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The Things We Do For Friends

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  • The Things We Do For Friends

    Mag was disappointed.

    After the rigmarole of getting docked on Depatar, getting a disguise together, getting the right permits, and then actually finding the auction house, the auction itself was a bit of a let-down. Sure, the stone-faced buyers were no surprise – even the ones she could actually see the faces of, painted though they were as part of elaborate disguises. The lots were a mix of rare and illicit, only a few really making her turn her head and wonder how they had gotten there. There weren’t any living lots, thank the gods. At least, none that came up on the stage clapped in irons and looking like they wanted the floor to swallow them whole.

    Technically, it all had the makings of being exactly what she’d come to Depatar expecting. It was all just… strangely soulless. There were bidding wars for exciting lots, of course, but everyone behaved themselves. The auction house itself was brightly lit and kept clean, the walls and furniture the same bland colour schemes typically found in office buildings. Even the auctioneer sounded bored and jaded as he rattled off descriptions of illegal and fantastical items, and bids high enough that Mag didn’t think she’d ever earn them in five lifetimes.

    Then Lot 665 was hauled on stage and everything else fell away. Behind her mask – a simple thing that trailed brightly coloured stars across her eyes and over one cheek, it and the rest of her clothes leftover from a fancy dress party two years back – her brown eyes widened, while her stomach twisted itself into knots. This was what she had come for.

    It was a big honkin’ thing. A great, looming slab of faintly metallic grey. The figure in the middle looked like they had been trying to strike a pose, but the grimace frozen on their face stole away any bravado they’d been going for. As she stared up at him, she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to laugh at his last-minute humour or sob at the state he was in.

    The moment the word Jedi was uttered from the auctioneer’s lips, the first genuine reaction from the crowd sent murmurs fluttering around the room. Heart in her throat, pulse pounding in her ears, Mag ignored them.

    Then the bidding started. There was interest from all over, the amount ticking up higher and higher. Then someone mused, a little louder than was appropriate, that there was bound to be trouble for whoever took a frozen slab of Jedi home with them. The bids slowed after that, several parties dropping out as common sense reigned, and Mag decided it had been worth paying for the decoy.

    When all was said and done, she had still spent enough to make her dizzy and sick just to think about. She’d had to call in every favour, take out every loan any bank would give her, and sell the ship when she’d arrived, and the closing bid had taken all that and wiped out any contingency and personal savings she’d been holding onto. She’d just have to hope her old friend came through.

    At least she’d rented the two-bed hotel room beforehand. It was small and box-like, and verging on crowded even before her prize was delivered unceremoniously into the middle of it.

    Perched on the foot of one bed, her mask shed and a cigarra held between two fingers, she stared up at the great, carbonite… thing… she’d spent more money on than she could ever hope to pay back. She had blankets and towels laid out, and a change of clothes that would’ve fit the man when she’d last seen him, but that had been years ago and who knew if it still would now. There was a bottle of water, and a pack of cigarras, and random odds and ends of food and over-the-counter medicine, because what was she really meant to expect here? So she’d prepared for every outcome.

    Now all she had to do was pop the box open and see what came out.

    Breathing a heavy sigh, she took a final drag of smoke and stubbed her cigarra out in a heavy glass ashtray before she hauled herself up to her feet. Her fingers pushed through her shortish, dark brown hair before her hands went swinging bonelessly at her sides. Anything to put this off just a few more seconds.

    Finally, a small scowl of thought pursing her lips, she worked her old friend’s prison open and stepped back to watch the aftermath.

  • #2
    Eddic drew breath for the first time in months. He could feel his carbonite shell melt away and for all too brief a moment delicious, near forgotten warmth. Immediately after the process was finished the chill clawed it's way back down into his bones and he shivered as he stepped free of framework of his life-preserving former prison.

    Stepped was perhaps too strong a word because what Eddic had actually done was thrust out an awkward, wobbly limb and promptly fell flat on his stubbly face.

    Cold-numbed, atrophied muscles protested and then largely ignored his attempts to push himself up or even to roll over and so he opted to lay still. Instinctively he reacted out to other senses and found it not unlike grabbing an oiled chain. The Force was there and he could touch it but...

    His mind felt like a bag of broken mirrors, all sharp-edged, shifting and confusing reflections being bounced around. Thoughts and memories were all jumbled up, so even taking refuge in his mind wasn't much of an option. The sudden quiet of the room hit him, a sharp contrast to his last memory of an alarm blared over speakers and the distant sound of air being sucked into vacuum. The memory coaxed out his awareness and he took stock of his surroundings as best he could.

    It was pitch black with no source of light, at least from his vantage point from the floor. Although, something nagged at the back of his mind about the dark and that not being right.

    Cigarra smoke.

    The familiar smell hung in the air but it was hard to tell if it was recent. A thought kicked it's way through the current haze of his mind. The fact that he was out and there was smoke meant someone had thawed him out. Eddic coughed to clear his throat and voice catching a bit with his shivers said, "Whoever you are, quick, this is really important."

    An arm flapped weakly, which was more successful but still took perhaps more effort than it was worth.

    "How was my pose?"


    • #3
      Her eyes widened as Mag watched carbonite melt away and reveal the man inside. She hesitated for a second, wondering what the frak she was meant to do now; it wasn’t like running undercover with spice pushers and general scum had exactly prepared her for something like this.

      Eddic started to move, and Mag reached out to catch him. At least, she meant to reach out and catch him. He fell too quickly, dropping like a particularly clumsy tree onto the floor. Following him down on her knees, she winced in sympathy and worried at the skin around her thumbnail as she waited for some sign that he was OK.

      He was breathing. And moving, if with as much strength and dexterity as a drunk kitten, but it was a start.

      Round, brown eyes blinked as she watched his arm flail, waiting for the rest of whatever he was going to say. Reaching out, she caught his hand to stop him before he smacked it against something. Then her old occasional-partner spoke again and a snort of laughter leapt from her mouth.

      “Seriously?” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes as she scooted closer. With a firm grip, she took hold of his shoulders and started pushing him upright. “You just got out of being a big, metal popsicle and you’re worried about how you looked?”

      Shaking her head, she let out another soft chuckle and grunted as she worked to move the man nearly twice her size. “You looked like a koochoo. So, basically normal.”

      Belatedly, she remembered the lengthy list of possible side effects that could come with this sort of thing. Blindness, deafness… Frowning, she reached for his hand again and pushed his fingers into a hand signal she hadn’t shared with him for years: safe.


      • #4

        Laughter was good. Usually. The probing movement of his hand was brought to a stop but in the grip of another hand. Before he could fully process that he found himself being set up. He tried to help, his body now slowly crawling with the bittersweet sensation of icy pinpricks.His hands and arms were feeling better, at least. His legs remained rebelliously uncooperative.

        The Guardian's brain kept trying to put things together, despite the number of missing pieces. His rescuer didn't immediately just haul him around and in fact seemed to be wrestling a bit with his dead weight. So, he could cross off Wookiee and anything relatively sized. His deductions were interrupted by said individual actually speaking.

        A voice that was oddly familiar but still unexpected. Huh.

        "Well, it's a fine line between respectable and grandiose," Eddic explained in a dry tone. "I tried to aim for 'man of the people' and personally I think I kinda nailed it."

        Another touch at his hand and it took him a moment to realize someone was fiddling with his fingers. "The frell you doin'?"

        It took him a moment to focus not on the action but the result, as old muscle memory kicked in. He made the gesture himself and his eyebrows went up in surprise as the realization hit him. The corners of his mouth quirked up in a grin that was both puzzled and amused,"Mag?"

        His other hand reached out and caught her wrist and used her arm as a guide up to her shoulder. "How'd you find me?"


        • #5
          Rolling her eyes again, Mag tutted under her breath. “Well at least your ears still work,” she retorted, a wry smirk playing over her lips. “Not sure about your eyes yet, though. How many fingers am I holding up?”

          She waved her hand in front of Eddic’s face, two fingers held up. After a moment, she dropped her hand away and leaned over to grab a bottle of water from the end of the bed. Really, she should’ve counted on not being able to get the man over there straight off the bat.

          “Sweetie, you are definitely a man of the people,” she chuckled, the twist of her lips turning briefly fond. Twisting the top off the bottle, she passed it over and settled down on her haunches.

          A sunny grin blossomed over her face as recognition clicked pieces into place. Shrugging, then realising he might not be able to see it, she rolled her eyes at herself and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

          “In the flesh. Call it a hunch, I guess. I woke up one morning and my gut was telling me to check the auction houses for something important.” Blinking, she looked at the hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing here, Edd?”


          • #6
            "Well, unless you're using'em to cover up my eye," Eddic deadpanned. "I'd say I can't see a damn thing."

            That had been the nagging thing about the 'darkness' of the room. Hibernation sickness did that, apparently. He raked a hand through dark hair still damp from being thawed out. He squinted his single good eye but everything remained a big, dark blur. It was temporary but that wasn't immensely comforting. Any other time, it wouldn't be much of a problem however with his grip on the Force being what it was right now, it was a little unnerving to be without that critical sense.

            He gratefully took a long pull of the water, which his throat badly needed but his stomach twisted in protest. The one-eyed Jedi switched to taking brief, shallow sips as Mag spoke. His fingers were working better. The ones on his left hand wiggled hesitantly. Another wave of shivers caused him to dribble a little water down his chin and he bared his teeth in a irritated grimace.

            "Good to see ya, so to speak," Eddic smirked, lifting his bottle in a salute in the general direction of Mag's voice. He remembered her hunches well, given that he'd had that in common during his Security Officer days. That made him pause a bit, looking back on that fact with hindsight. He chose not to remark on that just then. Instead, the Guardian blinked a sightless eye the color of old steel. "Wait an auction?"

            "Somebody sold me?" He wasn't sure if he was flattered, insulted or amused by that.He snorted and asked archly, "Did they...did they know anything about me or did somebody turn me into a kaff table?"

            Another sip of water gave him a pause to collect his thoughts to her question, wondering where to start. "Actually, that sort of depends on where here happens to be."

            "Last I knew, I was on some old re-purposed Clone Wars relic near Genarius," he explained. A finger tapped against the side of his water bottle, continuing to work out the icy tingles in his hand. His other hand flexed open and closed for the same reason, absently as he spoke. "There was a small cartel snatching people."

            "Kids," he clarified through teeth. "Using the carbonite to keep them 'mint-condition' and easier to transport."

            He rolled his wrist and swished the liquid in around in the bottle.

            "I...wanted to have a word with them about that," he continued. "During our conversation some stupid 'bakto chucked a thermal detonator and blew out everything critical on the ship and put a nice hole in the hull."

            "Only enough room for the kids and the rookie Sec cop that was my guide around here in the shuttle. Told'em I'd take an escape pod but the things were so old..."

            He shrugged.

            "Anyway the ship was drifting, running out of air. I can do a...trance thing to last a while but I wasn't sure how much time I'd need, the carbonite was there so I improvised."

            "So, " Eddic said with a lopsided grin. "What have you been up too?"


            • #7
              “Sorry, pateesa, looks like you’re blind as a bat,” Mag replied, wincing through the answer. She looked around belatedly, rolling her lip between her teeth in thought. Stretching over, she grabbed a towel from the bed and handed it over to Eddic.

              “Your Jedi powers tingling, or… however it works? Which, by the way, thanks for letting me know. I surfaced from an assignment and Jago tells me you’ve wandered off to Yavin IV? Awesome.”

              Letting out a low snort, she shrugged as she sat up on her knees and looked over the supplies she’d gathered before popping Eddic out of his frosty carbonite prison. Grabbing a box of pills and a pack of cigarras – and lighter – she hunkered down again. “Yep. You’ve ended up on Depatar. And yeah, they knew what they had their hands on. No offense, babe, but you’re kind of distinctive.”

              Her nose wrinkled as she tugged the little plastic bottle open and tipped a couple of pills out onto her palm. “These are just generic travel sickness meds, but I figured they wouldn’t do you any harm,” she explained as she pressed them into his palm and turned her attention to working a couple of cigarras out of the pack.

              “By the way, I’m now up to my eyeballs in debt making sure your eema didn’t get bought up by some scummy, weird collectors out there. Including selling my damn ship, so I’m sort of hoping you have some credits on you.”

              Mag fell silent when Eddic started giving his story. Getting both cigarras lit, she held one out for the other man as she took a long drag from her own, savouring the scratch of smoke in her throat. A frown pulled at her lips, etching between her brows deeper the more she heard. Shaking her head, she hissed a smoky sigh out between her teeth.

              “Glad to hear you’ve still got graks of steel,” she teased with a quiet, slightly faltering laugh. Looking down at her cigarra, she scowled briefly. “So, the frakkers who you wanted a word with, they got what’s coming to them? Justice dealt and all that, right?”

              Letting out a low sigh, she shook her head and shifted back to lean against the foot of the nearest bed. “Well, I left the force for starters. Been working privately for the last couple of years. And of course, now I’ll be selling a kidney to stop lots of lovely debt collectors from coming after me, so that’ll be fun.”


              • #8
                "Actually, not so much," Eddic said, pulling a sour face. "It's...there but I think my head's all, I dunno fuzzy?"

                At her other remark, the Guardian flinched a bit guiltily and rubbed at the back of his neck. He mumbled, "Uh, yeah, sorry about that."

                "I wasn't sure when you'd be out and I was trying to figure out what was going on with me." He accepted the towel and dried himself off a bit as he spoke. "What about that message? I left a message with Jago, he was supposed to give it to you, not just say I frakked off to Jedi Land."

                "Depatar?" He wracked his brain a minute, scratching at his jaw. "That's the one with the perpetual costume party, right?"

                Being called distinctive earned a chuckle and he had to admit, he probably didn't blend in easily with a crowd. He rolled a thumb over the pills in his hand and knocked them back with a mouthful of water. He frowned upon hearing about how his misadventure had plunged Mag into abysmal debt. "Triakk, sorry about your ship, Mags."

                "The Jedi thing doesn't exactly leave you flush with credits but I got enough to get us some transport," he mused. "After that, I'll figure out some way of paying back every last decicred."

                When she passed him the cigarra, he took it but gave her arm a brief squeeze and said, "Seriously, though, Mag. Thanks."

                He breathed in tabac and laid his head back against the bed behind him before exhaling a jet of smoke. Given that there wasn't much to see anyway, he closed his eye and stayed like that for a while. He listened to her questions and gave a grunt and shrug. "It's not exactly how I'd have liked for it to have gone down but I wasn't left with a lot of options."

                "It was them or the kids and I'm not gonna lose sleep over that choice." He let the cigarra rest on his lips and lowered his head again to stare blindly at his feet. He silently willed his big toe to wiggle, just a little but it brazenly defied him once again.

                "Private sector?" Eddic inquired, giving a low whistle before trying to suppress a grin and put on a look of feigned blue-collar indignation and in his best drawl said, "Faaancy, Darvish."

                "And it won't come to that, I'll figure out someway to get you out of hock," Eddic reassured his former partner. He grinned again suddenly, his tone equally as teasing as hers had been earlier. "Besides, I've seen you drink. Ain't nobody wants those kidneys."

                He paused and took another drag off the cigarra. After a little effort, the toe of his boot waggled back and forth a bit.


                • #9
                  A lopsided smirk stole across Mag’s lips as she nodded thoughtfully. “Literal brain freeze,” she teased, tapping her temple before remembering how useful that was, at present. Rolling her eyes at herself, she took another pull of smoke and reached for the ashtray from the bed to tap ash off into.

                  Shrugging, she looked down at her feet as her smile faded. “Yeah, he did. And I get why you went. Triakk, I always knew you were bound for bigger and better things than chasing drenhead spicers and dren like that. Still, might’ve been nice if you’d waited. I owe you a proper send off.”

                  With a nod, she sank back more comfortably against the footboard and crossed one leg over the other. “Yep. That’s the one. Which, I’ve got a costume all lined up for you too.”

                  The Sulonese woman thought for a moment, a frown etched between her brow. Shaking her head, she sighed and waved off Eddic’s assurance. “Look, I may whine and complain about it, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do the same if it had been double the price. Get us out of here, I’ll figure out the rest. And anyway, the ship was a hunk of junk. The poor guy I sold it to paid me way more than it was worth.”

                  Her hand moved on instinct, just in time to brush fingers with the Jedi beside her. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

                  “Oh yeah,” she let that smirk come creeping across her face again. “That’s me. Fancy and living it up while I snoop around on cheating spouses. Granted, it’s easier to follow your gut, and I do like getting shot at less. And screw you, my kidneys are beautiful. My liver’s probably seen better days, though…”

                  Her smile brightened as she looked down. “Hey, look at you all toe tappin’. How are you feeling?”


                  • #10
                    "Yeah, should have waited," Eddic admitted. He chuckled and added, "Upside is that the whole Jedi thing has really improved my patience. I can sit still for whole minutes at a time. I'm like a rock."

                    "Besides, now we can combine a send off with a reunion and save time," The one-eyed man smirked. His smirk fell a bit when he heard about his costume and he frowned suspiciously at the air just a little to the left of Mag's head. "Am I going to be glad I can't see this costume?"

                    He took a slow, shallow sip of the water, noticing that the acrid, metallic tang left there by the carbonite was slowly getting pushed out by the combination of water and cigarra smoke.

                    "Nuh-uh," he said firmly. "I'm paying you back somehow. I got some savings tucked away, frell, if nothing else I can probably throw some clients your way or consult on some jobs so you can charge for Executive Jedi Tier Services or somethin'."

                    He waved off any argument with the bottle of water, the contents sloshing up a bitty whirlpool inside. "Anyway, meantime what's mine is yours, 'till we sort it out."

                    "Like hammered dren," Eddic replied in a wry but cheerful tone. "Which is an improvement."

                    He flexed his leg a little, feeling that odd sensation of blood flowing through a limb that had been asleep. After a little of that, he bent his knee back and forth and then started the process over toe and all on the other leg. "Think I might can stand up a little."

                    In a a few, careful movements he set the water bottle down and perched the cigarra atop it, making sure it didn't roll off. He felt around until he got the edge of the bed in his grip and pushed himself up like a wobbly newborn animal. Hs foot kept trying to twist in an awkward angle and he had to stomp the other one down quickly a few times to adjust his balance. His recovering body painfully protested but he made it to his feet.

                    "Hah! Lookit that!" He released his hand and froze, testing his balance. Immediately he began to buckle and sway like a drunk.

                    "Frellfrellfrellfrelldren," The Sulonese Jedi tried to catch himself on something as he tipped over.


                    • #11
                      “Oh yeah?” Mag laughed again lightly, a smirk playing over her lips as she looked sidelong at the man beside her. “I’m impressed.”

                      She shrugged again and took a final drag of her cigarra before stubbing it out in the tray. “Nah. It’s just a mask and a big hood. And I brought you a change of clothes, because I wasn’t sure if yours were going to be soaked through or something. It should fit.”

                      A fond smile settled on her round face. Reaching up to tuck a stray lock of dark brown hair behind her ear, she watched the man beside her, chatting with her like they hadn’t spent years apart. It was nice; nice enough that she almost wondered how they’d gone so long without catching up.

                      The moment Eddic started staggering to his feet, Mag climbed to hers. Smoothing her shirt down to meet the top of her dark, fitted trousers, she held her hands out, poised in the air to help. He seemed to have a handle on things, though, first finding his knees and then pulling himself upright.

                      Then he started to waver and fall and she was right there, surging forward to put her arm around him and keep him standing.

                      “OK, sweetheart,” she chuckled as she guided him over to the edge of the bed and helped him sit down. “Well done, you’ve proven you can fall on your face all by yourself.”


                      • #12
                        "Well, it was so fun the first time I did it," Eddic remarked in regard to his talent for embracing gravity. He leaned into Mag for support but kept his weight at least balanced enough that he didn't just topple her along with him. The Sulonese Guardian eased himself onto the bed, which he was pleased to note he could not feel enough to know it was more comfortable than the floor.

                        "So," he said, settling into a comfortable seated position. He continued to move his legs a little in fidgety little movements to try and get them working again. Occasionally he would stop and work his hands a bit by kneading the stiff muscles of his legs. "Why'd you quit? Bureaucrats mucking around down in the law again or just ready for a change of scenery?"

                        After a little while he stopped his series of movements and just stretched a bit and rubbed a hand over his face. As he gave his legs a little more adjustment time he listened to Mag and tried again to reach out to the Force, still finding that slippery but his thoughts were getting more focused. That warm, familiar presence touched his mind but briefly,elusively and was gone again. Eddic found he was comforted a bit just that it was still there but decided to focus on his body first and let the mind follow.

                        "Alright, I'm gonna give this another try," he announced. This time, he held out an arm for Mag to give him a little help. Then he slowly and carefully stood up and held his arms out a bit for balance.


                        He felt like a stiff breeze might tip him over again but he could stand under his own power and that was something. When he was certain he wasn't going to fall, he shrugged off the damp, battered duster coat he had on and draped it over one arm. "You said you brought some clothes, could you point me at them?"


                        • #13
                          Mag wrinkled her nose, lips pulling into a slight frown as she looked away. Her gaze went distant for a moment as thoughts wandered towards her last days in the force.

                          “Yeah,” she nodded and shrugged evasively before she started absently rearranging the other random items on the bed, getting them out of Eddic’s way. “Something like that. You know me, I’m dren at staying still.”

                          Food. He needed food. Grabbing a nutrient bar off the bedspread, she pulled open the wrapper and handed the beige bar of vaguely sweet, protein and vitamin-packed semi-food to the Jedi.

                          While he was busy trying out his limbs, getting used to how to move again after who knew how long frozen, Mag took to pacing slowly around the room. Old memories always got her agitated like that. It didn’t help that there was a nagging feeling at the back of her head, like an insect biting at her skull, that kept making her guts twist. There was something she hadn’t factored in, she was sure. Something she hadn’t prepared for…

                          The moment Eddic held an arm out, she returned to his side, her hands held out to support him as he found his feet.

                          “Well done,” she teased affectionately, a hint of pride in her half-smile. “There’s a shirt and some pants at the top of the bed. Just… follow the mattress up. I’m gonna go stand over there and look the other way.”

                          She had just started moving when a knock sounded at the door. No, not a knock. A pounding. Brown eyes widening, she spun around, only belatedly remembering to grab her mask and pull it on, on her way to peek through the spy hole.

                          Right outside in the hallway were four figures; the one at the back was obviously a Wookiee with a cheap mask and cloak, the two beside it stood like more hired muscle. The figure at the front had a head so bulbous, it could only be a Gand. Worse, she recognised the Gand; he was the second highest bidder.

                          “Dren,” she muttered as she stepped back and started pushing the table in front of the door. “We’ve got guests.”


                          • #14
                            Eddic wasn't so absorbed in his own predicament or so blind that he didn't pick up on a dodge when he heard one. He frowned, wondering what his old friend was holding back. He supposed given that he'd ducked out without much explanation only to reunion with her pulling his eema out of the freezer that he didn't have much room to pry. Though, he probably would. But not now, there'd be time enough to feel her out about the past, best focus on the present for now. He heard the sound of tearing and found something pressed into his hand. The Guardian felt the rough, crumbley texture as the smell his his nostrils. His stomach growled in response as though the bar was a steak dinner.

                            The bar disappeared quickly and having food in his stomach felt good, even if he felt as though he could eat about another twenty of those rations. He nodded at the directions to the clothes and edged his way over cautiously.

                            "Yeah, no peeking. Got to preserve my lily white virtue, after all." He felt out the clothes figuring out where the fronts of everything were and began to change clothing. The noise at the door startled him, it had been a while since anybody was able to sneak up on him from another room. If his head had been on straight, he might have known before they even hit the hall. The former cop continued with his clothes but pulled a face and asked over his shoulder, "Armed guests?"

                            "How many?" he continued. He tugged on his belt and his hand drifted down to the lightsaber that hung there. Being blindfolded wouldn't have been a problem but now. He could go through the motions but without the guidance behind it...

                            "What's our options, Mag?" he inquired. "There any other way out here or are we going to have to go through these guys?"


                            • #15
                              “Since when has your virtue been lily white? That the Jedi’s work?” Mag teased as she pushed the table up firmly against the door. It wasn’t much; it was flimsy and cheap, and it wouldn’t hold up to much of a shove. Maybe they’d trip and impale themselves on some splinters, though.

                              A heavy hand knocked again at the other side. Swearing under her breath, she stretched over the small table to peek through the eyehole again. The Gand was waving a bit of paper at her that looked a lot like the permit she’d had to buy just to bid on Eddic. Somehow, she doubted it was so innocent.

                              “Yeah,” she sighed as she pulled the table back and started pulling the nearest bed over instead. “I’d say the chances that they’re armed is pretty high. Four. Two humanoid, a posh Gand and a Wookiee.”

                              Muttering another swear, she looked around the room, taking stock of their surroundings. There really wasn’t much to work with.

                              “We’ve got a window, and we’ve got some ceiling tiles we can probably shift out of the way. Either way, you’re gonna need to start feeling spry pretty damn soon.”