Slicer's Tale
Up three levels from the flight training center on the massive
Calamari cruiser Liberty was the chaotic haven called Ordnance
Engineering. Here, arms and explosive devices were maintained and
modified for special missions.
Although she was officially assigned to the bombing squadron, Buccaneer,
Flight Officer Aradia "Slicer" Emerson was usually a fixture in
OE during her off time. She relished the relaxation of stepping
away from reality for a short time to delve into the zone of inventive
imagination. While reviewing her flight clips of the morning exercises,
she had left her faithful sidekick R2-T0 here to perform diagnostics
on her latest modification--an ETD Super-Stealth Seeker. It was
truly only a floating generic Remote with a detonator housed in
its primary core, but the Chief in Engineering had a penchant for
snappy titles regarding weaponry. She was now attempting to program
it to operate by a hand-held frequency changer, but was stymied
by its stubbornness.
"How's it going, Tonto?", Slicer asked, while searching the cluttered
lab table for his vox decoder. He replied with a chittering chirp,
followed by a range of hoots and tones. "Well, hold on while I get
your decoder. I can't understand a word you're saying." She finally
found it under a worthless paper schematic for an even more useless
thing called "Tandy1000", whatever that was. She attached the small
box to Tonto's outer hull, and plugged the four-prong jumper into
the socket.
"I said that the primary diagnostics have revealed an inconsistency
in the stability of the repulsorlift generators, as well as circuitry
malfunctions in the main laser firing batteries on the external
shell of the camouflaging material housing." So the thing didn't
either float or fire, she deduced. Two steps backwards.
"Secondary or primary generator?" Slicer asked. She motioned him
to follow as she exited the Engineering department, back towards
the main turbolift.
"Each has its peculiar inconsistency according to initial calculations.
Theoretically speaking, if one would analyze the logistical variables
of modern remote design..." Slicer cut him off with a sharp "Enough!"
Everyone on the Liberty who knew Tonto also knew that when
he started with the "Theoretically speaking...." speech, quick action
was necessary, or he'd talk the ears off a gundark. The pair exited
the main turbolift and proceeded down the corridor towards the Lounge.
Tonto stopped short, wheels squealing. "Where are we going?"
"Well, duh--we're going to the Lounge, my verbose companion." Tonto
made a particularly humorous noise which Slicer interpreted as a
groan. "I don't want to go there right now," he said, vox volume
considerably lower. Slicer had to stoop over the small droid in
order to hear him speak.
"Erratic is there--you always enjoy a good lube shot and a chat
with Erratic. And Rooster is always very nice to you too," she reasoned.
"Mixer thinks that R2 droids are snotty. And Roo is away at flight
training," he replied. Slicer pondered this for a long moment, knowing
deep down that Mixer was probably right, but hesitant to hurt the
little droid's feelings. She desperately needed a drink, so she
had to think fast.
"I think they call that 'pilot' envy," she said, hoping that no
passerby heard her. "He's just jealous that he can't be out there
bombing frigates like us. Uhhh...but I wouldn't say that to him...
he's probably feeling bad enough about it as it is." Tonto straightened
up, his ocular light brightening considerably.
"Yes, I believe you are correct, Aradia." he said, rolling through
the Lounge doors.
Slicer prepared herself for the barrage of white noise usually
received from opening the hatchway into the Liberty's on-board cantina,
but was surprised to find the dark room unusually quiet. At the
bar sat two men in flightsuits, watching the smashball tournament
on the holotube, engaging in small talk. Slicer recognized Raven,
the leader of Buccaneer Squadron, and returned the cheery welcome
he threw her way. As she approached the two, the second officer
turned, offering a friendly smile.
"Well, I see you've finally decided to take me up on that chat!"
said Lieutenant Andy Furlan, better known as Predator. Predator
was assigned to the legendary Rogue Squadron, and was a notorious
charmer of the ladies, a trait that several of the Rogue pilots
were rumored to possess.
"Please, join us for a drink," invited Raven. "Predator was just
speaking of buying another round." Slicer could tell by Predators'
surprised look that he had spoken no such thing, but still, he quickly
motioned for the bar-droid, Mixer, to fetch them all another round.
Tonto gave a short little whimper, and rolled away towards the lubricant
stand at the far end of the Lounge where Erratic was plugged in.
"Where is everyone today?" Slicer asked, glancing around the darkened
room, dismayed at the dismal attendance.
"Since we upgraded the simulators I have assigned more flight training
for Buccaneer." He offered her a seat between he and Predator, then
looked to her skeptically. "Haven't you seen the schedule? It was
posted this morning." Slicer had seen the schedule, all right, and
it looked as if the Super Stealth Seeker would have to wait a few
weeks. It wasn't an unpleasant inconvenience though. She already
had enjoyed a turn in the new enhanced battle simulators, and was
looking foreword to a few more rounds. Let the geeks in Engineering
figure out the Seeker.
Mixer tapped his metal digits on the bar, impatient to get back
to his inventory program. "I assume the two sirs will have another
round of the same...what will you be drinking today, ma'am?" Slicer
flinched noticeably at the word "ma'am", then gave Predator a sharp
nudge to silence his muffled laughter.
"Any more grape Juri Juice?"
"Rooster ordered two cases, with you in mind." The droid reached
back behind him with his third arm, to fetch the purple drink. Raven
raised one eyebrow, wincing at the sight of the pulpy concoction.
"What the heck is Juri Juice, anyways?" Raven asked. "Shouldn't
you be using a strainer on that, Mixer?" Mixer imitated an impatient
snort, as if Raven really should have known better than to question
his bartending abilities.
"Captain, you jest! All flavorable qualities would be lost! Strainer,
indeed...." Mixer turned from the three pilots, muttering under
his vox.
"What backwater cantina did you discover that dewback sweat in?"
Predator watched with interest as Slicer took a measured sip.
"Belsavis. This 'dewback sweat' happened to save my life," said
the attractive Buccaneer pilot.
Raven gave a lopsided grin, motioning towards Mixer. "Stick around,
barkeep--looks like we're in for a tale...set us up again. On Predator's
tab."
Slicer thought a moment and then began to tell the story, "I was
scamming the bars down on Spaceport Row, looking for some funds
to get back towards my home system of Stregha. I could've gotten
some migrant work picking fruit from the hanging gardens, but hey,
I just escaped from slave drudgery, which is a tale in itself. I
wasn't about to get back into slavery voluntarily. Besides, a few
of the escapees from the Chupacabra worked for the pickers, and
we all tried to keep a distance from one another for fear of being
discovered. The only one I kept in contact with was Diac Mion, the
leader of the infamous slave revolt."
"There was word on the street that one of the visiting mercenaries
had pulled a number on the local boss, Nublyk the Slyke. The Slyke
put out a sizeable bounty on the guy's head, of course, so the Row
was just crawling with eager cut-rate bounty hunters looking to
make a quick score. I figured that by making myself a fixture at
the cantinas, I could probably score a few credits by selling information,
or get lucky enough to lift a purse, maybe even scam a game of two-card."
"One night on the town, in comes this lumbering slob, dragging
his feet into the Smoking Jets where I happened to have set up shop
for the evening. The guy looked primate enough as it was, but he
truly acted the part by walking all drooped over--his knuckles just
about touched the ground. He looked really whipped, eyes all glazed
over, head hung down like a vornskyr with his tail cut off. What
caught my attention though, was his outfit. It was a high-quality
heavy hide, like nerf-hide, only far more exotic. And he's carrying
an Ultra-Silent Dual Barrel Mark II Repeater Gun."
Predator grinned widely, picturing the scene. "If only Supply and
Procurement could get us a few cases of those..."
Slicer sipped the last of her juri, which Mixer immediately refreshed.
"Yeah, they're pretty rare. So my first thought was: Imperial Commando.
But then he reaches into his pocket, and takes out a huge wad of
scrip...then I knew he was a bounty hunter. And with the size of
that bankroll, I also assumed that the Slyke had got his man. "
"The neanderthal orders himself an Ithorian Green, which I thought
was a strange request, for a bounty hunter, then sits himself down
at the bar taking a look around. I get a little cocky, and decide
to take a stroll up to the bar for a better look."
"He gives me the once-over, and offers me a seat up next to him.
He buys me some funny drink called a Sunburst some-thing-or-other,
and comes right out and asks me if I'm 'the local action'. Of course
I play the offended schoolgirl act, and he backs off a little. Then
I move in with some small talk."
"Surely that's not tea you're drinking?" I say, trying to goad
him a bit.
Slicer lowered her voice, doing, no doubt, a very bad impression
of her intended mark. "Yeah, well I heard that drinkin' tea is good
for fightin' off a cold. I was fine a few minutes ago, but now I
ain't feelin' so good."
"Well, I'm thinking 'wonderful', isn't this just my luck? Not only
is this guy grimy and slimy, but he's also virulent. But my greed
took the upper hand, and I pressed onward, keeping him occupied
while he stuffed himself full of fried womprat, and sucked down
a half dozen Green teas. The night dragged on, and after every drink,
he'd get paler and sicker. When I finally couldn't take another
second of his monotone I broke into my nurturing mother routine--I
offered to take him home to nurse off that horrible virus of his."
Raven laughed, slapping the bar. "Yeah, Slicer the nurse-maid.
There's a sight worth seeing."
Slicer grinned. "So, of course this guy, sick though he is, thinks
he's in for a little more than a Vapo-Rub. He stumbles off his barstool
and follows me out of the cantina like a droid on auto-pilot. No
offense, Mixer."
"None taken, I assure you." Mixer had heard enough of these silly
pilot stories to not take any of them seriously. His job was to
serve drinks, and nod his cranium at programmed intervals.
"He asks me how far it is to my house, because now that he's up
and walking, he really doesn't feel too healthy, and needs to have
a rest. I assure him that it's not too far."
"Belsavis is known for it's low visibility, especially at night,
due to the hot springs nearby. Very misty. He obviously isn't in
any condition to pay attention to where he's going, so I lead him
down the path into the gardens, which is pretty hard to navigate
even in the daylight."
"I, ah, 'inadvertently' trip him, and as I'm helping him up, I
also help myself to his bank roll, and of course I disappear into
the mists. I can hear the guy stumbling around in the gardens, calling
out for me. Then my conscience kicks in, I just can't leave the
sick slob like that. Least I can do is lead him to the infirmary,
though he probably doesn't deserve that kind of generosity."
"I mysteriously appear again behind him. He was beside himself
with joy that I hadn't gotten lost in the fogs. The guy grabs me
right by the {censored}, and starts drooling all over me, leaving
his grimy handprints all over my jumpsuit." Slicer stopped, gauging
her audience. "Predator, you're about as red as a tomato..."
Raven looked over at him. "Yeah, you're pretty red. What's a tomato?"
Predator grinned, gulping down his drink. "It's a vitamin-based
organic, found on some Outer Rim worlds. Mixer, set us up another."
He turned back to Slicer, passing over a bowl of exotic bar mix
that Rooster had prepared. "Ahem. Back to the tale..." Raven grinned
at Predator's discomfiture.
"Needless to say, I lit outta there like a Bantha on fire. I head
back towards the spaceport. I figure that I've got plenty now to
book passage back home, plus a little mad money to buy myself a
decent nerf-burger before I go. Problem is, it's pretty late, and
in a backwater place like Belsavis, the spaceport does not handle
traffic at night and is shut down until morning."
"My intentions were to find Diac, hide out until sunrise, then
find us a ride off this steaming rock. I went back to my shelter,
but no Diac. By this time, I'm starting to get a little woozy, myself.
Whatever that slobbering Hutt had, I was going to be spending the
next few days getting rid of it. I spent the next two hours on the
streets, trying to find my little Saurin friend, but with the low
visibility, I might as well have been looking for a tick on a Yuzzem.
Finally, I gave up and headed back towards my hovel for a bit of
rest."
"Next thing I know, I wake up in with a glaring headache. Diac
is there with me, all frantic and out of sorts, babbling about something,
but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I drifted in and out
like this for quite some time."
"When I finally regained sanity again, there was a small old man
standing near my bed. He had a glass filled with a murky orange
liquid, which he offered me. I accepted, being terribly thirsty,
and drank the most horrid mixture ever encountered by human taste
receptors. Yet I felt stronger, almost immediately. By the end of
the day, I was sitting up, and able to speak, yet I was far too
weak to move about."
"Diac informed me that he had found me on the street near our digs,
feverish and unconscious, five days ago. I told him about my glorious
take from the bounty hunter, eager to see his reaction to our good
fortune. He very sadly informed me that all of the money was gone...probably
lifted by a fellow scrounger after I had passed out from the virus.
He had brought me to Tye Lenol's house after hearing of his powerful
healing abilities. Tye was known for his herbal remedies, which
were regarded as ridiculous by scientific medics. But since we had
no money for formal care, he turned to Mr. Lenol."
"During the course of my recovery, I got to know the old guy. He
had lived on Belsavis all his long life, practicing the healing
arts taught by his ancestors. Every day he would bring me a glass
of that rancid stuff, and every day I would reluctantly close my
eyes and drink it, pretending it was a spiced Correlian Ale. He
told me that it was an herbal mixture passed down through generations
of Lenol's, a powerful virus-killer."
"He informed me that the germie I had picked up from the bounty
hunter was no normal virus. It was a rare bug inherant to Belsavis,
which the natives had built up an immunity to. Most off-worlders
have no natural defenses to it, and in the course of a few weeks
of being in system, occasionally they pick it up. Usually, nobody
sticks around that sweaty rock long enough to catch it."
"The natural immunity comes from a regular diet of juri-berries,
which is one of the plants indigenous to Belsavis. Best way to build
up a tolerance is a regular diet of anything extracted from juri,
or have a medic innoculate your system with a heavy dose of a synthetic
clone. That's why the Ithorian Green did nothing for the bounty
hunter."
"And this 'rancid stuff' is the Juri-Juice that you're drinking
right now?" Raven shook his head sadly. "I'll take my chances with
Guardian and 2-1B first."
"No, Juri Juice was just the primary base of the elixir. By the
time Diac found me, I was so far gone, even a straight juri intravenous
couldn't bring me back. Tye wouldn't tell me the ingredients of
the entire elixir, but the juri-berry base was essential to the
treatment, due to its unusual qualities." Slicer looked down at
the glass of intoxicant.
"Now I can't get enough of the stuff. I was surprised once leaving
Belsavis to find that it's a common fixture in the local cantinas.
Plus, it's available in about a hundred different flavors, so I
never get bored with it. As a bonus, Tye also said that the fruit
extract keeps the vitamin C content high, thus warding off future
rogue viruses." Predator quickly glanced to Slicer, and opened his
mouth to complain.
"Uhh.....no offense, Rogue10, " Slicer added with a giggle and
a sparkle in her eyes. "Uh...I meant...vicious, not rogue...no,
that didn't come out right... I mean..." Once again, Slicer had
opened her mouth and inserted her combat boot.
"Oh, first you call me a virus, then you say I'm not vicious?"
Predator pushed his empty glass away, climbing off his barstool,
smirking. "Raven, if you don't mind, I'm going to take your Buccaneer
down to the battle simulators to show her exactly how vicious a
Rogue can be. Let's go, Bucc 8."
Raven grinned, signaling for another drink. "Good, she could use
the practice."
Slicer turned to Raven, ready to protest, then thought the better
of it, as Rogue 10 led her away from the bar towards her eventual
simulated demise. He offered her his arm, showing his true nobility
and charm. "You see, I am truly quite gentle," Predator added. "But
as Rogue10, I am a whole other animal." Mixer turned from the bar,
pointing towards the squat figure situated at the rear of the lounge.
"Be sure to take your snotty R2 with you, as well! Silly pilot Tales..."
