Open Space and Hyperspace

Perses Project - Prometheus Space Station - Landing Bay Four

Ten minutes later, Krayton stood in the only Landing Bay currently occupied by a craft capable of interstellar travel - one of the Prometheus' two Kappa-class shuttles, the 'Grinning Wampa.' (registration code P02.) It was a craft he was thoroughly familiar with, having logged several hundred hours' flight time in this very ship. She was in excellent shape, and had been slightly modified to suit the nature of Prometheus' solitary status: the first six rows of troop seating had been removed and bulkheads added to provide room for a locked walk-in arms locker (immediately aft of the flight deck on the port side, fully stocked) a small, but well-equipped med-bay (aft of the arms locker) and on the starboard side, a briefing room (immediately aft of the flight deck) and 'fresher (aft of the briefing room.) These new compartments were separated from the troop cabin by a carded entry. Though reduced in capacity because of the modifications, the 'Grinning Wampa' was still capable of holding 48 armored troops, and the separated vehicle / cargo bay at the aft of the shuttle remained, and stood empty with ramp lowered to receive whatever sort of vehicle Isabelle had procured for this hop. 

As for himself, Krayton stood under the nose of the craft, awaiting the arrival of the others. He still wore his flight suit, but he carried a pack with cold-weather gear, three days field rations, a simple med-kit and his sidearm, a well-used DL-22. Upon arrival at whatever godforsaken destination they were headed to, he'd add an A-280 rifle from the arms locker.  

Seeing Trent, Hans and the troops entering the hangar, Kay called over to the other pilot. "C'mon West -- let's get this bird warmed up!" 

Prometheus Station - Hangar Bay.

Hans had wasted no time in getting his things together when he was told that they were about to leave. Isabelle had told them to dress warm so he could only assume that this meant a cold weather op was forthcoming, and the soldier had packed accordingly. With his beloved rifle and his bag over his shoulders, Hans entered the hangar followed by a few of his other troops that he had selected to accompany them per Isabelle's request. Most of them were like him, former soldiers who needed employment. One of them, however, was a special case, not a solider, but a Jedi apprentice. It was a strange thing to have her aboard the station like this but she had been recruited like the rest of them so Hans just went with it. Besides, the Twi'lek girl was quite the tech wizard from what he had heard...

Hans stopped and beckoned his men to keep moving, noticing that Tanara was actually running just a bit late, but it wasn't long before he spotted the red skinned Twi'lek entering the hangar."You're late."

Krayton had activated inertial dampers, which was the final piece in the puzzle before thrust vectoring and repulsor-drives lifted them off the deck. All that remained was Isabelle. All systems were showing green. Grabbing his own headset and plugging in a short fibre-optic lead into the jack located at the base of his skull for HUD and systems monitoring, the pilot sucked on a tooth a few times, testing his mic for activity. Looking out across the bow of the ship at the hangar, he looked to see if Isabelle had yet arrived. 

No idea buddy. We don't have the right personnel aboard for this to be a supply drop, or a VIP escort. Could be evac, or S&D... hell, could even be a bug-hunt. Here's hoping the CO decides to fill us in. Be nice to know if we should be buzzing the tree-tops, expecting any unfriendly heat at a hot LZ, or if this is a pleasure-cruise. Fact we're packing heat means we're likely leaving the bird on the ground for some period, rather than staying on-station for company dust-off. 

Krayton's HUD connection to external cameras picked up Isabelle entering the hangar. 

Head's up Westy. Your girlfriend just got here. 

Without missing a beat, Kay adopted a "good ole' boy" accent, and crossed one eye as he turned to the Twi' entering the flight deck. They joked often, though Trent was usually the 'class clown.' 

Wee-eeell, We's blowing the gunk outta the carbs and wrapping our lips 'round the tailpipe what fer ta suck-start this ole' girl... devolving into laughter ...Yeah... we're just waiting on Westy's lady-friend before we get outta here. Everyone getting settled back there? 

The pilot flipped a few more switches, initializing the pre-ignition and activating the deck warning lights that signaled a craft would be exiting the mag-lock into vacuum. He scratched absently at the small jack plugged into his skull and frowned before turning back to Tanara. 

You mind checking my connection, Tanara? I'm only getting intermittent remote-systems-access and exterior feeds...

Suddenly, there was a lot going on. While Tanara checked out Krayton's neural-link, causing momentary changes in brightness, colour and HUD display at random, the Holonet alert chimed, and Kay called up the new documents. Charts. Maps. Coordinates. He was also monitoring the loading of the A-A5 speeder, while mentally crunching the numbers of their destination. Finishing his calculations, and double-checking them in case the news got any better, he let out a groan just as Isabelle's voice came over the comm. This made Tanara stop what she was doing, and lean over the pilot's shoulder, a slightly concerned look on her face. He smirked in reply. It was nice to see that she cared. Or maybe it was just the idea of screwing up the neural link of the pilot flying the ship she was aboard gave her the jitters. Either way, it was nice. 

S'ok, Tanara. It's just... sounding slightly defeated we're going to Hoth. Southern Hemisphere, by the looks of it. This time of their year, that's furthest from anything resembling a sun. We're in for minus 40-50 degrees ...and here I was hoping to work on my tan. 

Firing up the maneuvering jets in silent reply to Isabelle's suggestion they get moving, Kay used his neural link to open comms to Prometheus control. 

Prometheus, this is the 'Grinning Wampa,' Prometheus shuttle 02. We're outta here, over. See you on the flip side. Out. 

Green lights across the panel showed that all external hatches were sealed, ready for lift-off. Flipping on the internal amber signal lights in the passenger cabin that would let the passengers know they were getting underway, Kay lifted off the deck, and swung the bird around to face the mag-lock and space beyond. Feeding in forward thrust, they passed through the mag-barrier and were free to maneuver. Weak sunlight from the nearby binary illuminated the superstructure of the CR-90 docked off their port bow, and Kay fed in full thrust, angling the 'Wampa over the Corvette's stern, under several umbilical arms tethering the Corvette to the stations' various airlocks and gangways, and into open space beyond. 

Taking one more look at the coordinates and drift charts, Kay laid in the jump, and readied the hyperdrive, keying in the internal comms. 

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, this is your co-captain speaking. We'd like to thank you for flying Alpha-Bravo airlines today... but we won't. On behalf of the flight crew, we'd ask that all seat-backs and tray tables are in their locked and upright positions, and we should remind Hans that sick bags are located in your seat-backs. Two minutes to hyperspace, six hours to destination.

Locking in the Navacomp, Kay glanced over at Trent, gave an 'oh well, what else were we going to do today' kind of shrug, and activated the hyperdrive. Light bent around the flight deck, and they were gone. Once long range sensors and navigational deflector had been set to give a full four-minute warning of any course corrections, Kay stood up and stretched, looking at the few assembled on the bridge. 

Guess we should head back and see what the fuss is, huh?

Valstrol notices how she abruptly stopped speaking once his hood was removed. He looks at his gloved hand for a moment as the ship speeds through hyperspace. Then the eyes of a Sith turn to gaze upon Bria.

As you said before, there are many secrets, Bria. You are looking upon how I once was many many generations ago. My appearance changed over time through ancient Sith methods that gave my life span longevity, longer than the average person. Rituals that not even Cygnus was aware of.

His glove flexes slightly which Valstrol watched for a moment before turning his gaze to the stars that zoomed right by the ship.

I was a born a Sith hybrid, Bria...and after so many long years, I returned to the appearance that I was given at birth. A sign of my renewal with the Dark Side of the Force.

I always thought Raven had a reason for keeping you around. It eluded me but now I see why. He valued your skills as an individual which brought respect and eventually the relationship you two fostered.

The Sith goes quietly as his mind wanders to a time, a similar time that Bria shared with Raven. Back when the Horica Sovereign Empire was at its height and his empress was San Zabar. Valstrol checks the charts to see where they were. Then quietly he leans back into the pilot's chair.

Reminds me of my relationship with San Zabar. We respected one another's abilities and potential. It brought the Zabarian Corporation and its worlds into the Empire. The military of the Horica Sovereign Empire and its industry into her hands. And from there...the respect grew and from there, a relationship that made her my empress and several children.