[u][i]Unidentified Planet, Unknown Regions - 57ABY[/i][/u]

[color=8493ca]"Sterling, Ackermann! You're up on grid K-16!"[/color]

The announcement roused the two engineers, bleary-eyed and barely rested from the last shift. Neither of them complained though, eager enough for the work even if it came at a moment's notice and usually in some shithole that would have been better to send droids into. That was almost exclusively what they were treated to on what the New Republic designated as Resource Extraction Candidate X-45574. A most glorious and inspiring name for the hundreds of people who had [i]volunteered[/i] to settle this inhospitable rock for reasons that were as varied as mind-numbing. Simon Sterling didn't blame them too much, the brutality of the Galactic Civil War and all that followed had tempted him to take up the offer as well. Gray speckled his short dark hair, this time not from plasma-cutter debris and he had started to resolve himself to taking a treatment to it, but either laziness or the idea of being seen as "experienced" killed that thought.

Joey was getting the speeder ready, a much younger man who had been born after all that chaos was just embers. He was younger than most out here, many of their fellow engineers people who had signed up because they were tired of the known galaxy and all that it entailed. Everywhere he looked, Simon could see the same faces and moods. At least here, with all the misery they had escaped the hell they knew.

[color=7bcdc8]"Hey Simon."[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Joey, remember the vane and to put the shields on a discharge cycle. Monitor hasn't notified of a change in weather over K-16 since this morning, so we need to pack the enviro-gear."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Yeah, I got the suits stored away in the boot and made sure to set the deflectors to single-pass refractive. We should be good as long as we avoid the hotspots."[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Whose turn was it to fly anyways? Was it you or me that did the run on G-38?"[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"No idea, been a bit of a rough shift since our last outing. I can fly if you want though."[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"... I think I'll just fly us this time, no need to take any chances. K-16 is always a bit moody and you don't have your advanced cert yet."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Fair enough, let's strap in and go."[/color]

---

For hours there had just been the sound of environmental suits pumping oxygen through the hardened tubes, ensuring that both men could still breathe despite the toxic miasma below and the ravaging storm above. Electromagnetic disturbances screeched and careened off the charred pillars that burst from the ground for the couple hundred square kilometers that was Grid Section K-16. Some of the others theorized them to be some kind of Pre-Republic ruins of some kind, though the last one that had been able to actually get close enough to one without getting ripped apart had commented on the strangely organic nature of them. Simon and Joey were not archeologists though, nor were they biochemists. Whatever theory there was about the tangled morass that was K-16's scorched pillars and bridges, it didn't matter to them.

No, what they were there for was the recently revealed glint of metal within the grid. Wrecked starships were the most coveted prize of all in the Unknown Regions, as unlike within the greater galaxy, there was no guarantee it could just be some random ship. Here there was still wonder, mystery and… The Unknown. That pitch had been given so many times to the engineers, that it even came to them in their dreams, was a bit of a joke muttered at the canteen and had truly lost most of its meaning. Yes, the Initiative was vital in many ways, but only the New Republic pretended to see it as anything other than what it was. It was a desperate ploy to get the citizens of the galaxy distracted from the underlying issues, away from the still smoking ruins of the Galactic Civil War and to give the Remnants something to generate charity with. No one understood that better than these two, particularly as Joey's father was Pentastar admiralty and Simon fought with the Alliance during those turbulent years.

Yet both of them had resolved themselves to this task despite it all. Despite the powderkeg that was still their home, and the utter futility of their task itself.

[color=fdc68a]"Got a lock on the abnormality."[/color]

Abnormalities was what the Monitors liked to call things like this. Anything and everything that stuck out from the natural order of things, looked manufactured or just looked interesting. Most of the time it was just something inane, a striation of rock that had been disturbed by seismic movements, or places like K-16 itself. The whole grid section and some parts of the surrounding sectors was considered an abnormality, mostly because it was the only part of the planet where the pillars were. Elsewhere was just nothing. REC X-45574 had been utterly unremarkable save for this one region, and if it wasn't for the discovery of a possible starship wreck, Simon figured they might have been packing up soon.

[color=fdc68a]"Taking us in slow and steady, get the stablights ready."[/color]

They approached through a particularly dense area of pillars, the lights flaring up and illuminating them. Striations of the scorched surface material made dancing shadows, a strangely natural pattern to the ridges and valleys. Simon carefully guided the speeder underneath one larger than a freighter, a groan sounding as the mass shifted with the wind and nearly made both of the engineers jump out of their skin. Few enough actually were still on the list for K-16, only volunteers now willing to head into the mess that it was. This was why. There was no reason for it all, no method, not even madness. Just chaos. Everyone had seen battlefields and the disasters they had left behind, but this was something else entirely.

Closer and closer the pair came until finally, coming around the side of one of the pillars their lights hit the abnormality. Shattered and broken into three pieces was the wreck of a starship just as they assumed, the pillars winding around it and looking as if they had yanked it out of the sky. It was close enough to the ground that they could see wreckage strewn below, likely the personal belongings of whoever had been unlucky enough to have been on board.

There they settled the speeder down, the electrostatic vane extending so as to direct any errant disturbances towards the speeder and away from where the engineers were working. It was their job to investigate first, ensure the scene was safe, and once it was determined so the other experts would come to do what they did best. All around them were the lives of people they had never known, nor ever would. Clothes lay scorched in the sand, a couple medkits buried partially here and there, some weapons discarded or perhaps thrown from the crash. Chaos, just like the rest of K-16.

[color=fdc68a]"Well, unfortunately looks like it's Republic or Imperial, can't be too sure until we get to the datacore since it has no markings."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Kind of an older one though, right Simon?"[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Yeah, if I'm not mistaken… Some kind of modified CR90 from the looks of it. These old girls could run forever, I'll tell you what."[/color]

A bit of chatter went back and forth between the younger man and the older one, the former never minding the way the latter seemed to like talking about the old days. For all it was back then there had been heroes, as he was fond of saying. Steadily they climbed through and into the crushed hallways of what looked to be the main deck, seeing yet more devastation but not what they had expected. Outside was what they expected, strewn belongings and discarded supplies as what they assumed to be survivors shed weight to look for civilization. Inside… Inside it was a battlefield. Blaster marks littered the walls, their directionalization looking as if repelling boarders, but neither of them were experts on such things. Long thin gouges ran the length of the corridor, stopping and starting in places only to continue until they reached the main living space and near the computer core. Multiple barricades had been set up long ago, defensive positions without any sign of the defenders and only dimpled marks in the deck plating to show where grenades had gone off.

[color=7bcdc8]"Fuck Simon, this ship…"[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Yeah, starting to get a bit of a bad feeling. I'm going to pull the black box records and see if we can at least get an ID on the ship. Watch my back."[/color]

Neither felt as confident as they had before, what had started as just a simple "look and book" as most called a run into K-16 had complicated in ways that they just knew would mean yet more months on the dustball. As Simon worked at the datacore, wires trailing from his handheld terminal and fingers working at the keypad, his partner kept a steady lookout on both the corridor to the bridge and where they had come from. Something here was seriously spooky and the younger man in particular wasn't too keen on finding out [i]what[/i] it might be. He stepped lightly, the sound of his rebreather rapid and showing the growing panic. All around him was the scene of a battle, except for one thing. There wasn't a single body. Sure there were scorch marks, a few smears of old blood on the floors and walls here and there, but shouldn't there have been bodies?

[color=fdc68a]"Got it!"[/color]

A moment of silence passed as Simon stared at the information displayed on his datapad, face paling at the name in bold and the most recent crew listing.

[color=7bcdc8]"Well?"[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"It's… Fuck me, it's the Noreaster. [i]The[/i] Noreaster."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"What is that? Some kind of special ship?"[/color]

Sometimes he forgot about how the remnants often operated the same as their Imperial predecessor. To him, he had grown up alongside the Rebellion, fought with them and watched legends like this rise to prominence. For Simon, who had once crossed paths with her crew, this ship was more than special.

[color=fdc68a]"No, she's a legend among the Outer Rim. Surely you've heard of the Gray Mariners and their captain?"[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Well yeah, everyone has. They were some kind of special ops group with the Rebellion, weren't they?"[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Ha, anything but. That's just what Pentastar and Hand want you to think. These people, they were like us kid. Outer Rim through and through. Sure, maybe not all of them started in the 'Rim, but it was their home. They did what back then, we all dreamed of. Rising up from nothing, from being [i]just[/i] a bounty hunter, [i]just[/i] a smuggler, [i][b]just[/b][/i] getting by. Each of them had come together on [i]this[/i] ship and one day resolved to be more."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"They sound like the real deal."[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"You're damn right they were. Never before had such a crew come together, and somehow become more than just that. These people, they didn't care who you were or what you did. If you were able to contribute and were willing to be part of the crew, they welcomed you. No matter what. Shit, some of them had been wanted by the Empire dead for [i]millions[/i] of credits. Yet still, rumor says they had the sack to actually turn in bounties to them and demand their fair pay."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Rumor also says they killed krayt dragons, held their own with Vader and stole a Star Destroyer."[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Yeah, well maybe some of their deeds have been exaggerated over the years, but there's one thing they did that you should know quite well. They're the ones that killed Viron Jek."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"Wait, holy shit. That was them? They stopped the Dread-Tide?"[/color]

[color=fdc68a]"Details are a bit fuzzy, but everything I've heard says they stormed the bastard's ship and killed [i]everyone[/i] in their way, sabotaged it and hacked the turbolasers to rip apart his own fleet. Then, just to ice the damn cake, they airlocked that big bastard."[/color]

[color=7bcdc8]"If they did all that, and were so great, what happened to them?"[/color]

Simon went silent, this part of the story had more rumors and myth to it than any other. In truth no one knew what happened, just that one year the Gray Mariners disappeared from the Galaxy.

[color=fdc68a]"All of that fighting and struggling wears on someone kid. They had earned their place in the annals of legend, fought and lost many along the way in order to be counted among the greatest heroes of the galaxy. Yet... Some losses are too great. Sometimes, all it takes is one person to keep a family together, and when they're gone there's nothing left. Even legends need someone to bring them together, and some people say that without [i]her[/i] they just couldn't continue as if nothing had changed."[/color]

[hr][u][i]Anchorage, The Outer Rim - Current Day
First Port - Last Resort Cantina[/i][/u]

[color=a187be]"Viron Jek? Sounds like a fucking loser."[/color]

Glass met durasteel and the woman speaking gave a wry grin at the others gathered around her. Rumors had been circulating for the last week of potential competition for the great game, of who looked set to be top of the pack and who would be eliminated first. Solace truthfully cared little as to what the brokers thought of the game and which way the bets were swinging, though she had given her word that she wouldn't do anything to "endanger the Noreaster's standings". Their own broker's insistence that one, looking to score a little extra for either himself or the ship's coffers by betting both for and against the company. Anywhere else, it might have been considered illegal, but here most things were and only a few things were against the rules. The lack of a blaster at her hip showed her adherence to the first and foremost of them, keeping compliant with the Harbormaster's desire to keep people from killing each other [i]on[/i] the iceworld.

A good brawl was a different story, and she had just been treated to a couple fine ones, giving a wave towards the formerly charming smuggler who now looked far less so. It was an eventuality in these places, and she enjoyed a good fight here and there, especially when she was encouraged [i]not[/i] to start any or get into any. Precious little other fun could be had, as not many appealed to her standards, and the drink was about as harsh and foul as it usually was. Truly, the only reason her and the crew came to First Port was to see who might be in need, set up an interview and onboard some fresh blood. With the imminent festival and competition, there was a relative glut of independents searching for a crew to make their name with. Her cybernetic eyes gave a soft whirr as they focused in on one in particular, her reticence to use her [i]other[/i] gifts here forcing her to rely on more mundane means. On second thought that one was a bit too much of a liability, she moved on to scanning other prospects as the prior one got involved in a fight with a KX droid.

The crunch of bone and an [i]incredibly[/i] manly scream over the pounding music explained exactly how well that particular choice went. She brushed aside a bit of her short auburn hair, the color dark in the dim light of the cantina and only occasionally going a vibrant shade as the flashing lights hit it.

[color=a187be]"Seriously though, I've got my doubts on this one."[/color]

A contact of hers sat beside her, a rather squirrely looking rodian that had looked terrified the moment she thought to voice her thoughts on what he identified to be major competition to their outfit. He had explained a few of the details, and she recognized the last name well enough to know what he was about. The Jeks were a long-standing family of reavers and pirates that had been harassing the Republic for as long as there had been one by some accounts, and this Viron had been a particular thorn in the Empire's side of late.

[color=a187be]"Look, I'm just saying he sounds like an absolute edgelord. I mean, what kind of dumb fucker names his ship [i]Deathknell[/i]. Ooooooh, so scary. And the Dread-Tide? Seriously? Unless the dude is like twelve feet tall and jacked to shit, I'm not even going to bother with him. We've done well enough on our own so far, and we'll keep doing fine even if some edgelord tries to interfere in our bounties. Shit. We'll just kill him and add him to the score. Isn't that right, crew?"[/color]