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Post by The Conman on Jul 6, 2015 22:28:55 GMT -5
Donnie blew a rasberry at Bax over his remark about her Basic. So far as she could tell, Ervi could understand her well enough, and the woman wanted to include everybody in the conversations. She also did realize that Ervi had to translate when she spoke Basic, and Bax had to translate when she spoke Huttese, so it was a bit of a no-win for her.
No sooner had she made her rude sound in his general direction than the ramp had come down and he'd started up it, Ervi tearing inside and removing her top, revealing, much to Donnie's disappointment, a sports bra. The Twi'lek had been expecting something a bit "racier" from the Mirilan, for some reason. After thinking about it for a second, it was pretty obvious to her that it was more due to hope than anything else, in reality.
Doneeda let out a chuckle as Ervi flopped onto the floor and absorbed the cold from the metal deck, though it took a few seconds for her to catch up after Bax and Ervi had headed in so quickly. Once the woman was fully up the ramp, two things became apparent. One, was that it was suddenly very cold. Be it the shock of going from the comfortable warmth of Socorro to the metallic cold of an Airconditioned spaceship, or the fact it was actually cold, she wasn't sure. But the Twi'lek felt goosebumps sprout up across her body and crossed her arms almost instinctively. Two, was that the ship was something of a mess, green skinned women plastered to the deck plating notwithstanding. Donnie noted the sound of a shower going through the various background noises coming from various junk on the ship.
Not just something of a mess, but akin to the effect a strong tornado would have on a badly maintained ship wrecking yard. The woman couldn't figure out where the junk ended and the ship began...if there was a difference. Donnie wasn't surprised the man who owned the vessel had a large quantity of self sealing stembolts, she thought, carefully stepping around various bits and pieces, some of them rusted, some bent, some obviously broken, all the while avoiding stepping on Ervi. After a few seconds, she made it to the couch a few feet from the Mirilan, and moved a bit of what looked to be a decades old speeder off of the cushon, and saw there was a blanket draped over the back, and snatched it up.
The Amazonian Twi'lek wrapped the blanket ( which smelled vaguely of wet wookie ) around her back and sat down on the couch, pulling her lekku forward onto her chest and wrapping the blanket up over her head, closing it at the front, only her legs sticking out the bottom and her face visible at the top.
Donnie was about to speak, as Bax returned, and tossed her an earpiece....for a human. She'd just managed to get the blanket open enough to catch it and realize it wouldn't work on her, another ear piece sailing through the air catching her eye, just before it landed squarely in Ervi's clevage.
Hehehe...Nothin' but net man.
Donnie remarked in Huttese, eyeing the weapons cabinet from where she sat, not wanting to move, the risk of losing her heat and a tragic trip and fall accident to her mind being simply too great. The woman fished around below the blanket and pulled out her pistol, a DL-18, and held it up.
I can use this, pretty well....
She remarked, putting it back in it's holster on her right leg, then opening up the blanket, losing her heat layer and exposing her chest and endowments.
...aaand these. Gimmie 20 minutes at the shops and a chance to use your bathroom to change and they'll let me in the front frakkin' door.
Donnie said, closing the blanket back around herself agan with a snerk, then switching to Basic to include Ervi in her shennagains.
Lemie dake 'er
Donnie said, gesturing to Ervi by tilting her head.
An' we' dree ca'jus wal'in, dey be welcomin' us.
Donnie continued, somewhat jokingly. She figured if all it took to get inside was some skin, she'd risk it, her people needed those stembolts. A few hours of showing off what the goddess gave her to potentially save lives wasn't really a hard decision, and Ervi's dignity was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Jul 6, 2015 23:02:32 GMT -5
Ervisa had plenty of time to stay there cooling down while Bax showered, which was thankful. The Mirialan woman had, by the time Bax emerged, righted herself, still sprawled on the floor, but now propped vertical against a bulkhead. One knee was raised, and the other leg straight, resulting in a pose that looked vaguely out of some kind of punk album cover.
As she had more time to observe the interior, she observed that Bax was a pack rat. Not in negative terms, but just in honest evaluation. It looked like there were bits and pieces of everything, a power relay from something Imperial, most of a turret from an old LAAT/i gunship disassembled. Whether he kept everything he found or just the good stuff, she really couldn't guess.
Of course when he went into planning mode, and tossed an earpiece with expert aim into her cleavage, she was attentive to that. To the extent she forgot about the settings. She fished the earpiece out of her cleavage, which wasn't hard given the fact the girls weren't particularly big, and started inserting it into her right ear.
The crack about gravball prompted a small chuckle, and Ervisa rose to her feet to check out that weapons locker.
As it happened, Bax had quite the selection in there. Which suited her fine, choices would take her mind off whatever Huttese conversation the other two were having. The cabinet was well-stocked for sure, and that was good. Working as a merc had taught Ervi one major lesson, your pistol was only a tool that let yo fight your way to a bigger gun.
There was a row of DC-15s at the bottom, but Ervisa ignored them. No stock, less accurate, no point. Instead her eyes darted straight to the old school choice, a DC-15A in the corner. Long bastard, a bit heavy too, but it was accurate. That was the goal. Unless he had a DP-23, something like the S's but with a good stock... But there was no such luck. Ervisa simply took the A model, verifying it was loaded properly and fully charged.
The green-skinned woman looked back just in time to hear Doneeda asking Bax if she could take her. That couldn't go without quip, so she gave a dazzlingly white smile.
"Yeah, you could at least buy a girl dinner first, you two sex fiends. Ever hear of a little thing called romance?"
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Mr. Slender
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Post by Mr. Slender on Jul 7, 2015 23:16:00 GMT -5
Bax had to let out a little sign at Donnie turning down his offer of weapons. Not because he felt rejected, but because that DL-18 wasn't gonna scare anybody, let alone win a firefight.
He literally would've been more frightened being threatened with her clevage than with that underpowered blaster.
"Sorry, but no. Let's just stick to the plan. I don't want you two to get caught up with the hurts." The junker answered, while moving to the cabinet and removing a bandolier of frag grenades.
"When we get back though, you can take Ervi with you to shop for whatever sexy stuff you had in mind. Might help with the bargaining process for the stembolts, you never know~"
Bax shut the locker behind him with a kick after slinging a holster over a shoulder and carrying a DC-15S in each hand.
"Romance? Who has time for romance? We all have places to go and/of things to do, isn't it just easier to work out your carnal desires with someone you find mutually attractive, when the moment cones up?" Bax explained in a deadpan, yet suggestive, manner to his Ervi. Donnie was on the menu for sure, but he wouldn't mind eating something green later either.
"Here." The Junker exclaimed before tossing the holstered DL-44 at his Twi'lek on the couch. "Consider that a gift, people will take you more serious you pull that on them."
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Post by The Conman on Jul 7, 2015 23:40:54 GMT -5
Donnie looked at the DL-44 and sighed. She'd had her '18 since she was a teenager, and practised with it so much it was practically an extension of her hand. She knew it wasn't as intimidating as the DL-44, nor as powerful, but it was what she was used to. The '44 felt ungainly and heavy, like some kind of large blunt hand cannon. The reality was that Donnie didn't "pull" her blaster unless she intended to use it to end some poor sod's life. Intimidation had nothing to do with it, she could kill somebody more reliably with the pistol she'd spent nearly two decades practising with.
The Twi'lek put the blaster with it's holster down on the couch beside her, deciding to just gloss over Bax's incorrect assumption this was her first rodeo. Thought a Pilot by trade, Donnie'd been on boarding parties more than once, her pistol never failing to make enemies just as dead as anybody else's blasters.
'Opefully, eef Ervi anni zurvive zis
Donnie said with a smirk and a wink at Ervi.
Ve zelebrade, no? Eef you play ze cars gud, 'Ooumon, zen ve make more a party, lezz negotationz...nozzing izz...needing be zo offizal wiz frenz, no?
Donnie asked, somewhat sweetly, figuring she could just move things on and give Bax an incentive to not get them killed, as well as to affirm that she'd be "open for business", so long as it was understood that a good time, horizontally or no, was a bonus, not what she was actually putting on the table for trade.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Jul 8, 2015 0:42:33 GMT -5
Ervisa attached a sling to the mounting points on the long rifle. Somehow the Republic had never seemed to issue the slings. Probably because all that bulky armor got in the way of it. Either way it still had the mounts though, and the leather strap was mostly attached by the time Bax was retorting. That was, of course, after the little interchange he and Doneeda'd had over buying something sexy. That was probably a joke.
Well unless Frederick's of Coruscant had dramatically expanded out of their standard areas of operation very quickly.
The dead-pan suggestion of mutual attraction and carnal pleasure prompted a snort in response from the Mirialan woman, as she slung the rifle over her shoulder.
"Yeah I'm into the romance over the spontaneous fucking, because that way even if you're terrible, or obsessed with my feet, or prepared to wield your four inches of power, or something, I still get dinner out of it. Preferably a nice dinner. And alcohol. Enough alcohol and it all comes out even in the morning."
Ervisa's eyes flitted back to the Twi'lek, who certainly didn't seem to have any reservations about the vague promise of indiscretion wafting about the room like the aroma of good takeout. She seemed to have more reservations about the DL-44 Bax was tossing her way. The Twi'lek was an interesting one all right, the tattoos were starting to really catch her attention. She'd been around a bit, but never much in Hutt Space, and never had seen Twi'leks so heavily tattooed. That made her think it was some kind of Hutt-related thing.
"We're one weird little group Bax, a Mirialan, a human, and a Twi'lek sounds like the start of a bad joke. I'm hoping you've got a good plan in mind for this?"
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Post by Mr. Slender on Jul 8, 2015 18:25:12 GMT -5
The longer this arrangement stretched out, the longer Bax was starting to hate the process of working with new partners for the first time. It was making him long for Kara in more ways than sexually or mentally for once. There was an art to business, and she was the only person besides himself he'd met, outside of Hutts and his parents, that was a master of it. The junker still liked these two, but it was a pain not dealing with professionals.
"Donnie we're all making it back, don't worry so much. If this hutt was a real threat I would've tracked down some mandalorians for backup." Bax stated at Donnie, but wasn't sure if she hear him while staring a hole into Ervi. Or thinking really hard about her holes by the look....
The Junker's mind didn't linger on their apparent mutual attraction to their miralian friend, due to the fact he again had to devote all of his runtime to comprehending her damned basic again. "Sounds good to me." Was all he replied, not knowing what the hell she say other than it was some question.
"Hmmm, so by that logic if I pay for the after mission drinks and food, you'll fuck me? Nice, also glad to know I can skip the whole giving you an orgasm thing, alcohol should fill that void. At least that's what I got out of what you said, Ervi." Bax rambled off as he visibly agonized over bringing the carbines or not, before laying them aside and just going with belting on the bandoleer.
From an oddly neat and folded stack of clothes he pulled the top one and unfurled it to reveal it as a tan desert cloak. "Alright, this is how this is going to go down. Donnie, you're driving the skiff. Ervi, you're on supporting fire. Anything goes wrong you bring the vehicle around to get me, and you shoot anything that's not me. I'll be taking the crates to the hutt himself."
With that said, and his cloak in place covering the grenades, the junker walked along side three large metal crates bordered with yellow and giving them a slight kick at the bottom. After each blow the crate's repulsors kicked on and they slowly rose off the ground. "The skiff is on the other side of the hanger, let's go ahead and load these."
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Post by The Conman on Jul 9, 2015 22:34:21 GMT -5
Heh...4 inch ah powah...
The Twi'lek mused after Ervi said it, chuckling at her comment.
Donnie nodded after Bax mentioned the lack of need of mandalorians. It seemed like Ervi and her were there more for moral support than actual backup. This was something the Twi'lek was totally ok with, Socorro was a bit of a shithole, and the idea of getting stembolts and a party out of the deal was worth it to the woman.
The plan was simple enough, Donnie driving the Skiff and acting as wheelman for their potentially thrilling heroics. Her selection as their driver was somewhat serendipitous, the woman being probably the best pilot on the planet, let alone amongst the three of them. She hoped the Skiff was at least in passable shape, last thing Doneeda wanted to worry about was the thing tossing a fanbelt in the middle of a getaway.
Either way, the woman nodded through the rather brief briefing, and didn't have any questions, it was pretty simple. If things went pearshaped, they'd be shooting their way out. Pretty typical when Hutts were involved.
The woman stood up and took the blanket she'd had wrapped around her off and tossed it onto the couch, the cold of the ship's AC biting at her skin as she strode over to a crate near Bax and grabbed it, babbling in her broken basic to the group more than any individual member.
Zo...onze we's done wi'dis has- ah...whads verd...Drr...Vaddavah, Dis ding, I godda shiddloadda booze een mah chip, eefin' choo guize be likin' da stron'stuf? Ees dike...ninney per-...Echuda...werds...ees dike da fiarwadder, choo guise kno? Rippin' yer lips off, gud stuff.
She rambled as they walked towards the hangar. Not only did Donnie intend to use it to get hammed, but she also intended to swap it, all 25 drums of it, for the stembolts.
She hoped.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Jul 10, 2015 0:20:13 GMT -5
Ervisa didn't really notice Donnie staring, she'd always been a little confused when it came to the romance side of the house, or even the simple attraction side. It was weird, she was good-looking, but not particularly active in that department. Chalk it up to her bad track record of boyfriends, or the divorce. That floated directly to her mind as Bax stated he would've hired Mandalorians. That actually brought an amused little smile onto her face, which they probably just assumed was a response to Bax's further sex-based witticisms.
She was surprised though, genuinely. Maybe they weren't great next to Donnie's, but Ervisa's cleavage area had a tattoo. It started at the base of her neck, touching the collar bones, with the lowest point nestled at the very beginnings of the canyon separating the twins. It was a mythosaur, that universal symbol of Mandalorians, and the sole relic she had of marrying one.
Three years. Doing the mando thing. Wearing the armor wasn't so bad, most of the Mando'a she'd learned had slipped away, but really the one negative thing she remembered was farming dirt. Why Holden wanted to farm and have a billion kids was beyond her, Ervisa'd hated both ideas. Probably why they'd divorced before wasting any more of their lives.
Still, she'd have figured Bax had noticed that. Lost in the proverbial forest, apparently one tree wasn't being seen. But it was no big deal, the plan was solid anyway. Overwatch was fine with her, doubly so once she fished a pair of working macrobinoculars from a pile of old magazines, and Ervisa grabbed one of the hovering crates and pushed it down the ramp.
It was cooler than earlier outside, and substantially less bright as the sun dipped steadily lower behind mountains. However, Ervisa looked back over her shoulder at Doneeda, who's Basic kept getting more confusing. It had started off, well, unusual and jumbled. Then once it started making sense it sounded like some kind of Twi'lek stripper on the holonet, and finally it came in at 'Nautolan witch doctor.' How precisely this happened Ervisa couldn't guess, only to shake her head slightly and mentally note linguistics was not her field.
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Mr. Slender
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Post by Mr. Slender on Jul 12, 2015 22:07:28 GMT -5
Bax could only let out an exaperated sigh after getting another barrage of broken basic from Donnie. At this point it was less about her being unintelligible, and more about the fact she'd been told multiple times to speak Huttese. The Twi'lek had seemed as intelligent as any average Joe, but her refusal to comply was making him curious if she was that forgetful or was she doing this on purpose.
Either way, this was not the time to ponder what her motives could be. Bax only hoped that she didn't end up getting him killed over her linguistic limitations. At least she could understand him just fine.
The junker fellowed his partners in crime off of The Drifter with the last crate, stopping to shut and lock the hatch, before heading over to where he'd directed them. The Bantha-II cargo skiff he'd rented was still in the same it'd been left, and the cargo ramp had been lowered hours ago for this very moment.
Bax pushed his crate to the center and locked it to the deck within a couple minites, and watched patiently as his friends did the same. Too be honest, he almost regretted picking an open craft with basically no cover for this potentially dangerous meet, but it'd been all he afford on short notice. Especially since he had specifically been looking for one with an option turret mounted, and this Bantha had a very impressive looking one mounted to the front railing.
"Alright, ladies. I think we're ready to go, we're already late as it is. Take us west out of the city." Bax prompted declared, as he retracted the loading ramp. With that he took up a position leaning over the front rail next to the turret, ready to give directions when they reached the next leg of the journey.
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Post by The Conman on Jul 12, 2015 22:36:10 GMT -5
Donnie took the party's collective silence as consent that they were interested in booze. That or they didn't understand her. Being forever the optimist, however, she figured it meant they were down to party after the droids were dropped.
The woman shoved her crate up the ramp and locked it into place, heading to the control pedestal at the back of the skiff. Truth be told, she'd never piloted a Bantha II. The Twi'lek looked over the controls and got the gist, however, everything looking to be pretty self explanatory, even if some of the labels were written in Aruebesh and exceedingly difficult for her to read.
The continually updating of finger doers particularly pleases my angry bits...
Donnie muttered to herself in her native, ass backwards, Boska Huttese, while trying to decipher where the "start" button was, crouched down behind the control console, wiping the grime and dirt off of labels written in faded Aruebesh. It wasn't really helping, she surmised, figuring the green button on the top of the console was as good as any. The woman stood up and grabbed onto the nearby railing, and pressed it.
The Skiff slowly whirred to life, not moving from where they'd gotten on, but lights on the console ( those that weren't burnt out...) lighting up, and the ( one functional ) gauge coming to life.
Progress...
Donnie muttered, a slight frown on her face as she tapped a few of the other gauges, hoping they'd jump to life. After a few raps, and realizing the Skiff was probably either a rental or something Bax had found in a junk yard, Donnie gave up and leaned back against the nearby railing, arms out to either side holding onto it, watching as the pair got into position.
So, Bax my man, I hate to tell you this, but if we need to shoot our way out, I think this thing may kill us before anybody's blaster's do.
Donnie said from her more comfy than it looked position, continuing in Basic after to ask Ervi about positioning.
'Ey, ah, Ervi, d'yah wamme do pudda ski...no...skiff...dinger...waddevah dis ding ees, da...ah...fronways, to make da cover fo'yah wenwe geddere?
The Twi'lek asked, using hand gestures to indicate she wanted to put the skiff front-onto the baddies so Ervi could use the Turret if need be while Bax was out doing the deal, and to keep it's rear end, full of sensitive and exposed repulsor bits, away from fire.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Jul 12, 2015 23:02:35 GMT -5
Ervisa loaded up her crate as Bax had, and then looked about the skiff with idle curiosity. It was grungy, with caked on dirt and sand, somehow noticeable over the ugly brown finish it was dressed up in. It was distinctly odd, you'd have thought that the wear and tear would be better disguised. Ervisa tentatively gave the side barrier a kick. The dull sound of it on the thick metal told her that, at least, the thing was structurally sound. So far.
Donnie was muttering in Basic after Bax asked her to pilot it, and she had a surprising sort of look on her face as she puzzled out the controls. Ervisa resisted going back to lend a hand. It'd be fine. Instead she looked forward to see Bax perched like he was some General in a painting. That prompted a quiet chuckle.
Ervisa rummaged through her rucksack, pulling out a pair of goggles. The sort of ones that looked precisely at home amid the blowing sand she anticipated.
Further rummaging was cut off as Donnie inquired something, and the Mirialan looked up to try to process it.
It entered her ears. Then it rattled about for a while, sinking down into the muck of her brainspace and waiting despondently to be processed. Then with an extremely abrupt shift, it was ascended to the heavenly realm of achieved knowledge.
"Yes Doneeda, that'd be good. But offset the skiff a little from whatever entrance there is, I can move to cover somewhere, and we can get overlapping fields of fire."
That was tactics 101. Entry level. Prerequisite.
She resumed rummaging through the pack, and finally found it. A pair of speakers. A small device. A cable. Her eyes flitted about until she found the on-deck power port, and deftly she connected the elements. Then she held the device in her hand with a broad grin.
"So, Anaxes War College okay with you mates? I've got the whole discography on here, banned by His Exalted Shrivelledness Palpatine."
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Post by Mr. Slender on Jul 16, 2015 23:54:56 GMT -5
Bax didn't let it show on his face at all, but he was more than a little troubled by the Bantha II before they'd even gotten on board. Against all rules of business he knew, or had made up on the fly, he'd rented this collection of sandblasted scrap without actually seeing it in action first.
Again, time was of the importance and this guy Crazy Jocko came highly recommended, so he'd taken a chance. Even now he wasn't a hundred percent sure it was a mistake, but that figure ascended higher with every second Donnie didn't fire up the engines. It was honestly making him tense, and he didn't even bother to answer her on that one.
This job was getting shittier by the second.
It was Ervi's voice that finally dislodged him from his staked and claimed rail. If it wasn't for the speakers Bax would've almost thought his friend was joking on blasting music to go meet a hutt. They would Kore than likely not appreciate the racket, especially Anaxes War College.
"Sure, why not, please make a point to turn it down when we get near the meeting spot. Don't want want to find out what genre the client listens to." While making his request, Bax followed the lead of Ervi to remove a pair of scratched googles from a side pouch. "Donnie, can you get this thing airborne? If not I'd like to know now."
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Post by The Conman on Jul 19, 2015 22:22:42 GMT -5
Donnie shot Ervi a thumbs up. Her plan made sense, overlapping fields of fire wouldn't be a bad idea, Donnie realized. The Twi'lek was trained to fight inside a ship, so having space to move around was somewhat foreign to the woman. Either way, Ervi's idea was solid and she'd remember for the future incase things went pearshaped.
Donnie was about to say something about cover when Ervi started rumaging around in her bag and produced a pair of speakers and a small music player, then connected the whole setup. She mentioned something about Anaxes War College, and the woman vaguely remembered the name, recalling it was something her Son, Enarin, listened too while he motored around the ship with his headphones on, ignoring people and eating all the food. Donnie managed to muster a shrug in response to Ervi's question, not being overly choosy about music.
Bax spoke, asking the Twi'lek to get the skiff moving, if possible. Doneeda gave a mock salute and lazily stepped the step forward to the control console, and put her hands on the "wheel" that was there. She staired at the console for a second, then looked up at Bax and Ervi, somewhat confused.
Ah...guise, Canyah gimmie a'han widda 'Besh 'ere? Is...ah...wordz...I's not good a'readin' eet...I can'finda settin' for'tah make ahh daship go....
Donnie admitted gesturing with her hands as she explained her "predicament", realizing the Aurebesh was too far gone for her to be able to understand. She'd taken her hands off the controls and was hunched over the control console again, trying her best to figure out which leaver would release the breaks and get them moving.
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Post by Grand Moff Poobah I on Jul 19, 2015 22:48:00 GMT -5
Ervisa was starting to prep the album for the speaker system when Donnie issued her request. That she actually paid attention to. Hutts didn't care about your music tastes. They cared about your pocketbook. Or your skills. Technically playlist-composition was something of a skill, but it was still automatically filed away as 'trivial' by Ervisa's brain. In contrast, Donnie seemed to have a rough time reading the control markers. That was more of a problem.
The Mirialan had hopped back over there in a heartbeat, primarily because it was reasonably interesting. Also because she was curious if it was good Aurebesh, or some kind of weird and-
Ervisa promptly let out a loud and amused 'snerk.' A snerk being the kind of sound across between a snort and a laugh, delivered while smirking.
The button she recognized as main power was labeled 'Powers of Primary.' The repulsor activation was labeled 'Levitate Commencement.' The throttle was unlabeled entirely, the air brakes were labeled "Damage Wind.' It was a hilariously bad sort of clusterfuck, the kind of thing humorously labeled 'Basric.' After suitable time spent chuckling, Ervisa clapped Doneeda on the back.
"Sorry hon, it's in really awful Basic. This looks like the air brake, this is the release over here, throttle's there, primary power, secondary power, airspeed indicator, uh, that looks like the altimeter isn't even working..."
Ervisa shot an apologetic look over at Bax, shrugged dramatically, and laughed.
"Look, it's either going to work or we're all going to die. Horribly most likely. Whatever bits of you survive the explosion intact can then be burned and eaten by various desert animals. But it'll all go back to the ecosystem in the end, that's the beautiful part of nature. I know because I watched those documentaries."
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Post by Mr. Slender on Jul 21, 2015 21:08:41 GMT -5
Honestly, as much trouble as this trip had increasingly become with each passing second it seemed, Bax kinda hoped they did have some catastrophic mechanical failure out in the middle of the desert. It would've been a fitting epilogue for this mess. Then again, getting laid was always the best epilogue. Either way, the junker wanted this certified piece of shit in the air five minutes ago.
"Fuck the ecosystem. If we did die like that I wish the last member of race of beautiful animals chokes to death on a charred hunk of ass. I hate the desert almost as much as I do the jungle." Bax vented, never raising his voice but having a gruff tone.
"You know I can fly this thing, that might make things easier in the long run. Plus, we are unforgivably late as it is, might be better if I fly." He added, slowly strolling over to his friends.
Bax hadn't flown a skiff since he was an Imperial, but still thought he could do it well enough to get them where they need to. If he was 100% certain earlier that he'd have had to fly himself he would've sprung for something better honestly....
"Donnie, I don't care if this thing explodes on take over, get it airborne. I need you to do this, or else I'll have too."
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