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Zinn tips his head to either side, cracking the vertebrae in his neck. "That was close," he says. "The Alliance had darn well better have my OutRunner ready by the time we get back."

He shuts down the engines, knowing this vessel is not likely to ever leave its muddy resting place...at least, not without more work than any sane being would be willing to put into it.

"Time to grab our gear and get out of here. Those bounty hunters are NOT gonna give us a lot of time to regroup here, and we need to be gone when they arrive.

"I don't suppose there were any speeders locked down in the hold? That would make this exit a LOT easier, let alone a lot less traceable..."

Zinn gathers his gear; fortunately, long practice had taught him to not only travel light, but also prepared. His weapons and armor were already on his person, as were most of his accoutrements; the rest were in his rucksack, which he'd packed and stowed next to his seat during their jaunt through hyperspace, during their unsuccessful attempt to evade the pursuing bounty hunters. Unbuckling his crash webbing, he stands, stretches his muscles, then picks up his rucksack and slides his arms through the straps. Checking the charge on his blasters out of habit, he says, "Let's move, people. We gotta get out of here, and we have to do our best to cover our tracks."

Gavin "That's what I've been saying...Glad you are fine Zinn, Speeders I wish."

Clark grabs his gear and heads outside.

Providing we're not so enclosed in the trees that all directions look the same, he climbs up to the highest point immediately available (probably the top of the ship, although perhaps a sturdy tree?) and looks around for a dry route through the marshes and away from here. While doing so, he attempts to recall anything he may have learned about this planet. ((Planetary Systems 4D))

groaning and holding the cut on his head, Jackson locks back at the rest of the crew.
"any.. landing you can walk away from .. is a good landing...
... now a great landing... is when you can re-use the craft... guess were stuck with good..."
he flips a couple switches, and get nothing on the panels. he lips out of the seat and fallows the rest out the side emergency exit, collecting his kit along the way.

"tell me were not in a swamp?" he ask no one in particular. "... rocks i can handle, desert, i can handle... forrest, i can handle... city, i love.... mud... i hate mud....."

*as he steps out..* "F-my life..."

Zinn chuckles at Jackson's assessment of their 'ship.'

"If you'd wanted us to be able to use the ship again, you should have landed us something that wasn't already on it's last leg to begin with..." Elbowing Jackson in the ribs, he adds, "Mud, there's plenty of. We'll have to see about working our way out of it, 'cause we don't want those hunters tracking us out of here."

"ey Zin.. my ego is already bused.. don't need my ribs too..." he looks down and sulks seeing the mud already trying to suck his boots down. "emperors black bones...." he grumbles.

"ok.. when we get back... i'm going to the supply officer.. i seen we have some old yt-1300s in the back of the hanger.. with the extended dorsal cargo pods... i got some zippin ideas to juice on of those up, using nothing but off the shelf parts... Don't get me wrong, the Runner is fine ship.. but bit cozy for a crew of two, and down right cramped for 6... and we all know it..." he casts a glance at Borsk, who makes a funky stink when he comes out of the fresher each time.

"hey wait a minut... I should have landed us? Mr correlian ace pilot, YOU were the one driving!" Jackson argues back as the group moves off into the muck and heavy growth. "maybe we should all have our own ships... have a little squadron of our own........."

Gavin "I am no pilot so no thank you. Lets quit chatting and get moving on."

Zinn chuckles. "I like the 'Runner well enough...but I've actually had my eye on the YT-1930. It's a sharper design, newer than the 1300, and these days, it won't attract quite as much attention, I think."

* ignoring good field craft to keep talking.. *

"what?? you just contradicted yourself... yes the 1930 IS a sharper design i agree... but being newer, is far expensive and has far less upgrades available.. being a sharper design, makes it stand out more, or at least we'd have to act like "successful" business people, not are beloved rag tag motley group... as the 1300, will always be considered a rustbucket and first glance, but can be a real sleeper under the hood.. you know.. a real strip the atmo, off a planet fast ship...."


"hey... what if we go back and try and blow up the Bucket?... you know, try to throw off the bounty hunters, .. they may think we died in the crash... or at least take time to search the wreckage for bodies... yea... na?"

Gavin while trying to coax everyone to get out of the rust bucket wreck "Yes, yes. Both your ships are bad ass now lets move on ladies." he jokes and smiles.

It is unwise to insult one's physician. Borsk, shaken out of his trance by the ship's land fall, quickly observes his surroundings and makes way towards the med locker. Withdrawing a kit, Jackson, allow me to take a look at your wounds. A quick shot of adrenaline may also help clear your confused mental state...

"i not so think as you hert i am.. the bleeding is stopping... or a ran out of blood... i can just rub some dirt in it right?

**ooc, speaking from my own real world experience, cuts above the cheek line bleed heavily, making them look bad, but stop quickly with steady pressure on them. something about having large amounts of small capillaries near the surface to act like a radiator to keep you cool. as Max did not say i was wounded in the crash. self inflicted flesh wound for dramatic sake.**

The Alliance party realizes that their 'acquired' craft is sitting in at least 2-3 feet of water-logged mudbank and decide to use the dorsal airlock hatch to exit the craft instead of the landing ramp.

The air hits everyone like a damp sponge. Oppressive, cloying and dense with moisture, it settles around each member, making everyone hot and sticky. Greenish mist rises from the swamp and torrential rain pours from the cloud-filled sky to splatter down on everyone. Thick foliage from the numerous trees and shrubs limits visibility to no more than a dozen or two meters in any direction and strange animal sounds seem to echo from every direction. Several small, lush islands are visible in all directions, the closest perhaps twenty meters away; along with several mudbanks like the one the -Rustbucket is currently occupying.

Borsk La'Reth remembers he had started to download the Survey Report on Trinta to his pocket computer and he presses a few buttons to pull it up; so that the group might have some kind of information about the world they were now inhabiting….

Everyone's stomachs start to rumble as the adrenaline spikes fade away and everyone is reminded they haven't eaten anything substantial in the better part of two days. The sky is darkening from more than just the storm clouds and Professor Jones realizes that the planet's nightfall is probably less than an hour away. A foreboding feeling of tenseness seems to be a tangible thing on this world….Trinta seems to be anything but an inviting place….


Elsewhere, Jane Corb the Bounty Hunter asks his two companions about their loyalty to Crutag the Taloran Hunter and the two look at each other and then back at Jane with grim expressions on their face and one of them replies; "You clearly don't know much about Crutag. You betray him….he'll spend the rest of his life hunting you down and once he finds you…and he WILL…you may as well tell your next of kin to not expect you swinging by for any reunions or holidays ever again."

Jane Corb

With a smirk on his face Jane looks his fellow bounty hunter in the eyes."I say we branch out on our own and take down the rebels our selves and steal Crutag Ship and if he gets in our way you leave him to me I promise I'll protect you."

"Well, we ought to get moving, no sense standing around here. That island is as good a place as any." Clark nods towards the nearest island and begins heading in that direction.

((OOC: I'm assuming there is a way of getting there without swimming? If not, which directions are open to us?))

Gavin "Haven't I been saying that all along?" moving out into the mud not worried at all about the mud or the rain. Gavin makes sure to keep his blaster out of the mud and rain as best he can.

The Rebel band picks a promising looking large, heavily wooded island about 100 meters away as their best bet for a location to get away from the mud-bank their shot-up ship is resting on and everyone begins to wade towards it.

The water is warm, thick and murky and between the muddy bottom and numerous hidden vines wrapping around their limbs as they make their way through it; it is VERY slow going. The depth of the water is usually no more than a meter; but sudden drops to deeper water happen here and there and despite everyone's best efforts; pretty soon everyone is completely soaked and everyone's equipment is wet and caked in mud and slimy algae. With a lot of cursing and groaning amidst the ever-falling rain; everyone is aware that their Blasters aren't likely to be of any use for anything other than a club until they can be cleaned during a dry period. Clark and Zinn both pull out their Vibroblades while Jackson and Gavin are left with just being able to use their Blaster pistols as make-shift clubs. Borsk of course has his trusty new lightsaber....

As the group is about half-way to their destination, a spiked-webbed sail breaks the surface of the water a couple of meters away from Clark and then a large creature that resembles a cross between a lizard and an Eel; that's over 2 meters long and half that wide; rears up with a huge mouth full of fangs and lurches forward at the Professor. It clamps its jaws down on the forearm of his off-hand arm; which the armor-clothing luckily stops the creature from tearing the limb completely off; but as it is Clark screams in pain and blood begins to pour down his wrist and onto his hand and drip into the murky swamp water*....



Meanwhile; on a patch of island somewhere else on Trinta, a showdown develops as the bounty hunters Stitch and Zharrin stare at Jane Corb in shock and then suspicion as they almost subconsciously take a few steps back and away from each other, all while keeping a close eye on Jane. Zharrin the Quarren says; "You think YOU could stand up to Crutag and protect US from him? You must be space-happy. He'd skin all of us alive.....and I ain't gonna do down that road." "Me either"; grunts Stitch as both Hunters' hands begin to slowly reach for the Heavy Blaster pistols sitting in holsters on their belts. Corb feels the tension explode into the rainy air of the humid world of Trinta and he can tell that one-way or another; his time as an ally with these two is at an end**....


*Clark is wounded; he'll be at -1D for all actions until healed; also; the creature (a Monsail) is still attached to his arm....so it'll automatically start hitting him again next round unless dealt with quick. Everyone is within melee range of the creature....warning....bad misses might hit Clark. (cue evil GM laugh.... )

**Jane knows these two are about to start shooting.

Clark expends his efforts to remove the reptile-beast from his arm!! He uses his vibroblade to cut at the monster's face.

La'Reth will ignite his saber and make his way as quickly as possible to the beast for a quick strike not to kill it but to at least distract it long enough to release the Professor.