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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 10 2011, 11:31 PM (72 Views) | |
| Jonas Tocha | Nov 10 2011, 11:31 PM Post #1 |
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Bounty hunters were a strange and rare breed. They were oft out only for themself and thier credit accounts and not much on being a team player. Even the ones who had a partner or group were still in it for themselves. But when the Empire came out with its own official liscensing a few years ago it really complicated the whole process and a lot of independant contractors of bounty hunting were stuck in the cold. They could get a gig with some private jobs, but those were few and far between not to mention uber competitive. That was the climate that Jonas Tocha found himself in, and the climate that led to his joining the Rebellion. If the Empire was gonna fuck over his career he could sure as hell try to return the favor. "Son of a bitch." He snarled as he dropped the hydrospanner and banged his knuckles on the side of his Jumpmaster 5000, 'The Outlaw Torn'. It was a fast ship, one of the fastest in the galaxy. It was great for hunting and great for outrunning local patrols, but it wasn't exactly built for a big crew. It had enough room for him, a co-pilot or partner, and some cargo. Still the place was home to him for the last 6 or 7 years, ever since Vral bit the big one and left it to him only by default. Jonas climbed down the ladder he'd been precariously perched upon when he relinquished his greasy handed grip on the hydrospanner and watched it clank to the concrete pad below. A heavy sigh passed through his exasperated lips and he stretched as he arrived on the ground. It'd been a long day for him, the whole rebel alliance, or rebellion or whatever the hell it was called was a new experience for him. They tried to have rules, which didn't work with a guy like Jonas. He was a man used to setting his own schedule and playing the game only the way he wanted to play it. On top of that he was a relentless sarcastic prick who made jokes and cracked wise at the expense of those around him almost constantly. As he stood there, looking for any reason at all not to repair his ship and go out on an area patrol he rifled through his coveralls for a smoke, finally finding one he lit it and inhaled its glorious toxins as his eyes blinked in exstacy as he dreamed about being a billion stars away from this place, hell anyplace but here. "Jonas, I've been looking for you." A large green skinned rodian commented as he arrived at the former hunters side. Only the Rodian was not alone, "I've got your partner assignment finally. Here she is. You two get this ship back up to speed and get set for that patrol. And I don't mean the simple one, I mean the big one we've been talking about." The rodian, whose name Jonas couldn't recall, left without allowing Jonas a word in edgewise which was about as uncommon as anything Jonas could imagine. "You. I can not fucking believe you are who they want me to partner with. There must be some mistake." |
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| Aristocra Farisa | Nov 11 2011, 07:51 PM Post #2 |
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Expression neutral, Aristocra Farisa nodded and made the appropriate affirmative noises when Commodore Chopra explained her assignment, but her skin was cooling with nerves. She didn't allow herself any other concession to her misgivings. She couldn't. She was representing the Chiss Ascendancy, a people whom the humans viewed as curious and secretive, and woe to the poor soul who warranted human curiosity, the spotlight was hot. She was under constant scrutiny, and as there were few Chiss in the public eye, her every action and word could be taken as representative of her people. Farisa had always been aware of this and the fact that her commission hinged on her continued diplomacy. After years at the helm of a bounty hunter's ship, she had even learned to wear the role like a second skin. But she maintained a distance between herself and her chief engineering officer or herself and her pilot. She had never been confined on a small scout ship with only one other soul and precious little between them. The JumpMaster 5000 had been designed to quarter less than a "handful of crewmen," she remembered from her Academy texts. But a Destroyer wouldn't be big enough for her and Jonas Tocha. Farisa stiffened and halted as she recognized the man standing next to the JumpMaster in a cloud of smoke. Her brows steepled in an uncharacteristic display of dismay, and she stood taut as if bracing to flee back to her ship. Surely they couldn't be serious. The commodore had given her to understand that they were undertaking a dangerous mission and that stealth or tact might be necessary. She thought she would choose Tauntauns to help her before the husky man in front of her. She knew the former bounty hunter to be as silent and tactful as an elephant in a china shop- as he proved once more when he spoke. Nice to see you too. She tried not to inhale as the foul-smelling Rodian passed her. She met Tocha's dark gaze. "Jonas Tocha," she returned mildly. "What a surprise." She spared a dubious glance for his grease-stained coveralls. "Were you the last to work on this ship?" She brushed her hand against the ship's silver hull, just below the tail of the "n." "Maybe I should have a look. If you don't mind," she added as if he might miss the fact that she doubted his competence as a professional. Her smile was smug. Farisa didn't suffer any misplaced pride- she displayed perhaps an unseemly pleasure in needling him, but she didn't harbor any illusions about her skills. She wasn't a mechanic. If out of sheer stupid luck the repair of a JumpMaster hadn't been her thesis for a Combat Preparedness course, she would have been far out of her depth. Certainly, she wouldn't have been able to tinker with her own cruiser-- moot, since she always ensured her mechanic was competent and the ship was as stainless as the day she'd left her hangar. She would have dearly loved to captain the Matador instead, but the cruiser was less than subtle. Alas, she was a better tech officer than a pilot. So she was standing opposite Jonas Tocha, preparing to essay a mission into dangerous territory with him as her only aid. She didn't wince. Edited by Aristocra Farisa, Nov 11 2011, 07:52 PM.
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| Jonas Tocha | Nov 15 2011, 07:49 PM Post #3 |
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Queen Chiss bitch. Thats what they called her back in the day of hunting at least. She was good though, real damn good, and Jonas hated it. "Well well well if it isn't the woman of my dreams, Aristocra Farisa the bluest beauty this side of Onderon." Jonas said trying to keep from growling at her all the while. They'd had a few head to head opportunities out there trying to pull the same bounty. He won a few, she won a few. Jonas' problem was that he could only fixate on the ones she got instead of him, like it somehow made him an inferior hunter to her. The worst part of it all was she had a nice ass, that part probably pissed him off more than anything. For a moment he considered offering his hand to her, but she was a Chiss, she wouldn't shake it even if it was clean most likely. Well that was not a fair assessment, not all Chiss were the same, maybe she was different. He only knew her just well enough to think he didnt like her. "So you want to look over my ship? Hmmm This should be interesting. Have you ever worked on a JM? Do you even know where the thruster coupling is?" He was curious to see what type partner he was being assigned, Chiss were gifted in space travel and ship design, but again not all Chiss were alike. It'd be interesting to see what she wanted to look at first. If she wanted to see the cockpit would that mean she fancied herself in charge? If she chose the engine would she then consider herself the mechanic? Did it matter what she chose? "You two play nice now." The Rodian admonished as he turned and started t walk off. "If I have to come back here, I'll send you both to your rooms without dinner." Jonas chuckled, realizing they both were probably being impetulant little children who didn't want to hang out with the neighbor or eat their vegetables. "Well....ok then. You wanna look around, be my guest. Need a tour guide?" |
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| Aristocra Farisa | Nov 19 2011, 01:10 AM Post #4 |
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Well well well if it isn't the woman of my dreams, Aristocra Farisa the bluest beauty this side of Onderon. Farisa's brows rose a fraction, eyes widening infinitesimally. She didn't reply as she studied the ship before her, but her blood-red gaze flicked back to him as if drawn. She wasn't a stranger to comments on her skin color or sex. She typically paid them no mind. Even if she cared for that sort of approach, she wasn't interested in complicating her working relationships-- but she had to admit to some curiosity about Tocha. Like a hunting cat, Farisa was fast, targeted and thorough when pursuing and capturing an acquisition. She had been thwarted only rarely-- and each time by this man. If she hadn't already met him, she would have never guessed him to be the cause of her frustrations: the famed Jonas Tocha. She graduated the elite Chiss Academy with honors, she had an impeccable record, she accorded herself as a professional at all times. It had stung initially that she was trounced again and again by a human who conducted himself more like the criminals she hunted than anyone she knew. Two years later, she had developed a relentless curiosity for the man behind the Outlaw. Perhaps this was a good time to study his methods, she rationalized. "I know where the thruster coupling is," she replied with a dismissive flick of her fingers, betraying a little arrogance despite herself. She wasn't emotional. If anyone else had challenged her, she wouldn't have risen to the bait, but she didn't want Tocha to think that just because he had stolen her prey a few times she wasn't to be taken seriously. "I just want to be sure the hyperdrive doesn't sputter the moment we're out of port." Brow raised, she spared a brief sniff for the Rodian and his high-handed joke. Other non-humans might feel a camaraderie with the Rodian, but the Chiss didn't identify themselves as human or non-human. They were Chiss, separate and whole. She didn't care for the Rodian's intervention, but she didn't wish him to report her "uncooperative" either. Besides, it was hard to maintain her pique when Tocha smiled like that. The tension in her spine eased somewhat, her cheeks darkening subtly. She managed a small smile. "Please," she agreed, gesturing to the ramp, watching him. She had always wondered what his ship's interior would look like. |
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| Jonas Tocha | Nov 22 2011, 08:26 PM Post #5 |
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"Do I detect a modicum of pleasantry in your voice? Please indeed." He smiled that slightly off kilter grin he had a knack for putting on display in the presence of the fairer sex. Even when that fairer sex was actually blue. Hey, blue was his favorite color after all. For a moment he considered the opportunity to crack wise about going up the ramp after her so he could stare at her ass, but he refrained, for the moment, in an attempt to keep the peace. They were going to be practically bunk mates on this mission and he knew he didn't have to take every opportunity to get under her skin, not that it was even the intent. "ALright then, this way." He gestured with a wave of his hand to follow him up the downed ramp. The rodian had scooted off to do whatever he was going to do next and Jonas knew that this duo were on their own to inspect the ship, pack the ship, and get themselves moving on their mission. They'd been briefed and debriefed. That thought made Jonas smile....debriefed. "Let me give you the tour. This is the area at the top of the ramp. This is the crew bunks. You can be on top if you'd like." He couldn't resist sliding in a wink with the latter portion of that statement but he quickly turned and continued the tour. "And here is the 'galley' where I guess.....we'll eat." Again he had to stop his uncontrolled charm, if you could call it that, from rearing its head and saying something along the lines of that being the place she could cook for him. "Ummm yeah, Up there is the cockpit and of course back that direction is the engineering area, or....the engine as it were." He pointed back the direction they'd come from initially. "And I guess thats where you want to go first huh?" |
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| Aristocra Farisa | Nov 28 2011, 02:47 AM Post #6 |
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Farisa spared him a sidelong glance that seemed to say, "Don't get used to it" before they ascended the ramp, boots clanging. Farisa's step was leisurely and elegant, as if she had been born to silver spoons and ballrooms, but Farisa had, in fact, been born to a relatively humble branch of the sprawling Aristocra clan. Her elegance was innate. She indulged her curiosity as the ship's fluorescents flicked on and engulfed them in cold white light. She wasn't sure if she had expected a Hutt's decadence inside the little ship, but she was surprised when a distinctly undramatic cockpit, bunks, and galley stared back at her. She supposed she had been expecting something outrageous from the ex-mercenary. Perhaps she ought to be grateful. She had known crewmates who would have piled odds and ends beyond the portholes after piloting a ship this size for years. She was grateful she wasn't claustrophobic. She colored at his joke. She suspected Tocha wouldn't mind at all mixing business with pleasure. She shouldn't be surprised. That fit his image. She came back to attention when he addressed her. Farisa cleared her throat, pursing her lips. "Yes..." She changed her mind. "But I'd like to know first... What did the Commodore share with you about our mission?" Now her scarlet eyes riveted on him. This was the Farisa who always apprehended her target-- unless Tocha was concerned. She had been trained in subtlety, but she had learned after so many missions -and especially in her interactions with humans- that sometimes the direct way was the best way. She needed to know as much as she could about her mission, and the Commodore had been suspiciously close-lipped. That didn't reassure her one whit. |
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| Jonas Tocha | Dec 10 2011, 05:34 PM Post #7 |
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"All about business huh?" He lamented only partially tongue in cheek in sentiment. She lit up a little with his comments, but he'd known her in passing, and known other Chiss as well, and they were hard to read sometimes emotionally. She was no different. "Well if you don't want to play I suppose we'll talk shop. Oh wait, excuse me I should say...I'll debrief you on the mission forthwith." He smiled that almost irresistable smile he was in control of as he pondered the double entendre that 'debrief' held in its meaning. Then he snickered a little. It was a small thing, but it too was something he couldn't control. He led her to the small galley and pulled out a couple of beers, offering her one in order to be polite, but not expecting her to actually drink the thing. As he took a seat he began to rattle off mission details. Jonas was more a story teller, not a mission planner, so he knew he'd bore her, but....she asked for it. "Well, the Empire is constantly utilizing black ops groups to infiltrate planetary governments as well as scout prospective planets. The boss wants us to do some counter actions. Scout a few nearby systems under the guise of looking for a potential rebel outpost, but I think in reality they want us to sniff out signs of imperials. So we get to play spy a little. Spend a little time on a couple planets and see what we see." He took a long swift pull from his ale and looked across the table into her crimson colored eyes as he searched for any semblance of emotion or some clue that she was going to run complain about the mission. He couldn't wait til they got to some place and had to pretend to be a couple, how was she going to react to something like that? "You with me so far or do you have questions?" |
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