Ryloth's Open Orbit

Tag's fingers danced across the datatablet's on-screen keyboard, reloading the results Hoover's tracing software. The other Black Operator remained on Corulag, in the planet's capital city of Curamelle. Hoover, Soviet, and Leftenant Kaytra Tatham were investigating the political and civil upset that was being propagated by the Imperial Military leadership in the system. Hoover had identified an encrypted transmission originating from a holocaf in Curamelle that he believed had been transmitted by one of his suspects. The transmission trail had ended at Ryloth, and Tag had been sent from the fleet to investigate its potential recipients. The tracing program loaded after a brief moment, and Tag began checking the results against the various communications systems in orbit and on the planet's surface. Out of the hundreds of thousands of communications relays and data transmitting devices he detected, several of them stuck out like sore thumbs. He found two potential recipients in orbit, and four more on Ryloth's surface. Curiously enough, however, Tag's scans also picked up a distress beacon being transmitted from an old model aquatic-variant gunship of Mandalorian design. Putting his work on hold for a moment, Tag looked over to Gaunt, who was piloting the LAAT/Stealth gunship they were using for the mission.
We've got a distress call from a nearby vessel. Focusing scanners. Tag reoriented the gunship's active scanning systems and focused in on the vessel. It's an Amphibious Interstellar Assault Transport, infantry variant. Looks like it's taken a substantial amount of damage. Drive cores are reading poorly, and outer hull plating has been compromised in several areas. I'll bring the ship up on comms, see if there's anything we can do. Gaunt tapped the communication panel and opened a frequency to the other vessel. Go ahead. He told Tag, who began to speak through his helmet communicator.
Unidentified AIAT/i gunship, this is the Happy Harlot, we picked up on your distress signal. My name's Hank Tram. I'm getting a lot of dangerous readings from your vessel. Is everyone on board alive and ambulatory? Do you have any wounded? We can transfer any occupants from your vessel and bring them on board our ship. Please respond. Tag sat back and waited for a reply. He had given a false identity to match the equally false transponder code their vessel was transmitting. Their gunship was indeed equipped with a series of stealth-capable systems and gear, though the vessel itself was disguised as a decommissioned military transport, without any visible weapon systems. Tag and Gaunt were garbed in loose-fitting civilian clothing, giving the impression they were merchants looking to offload cargo onto Ryloth's local markets. Tag knew this would sidetrack them from their primary mission, but that didn't mean they wouldn't help the distressed vessel. While he waited for a response, Tag composed a brief update of their situation and transmitted it through encrypted channels to GALCOM's recipients within the fleet. Depending on the condition of the distressed vehicle's occupants, Tag might be able to help them in-system. But if not, they would have to be transported back to the fleet. Thankfully, the Firestorm, Tag and Gaunt's designated support vessel for the mission, was located just out of the system, and would be ready to pick up any survivors and casualties.

-Blackadder-
"Bloody hell Ma'm, cant these guys take a hint?"

"Give them one."

Atia was sitting in that white uniform by the comms console, with the cybernetic eye changed out to an eyepatch. The eye needed maintence anyway. She sat calmly with a cup of tea and watched blackadder at work. Blackadder smirked at the entire situation, leaned over Atia to get to the mic and pressed the send button.

-Blackadder-
Right... well, this is awkward. See, I tried to hide behind this moon because we had a little electrical failure. Needs to be fixed before jump. The inner was nice enough to stay and help. Should take a couple more hours and we are moving on. I would very much appreciate if you didnt destroy us just because of a maintenance oversight.

Alema'vrei rubbed at the puke with her sleeve. It only succeeded in smearing it. Did he say "Happy Harlot"? Why didn't he just name the ship "I spend all my money on prostitutes because they lie and tell me I have a big dick when really I don't"? Boys are so stupid. I'm going to go find a clean jump suit and a bottle of water. I want to be in fighting condition in case these guys get any funny ideas about two damsels in distress.

With that, the medic left the cockpit.

Tag was running a secondary analysis of the damaged vessel when its crew responded. Gaunt began to draw the gunship closer while Tag laid out to the crew of the Gladiator their plan of action. We read you. We're pulling alongside to receive your personnel. The gunship drew closer to the damaged vessel, floating slowly beside it. Gasses were being expelled from the vessel in several areas, and currents of electricity were visible flickering along cracks in the hull plating surrounding the engines.
Gladiator, our vessel is not equipped with a sealed docking apparatus, do you have enough vac-suits to get your personnel over? If not, we have a few to spare. While they were well enough equipped to handle any casualties, the gunship wasn't equipped with any way to transport the Gladiator. Tag had already marked the location of the vessel in his report to GALCOM, who would see to it the ship (or what was left of it) was eventually retrieved. Tag slapped the lock on his restraints and stood up. I'm heading into the back, keep her steady. He told Gaunt over their secured connection before removing his helmet and tucking it out of sight in the cockpit. The other commando nodded, then likewise removed his own helmet and stowed it away. They needed to maintain their cover at least until they made the jump back into hyperspace to rendez-vous with the Firestorm. That way, the crew of the Gladiator, if they proved hostile, would be unable to transmit any information regarding the men who helped them.
Tag climbed into the troop bay through the rear hatch of the cockpit, sealing it behind him. He keyed open an equipment locker and pulled out one of the vac-suits, then stepped inside the leg holes and sealed the suit before donning a less conspicuous helmet. After checking the seals of his helmet and suit, Tag keyed open another locker and secured a Verpine shatterpistol to his suit's utility belt. As the gunship settled into position just meters away from the Gladiator, Tag clipped his suit's retaining cable to the secured mount inside the bay door and waited for the red warning light to turn green. It did after a moment, and the troop bay door slid backwards, exposing the view of open space around him, with Ryloth turning slowly below. Wind rushed passed him, tugging at the material of his vac-suit as the troop bay was depressurized. Gladiator, we're ready to receive your crew. Tag reported over the open commlink built into the helmet he wore. Transporting the crew of the Gladiator to the Firestorm wouldn't take long, though he was itching to return to their primary mission. Whatever was going on on Corulag couldn't wait, and Tag had the feeling that nefarious forces were already prepared to make their move to take over the Republic world.

Alema'vrei did what needed done. It was better than freezing in space. But as she floated, she could not help but talk to herself inside her helmet, even though she didn't have her comlink on. She was pretty sure they could still see how badly she was shaking with fear. This is just great. I've never been off the surface of Ryloth before, and now I'm EV, floating dead in the emptiness of space, just hoping these guys here won't screw me. All they need is to punch a hole in this suit and I'll get sucked inside out through a hole. Off all the things I've done that were dumb, this is the dumbest. And this stupid suit was designed for humans, and are pinching the heck out of my Lekku. What have you gotten yourself into? And no one knows your here. For all you know, this girl is a spy, and you and the Wonky are walking into a trap. Great. I'm going to be a slave just like my sister. I wonder how long it will take Crom'nen to find me. I wonder if Crom'nen will find me. That's it. I'm dead. Stupid, stupid, why am I so stupid?

This continued on for a while.

Tag began removing his vac-suit after the woman shook his hand and removed her helmet. She had fair features, blonde hair that hung about her shoulders and blue eyes, but was overlain by the sense of strength that was common to the people of their mutual culture. The woman, Ellie as she introduced herself, thanked him for their help. Tag only shrugged in response, a smile halted by her mention of slavers. "I'm glad we showed up when we did then, though I can't imagine slavers would be much of a match for your Wookiee friend here." Tag nodded to the tall being as Ellie pulled her hair up into a ponytail and asked after their business. "Our operation is a small one, several ships like this one and a frigate." Tag lied casually as he sat down on one of the benches lining the sides of the bay. The woman had removed her vac-suit, revealing the apparel she wore. It seemed to be a lighter version of standard Mandalorian armor, though Tag couldn't tell by sight whether the material was duraplast, beskar, or the more common durasteel type. Tag gestured to the crates that were secured at the rear of the troop bay. "We're here to offload a shipment of fuel and supplies." He told her as he felt the gunship turn slowly away from the planet below and accelerate out of its gravity well. "We'll see you guys to our vessel before returning to drop off our cargo." Tag reached over to the intercom panel and pressed a button. "Jalin, we're ready when you are to make the jump." He told Gaunt, and moments later the gunship shot forward into hyperspace. Gaunt's voice sounded over the intercom shortly after. "Three minutes till reversion."
Tag shut off the intercom and looked up at the group they'd rescued, arching an eyebrow at the female who was still struggling to remove her vac-suit. Tag couldn't hear the woman's shouts, but her expression told him everything he needed to know. Tag stood and approached the woman, reaching casually for the clasps that held her helmet in place and pulled them loose. With a quick jerk to the side, Tag freed the helmet of the woman's lekku, then pulled it from her head with a sharp yank.
"You're alright, relax." Tag muttered, holding the helmet out to the Twi'lek woman. He looked back to Ellie. "What can you tell me about these slavers you mentioned?" Tag's tone was calm, neutral even. He was gathering information, hoping to find out more about these slavers Ellie had run into. GALSAF operatives were trained to always seek new intelligence on potential operations, and slaving rings were one of their most common targets. Piracy was another, though they frequently ran operations against corrupt bureaucrats, corporations running illegal operations, and pretty much anyone else they could get their hands on, including murderers and rapists. Slavers were just one on a long list.