[h3][right]Melech - The Trudger, Flying over Beck's Skiff, Jundland Wastes[/right][/h3]
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"'It's good money,' he says; 'It's an easy job,' he says. 'It'll help people,' he says; Fuckin' Hutts, always pulling shit like this." Melech muttered under his breath, his ship currently filled with about ten mercenaries packing various flavors of slug-thrower. As a general rule, Melech did not take jobs that merited that kind of firepower. However, when Doga's man approached him about the job, there had been no mention of armed fighters. Technically, his only job was making sure the water systems in the prospecting town were in working order.

When he arrived at the rendezvous, though, he discovered that they had not given him planet-side coordinates for the town. No worries, though, because they had left word with the captain who drove the regular water deliveries to look for him. All Melech had to do was follow the delivery to the town. Of course, since he was going to be there anyway, they asked if he would mind using his ship's scanners to keep an eye out around them. They had had trouble with some locals trying to steal the water, and could use the help. No problem, right? They would even give him a few men in case something happened and his ship was attacked.

What they had failed to mention was exactly how many other vehicles were in this little caravan, or that the 'men' they had guarding it were mercenaries packing heavy ordinance. At least, as heavy as you could reliably get on this planet. The slug throwers were actually more cost effective than gas-powered blasters, since they would have to ship gas in from off world. That being the case, when they found out Melech's ship had the machines they needed, they loaded it up with materials for making bullets. A couple of the mercenaries happened to know how to make their own ammunition, and were busy churning out additional rounds for just about every gun in the caravan.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Melech shook his head and got back to business. Both of his hands were firmly connected to his ship, each connecting him to a port that enabled him to fly a ship that only droids could pilot otherwise. Even then, a droid would need the right port jack to connect, like the one his co-pilot Beep-Boop was equipped with. Currently, the co-pilot was busy keeping them on course. Melech had other things to worry about.

With his hands connecting him to his ship, Melech could see the world around him through it. The vast array of sensors and detection equipment came together with a system that was used to create holograms, combining with his own cybernetics to let him view their surroundings as a vast map spread before him. No one else could see this map, of course, as all of this information was being directed straight into his mind, overlaying his vision whenever he closed his eyes. Thanks to his cybernetics, he could interact with this map at speeds on par with a droid, and it all gave him a perfect view of the world flying by underneath his ship.

There was a storm coming, his on board systems could see it, let him see it. The sand made it difficult to detect anything too deeply within the storm, but once they were in it he should be able to correct for it. As it was, the miles stretched out before them, nothing standing in their way. Each crack and crevice of the canyon they were entering was perfectly clear to him, each little plant and creature giving off its own signature, hundreds of targets being identified and dismissed as they came within his miles-long sensor range. Even as they flew into the tight walls of the canyon, his ship would fly steadily forward, the walls sometimes coming within an inch of the hull. He never once got struck, though, all his sensor data giving his co-pilot perfect information to drive the surprisingly agile ship through the dangerous terrain. Where other ships would have taken off miles overhead to allow for this trench, Melech's ship was able to stay six meters overhead the whole way through. Whatever happened on this trip, he would be ready for it.