When There's Nowhere Else To Run

[Inyos Aamoran]

He had awoken early, though it took a chrono to tell him as much: sliding slowly through a sea of stars, the Whaledon had little reference against which to mark the passage of time.

Early was relative, of course. At some point, someone had made an arbetrary decision that a particular point would mark the start of the day aboard-ship; from that decision, shift patterns and sleep cycles were subsequently derrived. During the time of the Galactic Republic, naval vessels had elected to mimic the length of day of Coruscant - the so-called Galactic Standard Day - and zero had been established as at midnight, as measured at the Galactic Senate Building.

He had yet to determine if it was true, but he'd heard a rumour that someone had modified the clocks aboard the Whaledon to conform to time as measured at the Jedi Temple. He supposed he could easily have checked the validity, but chose not to - this was one of those instances where the notion itself offered far more reassurance and satisfaction than the actual truth.

In either case, it was still the early morning by the reckoning of most aboard, and as a result the corridors were mostly deserted; the only souls he encountered were the restless few like himself, either early to rise or late to lie. A few bleary-eyed nods and gestured greetings were offered, but no words: the Wheel was young, and its passengers unsettled; but in time no doubt, the pitifully small number of survivors would allow everyone to know everyone by name, eventually.

Ducking through a hatch, he stepped into a large room that the Jedi had mostly cleared and declared a space for meditation and training. As he understood it, it had been chosen for the presence of a panoramic viewport that dominated most of the far wall, through which the stars cast the only light currently illuminating the room. Given the hour, he had expected to find it deserted; to his surprise he found himself not alone, and instead in the presence of young Master Loki.

He didn't bother drawing attention to his presence; a Jedi of Loki's apparent skill would have sensed his presence from the moment he'd entered, just as Inyos would have sensed Loki if his mind wasn't so out of tune and distracted these days. Instead, he walked calmly towards his fellow Jedi, and stood alongside.

His words, when they escaped his throat, sounded much more gruff and tired to his ears than he had expected. "Good morning."

[Abarai Loki]

The observation lounge was a regular of Loki's haunts in the morning, it provided him with some much-needed solitude, most of the time. Recently there had been an influx of new arrivals and conditions onboard the Whaladon were starting to feel a little... cramped. In his bid for peace, he came here to escape the relentless thrum of the ship's engines which had been known, on occassion, to make his quarters shake. In his hands there was a datapad, as ideal the room was for meditation it was rare Loki ever indulged himself in it on the grounds he considered himself a beacon of serenity, instead he was reading a report about the Knightfall and Captain Henning. Then there was a voice.

"You are Inyos Aamoran, correct?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

A stab of curiosity graced the fringes of his mind as to the contents of the datapad, but he kept it quashed and quelled, eyes instead focussed firmly on the viewport; in the unlikely event that it was relevant to him personally, Loki would no doubt inform him.

Things generally worked out better that way, Inyos had discovered, from experience. Back during the Clone Wars he had seen two many Jedi who were too eager to aid and assist, and whose curiosity and persistance saw them assigned to tasks that perhaps they were not entirely suited for; and that, in war-time, was often their undoing. Patience meanwhile allowed an objective and logical choice to be made; and Inyos had always trusted that, when a task arrived for which he was suited, then he was the Jedi they would send.

Of course, it did help that back then he'd been so unwaveringly sure of his own skills and abilities that his selection for something seemed obvious, and inevitable.

"I am," he stated simply, addressing Loki's question. Or perhaps it had been a statement merely veiled as one; something about the boy gave Inyos the impression that he would not have asked were the answer in any doubt.

Silence fell for a few moments; not an awkward silence, but instead a peaceful one, content in the knowledge that it existed because there was nothing further that was required to be said. Idle conversation was something that Mandan had ingrained in Inyos' mind through sheer, repatative insistance; and while Inyos had learned to handle it when it presented, he had not "learned to love it", as Mandan's strange phrasing would no doubt have been. To be freed from it, even if it was only this once, was a blessing; and a relief.

[Abarai Loki]

A minute passed. Then another. And another. Five minutes of blissful silence in total, allowing Loki to finish the report, albeit dissatisfied. His research into the enigmatic medic and captain of the Knightfall would contine, but another time. In an hour the first students will arrive in the cargo hold and before then he had to have breakfast, attend the weekly training summary, and write a strongly-worded letter to a Major Kelly Perris regarding the conduct of one of his pilots. His day planned, he turned from the viewport, offering Inyos a nod as he left.

The following morning Loki decided to go for a run. It was a familiar circuit which took him from one end of the ship to the other, utilising the scarcely occupied corridors of the engineering deck, the only downside being that each lap took him on a tour of the engine room and its greasy putrid delights. His morning excercise done, and with no commitments prior to his first lesson, Loki departed for the observation lounge to enjoy his last waking moments of peace.

This time it was occupied. There stood Inyos Aamoran in exactly the same spot as the day previous. He rubbed sweat from his brow using his sleeve - again in his usual black tunic but on account of the run his haori stayed at home - and took his place next to the silent Jedi. A glance and a curt nod was offered, and nothing more.

[Inyos Aamoran]

While yesterday it had been Loki who had spent their encounter reading, this time it was Inyos who clutched a datapad in his hands. Contained within was mostly trivia - names, and superficial details about the ships that were currently making up the Wheel. Through the viewport he watched, letting the logical, structured part of his mind construct an imagined map of what was too far away for his Jedi senses to properly percieve.

There was no purpose to it: no tactical benefit to him being able to translate the distant shapes into named vessels. He didn't know enough to coordinate a battle. And of course, the movements of the ships were beyond unpredictable, so to attempt to do so would be a fruitless, wasted effort. The exercise had no purpose beyond the simple desire to know. Were this the Jedi Temple, he would have sequestered himself in the Archives to study. In the absense of such facilities, he made do with what he had available.

One of the fighters from the Combat Air Patrol swept past the viewport; one of the A-Wings from Valkyrie Squadron, if the colours were anything to go by. He'd never seen such a craft before, it having been invented while he was on Ord Ithil. It reminded him of the Delta-7 he'd flown back with the Jedi Order; no surprise, since apparently the same engineer had been behind both designs.

The thought of fighters and his memories thereof danced whistfully about his mind. "Do you fly?" he asked, breaking his and Loki's shared silence.

[Abarai Loki]

First, Loki passed a casual glance his way, simply to ensure it was him who was being addressed. The question was unexpected but, while perhaps relevant to his reading material, Inyos had unknowingly touched on a topic which fascinated him. Despite this, there was absolutely no hint of fascination in his voice.

"I have flown," he began sensibly, watching the A-Wing patrolling in the distance, then: "I cannot fly - not for a lack of interest but due to inexperience... and time. I have been shown how to operate the weapons on a YV-666 light freighter, but not the piloting controls. There is talk of a Jedi starfighter squadron but... I have been informed my feet won't reach the pedals."

Another beat of silence shared between them, then he turned to Inyos and confirmed, "I cannot fly."

[Inyos Aamoran]

A faint ghost of a smile flickered on Inyos' lips. For him, it had been you aren't tall enough to see over the radar display, but the implication - that age, and the associated physical shortcomings that came with it were the only obstacle that prevented him from flying - was just the same. It was something that certain elders did, to avoid having to admit that it was numerical age that was the issue.

He'd been perhaps a few years younger than Loki when Anakin Skywalker had arrived at the Jedi Temple for the second time, sporting the robes and short hair of a Jedi Padawan. While he had never met the boy personally, he had certainly heard all about him, and his alledged exploits in the skies over Naboo. A sidelong glance scrutinised Loki's height, briefly; if Skywalker was of sufficient size to pilot a starfighter, Loki would surely be capable of managing just as well; particularly with the logical and ordered mind he demonstrated.

"I may not have a starfighter available, and my shuttle may not be as glamorous as the Layla," he offered, guessing that the YV-666 in question was the one referenced in his datapad, "But it does have the virtue of being completely pedal-free."

[Abarai Loki]

Unable to read the man before him, Loki turned once again to the wall of transparisteel and the expansive view it offered. He shook his head.

"If it is your intention to provoke envy with such boasting, you will fail."

[Inyos Aamoran]

"On the contrary," Inyos countered, a brief flash of a smile momentarily threatening to creep onto his face. "I merely wish to convey the knowledge of an opportunity for learning that is available to you, should you choose to take advantage of it."

He thought of Lúka again, and the promise he'd made to teach him to become a pilot: a promise that ultimately he had been unable to keep. Age had not been his delaying factor: instead it had been opportunity, for whenever Inyos had found himself in posession of a spaceworthy craft, there was usually urgency in their flight that made it far from appropriate for a learner pilot.

Any hint of the smile faded, a somber tone washing over his mind. "In uncertain times such as these," he offered, "It is best to be aware of every opportunity that is made available."

[Abarai Loki]

"In short, Inyos Aamoran," he said, a smart turn to survey him fully, "You are offering to instruct me in piloting?"

Rather than being a question that required an answer it was, if anything, an amendment to the Jedi's verbose meandering proposition. Loki speared him with his gaze, unflinching. It had been his experience that people revealed much about themselves this way but Inyos remained a closed book, patiently weathering his scrutiny. While doubt remained, Loki conceded, unable to resist the allure of knowledge. He nodded.

"Very well."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Very well?

A curious response to be sure, but then he supposed he should hardly have expected otherwise. To most on the Wheel he was an unknown quantity; and alas, at present he too was unsure of where he stood, and who or what he was. There had been a time when merely being a Jedi was enough to earn the trust of another: but those had been the times when the Jedi were to be trusted; back when they stood only for what was pure, and good, and just.

Loki was a Jedi from this age; not a Jedi from what had come before. With the Purge, and the Inquisitors, and everything else that had conspired against them, secrecy and deceit had replaced truth and honesty; and now, trust in a Jedi had to be earned.

Inyos offered a curt nod, drawing a line under his thoughts. "You have lessons." It was a statement, not a question; he wasn't forgetful enough to have lost track of what the order of the day was for the students aboard the Wheel. "I will meet you in the hangar, at 1900."

He turned, not bothering to say any more as he headed for the door. At the threshold however, he found himself compelled to halt, and offer one last parting comment. "You are welcome."

[Abarai Loki]

In return, Loki offered nothing but a quizzical arch of the eyebrow and sought out the impressive view once again to contemplate the day ahead. First, he must shower. Since his run he'd noticed an odour on his clothes simply unbecoming of a Jedi. He would then change to prepare for his first lesson of the day: Foundation Swordsmanship. Then there was Combat Theory followed by an entire lunch hour spent avoiding Acacius Blade. In the afternoon he'd instruct a lesson on intermediate swordplay and to finish the day he'd oversee the more experienced students taking part in what they had affectionately dubbed Duel Club. By which time he would undoubtedly be ready for another sonic shower.

Nineteen hundred hours. Loki waited dead centre of the hangar bay, uncertain of where exactly it was he'd be needed. A couple of mechanics gathered their tools from under a docked starfighter, they were in high spirits thankful for the rare opportunity to work on a ship of such calibre, their laughter crossed the vast expanse. He folded his arms and stared beyond the magnetic shield into the dark maw of space and wondered...

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos shifted in his seat, running through the necessary checks that, under normal circumstances, would take several minutes to perform - particularly given the age-addled quirks and problems that were unique to any ship; and to this one in particular. No doubt in the fullness of time, Loki would need to learn such things. Time was far from full today however, and such things could wait for later occasions.

A brief tone sounded from the console, informing him that 1900 hours had been reached. Glancing through the main viewport, his eyes settled on Loki, perfectly on time, and waiting patiently in the exact central point of the bay; Inyos knew for a fact that it was the exact centre, having calculated as much already, for his own personal curiosity.

Reaching for the communications array, he manipulated the necessary controls to power up the Viridian Knight's external speakers, the resulting effect turning his monotone words into something deep and more suited to a children's holomovie villain.

"Abarai Loki," he stated, simply.

[Abarai Loki]

His head snapped in the direction of the talking ship. Through the transparisteel he discerned the shape of Inyos Aamoran and after a brief check to his periphery, where the mechanics stood muttering, he crossed the room. It was bigger than he'd expected and looked like a variation on the Imperial shuttle in which he had once escaped with Acacius Blade. He realised as he approached just how much proportionately bigger than him it was and the thought being its pilot felt suddenly daunting.

The boarding ramp was down so he took it upon himself to climb inside. He was in an antechamber, flanked on either side by round airlock doors, one of which came to life with a long grinding groan. The cockpit opened up before him.

"Inyos Aamoran, you must have kept interesting company to come into possession of such a ship."

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos mused the question, thinking back to the exploits he'd engaged in while aboard this ship, and those like it. While the Viridian Knight herself had been obtained from a military surplus yard on a backwater planet - bought using the interest from bank accounts on Nar Shaddaa that were thankfully still active after his years on Ord Ithil - he had many times flew in similar shuttles; indeed, he and young Lúka had used one such craft to escape the Jedi Purge itself, and with the addition of Mandan Hidatsa they had begun their flight from the new Empire.

There were bitter memories mixed with the fond, but the new balance resulted in the vaguest hint of a smile. "In fact, 'interesting' does not even begin to describe it," he countered, enigmatically.

Brushing his thoughts aside, and adjusting his expression into a frown, he turned his attention to the lesson at hand. Having observed the instruction that Loki gave to other Jedi aboard the Wheel on more than one occasion, it felt odd to be the one in this position instead.

"Familiarise yourself with the controls," he said, calmly. "You will need to identify the repulsorlift controls, and the sublight engines; we will need to make use of those first of all."

[Abarai Loki]

Passing Inyos, Loki slipped into the pilot's seat taking stock of his surroundings. Perched between his legs was the flight yoke, the throttle quadrant sat on his right side while to his left he noticed a convoluted panel of switches and dials. One in particular stood out to him:

REPGEN

He flicked the switch and the ship lurched slightly as it left the flight deck. Loki paused, the sudden floating sensation eliciting from him a curious hmph. He turned to Inyos who had just taken a seat.

"I am familiar with repulsorlift technology, having repaired a number of droids equipped with such generators, however I wasn't entirely certain of the field strength."

Here, he pressed a finger to a glass dial embedded in the control panel, the needle a quarter-turn to the right.

"So I stuck with your settings. Where is the switch to retract the boarding ramp and landing struts?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos had expected to observe in silence at least for a few moments. He had waited for some sort of query or confirmation from Loki before any progress was made; certainly before any motion ensued. Thankfully, his Jedi senses were able to prepare him for Loki's intent to act a fraction before he did, sparing him the embarassment of appearing startled.

"No need to appologise," he responded simply, keeping his tone entirely free from judgement. "The repulsor field can be somewhat -" He searched for the word that Mandan would have used. "- 'twitchy', at times."

Attention turning to Abarai's specific question, he added: "The controls for the landing gear are on that panel located above your head."

[Abarai Loki]

"I didn't apologise," he said, mildly perplexed, then returned to the task at hand.

Once the boarding ramp and landing struts were safely tucked away, Loki then took the flight stick to hand and gave it the slightest of nudges. There was a delay, no more than a fraction of a second, before the nose gently dipped and righted itself again as if the ship were bobbing on a bed of water. He repeated this once to accustom himself to it then wrapped his fingers around the throttle lever. On the other side of the hangar the congregation of mechanics had doubled in size, Loki figured they were about eighty yards away, and doubt set in. He glanced at his instructor.

"I presume a little pressure will not send your ship careening through the hangar wall?"

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos watched in silence, midly impressed by the manner in which Loki exercised cautious preparation. His experiments into the ships' controls were thoughtfully executed, and showed at least a basic understanding of the mechanics and principles upon which the shuttle operated. Mentally, he began preparing for potential manoeuvres that he might suggest once they made it into open space.

Preferably not through the wall in the process, of course.

Keeping his tone level, and eyes still watching out through the forward viewport, Inyos offered his response. "Provided you are able to aim us towards a suitable opening in said wall, I do not believe there will be any risk of that."

[Abarai Loki]

A confident nod, Loki pushed the throttle forward a fraction and the engines yawned awake. The ship crept forward with a lethargic drone and with both hands Loki took the W-shaped flight yoke and turned it to the left. The soft blue glow of the magnetic shield came into view, too slowly for Loki's liking so he gave the throttle another nudge, and in response the engines whined. They rolled by a row of smaller ships and approached the threshold of open space, holding a level course.

"Inyos Aamoran, I am curious. How tall are the wings?"