, what had formerly been a speck now grew into the profile of an old Republic diplomatic cruiser.

As it drew within a few hundred meters, Het dashed about giving last minute orders and getting his workers cleared from the main floor. When at last the old ship entered into the stone and durasteel confines of the repair bay, its engines roaring and the bulk of it hull, pits, blast mark and gaping wounds now visible upon it, moaning and shaking, the Nautolan, his Aleena assistant and the rest of the moderately-sized repair crew stood at attention just in front of the entranceway to the business's administrative offices.

The ship's mechanical workings whirred as it came to a rest and its landing ramp dropped hard to the ground in a spray of steam.

"My word, Jo'eno wasn't kidding," whispered the manager to Tyn. "This old barge looks about done for." Two figures appeared through the mist veil at the top of the ramp soon after, the lead rather imposing in size. Their approach snapped him to attention, Kibo extended both arms out and put on a beaming smile as he stepped forwards towards them, now revealed as a rather imposing Vurk and his white LE repair droid. "Welcome to Vaynai, friends! I am Het Kibo, owner of this establishment. I assume that you are the persons of whom I was recommended by Master Jo'eno Finn of Chandrilla Station?"

"We are indeed the same," echoed the translator on the Vurk's belt in a resonating bass as he reached out and shook Kibo's hand, slightly crushing it under the pressure. "I am Dormanin Vebis, chief engineer aboard the Nova Hound, and this is my assistant, Leda."

In an odd display, it looked almost like the droid curtsied at the mention of its name, and slightly more peculiarly, especially for a repair droid, it spoke with a feminine tone. "It is a pleasure, sir."

"Now then, Mister Kibo, if it is possible, I would like to begin repairs as soon as possible. Also, if it is not too much trouble, I would like to assist."

Nursing his hand, the Nautolan tried to smile again. "Of course, of course. As your fine craft's engineer, it would be a pleasure to have your knowledge of the ol' girl readily available as we work." Pausing, he motioned towards the administration offices with his good hand. "First, however, there's the small task of the paperwork that still must be dealt with. If you have a financial advisor available, this may be the time…"

"No, no… that will be fine," Dorm quickly interjected. "We discussed a few things before I disembarked, so I know exactly what rates we would be willing to pay."

"Very well then, if you'll just follow me, we'll get this out of the way quickly and then set to work." Waving his crew out of the way, Het made his way past, with Dorm and Leda closely in tow, and guided them on to his office to begin the proceedings.

The bay and the inside of the Nova Hound itself was alive with the sound of repair work in all its various forms, and all of it was getting too much for the Captain's nerves. The rattling and grinding and whirring of it all even resounded within what he had hoped would have been the quiet solace of his own quarters, but there was no such luck finding relief anywhere on the ship much less there. Slipping his jacket on over his shoulders, Marikk scrabbled quickly down the landing ramp, nearly tripping over a green R2 unit who was rolling up to go to work on the ship's systems. He curled his lip and grumbled under his breath as he regained his balance and watched the droid continue on its way.

At the bottom of the ramp, he paused and clamped a hand over his chin. He had decided to get out before the noise drove him up the wall, yes, but the thing was that he never decided where he was gonna go. It was then, though, that a sweet scent caught his attention; definitely not something you would find in a repair shop. Marikk turned quickly to follow the aroma and caught a glimpse of a modified Ubrikkian barge docked at the entrance of Kibo's bay and on board, sitting at some café tables on the top deck, some of his crew. Crossing the bridge connecting the barge and the Cliffside, he made his way over to take a seat with Obbeo, Sillek and Loon, all of whom were already dining.

"It is not bad for food made on a old barge," he heard the Ortolan chef Obbeo commented to the others as he slurped up a few strands of Rodian rygg-noodles, "but this is nothing compared to my fine cuisine. I would have changed the spices just slightly to give a bolder taste."

Marikk smirked, glancing over each of their dishes. "Obbeo, you would have something to say about the food if it was prepared by the personal chef of the Emperor himself."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far…"

"Yes, you would, Ortolan. Don't deny it," Loon quipped, picking over his dish.

Obbeo reared back to punch the half-Neimoidian accountant, but the Captain quickly intervened and calmed them both down. "Now, now, let's try to keep the fights at a minimum, shall we? Anyway, we have more important things to take care of. By the way, is everything taken care of? The paperwork and such I mean."

"You'll have to ask Dormanin about that. He didn't want me to come along this time because he thought I'd be too much of a distraction or cause a commotion or some foolishness like that." There was an obvious sign of annoyance of Loon's face as he said that. "However, I was met by the customs official on my way over and made sure to take care of the docking fees, passenger tax, ect. Blood-suckers, those customs people. All they want is more credits."

"Yeah, and we don't know anyone like that," Obbeo muttered under his breath. "Now do we?"

Captain Marikk and Loon both shot him glances, which caused him to be put in his place somewhat. Of course, while the Captain did it for mediatory purposes, Loon's was merely a glare of frustration. "Well, anyone care to fill me in on this little floating restaurant?"

As was par for the course, Sillek sat on the right side of the table and sipped his tea slowly from the glass before looking over to Marikk. "It is called Uncle Nyyv's Floating Eatery. It's a local catering business run by that fellow over there." With one long finger, he pointed over toward a bar that sat beside the entrance to the lower deck and the kitchen and the Sullustan that stood behind it, wiping out a drinking glass. "That, logically, in Nyyv, the owner of the establishment. They take this barge to the local docks where ships have just landed in an attempt to feed hungry incoming crews, and they seem to be doing quite well for themselves at that, or so Nyyv boasts."

"Chatty, is he?"

The Quarren swordsman let off a slight grin, knowing at what he was implying. "Indeed, he is quite amiable, and well knowledgeable of the area. And this knowledge, I might add, he is more that willing to pass out."

"Well then," Marikk commented, smirking as he stood from his seat. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll sidle up to the bar for a bit."

A saunter in his step and a grin on his face, the Captain made his was casually across the deck, glancing at other patrons as he passed before finally coming to the bar and leaning backwards against it. The Sullustan behind it looked up cheerfully and set down his glass and rag.

"Howdy, stranger," he chimed. "Welcome to Uncle Nyyv's Floating Eatery. I'm Uncle Nyyv. What can I get for ya?"

"Have anything strong?"

"Drinks, ya mean? Nope, sorry. Don't sell the stuff. I try to keep my customers sober and orderly, as best as I can control. Might I suggest a glass of Fizzyglug, Sea Dew or Ragnook Spring Water?"

"Hmm, well since we're on Vaynai, give me a Sea Dew."

"Excellent choice, sir." Nyyv bent down and reached into a refrigeration unit hidden underneath the counter, removing a pitcher and pouring out a nice tall glass of the beverage before replacing the pitcher and sliding the glass to Marikk. "There ya' go. I was quite surprised your Quarren friend there didn't have a glass since it is made by his people. First time I've seen a tea-drinking Quarren before."

"Yeah, well Sillek's not your average Quarren. Anyway, bottom's up, my good man." Glass in hand, Marikk lifted it in salute to Nyyv and took a gulp of it, a smile on his face as he glanced back over his shoulder again. "Hey, not bad."

"Thank you kindly. I try to get only the best. Squeezed by real Quarrens."

He smirked, glancing up at the darker orange awning overtop of the dining area. "And the best kind of Quarren is the real kind, after all." Marikk stopped, placed his glass on the counter, and then turned around and leaned forward on his elbows, locking eyes with the Sullustan. "Say, do you know much about the area?"

"Do I know much about the area? My friend, if you want information, I'm your man. I've traveled to every side of Streysel Island and the surrounding network."

"So… know any places where a guy can get some work?"

Nyyv raised an eyebrow curiously. "Work? I'm afraid you're gonna have to be a little more specific. What kind of work do you do?"

"Ship-for-hire, mercenary work, some… 'quiet' importing exporting, if you get my drift."

"Ahhh, yes yes, I see." The Sullustan nodded with each word, at the same time picking up his glass and beginning to clean it once more. "I would say then the man you want to see is Onoron Fil'vye, owner of Fil'vye Tansport. His business range is quite large, reaching as far as The Corporate Sector and Hutt space. I would suggest making a visit to their headquarters on the other side of the island. Speak to one of his trade representatives and, if they're impressed with your credentials, maybe they'll give ya a chance."

"Can't I talk to Fil'vye himself?"

"Nope, not initially I'm afraid, and possibly not at all. Only a select few are invited Fil'vye's his penthouse office for a personal meeting." Nyyv grinned and puffed out his chest. "I've been privileged enough to visit with him a time or two."

"Well then, perhaps I will have to look into that." Taking his glass, Marikk chugged the remaining Sea Dew, placed it on the counter and waved as he made his way off. "Hey, thanks for your help, Uncle Nyyv. Take care."

"Whoah, wait a minute!" he cried in a confused and slightly aggravated tone. "You forgot to pay for your drink!"

Looking back briefly as he crossed the bridge, Marikk again smirked and then pointed towards the table where his crew sat, a maneuver which brought an irritated glare to Loon's face. "Just put it on their bill. They're good for it."

As cries of protest echoed out from both Obbeo and Loon, the Captain could only chuckle under his breath as he left the barge and went to attend to his business on the island. He'd probably reimburse them when he got back… maybe.

The midday sun was wonderfully warm upon Craeldo's navy blue skin as he walked along the avenue, Shalla and Abras just slightly behind him, as they wandered the Promenade, the commercial hub of the island that hosted some of its most upscale, and legal, businesses. A pleased sigh escaped the Rodian's lips as he looked up into the clear blue sky and watched a few sea birds soar through the air with their cawing voices.

"Well, this is most relaxing indeed," he commented to his two companions in a pleasant tone. Oddly, though, there was no response. For curiosity's sake, Crae decided to try again. "Such nice weather. Such a wonderful atmosphere. I guess we should be glad things didn't work out quite as planned on Chandrilla."

Again, there was not a sound. Glancing back, he watched as the Brentaal native, right arm still in its sling, walked hand in hand with the young Twi'lek medic, both of their mouths going on for what seemed forever, but neither seeming to take any notice to him. "My my… young love."

The three wandered on, all the while Craeldo was found in silence, which was becoming increasingly annoying to the normally chatty being. He would have liked to have had some sort of conversation, not just walking around with them like a mute, so he tried again to gauge their perception of the outside world. "Boy, I could sure go for a drink!"

Nothing.

"Oh look, aren't sea birds beautiful to watch?"

Likewise.

"Oh dear, one of them has poked my eye out and is flying away with it now."

The same.

"My word. My skin is turning orange and I'm starting to glow, besides the fact that I'm also now turning into a humanoid frog-dog."

That was the last straw. The Rodian stopped in his tracks and turned around just in time to see the two of them nearly walk into him. When finally they realized what was going on in front of them, they both were framed by rather puzzled looks as the stopped suddenly in their tracks.

"Crae?" Shalla finally spoke, inquiring to the situation. "What's wrong?"

"Listen you guys, I think I'm gonna go have a look around myself and leave you two to be alone, alright? I'll see ya both later."

Still puzzled, the two watched as Craeldo wandered off into one of the nearby shops, the suddenness of his announcement a complete shock. "Well, what was that about?"

Abras shrugged. "Not a clue."

"Ahh, it is indeed young love," muttered Craeldo. "For, as they say, 'Love is Blind, but apparently, though, it's also deaf." Hands in his pockets, he made his way towards one of the clothing shops off to the side of the pathway, hidden under the shade of the canopy that covered the storefronts and half of the avenue. Glancing back, he watched as the pair continued on as they had before, and then shook his head and chuckled under his breath as he made his way inside.

Dust was heavy in the air of the old antique shop, and if that alone was a sign of the age of the items scattered about within, then these were truly ancient. Marikk waved his hand about in the air in front of his face and coughed, trying to do away with any particles floating around him in the air as he looked over the various artifacts, antiques and curios from an assortment of different worlds and eras. He had attempted already to speak with someone at the Fil'vye Transport headquarters, but by having seen the packed crowd within in the main foyer and by the suggestion by the one representative he had gotten to speak with briefly, it was decided that it would be best if he returned later in the afternoon when the crowds had died down. So, with a few hours free time on his hands, the Captain decided to sightsee around the island.

Reaching up onto the top shelf of the display closest to the back wall of the store, he withdrew a tribal war mask made out in the design of some kind of vicious animal and began to examine it with curiosity. With a delicate touch, Marikk ran his fingers over the mask's surface and felt the smoothness of the wood from which it was carved, becoming so engrossed in it that when a bell chimed at the front door, signifying someone's entrance into the store, he jumped and nearly dropped the mask to the ground. He looked up towards the small foyer that marked the entranceway. Unable to make out the new visitor who had entered, as the room was poorly lit, he instead glanced momentarily at the elderly human shopkeeper at the front counter beside the door, seeing no reaction from him except a gentle rocking as he slept. From his own reaction to the entrance chime, he decided it was best to put the war mask back on its shelf and continue to walk around the shop.

As he continued on into the next row of items in the shoulder high case, a sweet perfume wafted through the air from the newcomer, still not completely visible but even this little clue peaked the Duro's interest. Though he continued to study the antiques he saw with interest, his eyes kept jumping up to the woman, more details becoming visible as he nonchalantly tried to make his way towards her, yet trying to avoid eye contact. Bit by bit, her appearance began to reveal itself to him. She was a relatively young woman from what he could tell, very fit in her physique but not overly muscular, simply well tone, and wearing a light blue sleeveless dress that ended about mid-thigh and long white boots that hugged her lower legs all the way up to her knees. Most curiously, though, through the shadows and the dust, he noticed that her skin was a light magenta color with dark violet locks upon her head that were cut short around her head, save for some length to about the middle of the back of her neck and what he thought might be rather prominent bangs, though he had yet to see her face. A most exciting turn of events… she was a Zeltron.

Marikk grinned widely at this turn of events, quickly checked over and straightened his clothes, doing the best he could to wipe off any grime despite his environment, and then sucked in his gut for an extra precaution, even though he was relatively well trim in that area, and swaggered his way over to where she stood. Slowly, he sidled up beside her, now only pretending to be looking at the antiques, and joined her in admiring a marble bust of a Snivvian poet.

"Well, that's quite a fine piece of work," he spoke at last with a smooth tone to his words as he let a lopsided smirk onto his face, eyes still on the sculpture. When at last, he did look over at her and caught his first glimpse of her face, his façade shattered and his jaw dropped, not for her appearance, though she was indeed quite beautiful, but because he actually knew her!

The young woman wrinkled her nose and shook her head slowly in reply. "Ehhh, it's not really that good. I've seen much better, but then again, you're not gonna get museum quality work in an old shop like this." Turning away from it, she nearly walked into Marikk and, as the two locked eyes, hers began to widen greatly as an ecstatic grin appeared upon her visage. Slowly at first, but then picking up speed and volume, she began to laugh with glee and enthusiastically wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly.

"Mare darling!" she exclaimed to the still stunned Duro.

It took a few seconds, but when the reality of the situation finally took grasp, he too joined in on her joyful bout of laughter, hugging her firmly ,with the same youthful enthusiasm, around the waist and took her out to arms length and looked the young Zeltron over before pulling her back in. "By the very stars, Naemi! It's you!"

"Indeed it is, you ol' lady-killer! It is so good to see you!" Resting a hand on her hip, she stepped back from him as the released from their embrace, but the same smile remained on her face. "What brings you to Vaynai?"

"My ship ran into some trouble and needed repairs, so we brought her here to get worked on."

"You still don't have that old Barloz-class freighter, do ya?"

Marikk shook his head vigorously, "No no no, traded it in, so to speak, for a Consular-class Cruiser."

"A diplomatic cruiser!? How in the world are you piloting that by yourself? I mean, I know you're a great pilot and all, but still…"

"Oh duh, you don't know about the…" he slapped his forehead and grimaced at his own stupidity for not using common sense. "Of course you wouldn't know. It's been about six years since we've seen each other. Anyway, roughly two and a half years ago, after having worked as a courier pilot for a year and a half ever since our last adventure together, I decided to start my own mercenary group, with the help of my cousin and some old contacts I made during my years in the underworld to try and bring in a bitmore money and start a new, more independent life for myself. With the credits from the sale of my old Barloz and an investment from my cousin, we were able to purchase the Consular cruiser and retrofit it for our needs, thus forming Marikk's Mercs. There's about eight of us in all, not counting an annoying repair droid owned by my chief mechanic."

"My my, sounds like someone's made out quite well for themselves."

Lowering his gaze, the Duro tried to keep a positive look on his face. "Eh, it has its good moments and its bad moments, but I have no regrets. I enjoy this life of mine, for all its peril." He paused and shook his head. "But, enough of my ramblings. What about you Naemi girl? What are you up to? What scheme brings you to Vaynai?"

"Scheme? Why I don't have the foggiest idea what you mean, Mare." A sly grin appeared at those words as she played coy with him as she had many a times before. "Can't a girl just visit a beautiful planet like Vaynai without an ulterior motive?"

"Normally, yes, but with a thief like you, dear Nae…" Marikk smirked knowingly. "I haven't known you for nearly ten years not to know you don't usually go somewhere without a purpose. There's something on this island you're after, and I doubt it's in this old shop."

"You know me all too well." Just then, a small rhythmic beep began to emanate from her wrist, more specifically her chronometer. Lifting it up, she looked at it intently for several seconds and then pressed down on a button on its side. "As much as I'm loving our little reunion, Mare, I gotta go, but let's not let this be the end. Meet me this evening around sundown on docking platform 420. We can catch up some more then and perhaps have a bite by the sea. Until then." As she turned to leave, she paused in step about half way around and blew him a quick kiss and a wink before heading off out of the shop.

Marikk just stood there, thinking… staring… still grinning and feeling his heart skip a beat in his chest. It had been far too long, but now Naemi Alto was back in his life. For better or for worse. Either way, he was still happy.