Open Space and Hyperspace

Mel watched Fel disappear into the head, picking up the glass and the scotch to put everything away. While he was getting cleaned up, Mel filled Demarus in on Fel's status. She didn't like it. As far as she was concerned, Fel was right. Factions and politics were problems that simple people didn't even pay attention to. Her life and death on Lianna never crossed the galactic stage. She was informed, but honestly unless it dealt with an open op, she didn't care. She cleaned everything up quietly, finally turning to look at Demarus' back.

"He's right, you know. He wasn't a galactic player. None of us were."

She had been off Lianna enough times to earn frequent flyer points, but she was an assassin. Infiltrate, eliminate. She didn't stick around. She did the job she was trained for and got out. She spent long hours watching the mundane aspects of people's lives through a scope. Lives she never thought she could have until she met Taung. And now that brought her here. She had to keep reminding of herself of that every day she wasn't rotting on Korriban.

"I can try. This is my first time."

She couldn't even remember what Taung had flown them around on their last foray into trying to track down the missing Sienar tech. She knew it wasn't a 3-Z. Demarus had said this thing was an antique but they all flew the same to her.

She lead him out of the common room, while Demarus headed back towards the cockpit to check on their arrival. The bulkhead door slid open to reveal the starboard cargo hold. It was pretty empty except for a crate off in the corner. It was unmarked but locked so that only she could open it. In it was a verpine shatter sniper, pretty and new, cleaned and ready for her first job. Mel hadn't used it yet apart from a test fire at the range. She wasn't Lola. She would never be Lola, but she had the possibility to be just as good. The foam lined crate also held a pair of KD-30's, E-11's and the cutouts where the pistols on her hips fit in. The lid held daggers and throwing knives, and the bottom was full of ammunition. It was a portable kit of everything Mel told them she needed to work. It even came with wheels.

There were access door that lead to the engines and shield generators and probably some other important things that Mel couldn't identify. She let him wander in, she didn't stop him from wandering wherever he wanted to, but she leaned on the bulkhead and watched him take in the large empty bay. She decided to ask him a little more about himself while they stretched their legs. She didn't know if he would answer, but it didn't hurt. It was going to be a few hours anyway.

"So, where's your crew?"

She listened as he talked of his crew, the sounds of the ship lulling him into a trance as he thought of them. He was worried, and she knew it was more an just a passing concern. They were his family. He didn't need to say it, the sentiment was behind those holoow eyes. When all a spacer has is ship and crew, they are home. He was sprung from prison, he might have some free reign, but until he was on his ship with them, he would never be truly home.

It made her think of her team. The boys had been pretty frosty to her when she had come back from Lianna, but when they charged KDY, they put it all behind them. Sep had been very vocal about them being separated when they were loaded on the transport off the station. She knew they were all taken to the desert, she had seen Einen and Vith during her stay. They had all been worked over pretty good.

Were they being offered deals as well? Were they on a ship somewhere off in the far reaches, working for their freedom? Were they still sweating away in the desert? She had no clear answers. It was something she wanted to ask about the next time she was in a position to do so. For now, she turned back to the matter at hand. Getting him to Garqi. She nodded to him, standing up from the bulkhead.

"Yeah, right this way."

She lead him back through the common to a crew room. It was furnished simply, bed was made. She jabbed her thumb back around to the corner as she stepped back from the door.

"The cockpit is around the corner near the head. I'll be in there with Demarus if you need something. I'll come get you when we get there. Sleep well."

She left him to attend to himself, but she stopped in the galley and left out somethings if he wanted to try to eat. He was in rough shape. Rough enough that she didn't know if springing him would be an advantage. He looked like he could keel over and die at any moment. She shook her head as she sank into the seat next to Demarus. A pair of uncomfortable looks were passed between them before they retreated back into their own thoughts and duties.

If he hadn't gone for her weapons, she would have been surprised. Spacers were wild. That much she knew. Being caged by prison bars or circumstances of fate were not conducive to their well being. They wanted freedom, control, agency over their own course through the universe. To take it from them was tantamount to cutting out part of their personality. It broke them, made them predictable. She didn't want to think about the why he was after her guns. But when the alarm on the cargo door sounded, Demarus gave her a wordless look and she went to talk to him. Her pistols were ready on her hips, but she didn't figure she would need them.

She found him dejected on the floor, frustrated and anxious. She couldn't say she didn't empathize with him. There was something very raw about his presence she could appreciate. He had demons, from the looks of him, pretty nasty ones. Guilt. She could hear it in his voice. Feel it rolling off him in waves. She pitied him, she knew this particular demon well. It was one she had to wrestle with herself. When he mentioned the dream, she moved over to the crate, pushing it back to where he was laying on the floor. She sat down on the lid, her fingers curled over the edge of the crate.

"We're all scared, Galdaart." She hadn't used his first name, but she figured this was a good time to stress to him that she was not always as distant and cold-hearted as she was when she was working. "We all do things that haunt us."

She paused a minute, chewing the inside of her lip before she decided that if he could talk to a stranger, so could she.

"I was raised as Asset 4357 of the Lianna Intelligence Agency. Activated into service as Agent Six. I didn't have a name until 6 months ago. When I was a kid, the missions were never close up. A scope, a nest and waiting for the shot. I was detached from the kill. I just pulled a trigger. When I got older and I had to infiltrate, it got harder to rationalize it all away. I had to get to know my target, usually had to steal something too. I couldn't tell you what was worse. The look of betrayal when they realized what was happening or the fear of dying."

She had been looking at a panel on the wall, her eyes following the scuffs and scrapes in the metal, the scratches in the paint. She pulled her eyes away from it and looked down at him on the floor.

"I don't know what they want you for. But I'm stuck in the same boat. We're dealing with the devil here. But I'll promise you this much. We make it through whatever it is, I'll make damned sure you find 'em."

She chuckled as she grabbed his hand to help up off the floor. Her ice blue eyes locked with his. "I have no choice in going with you. It's why we were sent for you. I do have a choice in what happens when they are done with us. I know what it means to want for home. You'll see yours again. So will I."

She let him go first through the door, a last sidelong look at the locked crate. She didn't want to have to put him down, he was a good man. She hoped he could lock that flighty feeling down and get the job done. She had enough blood on her hands without having to make that decision. That was how she rationalized some of it away. She wasn't making the call on whether someone lived or died. She was just the tool.

Turning back to the front, she patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner, reinforcement that there was no harm done, no hard feelings. "Yeah my boyfriend thought so. He picked it out. And please, call me Mel."

They head back through the ship to the flight deck where Demarus was calmly staring the control monitor, the swirling blues of hyperspace lighting the cockpit. She slid into the co-pilot seat, leaving him to take one of the second seats behind them. The instrument panel was lighting up like a festival square. It was almost showtime.

Arcana was getting bored. Nothing had happened for hours and she was tired of toying with her lightsabers. She was looking over her scanners when an interesting sight crossed them. A lone Defender-Class Light Corvette. By the looks of things it was completely dead, running only on emergency power.
“Harnan, you better look at this.”