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"Oh," Mareal replied, noting her mistake. "I dought a boat dis big would have at least one medical personel on board. I hafe seen eferyone else, and assumed incorrectly. I apologize."

He gave a quick bow, and returned to the gunning station, which had become back alive. She fast forwarded throught the tutorial, to the targeting practice simulation. The program was rather slow, but she was experienced, which made it easier to use.

"As you vish, herr Yag," she replied, as the program started to go faster. She almost wished it would bump her up several more levels. Still, the rust was needed to be polsihed off.

"It's not dat I hate droids; I just don't trust them," she said, watching the screen dart at an increasing pace.

"Nein. I vas vith dee nimbus commandos on yabiim ven the var broke out. Dat's var I grew up, for dee most part. But on yabiim, dee electrical storms vould sometimes make electronic gear go all vierd, so you soon learned to not put much faith into dee droids," she said, lazily hitting the targets. They spewed by faster and faster, although she seemed to not really get all the more flustered. Every so often, she'd miss one or two shots, but her accuracy still stuck above 80%.

"So vere are you from, Herr Yag? You aren't corellian, and you don't act like a corevorlder."

Laura had just finished mopping the floor, removing the last of the bloodstains. Looking around to make sure she didn't miss anything, she saw only a clean floor, and headed back to put the mop back. Once that was done she made her way to her quarters. " Ah Kriff. " she said to herself, noticing a few things had fallen over during the battle. " All it takes is a single quake of the ship and everything turns into a mess. " she muttered.

After straightening everything back up, she unzipped the light armored suit she had on and put it and her blaster away. " Man that thing's itchy sometimes. " She layed down on her bed to relax for a while.

"Your accent tells everyone you're not from Jabiim." He replied. "As for me, I'm not from anywhere. I dont claim any world as my home, and I'm pretty content with that. My kind, we dont like staying in one place too long."

"Nimbus Commandos." Jag corrected her. "The Storm Commandos are the new Imperial Special Forces group. Big difference."
Jag scratched a scar on the side of his face, the sudden revelation of information sending the cogs in his mind turning.
"Want to break into the big money Bounty Hunting arena?"

"Better crew, yeah. Better gunners, yeah. Not to sure on the pilot part yet, but if that damn corellian ever wakes up we'll know for sure."
Jag leaned against the doorframe and rested his hands on his belt.
"And to put it simply, I'm thinking of looking into alternate sources of income. Tariffs, Docking fees, transport taxes, plus the costs of dealing with a crew of greenhorn spacers all adds up to a rather large dent in my bank account, which in turn keeps me out of the skies. I dont like that. So what I'm proposing is a buisness venture of sorts. Assuming you're halfway nea as clever as I figured you for you might just want to take it up."
"Believe it or not Ive some connections in the Hunter Trade. Used to be something of a family buisness. Suppose we go into a partnership of sorts. I can provide you with gear, a liscense, and the transportation from one bounty to the other. In return I get a quarter of the profit from whatever thug you drag in. Half if I decide to join in the Hunt myself from time to time. What do you say?"