The Voyage

Trace came back up from the lower level of the Saucer, coming right in between Turgen and B3N. Her eyes shined with wonder at the sight of the hyper-space tunnel of light, she never got tired of the sight.

"So, all set for course?" She asked Ben as she turned towards him.

"We should be at destination in eight hours" answered the droid as a clock appeared on his digital face screen.

Turgen rose from his pilot's seat, stretching himself in the same action. Now that the route was punched in, there was no need for a driver. He walked towards the hologram console, thoughtful.

The female mechanic looked at her boss, wondering what he was thinking about. The chef was known for being fairly carefree usually. The holo-call from Breneck did come off as unusual, what did he want with the client? She knew Turgen and the Cartel leader came a long way. The unorthodox cook could easily be the right hand man of the Crime Lord if he didn't focus so much on his culinary aspirations. She didn't know where the client came into all this, but it seemed both men were acquainted with him. A Porlask being an especially dangerous request target, she knew he had lots of credits to spend. Turgen didn't shy away from bumping his prices when the risk was high. She approached her captain, stopping a few inches behind him.

"What do you think Breneck wants with Mr. Hemtosh?" She asked, curious.

"Hard to say... Hemtosh used to be a powerful ally for the Cartel. But the richer he gets, the bigger target he has on his back. Understandably, he's distanced himself from Outlaw business lately. With the Federation becoming more powerful every day, Breneck is probably concerned..." Deducted Turgen.

"So he just wants to ask for his support?" Asked Trace, again.

"More like remind him of his allegiance, I wouldn't be surprised if he blackmails him into it..."

"That's cold..."

"It's the Outlaw life..." Explained Turgen as he turned around to face the little genius. "None of us are truly free, there's always a fine print somewhere, even for criminals."

The door to the cafeteria opened itself, letting Mirto onto the bridge. His tank top was wet from the water of the sink. Cleaning dishes wasn't the strong suit of the old veteran...

"Good thing I never wear pants! I'd be really embarrassed right now!" He jokingly chuckled.

Trace examined the cybernetic half of the weapons expert, it was definitely some impressive engineering, top of the line parts.

"Do you ever miss having real legs?" Asked the young mechanic, being one of the only members of the crew not missing a piece of herself.

She had been with the crew for a while, Turgen having found her fairly young. She almost looked at the chef like a father figure. He only let her come out on missions recently though. She used to stay behind at the Hole for a while and only work from the hangar. But, eventually, Turgen had no choice but to bring her along, or she would never shut up about it when he was back from a contract. She knew an on-deck mechanic was something every crew benefited from greatly and, in a pinch, she could at least tell herself she could be useful in a dire situation requiring quick repairs. Plus, she'd be damned if she'd let anything happen to all the work she put into the Flying Saucer!

"Nha, my old legs would probably be unable to support me at my age, these ones never get tired!" Said Mirto with a wink of the eye.

"And It's not like your "third leg" would be useful, being an old geezer!" Turgen said with a loud laugh.

"You haven't looked at my special upgrades box! I might not feel a damn thing, but this old man can still make a lady squirm!" Answered back the veteran, nudging the chef on the shoulder with his elbow.

"Ew..." Shriveled Trace.

Both men started laughing out loud. The two of them would never look at Trace that way. For one, she was more of a daughter, for the other a niece, but they did enjoy making her uncomfortable when they could.

"All right, gonna go set up gear for the mission. You wanna come help Turg?" Asked Mirto as he made his way to the ladder leading the his section of the ship.

"Sure, might as well check what we wanna bring..." Answered the chef as he followed closely behind. "Trace, stay with Ben and hit the intercom if anything comes up."

"Aye aye, Captain!" She proudly said, saluting like a little soldier.

The upper level of the ship was Mirto's little treasure trove. From here he had his console, controlling the various weapons of the ship as well as its defenses. He also had racks full of guns and gadgets, some of them he took with him when he left his contractor days behind. There were even some power suits, for more hostile environments. He walked up to a rack of swords and knives, pondering which one he would take for the mission.

"I know you mentioned the heated blade, but what about the chain sword? If that thing bites into one of those tentacles, it'll practically drag itself right through" offered the old man as an option.

"At minus fifty, the chain will probably freeze in place by the time we need it though..." Commented Turgen.

"Heated blade it is then. What about guns? We taking any?"

"Give Trace a sub-machine gun, something simple, I don't want her getting in close..."

Mirto walked up to another weapon rack, taking out a small compact automatic.

"The mini E-Thompson should be good for her, barely kicks, easily controllable recoil and uses energy rounds. Jamming should be a non-issue. All she has to watch is overheating" explained the old man as he grabbed the model.

"Perfect, I'll take the charged concussion shotgun. The Impact should keep the monster at bay without creating a big hole in the meat" decided Turgen for his weapon of choice.

"Two heat-blades for me and a long range laser rifle. Who knows, maybe we can snipe the damn thing" added Mirto with his usual gold toothed smile.

"Wouldn't that be convenient..." chuckled the chef, all too familiar with plans never going accordingly.

"We taking suits for this mission?" Asked the veteran.

"Our usual winter wear should be enough, but let's bring a shield grenade if we need to block out a storm and an ever-burner for heat."

"Sounds like a plan! I'll set it all up" confirmed Mirto.

Turgen nodded, patting his old friend on the shoulder and leaving him to his own devices, going back down to the bridge. B3N and Trace were gathered around the hologram console, looking at the planet they'd be landing on. They were analyzing what the current charts had on Thorboria, which wasn't much...

"Any good info?" Asked the crew leader as he approached them.

"Surface scans are inconclusive, we will probably need to start with a planetary sweep on arrival" Answered B3N with a question mark as his chosen expression.

"We've got plenty of time. Check system info for a place to rest at, we can send some probes to do that while we wait. Trace, start working on some Federation proof ship ID, as well as for the crew. Also make sure Mirto and I's photos on our current records are still false, I don't want to bring the Feds straight back to Hemtosh, that would be bad business..." Ordered Turgen.

The two crew members nodded at their captain. B3N started looking at system maps, while Trace went back downstairs to her workshop to work on the IDs. Meanwhile, the chef went back to his Pilot seat, closing his eyes to rest a bit during the voyage...