Jaade, Captain of the Jaded Dream, lay collapsed on the rumble couch of his Gozanti Cruiser as a less-than-enthusiastic Twi'lek nervously navigated the freight corridor leading to safety out of the Roche Asteroid Belt. Once the ship was clear of the local space traffic, Kettur plotted a short jump, and the Jaded Dream was gone.
Jaade complained to Kettur than the local Star they found themselves near was far too bright, though he managed to shift himself up to a sitting position long enough to drink some medically-approved whiskey.
Jaade's head was still ringing with the snap punches Pehn had rained up and down his skull. For every punch Jaade threw, Pehn must have answered with three? Still, that wasn't the confusing part of the evening. That had come later, when he swore he saw Quarasha exiting a smoky haze of blaster fire, and the all-too familiar sounds of whoops of joy as Taelios battled Verpine security droids.
That probably ensured they made the No-Fly list. Still, for once he'd be in agreement, that was enough Roche for this lifetime. As he contemplated his Spacer's luck, a horrendous smell assaulted him. Jaade grimaced at the thought that he had thrown up all that fine whiskey.
Looking down, Jaade lifted his boot to find a pink mucus stuck underneath his foot. The slimy, smelly carcass of a Deep Space plankton borne on stellar winds.
Damn you Qardaak...
