In her quarters, Raze sat down at her desk and held the Krayt Dragon pearl in her hands. It was a very large specimen, but there was something about it that gave it a quality above the other two she had seen. She was not an expert on jems, especially pearls, but she wasn't going to just punt this one off to the first jem dealer she came across. She'd keep it for a while.

She took one last look at it, then put it in her safe (a hidden safe that only Zam and she knew where it was or how to access it). Then she started on a log entry.

The date and time were announced and she started to record.

"We've picked up a paying passenger in addition to our cargo. The alien that had attacked us and that we had restrained in the sick bay. Turns out that Bif and Ulim could understand him a little bit and he just wanted a ride to Utapau. He's called Otaktay, and he's paid for his passage with a...." She paused. Probably not a good idea to actually say she had a Krayt Dragon pearl on board, in the unlikely case they got boarded by hostiles. "...trinket he had acquired. Tried to give us some polished animal skulls, too, but I told him that wouldn't be necessary. Fortunately, Otaktay understands Basic, he just can't speak it. Guess his vocal cords are sort of like a Wookiee's, but his language is a lot harder to understand that Shyriiwook. So I asked Travis if he could come up with some sort of portable translator for Otaktay, so he wouldn't have to keep typing everything he wanted to say on that wrist translator device he has. Asked John to set him up in one of the two rooms we had..."

She paused and closed her eyes. "Crap. Flick. Damn girl's so quiet and invisible most of the time... Sure hope John didn't forget like I did that we only have one free room available. 'Cause that could be a real mess."

She shook her head. "Anyway, Ulim's contacts came through with some Imperial hotspots, so Zam's plotted our course to avoid them. We only have to drop out of hyperspace three times, he tells me, and we should be arriving in Coruscant in two days."

She took a deep breath. "Can't say I'm looking forward to going there. Especially to the Invisec where we're supposed to drop the cargo. We need to get a permit somehow so we can land there. I'll have to give that some more thought." She snorted. "Sure would be handy to know how to do those Jedi mind tricks about now," she joked. "That would be one way to get our permit without any...."

"Hear me...." said a soft whispery voice from behind.

Raze whipped her head around to see who had said it. But there was no one. "Who's there?" She listened a moment more, but heard nothing further. She shrugged, and went back to her log.

"That reminds me," she continued her log entry. "Zam said he had a weird feeling about our 'special' cargo. A feeling of doom, I think he said. John and Rita agreed, too, that it was... odd. But it's just a plain, sealed crate. Nothing too spectacular to look at. I certainly don't see any problem with it, but I had them separate it from the rest of the cargo and place it closer to the airlock, just in case. If it does turn out to be something 'bad', at least it won't take much to jetison it. Would mean we'd lose out on our payment, but... the crew's more important to me."

Zam's message came over the intercom. They were underway.

"End log," Raze said.

She stretched her arms over her head. "I'm hungry. Time for a snack."

Opening the door to her cabin, she was greeted with the sight of Travis fleeing from flying ice cubes. She shook her head. "I don't even want to know," she murmured as she went to make herself a snack from the galley in the common room.

Ulim ignored Sage's sarcastic comment, partly because he wasn't good with sarcasm, and asked Flack "Are you going to make Gizak soup anytime soon, Flack?"

Zam stood up from his seat, When the ship was in hyperspace it didn't need a pilot, it was just going in a strait line. Zam stretched out and pushed a few buttons to lock out the console, Normally he wouldn't do it but with a passenger on board it was best not to take a risk. Zam turned and walked out of the Cockpit and into the common room, Raze was by the Gally station making somthing to eat. Zam walked over to the table just behind her and sat down at it. "So what's happnin' Cap'n."

Raze looked down at the salad she was attempting to put together, then frowned. "I'm not entirely sure," she said, as she slowly lifted the fork so that it hovered above the bowl. A glob of something that used to be crisp dropped from the end of the fork. "Think it got frozen?" she asked him. Then she realised it probably wasn't the salad Zam was asking about.

"Oh. Things. Happening things. Well...." She pushed the salad bowl aside, deciding that it was better to leave any food preparation to Flick, who was good at it. "I need to think of a way to get a permit so we can land in the Invisec without hassle. You got any ideas?"

"Hey hey! Easy with the ice! This stuff is sharp -- don't wanna punch a hole in my pretty face, do you?" Travis exclaimed as he caught the first ice chunk. In answer to his question, another handful of ice was sent flying at him.

"Alright, I'm leaving! Jeeze!" he dashed off down the hall, brushing small bits of ice off his jacket, mumbling to himself. "Must be her special time of the month..."

"I don't know, but hey if worse comes to the worse you could always charm the Space traffic controller, Obviously if it's a lady i could try... then again if it's a lady you could still try." Zam suggested. "It didn't stop you before."

Raze arched an eyebrow as she fondly recalled the incident Zam was referring to. "True," she said absently. Coming back to her senses, she shook off the thought and cleared her throat. "But, I think this will require a bit more than just 'charm'. We're talking Stormtroopers here, Zam, not your run of the mill Imps. They use that sector for 'practice,' and I don't want to end up as one of their targets."

She brightened as an idea suddenly coming to her. "What we need to do is try to get someone else's permit, then customise it to match our ship." She turned to Zam. "When we get closer to Coruscant, scan the area for any other freighters. There's bound to be one going to that area, or at least close to it. Maybe we can 'charm' them into letting us 'borrow' their permit for a while."

Ulim ignored Sage's sarcastic comment, partly because he wasn't good with sarcasm, and asked Flack "Are you going to make Gizak soup anytime soon, Flack?"

"Yeah, sure," she said absent-mindedly. "By the way, do you know how we picked up that big guy back there?"

Travis went over a list in his head.

Flick - hates me. Ulim - doesn't like me. Zam - hates me. Bugman - wants to kill me. Raze - hates me, but won't admit it. Rita - hates me. Not a bad job on my part.

He ran a hand through his hair as he paused in the corridor, leaning against the locked door behind him; the locked door to his room. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket (any clue what those are in SW? <.<) he lit it and stuck it between his lips, taking a deep pull. Holding the smoke for a moment, he allowed his mind to wander.

No one had ever gotten close to him -- he would never allow it. Why? Who the hell knows? Sure, he didn't mind having a one night stand now and then, but to get himself into any kind of attachments that weren't of the buisness nature was unacceptable.

The smoke blew slowly through his lips, and the back of his fist collided with the keypad next to his door. The lock clicked open, and he stepped inside, closing it behind him.

He collapsed into the make-shift hover chair he kept near the door, skidding himself across the floor and pulling over to the workbench stationed against the wall. Pulling his blaster from the holster at his hip, he clicked the safety off and tossed it on the bruised, marked surface. The hydrospanner whirred to life in his hands.

Beginning to pull apart the outer shell of the weapon, he put magnifying goggles on, switched on the power, and swung the lenses over his eyes.

Machines and electronics were so simple to deal with. If you connected a wire here, such and such a result would occur. Replace a power coupling there, and a different reaction happened. Completely predictable. And completely different from any sentinet being he had ever met.

You never knew what the reaction to a set of words might be. Admittedly, he was fairly good at...persuading people -- whether it was a girl in a cantina or a junk-dealing duros -- but actually communicating with them was completely different and increasingly more difficult.

Take Raze, for example. Round an hour ago, he had saved her life, knocked out the bugman, restrained said bugman, and built a working translator for aformentioned bug man. Here he was now, and she still hated him. Alright, maybe that was a bad comparison. Maybe Raze had known him too long -- maybe everyone on the Eclipse had known him too long.

His plans began unfolding in his head, taking shape as his fingers nimbly teased the guts of the blaster to take the form he wanted. Blue wire here, green there. Transfer power to these, re-weld this. Clean nozzle here, sharpen concentration there. Easy. Understandable. Logical.

Just the way he liked it.

Pulling a cigarette from his pocket (any clue what those are in SW? <.<) .

(Death sticks. Merry Chrismas everyone)

John returned to his room which was, like always, in a complete state. John had cans, parts and other useless objects which complete covered most of the floor. Although it was mesy, John had sorted the piles of rubbish into groups (Cans in one section, parts in another,ect.) and had a path leading from his door to his bed.

"Well i can say that probably wouldn't work as getting authorrization to land on coruscat from a dealer would probably cost 50k, or goods and servises equal, and we ain't got the goods and unless you want to hand over a crew mem..." Zam stopped himself as a grim came across his face. "Hey you could give them Travis!"

((Merry christmas from the comical Zabrak))

Raze stared at Zam. “They’d likely open fire on us if we did that,” she said to him. “Besides, we need Travis. I think his skills will come in handy for what I’m thinking of doing. I don’t want to buy someone’s permit. Just ‘borrow’ one for a few hours. Travis could make a copy of it, then alter it to reflect our ident code and a fake cargo of… I don't know, Trandoshan food packs or something. Then when the Imps make contact with us, we could get Ulim to play ‘captain’. Even if they think there is something wrong with the permit, I’m sure, with a little behind the scenes coaching from you and me, we could convince them that he’s just some trader from a backwater planet that got his permit application mixed up. And since he doesn’t look remotely human, they’d believe him.” She grinned. “You know how biased the Empire is against non-humans. They think we’re all stupid and incapable.” She snorted with amusement. “Remember how that Imp on Nubia reacted when I cut my hand during that fight in the cantina and he suddenly realised I had green blood?” She chuckled at the thought. “I thought only Falleen could change their skin that colour that quickly!”

"Damn!" Travis hissed to himself as a spark caught the edge of his fingertip, searing the skin. He finished putting the blaster back together, made sure it was in proper working order again, then pulled the goggles from his head to examine the burn. It was small, but didn't look so good. He growled profanities to himself for a moment before replacing his gloves on his hands and striding out the door.

He moved out into the common room, glowering at Zam when he entered. The pilot cracked one wise remark and, in his current mood, Travis would be sure he recieved a nice slug across the face for it. The gunner grabbed a cup of caffa.

When he noticed that the other two had dropped silent upon his arrival, he eyed them both. "What?"

((Maybe it's a bit late, but...Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone ^.^))

Raze looked at Travis, then shrugged. "Nothing," she said. "Just taking a little break...." She paused for a moment. "So, making up a translator, saving the captain's life... it's been a busy day for you, Ace." She reached in her pocket and pulled out a credit chip which she tossed to him. "Here. Your share of the cut for our 'extra special' cargo."

(It'll be more than he was expecting, as Raze has given him a bit extra for saving her life.)

Travis snatched the chip out of the air, studying it. He looked to Raze, back to the chip, and then back to Raze again. Raising an eyebrow he took a sip of caffa before speaking.

"Was the seventeen-thousand just an estimate, or is our gracious captain feeling especially generous today?" he asked, a slight hint of sarcasm underlying his tone.

He was surprised, to say the least. This was a lot of credits he held in his hand -- far more than he had expected.

Raze shrugged nonchalantly. She wasn't about to go all mushy and grateful to Travis in front of Zam. That would just boost Travis' already over-inflated ego to new and unmanageable heights.

"Travis," she said to him, "you should know by now that I never pay more than what something's worth, and that I always pay my debts. Just think of it as a back payment for 'services rendered.' Of course," she added, tongue in cheek, "if you think you've been overpaid, I'll be quite happy to go over my figures again...."

"Oh no, no need to do that! Really! It's quite sufficient, thank you. I'm so glad we have such a generous and noble captain, it really makes things easier and a lot more pleasant around here..." he interjected quickly, slipping the credits into his pocket.

“Travis?” Raze gave him a deadpan stare. “I believe that’s enough ingratiation for one day.” She turned to Zam and gave him his credit chip, then she looked around.

“Ok, guys, so we’re in hyperspace. We’ve got a galley, we’ve got supplies and food…” She stared down at the salad in the bowl in front of her (which wasn’t looking too great.) “…sort of. We’ve got a table, and chairs, and utensils. So, theoretically, all the raw materials are present to gather the crew for dinner so I can pay the rest of them.” She looked at Zam, then at Travis. “All we're missing is our cook. Anyone seen Flick?”

"I would say she's in her room but I'm not sure which one that is," replied John, due to his good nature he would offer to cook something but he knew he was a terrible cook.

"Erm...John? Did you know which one it was when you showed our guest Otaktay to his quarters?" Raze asked tentatively. "Oh please say 'yes'," she added in a whisper, looking with pleading eyes upwards for any of the multitudinal divities she'd heard mention of to step in and intervene.

"Well she changes her room like I find myself fixing Rita's simulator." John said sitting down "However Sepertist quarters were never designed to be comfy."

"So then that's why the bugman was in her room..." Travis murmured, as if thinking out loud.

Raze blanched. "Oh kriffin' hell...." she swore under her breath. "What happened?" She looked at Travis. "And what did you do?"

Not wanting to be involved in the arguement which could go on, John quickly darted to the Kitchen area to get himself a beer.

Travis looked apalled. "Wha - what did I do?? I'm insulted that you could even insinuate that I had--"

He broke off as he caught Raze's glare.

"Alright, first off, I'm swearing under pain of starvation that I did absolutely nothing." he said, holding up a guarding hand, "Alls I did was go in there and give the bugman his translator. He wigged out, fired off this ice grenade thing, and got himself frozen to the wall. Next thing I know, I'm running down the corridor, dodging ice chunks."

Leaning in conspiritorally, he continued in a murmur, "I hope he's been 'fixed' 'cause he seemed pretty...interested in our cook."

Raze slowly closed her eyes. "Oh, great. Just great." She opened her eyes and looked at Travis. "Wonderful. Terrific." She smiled briefly, although disingenously, at him. "So, you're telling me that we're doomed to eating those horrible paperboard-tasting food packs because our passenger has developed an 'interest' in our cook? Fantastic."

She looked down at the salad bowl, then groaned. She walked over to the com port on the wall and punched it hard with her hand. "Oh,Fli-ick!" she said pleasantly sing-song into the ship-wide com. "Time to go to work!"

She released the button. "If she doesn't get her in five minutes, I'm sending Rita after her."

"Yeah, sure," she said absent-mindedly. "By the way, do you know how we picked up that big guy back there?"

"He's a new passanger who's paying his way offworld to go to Utapau, after the assignment of course." Ulim said to Flack.

"Oh, okay," Flick said.

"Oh, Fli-ick!" Raze's voice sang through the comm. "Time to go to work!" Flick darted away without another word and slid silently into the common room, where she discovered Raze's salad sitting on the table. Holding the bowl at eye level, she started picking through the contents with the fork, an peculiar expression on her face.

"Ya didn't actually try to eat this, did ya?" Flick said to no one in particular, as she headed towards the galley. She tossed the salad down the garbage chute and bent over to check the roast in the oven. Just a few more minutes... she decided.

Pulling an assortment of greens and vegetables from the refrigerator, Flick threw together another salad, then grabbed a stack of plates and a handful of eating utensils and went to set the table, making an extra place for the passenger in case he woke up and decided to show himself. She took the roast from the oven and transferred it deftly from the pan to a large platter, then cut about half of it into neat slices, and brought both it and the salad to the table.

"Going to eat, or just drink?" she yelled over her shoulder to John.

Travis looked at Raze with mock horror. "Not Rita, anyone but Rita!!" he gasped before becoming abruptly serious, "We wouldn't have any food for a week at least."

Now that the meal was ready, Flick wanted the question that had been brewing in her mind answered.

"Not Rita what?" she asked suspiciously over Travis's shoulder.

As John darted over to the kitchen obviously trying to avoid the oncoming uncortable situation Zam smiled. "Hey get us one of those." he asked Noticing John was going to the alcohol fridge( Every Ship of mercenaries needs one).

John threw Zam a beer, and when Zam caught it John pulled a beer out for himself and returned to the table where he awaited the roast.

"Yeah, 'not Rita what', Travis?" Rita said, as she sauntered into the common room, grabbed herself a Jawa beer from the cooler, and sat down at the table next to Travis. She put her arm around his shoulder. "Have you been badmouthing me 'cause I've tied your high score on the sim unit?" She looked at Raze. "Would have beaten it, too, if someone hadn't interrupted me to tell me about our new passenger." She looked around the table, noticing the empty place setting. "Speaking of which, where is he, Cap'n?" She snorted. "Doesn't he eat regular food?"

"Maybe he isn't here because he thought you were serving it," Raze said, poking fun at Rita's past job as a waitress.

"Ha, ha," Rita replied dryly, then she poked her tongue out at Raze.

"Or maybe he prefers his food a bit more... 'rare'," Raze suggested, looking at the perfectly cooked roast. She herself avoided eating cooked flesh, but that was more to personal preference rather than any cultural or genetic predispositions.

"What, you mean, 'rare' as in live?" Rita grimaced.

Raze shrugged. "Well... yeah. It's not uncommon you know. And I'm not sure what his species is like. Never seen his kind before."

"Well, he's missing out on a great dinner," Rita said, as she began to load up her plate with food. "Smells great, Flick."

"Speaking of our guest and Flick...," Raze started. She looked at Flick. "Has our guest decided to move into your room, or...?" She raised a suggestive eyebrow, wondering if Flick had a 'thing' going with Otaktay, or if Travis had just been pulling her leg again.

Ulim stared at Sage for a moment before saying "You'll have to forgive Travis. He can tend to be... rash and firery at times like Rita, though cruder. I just ignore him."

Then he left Sage and went to the common room where everyone seemed to be gathering and listened to the conversation that was ensuing.

"Speaking of our guest and Flick...," Raze started. She looked at Flick. "Has our guest decided to move into your room, or...?" She raised a suggestive eyebrow, wondering if Flick had a 'thing' going with Otaktay, or if Travis had just been pulling her leg again.

"Travis has a perverse mind." Ulim simply stated as he interjected into the conversation and then asked Flack as he noticed the roast "No Gizak soup or pie?"

"ulim that's a domn lie." Zam said as if he was defending Travis. "You seem to be suggesting he actually has a brain to have a perverse mind."

Travis leaned over to smack Zam in the back of the head. "Aha, aha, so funny. Honestly, Zam, some might think you actually had two brain cells to rub together that joke was so damn funny!"

Otak had been out for a decent amount of time before the sense of hunger had grown stronger than the want to sleep. He had missed what Ulim had said to him because he was incapasitated at the moment.

But the tantalizing scent of food hit him, and it was sufficient to wake him up. He got up, scratching the back of his neck. He switched to Thermal Vision, no one there, then to Tech Vision, no hybrid. But in this vision mode he easily found the light switch, which he flicked on. He went back to normal sight, and looked around, he felt better, because, as was common with his species, he could regain alotta energy, from less rest than expected to regain that amount of energy.

He pressed the button to open the door, and followed the ol'factory organ to the source of the smell. He soon entered the common room, everyone was there, well, mostly everyone, Bif wasn't there. He took a quick survey to see what he was up against, incase his payment wasn't enough to sate the 'brusque' crews needs.

There was Travis, the captain Raze, another girl, another guy - a zabrak, the hybrid, Ulim, and the overcautious guy, John. Otak grunted as he thought and calculated in his head. The crew seemed to be well into their meal, not seeming to care whether he would wake up from an unconcious state or not. He took only a few strides, and he was at the table, though he stayed in the background a bit, so as not to attract attention. No one really noticed him yet either, not a surprise though, he was a natural born predator, being silent and unknown were all too natural to him.

He saw the roast and sniffed, it smelled nice, but he was more in the mood for something sweet to replenish his energy and blood. He wanted some....S'pke, he hadn't had, or made any S'pke in awhile. Though he would take some roast, so as not to be impolite, after all, he was the guest, and it would be rude not to enjoy something others made that was meant to be used or eaten by all.

Otak decided to ask permission to use the galley to his needs first. He circled around the table, until he stood behind Raze. He silently stepped up between where Raze was sitting, and the the person seated to her right was sitting and crouched down until his head was level with hers. He looked at her and leaned towards her a bit, but not so close as to cause her any amount of discomfort. He let out a light, quiet clicking-growl, which at that audible level, almost sounded like a cat purring; so as to get Raze's attention without causing the others to take any heed to him.

He only hoped that he didn't cause her to freak, seeing as how she was wrapped up in conversing with her crew, and so far he had remained rather unseen. With him suddenly appearing next to her, well, he could only hope she wouldn't have a heart attack.

Raze heard Otak before she sensed him next to her. She flinched a little at his surprise entry, but didn't overreact. She looked at him askance.

"Nice of you to join us, Otaktay," she said to him. "I take it Travis' translator is working alright for you?" She motioned to the empty chair. "We've set a place for you. You are welcome to join us if you like."

"Yeah," said Rita. "We were just discussing Zam's unique geneology of only having two brain cells to rub together."

"Physiology," Raze corrected. "Geneology is the study of someone's line of descent."

"Well, he had to have inherited it from someplace," Rita countered, grinning mischievously.

"Let's not take the 'family' route, shall we? For the sake of our guest, can we just try to keep the conversation polite for a change?" Raze cautioned, not wanting for the conversation to get ugly. She turned again to Otak. "I don't believe you've been formally introduced to Rita. She's one of our turret gunners, a Corellian, and resident smartmouth."

Rita grinned sardonically. "Well, someone has to keep you on your toes." She waved her fingers at Otak. "Hello."

"And this is Zam," Raze introduced, nodding to the Zabrak sitting next to her. "Our pilot and first officer. If you've got a problem and I'm not around, you can talk to him and he'll get you sorted."

She motioned again to the empty chair. "Please, sit down. Join us."

"Though if it's a problem with me," Travis spoke up, "And you'd like to kill me, don't ask him for permission. He'll just say yes and that'll get you into far more trouble than you're looking for." he glanced at Rita, "It's happened before."

Otak twitched slightely as he realized he forgot the translator in the hybrid's room.

Otak stared over at Raze as she introduced people, the first was the girl, called Rita, who was a Corellian. Otak jerked more noticably at the mention of a Corellian, it's not that he had anything against them, no, on the contrary, Corellians could be very pleasant to be around...when not drunk. But he had an enormous bounty on Corellia, actually, his face, or image was obscure, but they knew who he was in most respects. Otak had also done many things on Corellia, and to it's people, that would cause some or most Corellians to blanch, so Otak decided then and there not to tell of his exploits on Corellia around her.

Otak bowed his head politely in recognision towards Rita when she waved. Otak went back to paying attention to Raze, where she introduced Zam, the pilot and first officer. Otak bowed his head towards Zam as well, and decided that he better not let him take a gander in his trophy sack, he didn't know how he'd react to seeing four zabrak skulls polished and cleaned like...trophies!

After that Travis said something snide, but Otak tuned it out, and acted like Travis wasn't even there, or better yet, he pretended Travis's headless corpse was in the chair, instead of Travis himself.

Otak again turned his attention to Raze, who mentioned a seat, he didn't want to be impolite, but he'd rather not eat with anyone. He knew that if the others saw his face, well, it'd just cause more problems, of both disrespect towards him, escpecially on Travis's part, and in other aspects. Though his face looked similar to Ulims', his face was still, different, very...unliked, and even from a Yautja's perspective his face wasn't good looking, what with all the scars and burn marks, and the tattoos, and the enormous scar on his eye, and the list goes on.

Otak shook his head to indicate that it wasn't needed. He then decided to change the subject quickly, so that she wouldn't have time to be offended, if she would be or not.

Otak motioned to the galley and signed, rather well, that he wished to use the galley, and make something for himself. As he waited for Raze to understand his hand signals, he stood up a bit and reached across the table and grabbed the plate set for him. He got a slice of the roast, though it wasn't to his prefferance, which was in the range of rare/medium-rare, and got some side items as well.

When he was done he set the plate down and waited for Raze's reply.

Raze's brow wrinkled slightly, and then smoothed with understanding. "Oh... I get it. You're shy." When he motioned to the galley, she said, "Sure, that's fine. Help yourself to whatever's there. You're our guest. No need to ask anyone's permission to use any of the common facilities. And you can eat anywhere you want to." She glanced at Ulim. "But the invitation to join us is still open. Everyone here is sort of used to seeing articulated mandibles by now. Doesn't bother us in the least." She grinned tongue in cheek. "Now, Rita eating barbequed nerf ribs with extra sauce...well...."

Rita, in the middle of chewing a large piece of roast meat, suddenly paused and looked up from her plate with an incredulous look. "Wha' esha'chlee are oo sane?" she mumbled with her mouth still full. ((OOC: Translation without a full mouth: "What exactly are you saying?"))

Raze shook her head, then looked at Otak. "See? Doesn't even bear thinking about," she said softly.

Otak bowed his head towards Raze to thank her, then stood up and walked to the galley. He started searching around for the untesils he'd need, he found some he needed, and some that weren't, but could still be used. He kept searching till he he found as many of the ingrediants that he could, most of it was fruit.

He took some time to figure out how to use the galley's equipment, before he started, he didn't want to mess up and waste food. After time he was preparing his S'pke, the sweet aroma filling the room. To Yautja children S'pke was sometimes a treat, to adults it was a rarely served meal, to Yautja in need of quick energy replacement, or medical help, S'pke was a great salve, but to humans, it would probably be more of a dessert.

Otak stood by, stirring, checking, and waiting for it to finish. After a little more preparation it was done. He turned everything off and took a nice big sniff of the fruit stew. He searched around till he found the bowls, he took out a stack and then pulled out a small pot. He filled the pot, then taking the large pot he had cooked the S'pke in, he set it in an open place at the table for them to debate over eating the rest or not. He decided that if they didn't eat it, it'd be their fault for wasting the food, not his. He also left the bowls out for them to use incase they dared to eat the S'pke.

Honestly Otak couldn't really cook much else, though he had to learn to cook some meals for himself when he was on the hunt alone, as he often used to be. So the cook of the roast in question didn't have to worry about their position.

Otak, with pot of S'pke in hand, went and got his plate, and with this he bowed his head to Raze one more time to say thanks and to excuse himself, and he quickly vacated the visinity. He walked down the hall, and went past the room he came out of, it would be rude to eat in a room not rightfully his. He kept going till he wondered into a large room that didn't look like anyone was in it. Though there were plenty of crates and boxes, he thought that no one would mind him eating in here.

He took a seat on a particularly large crate, with some kinda message on it, and though he understood basic better than most humans even, he sure couldn't read it. He took no heed and set the food down on the crate next to where he sat. He grabbed his mask, and with a sigh he plied it off. He blinked twice, he had gone from photoreseptic vission to red light sectral vision, his natural vision; it was similar to infrared, only a little less detailed, and it also meant he could see red, orange, and yellow light better than most other creatures. But he could see in photoreseptic vission if he focused his pupils to dilate smaller, and take in less red light and more of every other light.

He did this, and looked around once more before picking the plate up and eating roast, and though it wasn't cooked to his liking, it was still rather good.

"Anyway, let's try to have a dicussion over the dinner table which doesn't envolve Rita and Raze yelling at each other or Zam and Travis snapping at each other," John said as he started to eat his meal. " Because the first time it's funny, maybe the thrid, the fourth it get's to be annoying and a year later it's just drives you up the wall."

“Wha’?” Rita swallowed what remained in her mouth. “Yell? John, I don’t yell. I just speak in a vociferous manner,” she stated.

Raze nearly choked on her blue milk. “Vociferous? Now where did you pick up that word?”

“Corellian Times,” Rita replied. “I've got a holonet subscription. Vociferous was number 10 down in the crossword last week.”

“Well, Rita, I’m impressed. I didn’t know you even knew how to read, let alone do the crossword.”

Rita beamed proudly. “Well, Cap'n… now you know.”

“Learn something new everyday,” Raze said in amazement. “Well, since John wants us to change the subject, how about we change it to the reason we’re all here in the first place? Money.” She pulled out some credit chips. “I’ve split up what we’ve got up front from Phee according to your shares. I’ve already paid Zam and Travis, so….” She began to pass the chips out. “Ulim, thanks for getting that info on the Imp activity. Let’s hope your friends are accurate. Flick, wonderful meal, as always. And, sorry about the mixup with your room and our ‘guest’. John, thanks for keeping the ship maintained. We wouldn’t be flying it without your mechanical expertise. And, last but not least, Rita, who we all have to thank for getting us this ‘special’ cargo we’re carrying.

“And on that note, I should probably tell those of you who don’t know already,” she looked at Ulim and then Flick, “there is a crate in the cargo bay that is separated from the rest of our cargo. That crate is the ‘special’ package we’re to deliver… and getting paid 50,000 for the pleasure of doing so. I don’t want anyone touching it, moving it, shaking it, or…” She glared at Rita. “…using it for target practice.”

“Oh, you’re just never going to let me live that down, are you?” Rita complained. “For Galaxy’s sake, Cap’n, it was just one box. And it was just full of wobbly headed dolls anyway.”

Just then, an empty cooking pan in the galley fell and clattered noisly to the deck. Everyone looked in its direction.

“Well," Raze said, breaking the silence that had ensued and quickly dismissing the incident as a mere accident. "I can assure you that this crate, or any of the others for that matter, isn’t filled with wobbly headed dolls. Not for a 50,000 credit delivery fee. Anyway, back to the job….

“We’re delivering our cargo to Coruscant, the Invisec in particular--which means we’ll need a permit. The plan is that when we get closer to the Coruscant trade lanes to scan for any freighters going in that direction. We’ll ‘borrow’ their landing permit, and Travis…?” She looked at him. “You and Bif will need to alter it to reflect our ident codes and destination, and a cargo of Trandoshan food packs. Shouldn’t be much of a problem for a man of your inherent talents.

“Once we get to Coruscanti space, we’ll be contacted by Imperial Flight Control. That’s when I’m assigning Ulim to be ‘acting captain.’”

“Captain?” Rita asked. “Why Ulim? Why not John? Or me?”

“Because you’re human,” Raze stated plainly. “And it would be slightly suspicious for a human looking captain to be delivering goods to the Invisec.” She paused as she recalled the last time she had been to that sector—and the misery she had seen. “It’s where the Empire likes to ‘contain’ all of their ‘visibly non-human’ citizens,” she added, sounding a bit sad.

“Anyway, Ulim looks the part and I’ll still need Zam to be the first officer. Even if there is a problem with our permit, I’m sure with a little ‘behind the scenes’ coaching, Ulim can convince the Imps to let him land. They don’t like dealing with non-humans and will likely just let him pass rather than go through the hassle of boarding and inspecting the ship.

“Once we’ve landed, I’ll make contact with Phee’s client while you all unload the cargo. And as soon as it’s offloaded, we’re leaving. The Invisec isn’t the place to be hanging around or sightseeing. Plus, there’ll be a lot of stormtroopers in the area.” Again she paused, and her brow wrinkled slightly as she was reminded of another sad memory.

“And we’ve got our paying passenger, too. He’s wanting to go to Utapau, so if we happen to pass close to it on our way to Coruscant, we’ll drop him off. If not, we’ll drop him off after the job is done, and that’s another reason why we’re not hanging around. I don’t want any ‘misunderstandings,’ like the one we had with him, happening on Coruscant. That’s just an invitation for disaster.

“So,” she asked, looking at everyone in turn, “anyone have any questions, comments, or concerns? ‘Cause if you do, now is the time to voice them.”

Travis raised his hand. "Sooo....we can't even peek in the crate?"

Raze gave Travis a dubious look. "Let me guess... you were the type of kid that lifted the corners off the wrapping paper to peek at your Life Day presents, then resealed them so no one would notice, right?" She glared at him. "No. Peeking. In. The. Crate. Is that clear? I don't know what's in it. I don't want to know what's in it. And, as long as it's not going to explode, I don't care what's in it. All I care about is delivering it and getting paid. What happens to it from there on in, is not my problem."

In the galley, another pan and its lid suddenly clattered to the floor.

Raze looked over her shoulder, watching as the lid spun like a top on the metal floor of the deck until it finally came to rest. "One pan falling, an accident. Two, not." She then frowned slightly with confusion. "We're in hyperspace. We shouldn't be experiencing any turbulence from space debris." She looked at John, then Travis. "Hyperdrive vibrations?" she suggested.

Travis shrugged. "If it was, I don't think vibrations would reach here, to the galley. It might just be bugman...unless we have a gizka problem again..."

He sat back in his chair, swirling his beer. "But I wonder...what if that crate's full of the finest cognacs and the rarest spice...that'd be interesting, eh?"

Raze considered for a moment. "Alcohol, maybe," she agreed. "But Barrus Phee's never been one for spice. He considers it 'beneath' him. 'Unworthy of my time and attention,' he once said to me. No, Phee's more into the 'finer' things in life--art, antiques, artefacts, jewels. If you really want my opinion on what's in the box," she mused, "I'd say it's some sort of archaeological artefact. You know, like a statue or something. Simple box, heavy, no markings. That would be just like Phee to have smuggled something discretely bound for a museum exhibit into the hands of a private collector."

She looked at Travis then. "You drink cognac?" she asked, somewhat surprised.

He shrugged. "Not exactly like I can afford it all the time, but I grab a glass where I can. Force knows my tastes have been marred by this...erm...delicious Corellian brandy..." he murmured. Pausing a moment, the gunner looked up at Raze. "Why, do you?"

Otak must have been hungry, because he was already done with the roast and the S'pke. He set the pot and plate on the floor next to the crate he sat on, and got up. He looked around, he noticed the crate was seperate from the others, and closer to the loading ramp, he wondered why.

He turned and examined the crate, something pulled on him, tugged at his conciousness, something in him said 'look at it, peek inside!' Yet unknowly he knew this wasn't his real thought, but for now it was all he needed to get curious about it.

He moved in for a closer look, it was a crate...nothing special, but all senses and insticts said otherwise. He traced the letters on the sign with his fingure, he wondered what it said? No matter, he leaned his face close to one of the box cracks, he smelled something cold, though he wasn't sure, the ship was cold in general, yet it seaped out of the crack.

He defocused his vision and went back into his natural vision, he peeked in the crack, but it was too closely shut to see anything within. He refocused his eyes and straighted up. He paced around the crate, something wouldn't let him leave it, until he knew what was inside, but he knew better than to open something that wasn't his.

He studied it once more, a simple crate, but the easiest place to hide something was either in plain sight or in the simplest place. He crouched down and put his hands under one end of the crate and with his reviving strength he lifted the crate up on that end. It was heavy...very heavy, like a solid object was inside. He leaned down to peek underneath, but he found nothing, no markings, no special area to peek inside from. He slowly let the crate down, he made sure his feet were out of the way before letting it down all the way, but when he let go, he found a pain going from his foot through out his body. He looked down, and found the crate on his toes...which was odd because he knew for certain he had moved his feet away.

He felt a definate tingling on the back of his neck, which was an instinct indicating something wasn't right, perhaps even dangerous. He pulled his foot from under the crate and sat down on the crate and rubbed it, as he wrinkled his brow in frustration, he heard himself laughing at his crushed toes in his head, yet, again it wasn't his own thought, but he didn't know.

He stood up quickly, jerking around this way and that, he looked around the room, no one in sight. He turned to the crate, he knelt down and started feeling the surface with his hands, then his mask fell, it hit the ground with a loud clang, and though it was a loud noise, it wasn't loud enough to echoe through the ship, yet he heard it reverberate down the halls, even to the common room.

He stared at the mask on the ground, he was confused, his hand had barely touched the mask, yet it went flying to the floor, then again he was regaining energy, and strength, so he didn't know if he did it or not. He reach over and picked it up, but when he did so he almost halted, he weighed the mask in his hand, he turned his head back to the crate, then back to the mask. He had almost forgotten that his mask was decently weighty, it was a helmet after all.

He glanced from mask to crate over and over for quite some time. He found this, chilling, to say the most. He stared at his mask, staring at his reflection in it, slipping into thought, he was unaware of the world around him as his mind worked to put the pieces together, the only thing running through his mind that he could conjure to any great explanation was..."[Spirits]" he whispered to himself, still in his thinking trance.