Roads

[Barton Henning]

The hum of the engine room was reassuring, in a way. The steady drone had become a lullaby of sorts, as Barton fell asleep each night listening to it and the intermittent groans that came with the vessels old age. Sleep would have been welcome, but there were star-charts to examine, routes to plot. Their current course would bring the Knightfall in to dock with the convoy of ships known as the Wheel, but beyond this – and Barton had no illusions of his permanence as part of that fleet – was a sprawling galaxy, with each planet an interlinking node on the Alliance's trade and supply network.

The holo-projector at the centre of the main hold had vanished beneath the star-charts. Navigation was not Henning's forte, but he worked better with paper than he did with computers, finding it easier to wrap his mind around something tangible. He pushed one sheaf away from himself, drawing another closer, arranging the two to over-lap one-another. With a stylus, he traced a hesitant line from one cluster of stars to another. Now and then he would mutter something, but rarely took notes, instead shaking his head and beginning anew with a fresh course.

His shoulders sagging, Barton exhaled slowly and let his eyes close for a moment, though the lights of the hold still illuminating his vision.

Where are you going, Barton? he wondered. Where are we all going..?

[Atton Kira]

One of the advantages of a ship this old: the thing was so cramped, and made so many obscure noises for no apparent reason that you just grew accustomed to the ambiance; started to filter it out. It made sneaking around that much easier and, when the only activity you could find to keep yourself entertained - considering the shared bunkrooms and thus lack of privacy - was appearing without warning and making people jump, that was something of an advantage.

Atton had decided not to enact the final stage of that process just yet, instead satiating himself with lurking silently in the maw of one of the corridors that branched off the main hold, observing the Captain with intregue. You could tell a lot about a man merely from observation; not just about their current mental state, but deeper clues about their personality as well. The choice of physical media for the display of star charts suggested that Henning was a hands-on sort of person, who liked to be able to take hold of a task and see it through personally, placing no trust in electronics or automation; his scatterbrained, indecisive approach on this occasion suggested that his mind was distracted, plagued by constant thoughts that pulled him in different directions. Atton couldn't be sure what, but knowing his tenacious approach to the pursuit of knowledge, he'd manage to uncover his answer soon enough.

He tugged the tinted lenses off his face, making a show of casually polishing them with a fold of fabric from his shirt. "Y'know, Capt'n," he mused, his voice building gently to minimise the violent surprise of the sudden extra sound, "That droid o' mine has some limited astronav capabilities. Might make the job a little easier. Unless th' lack of ease is there t' distract y', o'course."

[Barton Henning]

Henning was a difficult man to startle. Time, and the training of his younger years, had set him at a certain distance from the world, allowing situations to be internalised and evaluated before any decision could be made. Atton's appearance, therefore, was met with only a glance up to confirm the mans identity, before the Captain's eyes narrowed back on the conundrum laid out before him.

“I don't think a droid would be much help in this case,” Barton answered, his attention wandering over the start-charts once again, calculations working slowly behind his eyes. Blinking, he pulled himself out of the semi-trance and looked up at Atton with an expression that mirrored something like confusion, as if he had quite suddenly lost hold of his previous line of thought. There was something unusual, almost unsettling even, about the sight of Kira without his glasses.

“We're not long from our destination now,” he said after a moments thought, pursing his lips into a joyless smile.

[Atton Kira]

Atton mused the concept of there being situations where a droid actually didn't make life easier. He could only think of a handful and, well: there was probably a droid out there on the market for that as well, if you knew the right people and moved in the right circles. Or the wrong circles; depended on your perspective, really.

Taking a break from his potentially distracting thoughts, he mused over the Captain's continued body language. He felt a little inward smile at the reaction to the sight of his unshielded eyes; he'd worked hard over the years to cultivate an air of mystery that had been extremely conductive in his previous career, and while it wasn't quite as beneficial to him now, it came as second nature. His instructor back at the Republic military academy where he'd been trained had always informed him that eyes were a potentially powerful weapon; and like all good weapons, Atton worked hard to keep his concealed out of sight until they were absolutely necessary.

Henning's smile gave him pause. While their Captain was a guarded and illusive person even at the best of times - or perhaps careful was a more fair assessment; an approach that Kira could certainly empathise with - this but this voyage in particular seemed to have him notably tense and distracted. There could have been any number of factors but, on a ship this small, he expected that he would have noticed them. There were no unexpected messages; nothing unusual had transpired the last time they had made port, as far as he was aware; nothing lept out as a candidate cause.

Something about the mission, then? Atton battled off the urge to frown. As far as he could tell, it was a pretty routine supply mission; nothing in their inventory implied anything untoward and while granted, there was the constant risk of their Rebel dealings being rumbled by the Imperials, the part of space they were heading towards was no more dangerous than the ones they'd flown on their last run; nor the one before it; or the one before that. Hell, they were heading away from Nar Shaddaa: that usually filled a spacer with feelings of relief and security.

Atton sighed, tapping his glasses idly against the heel of his palm. "Somethin' gives me th' impression that said destination isn't quite th' routine run y've lead us to believe it is, Capt'n."

[Barton Henning]

Of all the Knightfall's passengers, Kira was certainly the most observant. He had sold himself as a journalist, which would have accounted for his perceptive nature, but Barton had a feeling there was more to him than he was willing to show or say. Still, it didn't take a detective to notice that Henning was restless – or at least more so than usual.

“We're going to be docking with a large number of Rebel ships,” he admitted. As he spoke, Barton kept his hands and eyes busy, shuffling the star-charts into a rough pile. “I've heard there are key members of the Alliance on board,” he added, with a pointed glance. The loss of the Knightfall's anonymity was not a prospect the ship's Captain was willing to entertain, but it was something they would have to be prepared for...

Rather than worry about what might come of their time amongst the so-called Wheel, the matter of where they would go next had become Barton's foremost priority. Without a schedule prepared, they might linger too long within the convoy and Henning had no desire to tarry where Rebels and Jedi laid their heads.

[Atton Kira]

"Key members of the Alliance?" Atton echoed, a sceptical eyebrow raising slightly.

The reporter's eyes searched for further clues that he might be able to glean from Henning's actions, but he had buried himself back in his selected task, averting his gaze and hiding his more telling actions with activity. It was an old trick, and a common one, which the journalist had encountered many times before. It was almost instinctive: through fear of giving away their precious secrets, potential sources would make pretend at being busy, to avoid so obviously squirming beneath the reporter's gaze. He'd developed a way of dealing with such reluctance to confess, particularly during his years on Nar Shaddaa; unfortunately, pinning Henning up against the bulkhead and glaring menacingly at him until he broke would likely be counterproductive in the long run, and Atton unfortunately lacked the muscular back-up to allow him the option of playing 'good cop', or the contingency should Henning prove to have even more fight in him than Atton expected.

With a trace of disappointment and reluctance in his almost covert sigh, he resorted for the simplest tactic available: cornering a witness by catching them in a lie. "Sounds like an odd piece of information t' have just casually 'heard' about." His eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of a smile curling the corner of his lips. "Y'wouldn't be bein' intentionally evasive would y' now, Capt'n?"

[Barton Henning]

One corner of Barton's mouth twitched up into a knowing smile, his head shaking. “Nothing casual about it,” the Captain answered. The truth of it was that he had no knowledge of just who was aboard the Wheel, but it was no secret that the Alliance had assigned significant resources to the convoy. With such valuable cargo aboard, it was hardly a surprise. Although the Battle of Endor had robbed the resistance of icons like the Jedi Luke Skywalker and the rogue Han Solo, others had risen in their places: the glacial spy Grace Van-Derveld; hot-shot pilot Kelly Perris; the brilliant Admiral Reshmar; the mysterious Black Man... which, if any, of them had been tasked with protecting the secrecy and security of the Jedi?

Finally, his eyes lifted to meet Atton's. “I thought you might appreciate the chance to prepare yourself, though... mentally, I mean. This isn't going to be like any drop we've done before.”

[Atton Kira]

Prepare yourself mentally.

Atton liked to think of himself as always prepared in such a way; if there was one thing he could always rely on, it was that his mind would be prepared to construct some sort of ellaborate plan or reasoning, even if the equipment lying to hand wasn't necessary always sufficient to execute it. Still, if the Captain thought he might need to prepare in particular for this kind of drop -

He almost winced as realisation dawned. Whoever these key members of the Alliance were, odds were good that they'd come packing a pretty extensive security contingent. No matter what one could say about the Rebel Alliance, it's members, and its recruiting policy, you had to admit that their intelligence service wasn't exactly sub-par. There was no way they wouldn't manage to notice a registered Holonet reporter who was stupid enough to be listen on an arriving ship's manifest under his own name.

His tongue pressed against his upper teeth; his mouth sucked in a squeaking breath between the two. "They're not exactly gonna be happy t' see me, are they?"

[Barton Henning]

Barton inclined his head to one side, as he weighed the odds. Whatever qualms the Rebellion had with Atton were theirs and theirs alone. Henning hadn't given himself over to their command fully yet, and the day that he finally did was a long way of yet, if it ever came.

“I wouldn't know... though it seems to me like they need all the help they can get.”

[Atton Kira]

Atton let out a low chuckle, though it was laced as much with bitter irony as with mirth. "I think y' underestimate th' paranoia of y' freedom fighter friends, Capt'n." He cocked his head to the side. "Y'may think that the Rebellion w'd find quite a use f' my skills at unearthin' secrets, but, well -"

He shrugged, digging a pair of hands into his trouser pockets. "Th' Rebel Alliance no doubt has pleanty o' secrets that they wouldn't want me diggin' around for. And no matter how vehemently I offer my assurance that I won't, no amount of pros or advantages will outweigh that fear of what might happen if th' journalist turns out t' not be able to keep his mouth shut."