"It's good to have you back, Master," Ryn said tearfully as she clung to Skira. "I kept your armor clean and ready for you, and the ship, and I even made R5 stay away from the other droids!"
Skira let out a slow breath and rubbed her head between the lekku, which twitched and thrashed with dozens of emotions. He'd spent the rest of his time in the brig peacefully, Ryn bringing him food in the morning, Raana in the evening. Ordo, Shada, and Mrssk had all taken the time to visit him. The Trandoshan had not cared about the technicalities of giving prisoner's booze, and the pair of them had shared a jug of black ale together.
Now, they were in orbit over Sweldan and Captain Nub wanted him gone. The crew of the Dauntless had given him a wide berth as he'd been escorted back to the Bes'bev.
"Good girl, Ryn, I'm proud of you," he said. The twi'lek beamed as bright as a star as she let go. "Now go get the ship's pre-flight ready while I get dressed."
Kute were meant for long term wear, but there was only so much you could ask of even high tech garments. With a sigh of relief, he stripped out of it and stepped into the fresher station. Part of him couldn't wait to hit planet side and take a real bath with water. Sonic cleaning only got you so far.
Outside, the flight deck was in the steady, controlled panic that came with mass disembarkation. The Galactic University team consisted of fifty beings, their equipment, and any supplies they felt would not be readily available on site. While the trip from Sweldan and the capital planet of Dolstan was around three days on a class one hyperdrive, most merchant and cargo vessels that served the League were Class 4 or even Class 5, meaning the trip could be five times as long in some cases. Everything was being loaded on a Sentinel-class landing shuttle, which was nearly the same size as the Akalenedat.
The fresher door opened and Raana smirked as she gave him a look over.
"I've heard prison changes a man," she said, leaning against bulkhead and crossing her arms under her breasts. She was back in her armor, the black beskar in stark contrast to the white of her kute.
"So they say," Skira said, reaching for his razor and letting it work on the beard growth that had sprouted during his stay in the brig.
"That mean you a changed man?" she asked, her voice soft and low.
Skira paused. Hope was dangerous. He couldn't control it. Part of him wanted to run, but Mando'ad didn't run. He brought his free hand up to grasp hers.
"If I'm changed," he said softly, "it wasn't because of prison."
Raana nodded, accepting his words.
"We made sure the Alliance mir'osik didn't touch your ship," she said, squeezing his hand for a moment.
"Thanks," he said, softly.
"Tion'ad hukaat'kama?" she asked, gripping him by the head and pressing her forehead against his.
"Gar," he said. She smiled slightly and nodded.
"Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it," She said.
"Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it," he replied.
"Good," she said, giving him a slight kiss before drawing back. "I have to go get the Jai'galaar up and going. See you on the ground."
"See you there," he replied, watching her go.
He finished cleaning up, then dressed in a fresh kute and put his armor on. The familiar weight wrapped around him, bringing with it certainty about himself and the galaxy around him. A mando was naked without his armor. It was more his flesh and face than his own organic body. A mando in beskargam looked like his brothers and sisters, his fathers and mothers, his children. Race, sex, age, these things faded, till only the Mando'ad remained.
Ryn gave him a rather sad smile as he entered the cockpit.
"She will be very good for you, Master," the Twi'lek said softly. She was struggling to contain her emotions, but lekku were harder to restrain than tears or facial expressions.
He walked over to her and put his hand firmly on her head.
"She isn't going to replace you, Ryn," he said firmly. "I won't throw you away for anyone either. You have a place with me so long as you desire it."
"You promise?" she asked, looking up at him with doe like eyes. He nodded. She clung to his waist for a moment. "Thank you, Master. I promise I will be the best girl for you. I swear it."
"Okay," he said, looking out the observation ports. The Akalenedat was already lifting off, and he could see the Jai'galaar's engines warming up. Deck crews were waving glowing batons to guide the two ships. The GU shuttle would depart next, with him coming up last as the rearguard. The Bes'bev, despite being the smallest of the ships, technically counted as a capital ship in its own right, thanks to its destructive potential, despite having the maneuverability of a starfighter. "Well, best girls help their Master's fly the ship."
"Yes, sir," she said, blushing and saluting, before turning back to her console. R5 handled navigation, and he managed flight and weapons, but which left Ryn with comms and the engines. "Right away, sir."
"Dauntless control, this is Bes'bev," Ryn said as he sat down, pulled on his helmet, and powered up the engines. There was a slight shudder as the ship lifted off the deck and retracted its landing gear. "We are standing by for launch permission."
"Rodger, Bes'bev, stand by," a feminine voice answered over the comm. Outside, the Akalenedat broke through the magnetic shielding and fell away from the Dauntless. Moments later, the Jai'galaar followed suit.
"Dauntless Command, this is Shuttle Tiberian," a fresh voice broke over the radio. "We're having some slight issues. One of our passengers is insisting on talking to Captain Nub."
"Stand by," Command ordered.
Outside, the Akalenedat and Jai'galaar rose back into view.
"Ryn," Skira ordered, "get me a private line to the Akal and Jai, but stay on the mainline yourself."
"Yes, sir," the Twi'lek replied, pressing a set of buttons on her console. R5 made a rude sounding blyat and she shushed him.
"What's the hold up?" Shada asked. "Any idea?"
Skira looked out the view ports and scowled under his helmet. All the cargo looked to be loaded, the shuttle was sealed up.
"Everything looks green up here," he said, sitting back in his chair. "If there's a problem, it's not obvious to me."
Looking through the view port of the shuttle, he saw Professor Meld'an on the bridge with the shuttle crew. None of them were looking happy. They were even less happy when the crew cleared out of the bridge.
"That's odd," he muttered.
"What?" Raana asked.
"Meld'an just cleared the shuttle's bridge." He said. "Ryn, can you hear what they're saying?"
"It's on a private channel, sir," Ryn answered sadly. "I could try and hack it if you want."
"No, you're not ready for that and I don't want more trouble than we've already got." Skira said.
"Maybe he wanted to finally lay into the captain about the food," Ordo said with a laugh. "That man was never happy with a single one of those state dinners we had to go through. I thought about joining you the brig to be honest. At least you got good home cooking, Skira."
"Maybe," Skira said slowly.
Whatever Meld'an wanted to say, it didn't take long to say it. He left the bridge and the crew returned, looking confused and disgruntled.
"Dauntless Command, sorry for the delay, we are ready to depart now." the shuttle crew said over the comm.
"Shuttle Tiberian, you are clear to launch." Command replied. Smoothly, the shuttle lifted off the decks and eased itself out into the void of space, the Jai'galaar and Akalenedat slipping to each side to let it through, before taking up position in front of and above respectively.
"Bes'bev, you are clear for launch."
"Thank you command." Skira said, edging the skipray forwards. "Happy hunting out there."
"You too," Command replied.
As soon as he was clear, the capital ship powered up its engines and began to break orbit even as they began their decent. Skira found it a bit odd, he figured the Dauntless would remain in orbit till they were landed. Then again, all their ships were equipped with hyperdrives, his being the worst among them, so perhaps Nub merely wanted to get back on track as soon as possible. It was a three day trip to begin his patrols.
The Dauntless warped into hyperspace as they broke atmosphere. He settle back, throwing the sensors onto an active scan and letting the Akal lead the way. No point hiding, the local aero-space traffic control already knew they were coming, and any pirate worth their spice was either hacked in, had a mole, or was at least listening in to the comm traffic.
Their destination was a smaller city on the edge of the settlement cluster that was Sweldan's colony, called Torgpo. From there, they would dock and travel to the temple sight, which was supposed to be at least two days by landspeeder.
"Torgpo Control, this is Shuttle Tiberian, requesting landing zones for four craft."
"Greetings Tiberian, we've been expecting you. Governor Marqiz is waiting for you with a greeting party. Please follow the follow coordinates."
"Roger."
The Tiberian banked slightly and sped up its decent, followed by the Akal. The Jai'galaar lifted up slightly making a slow orbit around the massive dome's perimeter. Skira kept the Bes'bev higher up on the dome, making his own counter clockwise perimeter. When the first two ships had settled, Raana took hers in and landed as Ordo, Shada, and Mrssk exited their. All three were in full rig. The Governor and his security team looked a bit shocked, and their little welcoming party tittered nervously. Especially when the Bes'bev hovered over everyone, tail foil in attack position, and clearly ready to open fire.
Professors Meld'an and Kiro came down the ramp of the Tiberian, the former looking as stuffy as ever, the latter at least seeming to be friendly in his fishbowl helmet.
"Skira, see anything?" Ordo asked over their comms.
He checked his sensors.
"All clear," he replied.
"Alright, bring her down," Ordo said. "I think the locals got the message."
"Roger," Skira said. Flicking a switch, he activated landing mode and brought his ship down beside Raana's. She was already exiting, a DC-15x sniper rifle slung over her back, and a matching DC-15 carbine in her arms.
"Alright," he said, shutting everything down except the security and comm system. "Let's get our kit and move out. Standard procedure and cover, so don't forget your mechanic's kit and papers."
"Yes, sir," Ryn said, getting up and moving into the ship.
Skira followed her and pulled up the deck plate at the rear of their cabin, exposing a ladder into the depths of the ship. Originally used to house the proton torpedoes and concussion missiles, his model had swapped out the torpedo launcher for a tractor beam, and he'd used the resulting space to create a small holding cell, as well as storage locker for his non-perishable supplies. Mostly weapons, but there was some food and drink items.
He pulled out two crates, one containing a small power and plasma generator he could use to reload his energy weapons. The second contained his slug thrower kit, as well as back up components for the electronic parts of his armor. Grunting, he lifted them up into the main compartment.
"Do we need to bring any food with us, Master?" Ryn asked, sticking her head into the hold, lekku hanging down like a pair of pigtails.
"If you want some of your treats, bring them," Skira said. "Otherwise, the university or the Du'kals will be providing."
"Okay," she said, vanishing.
After a moment's thought, Skira grabbed a third case, which contained a second DC-17m and its peripherals. If something happened to his main weapon, he wanted a backup just in case. He followed that with a fourth, packed with explosives of various kinds. Those weren't his preferred tools, but it never hurt to be prepared.
Shoving them up on deck, he climbed up and replaced the deck plate. Ryn was packing her clothes into a small duffle bag, dressed in a form fitting environmental suit that fit her like a second skin, a large, clear helmet on the bunk beside her. A second bag also lay on the bunk.
"I put your extra kute in the bag, Master, along with a few casual clothes in case you find the need," she said, lekku twitching with pride. "Your kama is in there as well."
"Thank you, Ryn," he said. "I'm going to see if I can secure us a ride and space to haul this."
"Okay," she said, giving him a smile. "I'll start unloading."
"Just be careful with the blue crate," he said, stepping out of cabin.
"Yes sir, explosives, I'll be careful and not tell anyone." She called after him.
Raana had her own stack of crates by the hatch on her ship and was looking towards the Akal. He followed her gaze and let out a jealous grunt as Ordo and Shada backed out a pair of 64-Y Swift 3 Repulsor Sleds. The hover bikes were about 4 meters long, with absolutely huge engines on the back, and what looked like both a blaster cannon and net gun.
Mrssk came after them with what looked like a MandalMotors SkyTruck, the Trandoshan's happiness behind the wheel obvious even in full kit.
"Put your kit in the jeep," Ordo's voice came over the comm as he caught Raana and Skira looking over at them. "It seems the academics overestimated what the locals had, or the locals lied."
Skira turned his attention over towards the Governor and their clients. About seven 93-B enclosed hovercraft sat on the landing deck. Each looked like it could fit seven people, and maybe a couple tons of cargo. Maybe they could fit everyone on, but the GU had filled the Tiberian's 80 metric ton hold nearly to capacity with the basic supplies they needed to essentially build a self sustaining colony on site. Not a single piece of gear could be left behind.
Professor Meld'an was clearly furious, and Kiro was doing his best to try and maintain some manner of peace. Clearly, someone was going to have to step in, or else the job was going to implode before it even started, judging by the faces of the Governor and the Meld'an.
Fortunately, Mando'ad were made of sense.
"Get your kit loaded on the truck," Ordo said. "I'll handle this."
Skira shrugged and turned back to the Bes'bev and started helping Ryn unload their kit onto the landing pad as Mrssk helped Raana load hers on to his skytruck. By the time they'd finished and locked up, leaving a very pissed R5 behind, Mrssk had brought it over to them. It was a blocky thing, capable of carrying four passengers and 200 kg of cargo. More than enough for their needs. Skira loaded up while Ryn climbed in the back seat with Raana, leaving shotgun for him. Whatever expression the Togruta had at that was lost behind her helmet.
Sealing up the back, Skira climbed in and gave Mrssk a nod before closing the personal hatch. Ordo seemed to have regained some manner of order, though neither of the feuding parties looked particularly happy about it.
"What's the plan, Vod," Mrssk hissed over the comm.
"We're gonna have to make several trips." Ordo replied. "First round, Professor Meld'an is taking the engineering team, droids, and housing kit, along with enough food and water to last you guys a couple weeks, plus some of the power and recycling plants. That way they can start getting things set up. The transports we got only carry about 14 metric tons total.
Skira did some quick math in his head. At least thirteen trips.
"How long is it to the site with these things?" he asked.
"Three days there, three days back," Ordo replied. "The Governor is going to try and get us some larger transports. They've got three haulers that can carry forty or fifty tons each, but right now they're tied up hauling in the mineral harvests that are pretty much the entire economy around here, same as every other transport. They don't get the minerals out, they don't get the food in, and everyone starves to death."
"No way to just take the ships?" Raana asked.
"Tunnels are too small," Ordo said. "I doubt even the Bes'bev could fit down them."
"I think our pirate concerns just went up," Raana muttered.
"Very likely," Ordo said. "That's why I'm sending you three first. We're starting with the most important thing, shelter. We lose that, entire game is over. After that, two of you can stay on site, one of you can escort the transports back, and from there we'll do a cycle using the bikes to pull guard duty on the convoys."
"Never should have let the civvies plan this out," Mrssk grumbled.
"You're not wrong," Ordo said.
The four of them climbed out of the truck. If they were going to spend three days stuck in it with each other, and then find themselves constantly on the road, they wanted to stretch their legs as much as possible.
The spaceport contained several large ships, a couple of which were being loaded with largely unprocessed ore. Given the desolate nature of Sweldan, he supposed they lacked the resources to refine them on site. No doubt, that helped keep the local population poor and desperate.
"Sixteen mega tons and what do you get," he half sang under his breath. "Another day older and deeper in debt."
Ryn looked depressed. Raana bowed her head. Mrssk shook his.
"No way to live," the Trandoshan muttered.
"Someone's gotta do it," Skira said. "Galaxy runs on shit jobs, and there will always be more people than droids to do them, and it'll be cheaper too."
"And people will do anything to get out of it," Raana said.
"Which give people like us work," Ordo chimed in over the comm. "Just the way life is."
"So stay sharp out there," Shada added, "and we can all go home."