"Forgive me Commander," Larik tips his head a bit to the side and narrows his eyes, looking directly at the trio of code cylinders, "or did you get a field promotion to Admiral? Anyway, something I'm sure you and the Gunny Captain here understand is we don't just trade in goods, we also deal in more abstract things. Like information. Information Like how just a few nights ago a TIE was brought down by a gun emplacement at a native stronghold. Information like a detailed knowledge of said stronghold and how to bring down the remaining anti-aircraft measures. Information that the stronghold sits atop a very rich mine.

"But," Larik says with a shrug, "maybe that kind of thing doesn't interest you. I do still have a few strong backed workers with me that might be worth something in trade to you if not. And if you're truly completely and fully staffed with not a single need of any sort, we'll be happy to turn around and be on our way."

Queg watches the Stormtroopers approach the AT-ST with interest. If they join the transport that left earlier, that could mean bad things to whomever was out there. And "whomever" unfortunately includes his companions. He sighs and makes a quick, somewhat risky decision when he sees the officer stop the group of Stormtroopers to talk to a nearby mechanic.

He sets down his hunting rifle, covering it with some scraps of cloth in his sniper's nest, and picks up his energy bow, leaving the safety of the building. Rain is still falling, but he ignores the cold, moving quickly and quietly between small hiding places. Not far from his nest and very close to the AT-ST, a crumbling building looks over the Imperial camp. He scrambles up the building hand over hand and perches atop the building. Directly below him, the AT-ST sits idle. The officer is still talking to the mechanic.

If this doesn't kill me, he thinks, It will make for one hell of a campfire story.

Queg swallows and jumps down in an attempt to land on the AT-ST. His mind fills itself with terrified screaming as he falls, pulse pounding. His feet hit the roof of the walker and he slips a bit and grasps a hot exhaust pipe to steady himself. It burns him a bit, but he thanks whatever deity is watching over him for the safe drop.

Naught could see where Larik was going and was privately relieved that he was opting for a reasonably risky path, as opposed to an incredibly risky one. She leaned forward on her speeder bike and addressed the Commander, "This Gand is not privy to the workings of the mighty Empire, but it stands to reason that resources cannot be everywhere at once. Surely the wise commander will seize upon offered assistance to make up for any shortfall while logistical matters are playing themselves out. After all, it reflects well upon one when more is accomplished with less outside supply." She hoped that her flattery would distract the Imperial from his concern about their motives in offering up their assistance. After all, if, as Larik apparently surmised, this officer was operating under a temporary field promotion in extraordinary circumstances, he may well be looking for a way to show his superiors that such a temporary assignment should be made more permanent.

Facing Larik the officer responds"Your alien friends guess is correct, the Empire has many resources, but more can always be used. You have natives that your willing to allow us to have, but you have yet to declare what you would be receiving from this negotiation. Their value is low to us so perhaps some rations, medical supplies or a selection of hand tools. I can not imagine these things are easy to come by on such a pathetic wasteland." He turns to his companion, a man who looks very similar if much stronger, and whispers something to him. "Your information on the other hand could prove somewhat more valuable..."

Larik watches as Naught makes her attempt with the Imperial. He's impressed that despite being a non-human, it appears she's softened the man's stance a bit. He looks over his shoulder and is pleased to see Lalam standing right there. His compatriots' presence greatly improves Larik's confidence as locks eyes with the Imperial commander and reaches out to the force, trying to guide the man's thoughts. He thinks of his best friend, Brint, and pushes the feelings of brotherhood and friendship to the officer.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage sir, as we have no idea what that kind of information would be worth to you, nor do we know what you have to offer us," he says, clasping his hands in front of himself. "I can say giving you intel that will lead to you having sole control over as rich a resource as that mine will cost you a good bit more than some rations - weapons or vehicles most likely. But I feel like we're jumping ahead of things. Even on such a savage world as this we can't forget our manners, we haven't even been formally introduced. My name is Larik. The big guy behind me here goes by Lalam and our Gand friend simply refers to herself as Gand. And you are?"

Naught chimes in, "Lest you think that we are being overly demanding, this Gand will humbly point out that we have the boots on the ground to use such weaponry against a common enemy, so that they are not collecting dust during an important fight. The more force brought to bear at once, the greater the victory." Adopting an obsequious posture seems like the best way to deal with Imperials from her position, and Naught hopes that Lalam's considerable presence will help avoid the possibility of them coming off as overly weak. They need to appear to be capable enough to help the Imperials in a fight, but not so capable as to seem like a potential threat.

As you stand there in the light rain, dull skies above and a stiff breeze blowing, you are acutely aware of the danger of this situation. As the two groups stand off in a Negotiations the tension is ratcheted up by a single hand movement from the mountain of a human, the bigger brother. With one simple flick of the wrist every troopers rifle raises to pint directly at Larik. "You, puny little man, will not be granted the privilege of piloting Imperial machinery. Your small group may have local knowledge but that is nothing to the might of The Emperors Navy and its crew. Step down and hand over the slaves before you find yourselves joining them in their task..."

Queg sits in the cockpit of an Imperial AT-ST. Its clean, very clean, almost as clean as an operating theatre, its also dry and warm, a very welcome thing. There is a low hum from behind him as the walkers systems sit idle, lights on the dash board show it is ready for operations. Outside Queg can hear the mechanic talking to his Commander "Sir, i fixed the damaged hydraulics on the left leg, recalibrated the stabilisers and did a full service on the weapons systems.. she is ready all ready to go, i even started it up and got the heating running in the cabin."

An older, more calculated voice replies "Good work Mick, head back up to the hanger with Tilly and check the Tie, I don't want that thing breaking down now, at least not until we can get those other hangers open and get spares flying again"

"Sir, yes Sir, right away Sir" comes the young voice "Lets go Tilly" a distinct sound of droid servos can be heard as two figures make their way back up the ramp towards the looming ISD.

Larik would be lying if he said he wasn't unnerved facing down 3 blaster rifle barrels, but he can feel the Imperial commander is close to being swayed. He turns his gaze to the Stormtrooper captain while making it clear he's talking to the commander.

"Gunny, your superior officer is clearly smart enough to know a lucrative opportunity when he sees it. There's no need for bluster here. You clearly have us out gunned. Your admiral here though, he knows how much the Emporer values new resources and how important materiel is in the fight against those rebel scum. You may not like us, but we have something to offer and I believe your Admiral is savvy enough to see that, even if you're not.

"And as much as the Empire values resource acquisition, I know it equally punishes insubordination."

Queg shivers lightly in pleasure as his bones and flesh finally begin to thaw out in the warmth of the AT-ST cabin. When he hears the voices speaking, he takes a peek out the front viewport. "Oh, this is my lucky day," he says to himself softly.

As soon as the maintenance working retreats up the ramp to the downed Imperial Star Destroyer, he trains the AT-ST's light blaster cannons on the officer in the white uniform and trench coat. "Shame to lose such a lovely and warm coat, sir ," he says, almost mockingly over the walker's loudspeaker. "But you knew the consequences when you donned that uniform. Goodbye, Commander."

With that said, Queg flicks the switch to disengage targeting safeties and pulls the trigger to fire upon the man. When the explosion's echo fades and the cloud of red mist settles, Queg is definitely sure using the blaster cannons was a little overkill. A scrap of burnt white cloth is pressed into the mud under the officer's legs - the only remnant of the overcoat, and the legs simply end in a burnt stump above the hips. Nothing else remains of the officer. The nearby troopers have been knocked to the ground by the concussion of the blast, though whether they survived its close proximity is yet to be determined. Queg's lips curl into a cruel, pleased grin. "Not my favorite weapon, but it'll do in a pinch."

"****, RUN!!!!" The panic in the troopers voices is clear, the destructive, violent, horrific nature of the attack sending them fleeing in all directions. Their white armour now covered in blood, diving for cover amongst the ruined buildings and sloppy mud. Desperate to escape the sudden assault by an unknown assailant in their own weapon of war.

The flash of light and explosion of impact draws the attention of those in the hanger, standing in stuned silence as the man that had led them through so many battles, had been commodore of the fleet, was erased from existence.

----

The larger man in laminate armour pushes past his brother, sick of the niceties..

"Felix, please, these men have got an honest offer for us, one that the Commander would find very useful"

"Shut up fool brother, their honeyed words wont fool me, they want to pick over our ship, they want our equipment, and likely plan on taking this mine for themselves" He turns his attention to the group of traders in front of him "Hand over those slaves now, they are the property of the Emperor now, you will be lucky to leave here with your life..."

"Felix! I may be your brother, but I'm also a superior officer. YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO AN OFFICER WITH SUCH DISREGARD FOR RANK! You will be lucky if I don't report this to Commander McKinnon, do I make myself clear"

"Sir, yes Sir!" Felix steps back, being put in line by a younger and more senior brother is an embarrassment in front of his squad.

"Now, where where we before that interruption? Ah yes, Slaves and Intelligence for Equipment. We have an entire starship full of equipment, many items used, quite a lot broken... But you see at the moment there is a small problem of access. The ship has lost power and most of the blast doors are closed, getting to the supplies is our biggest problem. Perhaps that's something you could help with?"

The troops of the imperial navy may have been caught off guard by Queg, but they are a well oiled machine. Discipline and training kick in quickly as they prepare to retaliate. Queg can see lots of movement within the docking bay of the crashed ISD.

The view of nearby is blocked by the mass of the walker, Queg can hear movement but nobody is in his line of sight.

Knowing there's a TIE fighter in the area somewhere, based on the report of Tilly the mechanic and the former commander of the Imperials, Queg cranes his head around in an attempt to see the entrance to the ISD's hangar and possibly a way to block it, to no avail. "Well, guess I'll shoot whatever I can then," he mutters to himself.

While Queg is attempting to spot debris out the AT-ST viewing windows, he hears a muffled "Fire in the hole!" from the ground outside. A small, blinking cylinder bounces, miraculously, off all four edges of one of the windows and rattles to the floor of the cockpit. Queg's hand drifts to his communicator. "Well, everyone, it was nice knowing you. Goodbye."

The Stun grenade explodes, sending a burst of loud, squealing feedback through the comms and knocking Queg unconscious. His body slumps over the controls, forcing the AT-ST to move forward on wobbling legs. After two steps, the legs trip each other up, and the transport falls over, crushing the squad of stormtroopers who threw the grenade in the first place.

From their vantage point on the edge of the hanger 4 Stormtroopers aim down their scopes through the window of the rogue AT-ST. "Sir it's an alien, looks like a Rodian"

"Fire at will" comes a cold calculating voice from over their shoulders.

Pew Pew, the bolts fly just moments after a grenade goes off in the cabin. "Hit him sir, so did those Navy boys"

As the 5 figures watch the walker it shifts awkwardly, stumbling a little before crashing to the ground, knocking down another wall and crushing the navy troops at its feet.

"Get down there and see if he's still breathing. If he is get him out, throw him in the store room at the back of maintenance. I'll come met him later. If he puts up a fight just shoot the bastard."

-----

Lalam, Larik, Naught and Khit all hear Queg say his last goodbye through their coms...

Naught is slightly shaken and unsure of how to interpret Queg's transmission, but she knows that the Imperials are far less likely to pick up on her disquiet than that of her companions, so despite the unpredictability of their reactions to her, she begins talking to draw their attention. "Unlocking access to supplies sounds like a most prudent course of action. Perhaps three of us should survey the problem areas? That way we can determine if we have the proper tools and how to efficiently allocate your new," she pauses, "labor force." She spreads her arms to show her lack of weaponry, "We would, of course, gladly accept an escort."

A broad grin crosses Adin's face "Good, good. You will find ways to open up more of the ship, the Slaves can help us improve our fortifications. This will work out just fine" he turns to his brother "see Felix, nothing to worry about. Let's get back to the Commander..."

The Imperials quickly mount up and the transport hums as they turn it around to head back, rain and mud covering the low ground vehicle.

-----

Blackness. Absolute blackness. Queg comes to laying on a cold floor, the smell of rotting food filling his nostrils. Drips of water splash into a puddle somewhere nearby, echoing off the walls of whatever room this is.

But there is another sound too, a deep rumbling... the rumbling of a sleeping beast. Its nearby, the occasional puff of breath drifting over the semi conscious Rodian, foul enough to bring him to the point of gagging.

At the sound and smell of the slumbering creature, Queg's heart almost stops. Fear drives away every bit of bravado he had during the ill-conceived one-Rodian assault on the Imperial camp. His breath quickens, sweat fills his palms, and his pulse hammers loudly in his ears. As carefully as he can in his panicked state, he scoots along the floor as far away as possible from the source of the sound and smell...

Scooting across the floor seemed like a great idea to a frightened and panicked Queg. As he moves through the dark he feels crushed bone, rent flesh and broken equipment everywhere. The sickening feeling of what's about to happen is hard to cope with.

In the darkness while scrambling backwards, Queg's hands find the barrel of what appears to be a missile launcher. While it's complete overkill for whatever else is in the room and might kill him as well if he uses it in a confined location, he finds a minor comfort in its shape. It scrapes far too loudly across the floor surface as he shakingly lifts it to his shoulder.

"Grrrrrrrrroooowwwwllllll...RRROOOOWWWAAARRRR!!!" Something enormous just woke up in the dark, the bellow of its anger at being disturbed echoes long and loud. An orange glow appears some distance in front Queg, drawing his gaze, mesmerising in its warmth. With a shocking suddenness the glow erupts into a billowing jet of fire, screaming across the now brightly lit cavern toward Queg.

In a single heartbeat he takes in the grand room he finds himself in. Enormous columns stand tall down either side of this monstrous place, high vaulted ceilings sitting atop their aged forms. The floor is absolutely littered with detritus, the remains of centuries of feasting by the occupant. Then there is the creature. Living mountain would be a better description. It's form dominating the surroundings, covered in scales with a head bigger than a small transport... It's wholly unnatural, it's mad, and it's trying to fry Queg in his boots.

Queg's projectile blasts out of the barrel, his aim and timing perfect, to punch through the softer chest of the towering beast. There is a moment of quiet before the explosion inside sprays black blood out over the surrounding area, covering Queg in a slick goo. "Rooooaaaarrrrr!!!" the creature bellows, more in anger than pain, before it makes a swipe at the tiny burning figure in front of it...

The spray of blood and ichor from the beast's wound splashes over Queg, extinguishing the flames on his clothes and messing up the beast's aim as it lashes out with a radar dish sized claw. However, as it whirls around, its massive tail slams into Queg's diminutive form, sending him flying across the chamber. Queg braces himself for the impact that will end his life, but he continues tumbling through empty air.

He opens his eyes, finding only darkness. Maybe my newfound ability can assist me, he thinks. He steels his mind and draws upon his emotions and resolve to see in the darkness. Just as the darkness fades away, a mass of batlike creatures swarm him from all sides, buffeting his body. Then the air becomes not just cold, but absolutely arctic. He imagines his feeble breath coming out in weak clouds of steam, even as he can feel the beast's ichor hardening into a putrid shell of ice on his clothes and exposed skin. Surely, this is the end, his mind manages to express, even as light begins to surround him from below...

The end of the fall approaches, the light gradually becomes blindingly bright, before Queg suddenly slams into frigid water...

He opens his eyes. He is tied to a chair, very bright lights shining in his face. His body aches all over and is dripping wet, ice cold water drenches his entire body. "Chuba noya," he mutters, coughing and squinting.