Open Space and Hyperspace

For some strange reason, Talon smiled as the Vonskr lapped at his own blood pooling on the floor, as every tongue flick somehow sent a shiver down his spine. It could be a possible side effect of the creatures ability to sense another's presence through the force, making a small but active connection to it's target. Maybe the battle hardened git was going a tiny bit mad inside from the recent trauma he has been experiencing over the last few months with his loss of a battle, almost a thousand souls, his never-ending mental battle attached to that long scar on his back from the same battle or the most recent fight.

Whatever it was, it was forgotten instantly when Panno addressed him for the first time since they had settled onto his ship. The wrist blade was unimportant as it was only a material item after all, the wound to his head was nothing as well, just a new scar with a small story behind it. He cocked his head to one side and turned it slightly to look not at the Imperial Knight but past him, as if he was talking past him to some unknown entity.

He points to both his locked blade and Head in turn.
These?, they are immaterial and unimportant to the path we now follow. I understand why you came to find me..Find us..'

He gently stroked the closest Vonskr, the same one who had been drinking his life essence from the floor from the top of it's skull back along the spine untill his hand reached the start of the tail before taking his hand off and starting again. The creature's tail lightly flicked back and forth at the tip from the small pleasure such an action gave it, opening its mouth in what looked like a grin filled with sharp and very smelly fangs as it panted rhythmically.

'What I, no We need to find out is why there has been cover-up after cover-up handed down to us in bullshit commands..' He again fingered that ring, Xeonon's ring, the one that whispers from the darkness. '...Why our friends had to die and why our supposed commander had this trinket on him'.

Twisting his head back to look at the creature in front of him now, he brought the ring towards the Vonskr now, closing in on it's face. The Force-hunter could sense the dark object and recoiled from it's presence and baring its fangs, ears pulled back and tail twitching while the rest of the body tensed in a way that it was getting ready to attack.

Talon pulled the circular object back away before tossing it through the air towards Panno, whom should be able to catch it easily bruised and battered body or not, before calming the Vonskr again with stroking and whispers of content while looking into it's eyes, giving the creature the feeling that it could trust in him completely. It responded by calming quickly to his touch and whispered word, nuzzling it's snout into Talon's open palm, tail again swishing slowly in content.

Talon looks straight at Panno now.

'When do we get there?'.

He could understand Panno's position fully as some are good with people, others with animals and nature and others still are most happy when out of society and tinkering with inanimate objects such as speeders or housework. Talon has mostly been a people person through life, although he has a deep mistrust of everyone either friend or foe but he doesn't slow this openly which is the main reason he is accompanying Panno back to Imperial space, to find answers and to ferret out the lies and deceit.

He says nothing as Panno catches the ring and is awakened to its properties when he shows that it can be used as a sonic amplifier, a nifty trick. The blood has stopped dripping some from his head wound as it heals on its own, turning the once wet river into a dry and crusty paste forming in a line down his face and cheek. Unstrapping the left side of the chest plate, he shimmies it off of his right side and places it neatly on the floor by his feet before doing the same with the other armor pieces starting with the wrist-guards and ending with the shin-pads. Standing up and rubbing the creases and kinks out of the once brilliant white robes he wears before the fight, he moves a little towards Panno as he asks what Talon knows about the ring he has carried since Xeonon's death.


I admit I know nothing other then what you have just done with it, although it made me feel cold and alone as if all the joys in the universe had been sucked out of me..

He moved to the cubicle in which the Knight had just had a shower and cupped his hands under the tap so that he could wash his face firstly of the blood and grime form their fight but also to feel clean, since he has finally relinquished that dammed ring. Leaving his face over the sink to slowly drip dry his gaze is caught by the swirling water as it drains down the waste pipes and for a few seconds recalls a childhood memory of himself on board a star-ship with the Madalorian whom first rescued him and later turned out to be a valuable friend and teacher..

Oh Iomhar Veshni, what are you doing now I wonder...

He whispered this to himself but it could probably be heard by Panno anyway.


I have held on to that ring since Xeo was killed, and was meaning to return it to one of the Knights or Command, I just remember he had it on his person at all times, so I question whether the effects I have felt from it were felt by him, and did it taint his ideas and judgement at all? I also wanted to know if it spoke to him as it has increasingly been doing to me recently....

Talon let that last question hang in the air, as he was now full of uncertainty of any of his actions after Prakith. Now fully dry and freshened up from his brief wash, he stands in the doorway looking back at Panno and his animal companions.

It may be in all of our best interests if that thing was put away securely until we can investigate it more fully...

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOO! KSSSSSHHHHHHHHH! Thunk.

What the kriff? Rik had just enough time to raise his head from the project on his workbench before the ship lurched violently, no doubt the result of an un-planned exit from hyperspace, and flung him out of his chair and across the room. "Kriffing hell!" Sprawled haphazardly across the floor, he reached out to snatch his comlink from where it had landed and connected to the cockpit. "Figgy! What the hell just happened!"

It seems your repairs were not up to the task you intended. We have exited hyperspace just outside the corulag system.

Well at least we didn't explo.... wait... "Corulag system? How the kriff did we get so far off course?"

They were your repairs, not mine.

"Kriff it. Next port we land in, you're getting a memory wipe."

I quake in terror.

He decided to just leave the conversation be at that point, owing mostly to the fact that he still had no idea what went wrong or why they were off course, and snatched up the nearby bag of tools and headed for the engine room. Again. I swear, this ship falls apart faster than than a twi'lek's outfit in a pleasure den. Why the kriff do I even bother? I assume it is because you cannot afford another. "Again, shut up. You're not helping." Once he was in the engine room, he was greeted by the odor of lubricant heated well beyond its capacity to withstand, and the acrid black smoke that accompanied it. "Kriff!" He backpedaled, snatching his mask off the wall where it hung and pressing it against his face, feeling it seal around him and siphon the contaminated air away. After that, it was only a matter of fighting through the smoke to the back of the compartment to manually activate the vents.

When the air cleared, the sight that greeted him was not a welcome one. The starboard reactor had gone completely dark, and wisps of smoke still trailed out from several of the moving parts that surrounded it. He drew a long, deep breath, then huffed in defeat. "Fig, I specifically told you not to draw from the starboard reactor."

I... We needed more power to make it to an inhabited system. The drain was greater than anticipated.

"And you're just now mentioning this!?"

I didn't want to interrupt you. I know how dedicated you are to your work.

"Oh, so this is my fault now for being enthusiastic about something?"

I did not say that.

"Yeah. Sure. Suit yourself. Do we have enough power to land without dying?"

I am... uncertain. I would recommend waiting for the solar panels to recharge the batteries.

"Right, fine. Do that." He let out another heavy breath as he slumped against the port reactor housing. "If it ain't one kriffing thing, it's another..."

It had been nearly four hours. Melia had been into the cockpit three times to find out why they weren't moving, and his excuses had worked for an hour ('trouble with the port power coupling, better to fix it now than in port, under scrutiny...') but hadn't fared so well after the second hour ('almost got it...') and was met with open hostility after the third hour ('look, we're going to sit here for another hour, because I don't want us to lose power in re-entry and possibly turn into a fine cloud of spice-dust over Corulag.') Fel knew his time was up, and was about to lay in a course for open orbit, just as Melia came into the cabin, a look, not anger, but frustration, maybe a little sadness etched on her face. 

Look, Fel -- what happened back on Kessel. You're right, I didn't have your back. Didn't want it to go down that way, but that red Twi' slaver... she had me where she wanted me, and I--

A light flashed on the console, and both Galdaart and Melia's eyes turned to take in this new occurrence. Fel swiveled back to the controls, began flipping switches. 

Under his breath oooh... you're a big'un. to Mel You got that NBC mask you were wearing on Kessel? He was reaching for his beat-up Stormtrooper helmet Go put it on. 

Fel, what's happening? Is something wrong? 

Just do it. And hurry. Come back up here when it's on. 

She wasn't gone long. The VCX's interior space was minimal to begin with, just the flight deck, and immediately aft a long, narrow cabin with two flip-down bunks. That space was now mostly taken up with the four crates of Gaia's merchandise. Off that cabin were two small chambers, one the 'fresher, the other an automation alcove that gyrtostabilized and allowed for calibration of the various autocannons on the surface of the ship, and also served as the central computer core for the navacomputer and engineering. At the far aft end of the central cabin was an airlock that contained the planetfall ramp, and access to the rear gunnery position. All in all, there was nowhere to hide or have much personal space. Melia was back in the room in less than a minute, the NBC mask covering her mouth and nose. Exasperatedly, she motions with her arms, palms open, as if to say 'what??' Behind his visor, Fel grins, and motions to the co-pilot's seat. 

Once Melia has strapped in, Fel closes the flight deck door before flipping more switches on the console. (toggle IFF to read medical supply shuttle 'Alexias,' deactivate port reactor shielding, bypass all redundant safety measures.) A claxon immediately starts wailing in the cockpit, and Fel activates his wide-band comm (though he reduces the effective range so that Corulag patrol craft would be hard pressed to intercept the transmission) 

Mayday! Mayday! This is the Alexias, bound for Corulag. Unidentified Corellian craft, please respond. We dropped out of hyperspace unexpectedly, due to a malfunction in our core shieldingtripping our navacomp's safety protocol. There are only two of us aboard, but we're being irradiated, and need assistance! We've been trying for nearly four hours to raise Corulag defense, but we're on reserve power and it has been no use! We're dying here -- please, you've got to help us! 

Fel knows that his message will have good psychological impact, as any scans of the ship will confirm what he has said, and an ionization scan will show the ship has been running in a listless circle for nearly four hours, as indicated. In addition, the claxon in the background, and the sound of a crewmember's panicked voice speaking through an inhaler would strike fear into the hearts of most any space-faring traveler. Asphyxiation in space is perhaps one of the worst ways to die. As soon as Fel releases the 'send' key, Melia smacks him - hard - across the side of his head, snapping the helmet over like a bobble-head. 

What the frak, Fel? Power coupling my ass! What are you up to? If this is some cry for help or a shortcut to your crew, so help me I'll--

His reply leaves a lot to the imagination. I don't like to be watched, Melia. 

Fel received the reply -- a voice message, but clearly automated (droid?) And a few minutes later, the bulk of a large, but clearly Corellian freighter appeared in the distance off the port bow. Fel nosed down slightly, so that the freighter would come into the right attitude to dock with their much, much smaller craft. Melia sat fuming beside him as carbon monoxide and other noxious fumes built up in the cabin, invisible at first, but as time went off the atmo took on a fog-like density. To remove a mask now would be almost certain death. Which was kind of all part of the plan. 

If there was a plan. 

Fel's mind worked stream-of-consciousness for a moment. It was a big ship. Too big to commandeer with only the two of them. Two IF Melia was on-side, and besides, they weren't exactly speaking. Can't hash out a plan if you're not speaking. No knowing how many crew there would be aboard a YZ-series. Ten? More than he'd want to subdue. Too much trouble. And he wasn't in exactly tip-top fighting-form shape. No blood. He'd have to watch Mel pretty closely. No, the best way here would be to lay down the details, but leave out the specifics. Specifically ambiguous. Directly vague. If Melia made a move, it would all go downhill pretty quick. If they knew what the cargo was, it could all go downhill pretty quick. Keep the cards close. Be nice -- no reason to spoil anyone's day. The Empire could afford this.

Keep it cool Mel. Follow my lead. I swear to you, this mission is in no jeopardy if we handle this right. In an hour, we'll be planetside as planned. 

The medium freighter loomed large in the viewscreen. It wouldn't be long now... 

He just stood there and looked at her for a long while, trying to figure out what it was that had so suddenly changed. "Have you ever come close to dying in space? It's not like on the ground. When the power cuts and the air gets used up, when you're frozen to the bone and can't get enough air to think straight, there's only one thing that's going through your head before you die. You're alone. Utterly and completely. Even if there's people around, they're all dead too. It's terrifying and absolute hopelessness." He straightened after attaching a pair of boosters to his ankles and began fastening a bracer onto each forearm. "You can go hide in the closet if you want, but I'm not going to stand by and watch if there's even the slightest chance they're telling the truth." Which they aren't, by the way. He ignored the voice and pulled his jacket on before heading out of the workshop and making his way back up to the boarding tubes. "Besides, I'm curious."

By the time he reached the boarding tube, he could see the top of the VCX through the small transparisteel viewport on the other side of the airlock, and he watched as Figgy lined them up with the docking ring and began to extend the tube. Due to the fact that the VCX's only docking ring was on the top of the craft, the two ships were forced to come together at perfectly perpendicular angles, which meant that he'd have to deactivate the grav-plates in the tube so the two fields didn't clash once the ships were coupled. I hate zero-g. I find it quite comfortable. Much more natural than being constrained by gravity. "Says the creepy space-ghost who tried to kick me out of my own body." ...A fair point. Once again, he made sure his mask's speakers were off as he spoke, then stepped into the gangway and began floating across to the VCX, flipping himself so his feet pointed "down" toward the other ship. Once his feet hit the hull, he gripped a nearby handle, drew his right-hand pistol, and stomped twice on the hatch.

Fel had prepped Melia mostly by making her promise that she wouldn't kill anyone. Not that that sort of promise holds much weight when the cards are down. But it was enough to satisfy Galdaart that they would have a shot at playing it nice. Twenty minutes. That's all he needed. 

They were on the other side of the hatch, waiting. He could feel the soft seal, and the slightest of shudders as the other craft made contact. Less than two minutes passed before there was a hollow thudding from the other side of the airlock. In Fel's books, that was making good time. A well-trained deep-space evac crew he once piloted for had routinely taken just over 1:30 after soft seal was established with the outer hull, but he had it on good authority that anyone who could break two minutes knew what they were doing. That gave Fel an idea of who was on the other side of that hatch. Not what kind of person, or how trustworthy, but their level of skill. Sometimes that was enough to base a hunch on. 

Fel cycled the hatch release (which wouldn't have worked had pressure not been equalized on the other side) and a small light on the handle switched from red to green. The inner hatch retracted, exposing the exterior portal. It was cold to the touch. He hooked the fail-safe carabiner in place (in case one was to use the exterior hatch while in atmospheric flight -- crazy bastards...) and pressed the release key. After a moment, the exterior hatch retracted as well. 

The strangers now stood mere feet apart. When the VCX's hatch opened, smokey, fume-filled gas escaped into the zero-gee gangway, scrubbed immediately by the YZ's filters and purifiers. But even so, it was a few seconds before the haze cleared and they could see each-other. The VCX's hatch was small -- only big enough for one at a time to exit, and Galdaart Fel was first. Hands raised in a universal submissive posture, he waited just inside the hatch. 

Galactic Basic?

After the nod from Rik, indicating he understood the universal trade tongue, Fel posed his first question. 

Where should we talk? Your place or mine?

Malora? Elegance? Nubian pleasure-…? Lia lowered herself into the ship, hoping to ‘accidentally’ kick Rik in the head on her way down, but he’d left her too much space and her foot fell short. Oh you are SO lucky all I can do is glare right now, she thought venomously, her jaw clenched under her breath mask, careful to stand slightly behind the ‘mechanic extraordinaire’. Her DL-44 was out but trained on the floor. Unease set her body tense, ready. Seeing Imperial trooper helmets was never a good sign.