He didn’t really have any notion that the others had disembarked. He figured Jet would be getting after it soon enough, but that he’d already left? No idea. Certainly no idea that Aellyn had left for town, too. He was on the bridge, had been for quite some time, too… just pouring over the new data from Abilene. The new score. Or what he was starting to think of as a score. Maybe. Though every time he opened a new file, or scrolled to a new part of the sec doc, he frowned at yet another way to get dead. This wasn’t going to be a cake-walk. He reached for the empty hydro flask for the third time, absently picking it up to take a swig before remembering there was nothing in it, had been nothing in it for an hour. Kark. He was so deeply engrossed that barely anything from the outside was registering. 

If Jet had walked in and reported on his condition and the injuries he’d sustained on his way to town, Fel would’ve been like, ‘ok…’ while eyes were pasted to the screen. If Zane had tossed popcorn at him from the doorway, he’d have eaten it, had it landed in front of him, or ignored it, if it bounced off his shoulder.

There was no way he could pull off the caper himself. Jet, neither. They both had military records (and rap sheets.) And neither of them had the right ‘look.’ Zane couldn’t do it. Not by himself, anyways. Not from the inside. He might not have had a dossier in Imperial records, but he simply wouldn’t pass for a bigwig. Nope… to do this clean, meant Aellyn. Aellyn, meant trouble. And not only Aellyn, doing this gig clean, meant two on the inside, which meant Fel would have to take on outside help. Which meant sharing their take. But if he played the dates right, they’d have more than enough to split. Any day of the week would net them five, six million. Once a standard month, the take could be closer to fifteen million.

Now, some of it would have to be fenced. Not all would be hard currency. But even so, it was going to be a good payday – if they made it out alive. In addition to the two inside, there would need to be one on security, one behind the scenes, the best damn slicer this side of CorSec, and a strong-box worker. They could almost do it on their own, but their slicer would be a Face on this job, so they were short a safecracker, a slicer, and Fel wasn’t entirely sure he or Jet were up to the task of being quite as chameleon as they’d need to be. He’d just have to lay it all on the line for the crew. Worst they could say was ‘hell, no.’

Wasn’t every day they got to knock over a casino. 

Aellyn stopped the bike right next to the loading ramp. Fortunately for her and Jet, the ride back to the UA was uneventful. Perhaps the wildlife did bite more than they could chew, thinking of Jet's half eaten arm. The sled came to a halt next to her as she dismounted. [color=AE91B8] “Start offloading… See if I can’t get the kid to help…” [/color] She shouted over to Jet, making her way up the ramp. Stepping aboard the UA, the faithful droid immediately started to beep at her, while she made her way toward the cockpit. 

Jet sat on the edge of the skiff, legs dangling, one hand gripping the railing tight. He didn’t trust the droid at the controls, and with good reason. It had been more hindrance than help. But maybe being out of the junkyard for a while, or even away from the settlement's noise, had settled something in its scrambled circuits. The skiff moved to make a stop beside the ship, just near where Aellyn had already stopped. He gave her a lazy wave as if to say [i][colour=ff0000]‘Yeah, I got this.’[/colour][/i] Jet flinched, instinct bracing him for a jolt that never came. When the ride stayed calm, and came to a slow, steady stop, he let out a breath, a small, low whistle escaping his lips.

The droid had already begun unloading the injectors, chirping to itself in short bursts. Jet eyed the remaining scrap and sighed. Each movement sent a dull ache radiating through his ribs and shoulder, a lingering gift from the predator that had nearly torn him apart. His jacket still clung to him in tatters, and every breath reminded him how close he’d come to not making it at all. The idea of hauling the rest of the load with one good arm and a battered body didn’t thrill him, but the work wasn’t going to do itself. He could only hope that someone came back to lend a hand, even if just for the heavier crates.

He dragged the first load aboard, boots scuffing against the deck, then detoured to his workbench. He grabbed a hydrospanner and jammed it beneath the casing on his prosthetic, prying the metal back with a tired grunt. The latch resisted, then gave way with a snap. The lower half of the arm dropped onto the bench with a sharp, echoing clang that rang through the ship’s quiet. Jet leaned over it for a moment, catching his breath, then straightened with a wince and turned back toward the skiff to grab the next load.

[color=AE91B8] “I told you, I would be back. Appreciate you not leaving me and Jet. Hey.. boss..” [/color] The word boss was sour in her mouth but she needed to stay in line or else. Aellyn tapped on the wall inside the cockpit, making her presence known. [color=AE91B8] “Jet and I picked through the scraps they had. Not much but we think we found what we needed. Could use a hand but I can grab the kid if you're busy? Is he still sleeping? ” [/color]

At first, Aellyn’s voice barely registered. For just a moment. That voice could make itself known anywhere, anytime. It had a way of saying ‘LISTEN to me, MFer, or else!’ Aellyn wasn’t the only one who thought that ‘boss’ sounded wrong. Fel winced as the words came out. Firstly… he was nobody’s boss. Never wanted that reputation or title. Not when he was a squadron leader, certainly not now. Bosses didn’t usually lead by example. He pictured an uptight, white-collar, stuffed-shirt executive sitting behind some big desk in the upper levels on a central planet. That was a boss. Also – hadn’t he just told Aellyn to kick rocks, get the hell off his ship? …like a boss. Kark.

Zane awoke to the sound of voices out in the common area. Apparently, morning had already come and gone. The kid checked the wall chrono, which he could only guess had been updated by the ship’s systems. Yup, it was already after noon - or whatever counted for “noon” on this rock. Shaking off his grogginess, Zane swung his legs around to hang off of the upper bunk. He no longer felt the soreness he usually felt upon waking. His body actually felt…light. Sliding off the bunk to land on the balls of his feet like some sort of lithe mammal, he sat down on the edge of the lower bunk and slipped into his appropriated boots. Sooner or later, he’d call them “his boots”...but they still felt as though they didn’t truly belong to him. Once he made sure the sleeves of his jumpsuit were tied around his waist once more, he walked over and depressed the button to open the door, seeing Aellyn in the doorway to the bridge quite a ways from him. Strolling across the floor, the kid called out to her, [color=cyan]”Sorry for sleepin’ so long. Guess I needed it, though. I already feel a [i]ton[/i] better!”[/color]

[color=AE91B8]“Speaking of..”[/color] Aellyn looked over toward Zane, motioning for them to follow. 

He stood, following her back to the skiff, grabbing one half of a crate with Zane. [color=F7941D]“You said you and Jet pieced this together?”[/color] He looked at the assembled bits and pieces, about two thirds of which he could identify. (he knew how to fly them… wasn’t much for building them.) Glancing around, the mech was nowhere in sight. [color=F7941D]“Where did he get off to? …you two outdid yourselves here. Abilene actually let you walk off with this?”[/color] He wanted to give Jet the praise they both deserved for a damn good job. [color=F7941D]“We get this gear squared away, I should speak to all of you about the next gig. It’s… well, it’s a doozy.”[/color]