Convoy 323 Out of Varonat

[Darth Fett]

Fett sat in the cockpit of the Plutus, flicking switches and bringing the engines to life.

Outside, the thick jungle of Varonat began to blur as the ship rose, the green canopy shrinking away as the Plutus ascended. Beside him, through the comms, O-N0 aboard the Midas announced the lift-off.

Both ships surged upward, breaking through the dense atmosphere. Fett watched the clouds part around them until the inky blackness of space enveloped both vessels.

Business as usual.

[Darth Fett]

Inside O-N0's processors, the calculations ran flawlessly. The logic of hyperspace navigation unfolded in smooth, elegant sequences, numbers aligning in perfect harmony. In its digital mind, everything was efficient, seamless. It performed diagnostics on the Midas, ensuring each system responded in unison. The fuel levels were optimal, shields were charged, and the ship was primed for hyperspace.

But when O-N0 attempted to report to Fett through the comms, its broken voice modulator stuttered and warbled uncontrollably. "H-hyp-hyperspace p-prep complete, M-M-Master Fett," it sputtered, the pitch jumping between a shrill whine and a low growl.

"Engines... ready f-f-for j-j-jump," O-N0 added, its speech pattern erratic and grating. Even the comm feedback crackled uncomfortably. Fett didn’t respond. He knew O-N0's mind was adequate despite its speech glitch.

O-N0 engaged the jump sequence. The stars in the cockpit view stretched into elongated streaks of light as the Midas and the Plutus simultaneously leapt into hyperspace.

[Darth Fett]

Fett settled back in his seat, exhaling quietly as the calm of hyperspace washed over him. His hand lazily flicked through the bounty alerts on his console, scanning the latest postings from the criminal networks and wanted parties boards. The faces of various criminals scrolled past: grimy pirates, outlaws, spice runners, smugglers, and a host of wanted deserters. Most were small-time scum, the kind that barely registered on Fett’s radar. He was after bigger game.


But then, one alert caught his attention. The face that popped up was the flawless visage of Kressara Thryn. Her golden, tousled hair framed a playful grin, even in the mugshot. The crimes listed were almost laughable: charged with theft and drunken indecency on Dantooine. Fett raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a grin.


“Dear ‘ssara, you little minx" he muttered to himself, shaking his head. It wasn’t the first time her antics had landed her in trouble that week, he was certain. She had a knack for stumbling into bizarre situations that somehow escalated into criminal mischief. Fett couldn’t help but be amused by the sheer absurdity of the charges. Theft and drunken indecency... It wasn’t the high-stakes bounty he typically pursued, but Kressara always brought a certain chaos with her wherever she went.


It appeared as though the true crime had been embarrassing a Hutt dignitary, stealing her prized ship, crashing it, and littering the hills with a stockpile of refined spice.


Fett tapped the puck icon on his console, downloading the bounty details to his personal device. He had no real intention of chasing her down, but it was good to keep tabs on old acquaintances. Besides, Kressara had a way of showing up in the strangest places, and it was better to be prepared.


As the details of her bounty loaded, Fett leaned back and glanced out the viewport. The stars blurred into long streaks around him, and a calm sense of familiarity settled in.

[Darth Fett]

Rhen Var's icy, barren surface came into view, the frozen peaks and ancient ruins looming beneath a gray sky. The Plutus broke free from hyperspace, followed closely by the Midas. Fett’s hands tightened on the controls, steadying his descent. The cold, desolate planet was in stark contrast to the jungle world he had just left. They approached the landing site slowly, ships cutting through the thin atmosphere.