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Aphelion and the Water Under the Bridge
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| Aaron_Rawls | Date: Tuesday, 18 Aug 2015, 0:00 AM | Message # 1 |
 Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 22
Status: Offline
| Aaron Rawls had made the Kessel Run, or rather, been present on his father's ship when he made the Kessel Run. Rawls had been thrown into a rancor pit. He'd faced down a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter. He had double-crossed Hutt crime lords and Neimoidian mafiosos, and fought the law from Aaeton to Outer Zznza, or so he was fond of saying. It wasn't like Aaron Rawls to be anxious, but he was perhaps more so now than he'd been in a long time.
Not that he'd show it in front of Davon, Mara, and Ransom, the four of them gathered in the galley of the Dinty Moore. By now, they all knew what had happened to him and the Aphelion. It didn't bear repeating, at this point. And no doubt, they had a good idea why he'd asked them here. But that didn't make his task any easier.
Rawls stood half-leaning, half-sitting on a kitchen counter built into the wall of the galley, his arms crossed over his chest, regarding the sabacc table and beaten-up couch where his former crew presumably sat, waiting with varying degrees of patience for Rawls to speak his long-awaited piece. He took a moment, however, simply to appreciate the fact of them all being in the same room again. There were moments on his journey when he'd doubted this would ever happen. Second chances were rare in Hutt Space, and he knew even now that he wasn't entitled to one from Davon, Mara, and Ransom.
He sighed.
"I know I'm not in charge here," he said, "I'm not your Captain. I didn't order you to come here. I asked you here because I have something to say. But it wouldn't be right, me doing all the talking. I reckon you all have things to say too—about me, what I did, and what a damn fool I was. Well, I deserve to hear it. So let's just say it all right now and get it out there so I know where everyone stands."
Aaron Rawls
Captain of the Aphelion, sort of
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| Mara_Antares | Date: Tuesday, 18 Aug 2015, 8:21 AM | Message # 2 |
 Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 39
Status: Offline
| Leroy had never bullied Mara into doing things she did not want to do. He had never forced her to do anything-their marriage was a partnership and they respected each others choices equally, whether they truly liked them or not. That was how it worked. It was how they worked. She always gave 100% and expected nothing in return, and he did the same-they were partners. But this, the meeting with Rawls, Leroy had actually insisted on. It was the first time she had ever felt like she had no say in the matter at all. Mara understood why- he wanted to keep them safe, granted, safe from a situation he himself had created, but he wanted what was best for their little family none the less. They had decided together, though, that it was best to keep their family news a secret for now.
So there she sat, on a faded sofa in the galley of an unfamiliar ship, ready to hear what Aaron Rawls had to say to them. She wasn't happy about it, but they had come with belongings, as it seemed there were no other options. None that Leroy would consider, and no others that he would tell her about, if there were any. What was worse was that she had to pick only her favorite pairs of shoes, no more than ten, and the rest she left with one of the dancers at The Cockpit for safe keeping.
"I assumed that the bruise on your jaw spoke for itself." Mara finally spoke up before she uncrossed her legs and pushed herself into a standing position. She tugged idly at the hem of her slouchy, sheer sweater, which had two form fitting tank tops underneath, as she stepped away. Not towards Rawls, but to the other side of the sabaac table, where there was a little room to pace. Her pacing, however, was oddly devoid of the familiar click clack of stiletto heels, because she was wearing a pair of completely flat slip on shoes, and leggings, also at Leroy's insistence. His reasoning had been sound. It was an unfamiliar ship, and unlike her ability to navigate any part of Aphelion in the dark in heels, he didn't want her to fall here.
"I'm sorry about that, by the way...." Mara finally said, though it still had made her feel better to do it, even if it was an irrational, emotional, and impulsive reaction to an already stressful situation.
Message edited by Mara_Antares - Tuesday, 18 Aug 2015, 5:59 PM |
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| Davon·Vanden | Date: Wednesday, 19 Aug 2015, 12:36 PM | Message # 3 |
 Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 41
Status: Offline
| "I thought it was pretty funny," a younger, Coruscanti voice picked up from across the way.
The wayward Aphelion's navigator could be located nearly one-hundred percent of the time just by following the plume of smoke. He sat in the far corner of the galley, his booted feet resting up on the dejarik table, the rest of him balanced precariously in a creaky metal chair that rested on its back two legs. He dragged pensively on the cigarette that hung in his mouth, contrails of gray smoke curling upward into a nearby ventilation shaft. His worn blazer sat neatly-folded on the table beside his boots. Beyond that his cloth was simple: a black dress shirt that was half-buttoned and a pair of slim-fitting blue trousers. Time was he had entire wardrobes filled with various suit jackets and polished boots. Rawls had managed to save some of them, but most were lost, Njon's people saw to that.
"As for what needs to be said, you know where I stand, Cap'n," he intoned quietly, inhaling another drag from his cigarette. He expelled smoke from his nostrils in a resigned sigh. "I'll rejoin the crew because you burned me, but it's gonna be a cold day in Hell before I trust you again."
He had taken Rawls' apology, if it could be called that, in stride compared to Mara. At least, he had on the surface. More than anything, the Captain's betrayal had struck deep into the boy; for a time it had shaken his foundations so thoroughly that he had fallen into melancholic alcoholism. In time he had gotten past it, managed to make the best of the bad hand he'd been dealt, only for Rawls to reemerge and try and act like they could just fit the pieces back into place. It didn't work like that, and he was sure all of them knew it, but Rawls was nothing if not optimistic.
"And," Vanden added on after a thought. "I want a larger cut than the fifteen percent I was getting. I'm thinking a clean four way split, twenty-five for each of us." There was no indication that he would back down in his tone, though Davon had always been something of a terrible negotiator, but never let it be said that he didn't try and press his luck wherever possible.
Davon Vanden
Navigator of the Aphelion
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| Lafayette_Ransom | Date: Thursday, 27 Aug 2015, 7:37 PM | Message # 4 |
 Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 27
Status: Offline
| He chuckled at the mention of Mara's punch.
"You saved my life, so you're fine by me," was all he had to say at first in response to Rawls.
He wanted to be angry like Mara; up until the death of Neese, he was angry like Mara. But Rawls had done him right, and in his book that mean something. He also had the Hutts on him like he was a snack... they would probably want to turn him into one. He also needed a new way to operate. He also needed something more solid and reliable than mercenary work now that Mara's news had been broken to him. He had not given any ground to Mara for the first time in their marriage on this matter, and it was hard for him to do so. It was what was best and more so what was necessary for them at this time, even if she couldn't see it. It appeared though, that she had come around to the idea even though she may have still been angry.
He had been standing behind the couch, and remained there when Mara walked to the other side of the room. The smell of Davon's cigarette caused him to absent-mindedly retrieve a metal tube from his vest pocket, and pull out the cigar contained within and stick in his mouth. He wouldn't light it though, not with Mara in the room. Once Davon voiced up his opinion on pay however, his ears perked up.
"I'm with Davon. even split among the crew. We keep it even if we add any more to the ship."
Lafayette "Leroy" Ransom
Bounty Hunter, Mercenary
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| Aaron_Rawls | Date: Friday, 28 Aug 2015, 1:56 AM | Message # 5 |
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Ensign
Group: Users
Messages: 22
Status: Offline
| As he listened, looking mostly at the ceiling as he did so, Rawls wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed at the business-like quality of the meet up thus far. He knew they had more to say than that. Perhaps they'd been apart too long, and there were some things they were no longer comfortable saying in front of one another. Fine. It couldn't be said of Rawls that he hadn't given them a chance to say what's on their minds.
If they wanted to talk business, he'd talk business.
"No," Rawls said, his arms still crossed over his chest as he glanced from one to the other. "25% percent goes to repair and supply, that's non-negotiable. The rest we can split evenly." Even this, he was reluctant to agree to, namely because of Mara. She'd been a mess when Rawls had first met her, on the run from a vengeful ex-boyfriend. And she'd been a friend of Kijari. He wasn't made of stone, or hadn't been then. So of course she'd been welcome on the Aphelion. But what did he pay her for? Not her cooking, that's for sure.
But he was asking a lot of her, and of Ransom. Last night at Solomon's, Davon had told him about the couple's plan to buy a bar here on Nar Shaddaa. That wasn't possible now, and the fact that she and Ransom had come here with bags packed suggested that they knew and accepted that fact. But even if Rawls felt that he was once again doing Mara a favor, he also knew that this wasn't the life she wanted for herself. And it was for this reason, more than any other, that he could agree to a share for Mara. And after all, she had helped out Doohan in the engine room from time to time, and gotten the Aphelion more than a few jobs.
"But I can do you one better," he continued. "Help me get Aphelion back, and you can be co-owners. Even split, 25% each. Or 20% if Doohan joins us. Amount of money that's gone into her, I figure each share is worth twenty or twenty-five thousand. We do a few jobs, make us some money, and I'll buy you out. Any of you, any time. All I want is right of first refusal; you don't sell to anyone but me."
50,000 credits would go a long way toward buying a bar, if not on Nar Shaddaa, then someplace else. Someplace nicer, where Mara and Ransom wouldn't have to pay protection money to a Hutt. They knew it, and Rawls knew they knew it. But he was less sure how Davon would respond. Money came and went for the boy, and he had to know in the back of his mind that a life of plenty was waiting for him on Naboo any time he wanted it (or needed it) enough. Rawls couldn't help but suspect that Davon's demand for an equal share was less about the money than it was to make a point. Rawls had ruined his life here on Nar Shaddaa, though he still felt he'd done the boy a favor.
Money had always been the raison d'être of the Aphelion and her crew, but their relationship had been based on more than simply credits. Perhaps Rawls had damaged that relationship beyond repair, or perhaps not. In either case, he wasn't proposing to buy their trust; he knew that was something he would have to earn. But the least he could do was to sacrifice something himself, considering the sacrifices he was asking of them.
"Think it over if you need to," he said, "But the sooner we're out of Hutt Space, the better. For all of us."
This last, inadvertent remark was probably the most convincing one he could make; all of them, for one reason or another, had overstayed their welcome on Nar Shaddaa. Earlier that morning, Rawls—under the guise of Warron Salas, the 'Sky Judge'—had told Njon that he'd disintegrated Neese, Ransom, and Davon's nom de plume, 'Justin Case.' It had bought them some time, but not much. The Hutt wasn't stupid, and probably suspected that something was amiss.
Aaron Rawls
Captain of the Aphelion, sort of
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| Mara_Antares | Date: Friday, 28 Aug 2015, 8:12 AM | Message # 6 |
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Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 39
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| Had Rawls voiced what he was thinking about her, Mara would have wondered if he had forgotten about Kijari teaching her how to patch them up when injured, or how she had spent hours with Doohan (granted, he was always laying under some ship part and she could not recall ever actually seeing his face), learning how to fix things if she needed to. Or how she had helped get them several jobs, since she was fairly charismatic, and well...most of it had been based on her looks. But now, not that Rawls knew, Leroy had taught her how to fight when she needed to, and she had the ability to stay on the ship and guide them through about every situation via holo and comm units, which she had done with Leroy on more than one occasion. Mara knew little about navigation and piloting, but the desire to learn had been there, and she had learned a little from Leroy on that horrible ship of his. But, as far as Rawls and Davon knew, she was still just helpless, useless Mara Antares (now Ransom), and he would be proven wrong about her if she had any say about it. While she appeared the same outwardly, she was not the same girl that they knew.
The Helios Courtesan was no longer in the back of her mind. It was obviously not to be. It wasn't that she necessarily believed in fate, or the Force, but something bigger seemed to be at work here. Everything happened for a reason. She had bigger things to worry about now, whether she wanted it or not. There was almost a twinge of guilt that she felt about the baby, which was why she kept the news between her and Leroy only. That, and there was no way that Rawls would let her on that ship if he knew, she was pretty sure of that.
"Fine." She said simply, before she dropped back down onto the couch with her arms folded across her torso. There was nothing else she really had to say to him right then and there, but she had a feeling that eventually she and Rawls would talk. It was true that she really didn't want to be there, doing this right now. And, the only reason she wasn't fighting this tooth and nail was so that she could get off of Nar Shadda, and be somewhere else- anywhere else. It was only a matter of time before she figured out a way to get out of their collective hair.
Message edited by Mara_Antares - Friday, 28 Aug 2015, 8:39 AM |
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| Davon·Vanden | Date: Saturday, 29 Aug 2015, 8:55 PM | Message # 7 |
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Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 41
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| There was a great deal of anger simmering in that room, then. Davon had always excelled at what he called 'reading a room', a trait that all smugglers needed to possess in some form. Ransom aside, nobody else in the galley seemed all that keen on being there. Davon absorbed the Captain's offer with an impassive nod, puffing aimlessly on the cigarette before he plucked it from his lips and ashed it in a nearby ashtray. "Fair enough," he assented with a sigh, exhaling smoke from his nostrils. "Seventy-five percent of our jobs, split 'tween us evenly. I can live with that."
Not like he had much of a choice, either way, but it felt better to act like he was holding all the cards. In truth, it felt in the pit of his gut more like they were just begging Rawls for scraps. They couldn't stay on Nar Shaddaa, and commercial shuttles were more easily tracked. This was the easiest, and safest, option. The fact that the air about the room felt as though a spark could ignite the entire ship, well, that was something he would have to keep an eye on. He had far too many words for the Captain to try and voice them in a casual chat such as this, much less with the others around.
"Bounty on our heads is a big one, smoke won't clear for a while," he added as an aside, finishing the cigarette with a final drag before he crushed the filter into a pile of ash. "The Anjiliac family don't play at this sort of thing. We're gonna have to put a good deal of distance between us and Hutt Space."
They knew all this, of course, but the navigator felt it needed saying. He was reluctant to leave anything hanging before they set out. A great deal of trust would need to be rebuilt, and tiptoeing around subjects was the wrong way to start. "Speaking of... you even have a lead on where the Aphelion is? It's a pretty big galaxy."
Davon Vanden
Navigator of the Aphelion
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| Lafayette_Ransom | Date: Wednesday, 02 Sep 2015, 2:05 AM | Message # 8 |
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Officer
Group: Users
Messages: 27
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| There was a reason Ransom had been so accepting of Rawls. Now was not the time or the place for revealing that reason, and that was a talk for only him and Rawls to have. His anger was still there, but it was buried deep. If anyone had need to know where he stood, it should have been noticeable that he was yet to refer to him as Captain in any conversation.
He simply nodded to the agreed split. Rawls made a valid point, and he wasn't going to argue it, and neither were the others seemingly interesting in doing so. Probably the most contentious subject possible in their affair of getting back together was surprisingly easy and straightforward. When Davon suggested it, he expected Rawls to fighting them vehemently to the old split. Instead a short counter of logic and the were at an accord.
Davon was right about there still needing to be trust built among them again, no matter what situation Rawls got them out of on Nar Shaddaa. He was obviously more prepared for the eventuality of having to leave Nar Shaddaa behind than Mara was. He truly wanted things to work out for her there, and he would have to find some way to make it up to her. Their plans for the foreseeable future were in tatters and it was truly his fault. She was safe though, and that was the important part of all of this.
His ears perked up and he abandoned his thoughts when he heard Davon ask about where they were headed. He was interested in this as well, and while he remained silent, he retrieved from his vest the beckon call for his ship. It's encrypted slave circuit would come to life and in a few minutes, it would fly to their area and land nearby.
Lafayette "Leroy" Ransom
Bounty Hunter, Mercenary
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