Above the Planet

*From the ancient, but well kept defensive fleet of Froz (purely imaginary for the purposes of telling stories) a reply comes to the distressed A-wing pilot.*

:: This is Comm Officer LIischtiw :: *A purr resonated through the comm with the voice.* :: Welcome to Froz, Master Crawford. We will be transmitting you clearance codes momentarily. :: *The comm shut off for a moment while the Comm Officer consulted with his superior.*

:: Master Crawford, we will be sending a ship to rendezvous with you at the edge of the belt, closest to your current location. The maze can be quite treacherous for those low on fuel, and we would not wish to add you to our boneyard collection today. The Freezer will contact you shortly with their ETA. ::

*The comm went dead for a moment, then buzzed to life again with a new voice.*

:: This is Captain Chunk of the Light Freighter The Freezer. We should be able to rendezvous at your position in 30-minutes. Do you think you have enough fuel to stand-by? Otherwise we might have to get a miner out towards the fringe to pick you up and get your fighter later. ::

*The young knight sighed with relief and then replied on his comlink.*

:: I'm going to have to use mimimal power at the moment. I actually made it through the field, I'm a ways past it but I'm running on fumes right now. I'll probably need someone to come and pick up my ship, but it's not as far out as the asteroid field. ::

*Jair explained as he turned down his power to near idle. He was far enough past the asteroids to where he could do this safely. He kept enough power to resume communications.*

*A rather ugly looking freighter drifted over from the main fleet. This was The Freezer. It was truly not much to look at, and seemed on the verge of falling apart. The main function of the ship was to take loads out to the miners in the asteroid field. There were many ships like The Freezer, because there were many stations mining for ore or gasses in the asteroid belt around Froz.

The cargo bay of The Freezer was large enough to house an A-wing. Since this one was low on fuel and probably maneuverability, The Feezer was going to tow it rather than stow it. It took several minutes to set everything up, but the time it had taken the crew to reach, Jair was much shorter than the estimated 30 minutes declared over the comm. Since he had weaved his way through the asteroid belt on fumes, the crew simple had to catch him before his life support systems cut out, or a random rock smashed into him. It was hard to predict which might come first in these situations.*

:: Welcome to Froz. You have the best view of our little market world from here. Won't be long. Already got you a skiff at the Docks too. :: *The voice on the comm was that of Captain Chunk. His was a gruff voice, but overall friendly to the visitor.*

*Jair heard the dull thud off the attachments being made and felt himself being towed towards the planet. Jair replied to the gruff voice on his comlink, his own voice sounding rather high-pitched and youthful for a male of his age.*

:: Thank you very much sir. I probably should have refueled at Nubia... ::

*"Probably...?" He thought to himself. Not that he was ungrateful for the hospitality here on Froz. Quite the contrary. He just felt bad for causing trouble for them here.*

:: ...but for some reason I thought I could make it further. I refueled before I departed Haruun Kal... I'm wondering if my fuel gauge is malfunctioning. I apologize for any trouble this may be causing for you all. In the meantime I suppose it's a good opportunity. I've never been to Froz before. It is a beautiful planet. ::

*Jair admitted as they flew towards the atmosphere of this small market world.*

:: Don't you worry about a thing. Other than this job, I'd be ferrying crew and supplies out into the belt for the mining operations going on. This is a damn sight more easy than navigating that asteroid field every day an' night. ::

*Truth be told, Chunk was waiting for this nice commission of contract work. A few extra credits would be wonderful for the holidays coming up. He smiled to himself and informed Jair that they would be landing soon.*

:: We will set down at the docks in just a few minutes. Your's is slip 19D. ::

*Te Prudii exits hyperspace just over Froz. Alex curses as he cuts himself shaving as the transition happens. The resulting dented bulkhead helped calm his nerves a bit. He always seemed to have one of two things. Good timing or bad timing. He sighed a bit and pulled the dent out of the bulkhead with the Force. It was obvious he had done it before because of his ease at doing so. Let's just say it had been a while since our wandering warrior had landed and was going a bit ship-crazy. That was why he had chosen to exit hyperspace at the next available planet.

Clean and dressed, Alex made his way to the bridge, where he sat in his chair and checked to see where in this cursed Universe he had ended up. He scrolled over the data on the planet and chuckled. By some cruel fate he ended up in a boring planet. No real readouts on anything, but he found himself wanting to land. And besides, the hyperdrive needed some time to cool down. He had been jumping from system to system for weeks now; it was near its breaking point if it wasn't given proper time between jumps. He opened up a channel but some kind of automated message played, blaring through his earpiece and causing general cursing and nasty words which blared out over an open frequency, which of course are conveniently blared over by static.....mostly.*

:: Gorramned...*static*......osik....*static*......mother-frakking....*static*...volume button...*static* ::

*Alex shut the frequency off and continued his cursing for a few more moment before he input landing coordinates and the ship descended. He hoped no one had been listening to his outburst, but with his luck they had heard that data-burst all the way to Corellia.*

*Boring! Boring indeed! The indignation of the planet could scarcely be felt as the tiny ship entered into the asteroid field surrounding the "pristine" homeworld of the multi-jointed Frozians. Mining facilities dotted the treacherous spacescape with freighters shuttling crew and supplies between planet and ore or gas station. Refineries were floating closer to the planet in the small space between orbit and death trap.

There also sat the Frozian defense fleet: one Nebula-B frigate and an ancient Golan defense gun. From here, most communication out of the system took place. While the Frozians were happy to trade, on their boring little world, they had also seen some pretty harry invasions. There was a collective shudder across the world as it thought on the Yuuzhan Vong. A profound silence wafted into space in honor of those lost.

Nevertheless, the communications officer, Tom, hailed the incoming craft.*

*The Frozian's voice greatly reflected Earth's Cockney accent, but was not a complete representation of the Frozian vernacular.* :: Welcome to Froz, by the by. The name's Tom, a Lieutenant of the Frozian Defense Fleet. We request to have you and your ship's name on record, in the case that you are responsible for great and terrible things, while on Froz, should you desire to land. Also a slip has been confirmed and made ready for you in Froz City if you would prefer to become indebted to our economy." ::

*It was a standard greeting to any who visited Froz. Standard at least when Tom was at the comm.*

*A rather battered old Skipray flashes into the system, quickly making its way to the standard holding pattern for craft waiting to be cleared by ATC to land. The ship's only passenger, crewman, and indeed living (if you define "living" as "being an inorganic chunk of crystal that can use the Force and is generally considered sentient") occupant was Eralam, and he was somewhat agitated.*

:: Froz ATC, this is the good ship Combustible, requesting permission to land. Erm, I don't mean to be a bother, but I'd really like that permission, because I'm gonna crash pretty soon if you don't clear me. ::

*Embarrassment was evident in the Shard's tone. See, the ship was in rough shape because he got distracted during a strafing run a few systems over, and got nailed by AAA fire from the Trandoshan slavers he was exterminating. He had limped the battered craft over to relative safety, but it would be horribly embarrassing to die from a lucky hit. He'd never live it down.*

*The bridge was tense, as it always was before one of Ayeniner's brilliant and ingenious ideas. This one had been planned for, well, less than twenty-four hours. And yet, it was perfect. Ayeniner thought so, and that was all that mattered. The bridge crew were not accustomed to having the head of the task force that made up the fleet on this particular ship. It wasn't the flagship, but Ayeniner had no quarrels about riding a different ship into combat if he could watch all events unfold as planned. He remarked silently that he was still referring to himself as masculine, and filed away a report that would flag in a week to get that little habit sorted. It was annoying now.

Ayeniner kept catching glimpses of the many species' faces aboard the Pendulum, where he was now. They were full of apprehension, and complete misunderstanding. Who wouldn't be confused... when led by an Astromech Droid? Ayeniner's internal clock kept track of the time left in hyperspace. It was a matter of seconds. His sensors began to register the increase in breathing and perspiration on the bridge, and he erased an impulse to squawk at someone. They were only organic, after all. Why did he not get a droid crew when he could have arranged for it? When he had the money, too. Now he was living off of his real flagship's hypermatter engine. It produced more than enough power, though he always felt unclean after a recharge. He'd have to get himself a proper droid maintenance suite with nanny droids tending to him day in and day out.

That would be the day.

One of the ensigns announced their imminent arrival to the spatial territory of the Frozian government, though Ayeniner already had this information and already decided what to do about it. In fact, he was already wheeling himself to the command hub. The time was now, the plan was perfect. All the rest of them had to do was play to his tune. And when Froz was pillaged and Ayeniner's coffers full, then they'd go onto the next target. Ayeniner always wanted a Wookie carpet.

With a flash of pseudo-motion and a sickening feeling that everyone but Ayeniner actually felt, the Pendulum dropped out of hyperspace. Froz occupied a good ninety-percent of the viewscreen, Ayeniner calculated, but had no time to marvel at the planet's makeup as the bridge crew began to enact out the plan perfectly. It was like a ballet, with an all-male cast. In uniform. Ahem. Luckily, Ayeniner, being an Astromech and all, was not attracted by such lusty thoughts, and could continue to concentrate on the plan.*

"Second phase," *he tweeted,* "is to wait. The sensor station had better be doing their job of finding out where the defence fleet is!"

*Everything hinged on the sensor station finding out where the 'enemy' combatants were.*

*Something always went wrong. In this case, that something was a sensor ping from a new arrival.*

"Balls."

*Eralam activated his own sensors to get a good idea of what, exactly, was out there. If it was friendly, there might be a chance to get some help, maybe a bit of coolant for the hyperdrive. If not, well, this could get ugly. The beat up old Skipray might not look like much, but it was still a warship. Despite the tiny size, many agencies classed it as a capital ship, and with good reason. If it weren't for the fact that it was pretty shot up, Eralam would gladly run it up against even the strongest of dreadnoughts. As it was now...well Sithspit. Here's hoping the newcomer was friendly.*

:: Howdy. You guys, uh, you wouldn't be willing to lend a hand to a ship in distress, would you? ::

"That was not part of the plan!" *Ayeniner squeaked in binary. He registered one of the bridge crew running the translation software aboard a terminal to see what he had squawked, but by then the little and brilliant astromech was wheeling himself closer the viewport - specially adapted so someone of his height could gaze upon the beyond.

Ayeniner's anger circuits were at boiling point. Out of the millions of simulations he run the plan through since its conception yesterday, how could he not account for a battered ship pretending to be friendly when, really, all it wanted to do was come aboard and DESTROY EVERYTHING?! Couldn't they see? Did they think Ayeniner didn't see? Well, he saw things. More things than most organics thought. And he saw right through this ruse.*

"Orders, sir?" *asked the lad at the communications console. A millisecond after he had finished the sentence, Ayeniner began his response.*

"Where is my plan of their defences?! I wanted them as soon as we dropped out of hyperspace, and I haven't got them yet! How am I meant to go forward with conquering the universe if all I have to depend on is you lot! GET ME THOSE PLANS!"

"Oh, and tractor the poor guy in. Not his fault his ship is damaged, is it?"

*Ayeniner's circuitry was definitely crossed. He couldn't even remember, seconds ago, that he had all but condemned the pilot to certain doom for supposedly thinking about trying to undo all that Ayeniner had planned. In a broken ship.

With a groan, the Pendulum activated its tractor beams and began to pull the fighter in. No comm response was made, and Ayeniner wheeled himself to the nearest hovercar.*

"I want to greet our new guest in person," *was all he chimed.*

*Eralam didn't get a reply back on the radio. That bothered him. And then his ship began to move towards the new vessel. That was...interesting. Not the sort of thing that one looks forward to if they find themselves damaged and pretty much dependent upon the kindness of strangers. Still, he wasn't being blown up, and his damaged hyperdrive wasn't threatening to render him down to his constituent atoms quite yet, so things could be worse.*

"Well, I guess I better get ready to meet my new hosts."

*The ancient Shard figured this could go one of two ways. One, they were friendly and he could make it out of here with a full (and patched) coolant tank and a somewhat lighter bank account. Two, they could be determined to kill him in person. While that might be amusing for a little while, eventually he'd have to kill the lot of them. Since he wasn't likely to accomplish this task with his charming good looks, he strapped on his pistol belt. On his right hip was the LeMat, on the left, in a crossdraw holster, was the Colt. Also on his belt was his lightsaber. Eralam figured that his weaponry looked fancy enough to look like some sort of formal uniform wear, which should be nicely unoffensive in this part of the galaxy. For good measure, he put on his best cloak, a great billowing thing made of the blackest cloth available on the open market. It nicely complemented his robotic features. And, as a bonus, it was proofed against most forms of small arms fire.*

*By the time Ayeniner arrived at the gaping, mammoth hanger that was the central 'hull' of the triangular bulk cruiser, the damaged ship had already been docked. Ayeniner, having subroutines to deal with such things as 'quarantining' and 'new life-form dangers', actually did nothing by those protocols. He was a droid, and any organic virus would no doubt just cleanse the weak from the Pendulum's crew. Boy, he missed being on his own flagship, waiting way beyond the system. There, the crew were competent. Here, the crew were.. well... organic. Meaty. Urgh.

Ayeniner had no modifications to his person. in fact, he just looked like a regular white-and-yellow artwo unit, safe that he was an evil mastermind. There, flanked by two of the bulk-cruiser's security officers (the only 'marines' that Ayeniner had were aboard the important flagship), he awaited the ship - now identified as a blastboat - to spit out whatever it had inside.

Hopefully, whatever was inside was rich.*

*As the boarding ramp lowered, Eralam strode down it purposefully. His cloak was indeed billowing nicely in the crisp air of the hangar, and his metal feet clanged impressively against the ramp. He got about halfway down it when he noticed the astromech, flanked by what appeared to be two guards. Well then. He remembered Goran Starkiller too well to overlook the droid, as it was obviously standing in the position reserved for the ship's captain or whatever important person had been selected to greet the guest. That crafty rodder Starkiller had taught him never, ever underestimate an astromech droid and never, ever assume that one was harmless. Still, no need for alarm yet.

Eralam tweedled a greeting in the binary most commonly used among such units.*

"Salutations. Am I to take it that this is your ship?"

*Ayeniner had a small circuit spasm as a cloaked figure walked down the hissing and foaming ramp. He hated cloaks, and yet, he had to make light of the situation. Being a crazy astromech droid, he used his external speakers to play a famous piece used for the most dangerous Dark Lord of all time - Darth Vadar. The Imperial March blasted triumphantly throughout the large hanger and echoed out into nothingness. Ayeniner supressed a bluster of code which would have been a laugh.

Then, this new thing spoke in binary, and that had Ayeniner thinking for a good few seconds. All sorts of possibilities raked through his droid brain, and nearly ninety-nine percent of them ended with astro-scrap strewn about the Pendulum.

Finally, he decided to let future take its course, and replied.*

"Salutations to you, non-organic! This is the Pendulum, though not specifically my ship. She serves in my attacking fleet and - "

*There was a cough from behind. One of the security officers trying to tell his droid master that he had said too much already.*

"Yeh. She's my ship. I'd say that you're welcome aboard, but we're busy with... stuff. How about this; I offer to repair your ship and you tell no-one that the great and illustrious Ayeniner is back, and is attacking Froz and plans on moving to enslave some Wookies afterwards!"

*The two guards erupted in coughing fits behind him.*

*Eralam would have cocked an eyebrow as the music played throughout the hangar if he had an eyebrow to cock. Still, it happened to be one of his favorite pieces of music, so he let it pass without comment.*

"I have a counteroffer. You repair my ship and I pay you handsomely for it. In return, you lay off Froz for and the wookiees and I won't have to turn this rather lovely ship inside out."

*If there was one thing Eralam could not abide, it was a slaver. In his pre-Whill days, he had sojourned across the galaxy. Part of that time was spent with the Aing-Tii, who were notorious for their anti-slavery sentiments. Eralam found that he rather agreed with them on that fact. The only thing that stopped him from trying to convert the little droid to a pile of smoking scrap on the spot was the fact that it was clearly having some...issues. A remote diagnostic program that the Shard used to keep his ship in the air revealed several abnormalities in the processing center.

Maybe the crazy little thing could be convinced to lay off and go for more tasteful targets.*

"Counteroffer received." *Ayeniner chirped in low-pitched binary. What was he to do? Of course, he could squash this poor excuse for scrap in an instant - there wasn't another astromech droid like Ayeniner out there in the galaxy - but did he really want to? All that money sounded great. And he never had the chance to converse with a computer of a blast-boat before. Perhaps he would be randy and lusty?

That made the decision for him. He could kill this... thing... and raid the ship afterwards. Then, of course, to attacking the Frozians!*

"Counteroffer rejected. ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

*Ayeniner squawked and squeaked as he launched energy in the form of blue-white electricity from one of his handy tools that popped out of his head. The two guards beside him drew their blaster pistols and opened fire.*

"Watch the ship! Don't damage that blastboat! Wait, never mind, it's scrap anyway. JUST SHOOT HIM!"

*A word to the wise: using energy attacks against Eralam is, on every level, a bad idea. So prodigious was his skill at Absorb that he pretty much had no other skills aside from a pretty hefty helping of TK. As things stood now, electrical attacks were useless on pretty much any level. The guards could be firing at him with E-webs and he still wouldn't give a flying kriff. Most days, the Shard wouldn't get out of bed for anything less than a Z-6 rotary blaster cannon.

So the guards were shooting and the astromech was sparking and all Eralam really felt like doing was booting the little droid in whatever passed for its face. It was really, really tempting. Instead, he just crossed his arms and began tapping his foot from boredom.*

"You done yet?"

*It must have been nine whole seconds before Ayeniner realised that his target was still standing. That, and he wasn't a melting lump of scrap. He stopped his electrical attack, though the two guardsmen fanned out to either side and continued to shoot. Ayeniner looked around with his revolving head, but could find nothing of use.

Not to worry. He had another trick up his sleeve.

He shot out another tool, after retracting the electrical weapon back into his head. This new tool came straight out of his tube-like body, and shot oil.

He shot for all he was worth.*

"DIE!"

*The old oil attack. A classic staple in any cheeky astromech's arsenal. Under the right circumstances, it could be quite dangerous, as oil tends to burst into flame when exposed to high heat. Fortunately, Eralam was familiar with cheeky astromechs. Hell, he was one on occasion.

So what did he do? As soon as the tube extended, the Shard expended just a bit of his Absorbed energy to put up a tiny wall in front of the aperture through which the oil would be launched. Invisible and undetectable to any that aren't familiar with the Force, it would be just enough to cause the shower of lubricant to spray back over the poor little droid that was squirting it. It was almost funny.*

"Seriously man, this is getting old."