First Impressions(Hera)

[Lance Casey]

Naboo. Five years ago.

Two Men are walking through the streets of the capital city of Naboo. The man on the right, dressed in a black jacket and pants, hands burried in his pockets. The man on the left, dressed in a Naboo dignitaries clothes. The man on the left turns his head to the side and begins to speak.

Dignitary: I assume that everything is in order for your trip?

Lance: Yes sir. With the ship you have provided, my employer will soon be able to bring over the refugees from war torn settlements and planets.

Dignitary: It's a shame what this war is doing to the galaxy. These poor people's homes being destroyed during alliance and Imperial battles.

Lance nods at the dignitary.

Dignitary: Did you know that Naboo has accepted refugees since before the time of the Empire?

Lance: As a boy growing up on Alderran, I would sees things on the holonet.

Dignitary: Unfortunate business that was, millions needlessly destroyed. If only the rebellion and destroyed the that weapon earlier.

Lance: It was as much the Rebels faults as it was the Empire's.

Dignitary: Surely you don't believe that...

Casey puts his hand in the air, stops walking and turns to the dignitary.

Lance: With all due respect sir, I would rather not speak of the past. I will return to Tatooine with that transport you have provided. You can expect the first wave of refugees within three weeks.

Dignitary: Three weeks. How long after the first transport should I expect the next transport?

Lance: Each successive transport will occur a month after the previous. If more refugee's than expected show up, than we will transport them biweekliy. In that situation, you will recieve verification in the change in schedule.

Casey begins to walk away from the dignitary, hands back in his pockets. The dignitary looks over at Casey, thne turns and walks inot the crowd.

[Hera]

Naboo..

Hera hated the place.

All the goodwill. All the unity and brotherhood of nations claptrap that the Gungans and the Naboo, even till this day, still touted among their sepiac subjects. The past victory they together had gained over the Trade Federation decades ago still imbued the inhabitants with a determined optimism. Optimism - that was worst of all. The place stank of it.

And Hera, to add to her unfortunates, was stuck here.

A wicked snarl simmered in the base of her throat like dross bubbling in a cauldron as her patience was taxed thin with her predicament.

Not only did she hate Naboo. She hated Gungans. Anyone who knew her, knew that irrevocable fact. It wasn't so much the idiotic creatures themselves with their impossible speech and their rise to civic responsibility. It was more...their ears. They freaked her out. It was a foolish and irrational reason, but valid in her own mind. And for that sin of anatomy, they were abhorent to her.

And, here she was, stranded in the heartland of them.

God must truly hate her. And so he should. Her life thus far was one that would bring even the most forgiving of beings to condemn her. As a Sith, it was her nature to serve the Darkside. As a Sith Master, it was her complete pleasure to do so. And she did it with abandon.

Until recent years, that is.

Now - she, like her kind with her - were hunted without respite. The "Purge" they were calling it. At first it had been like shooting fish in a barrel. There were so many force-users and the first targeted had been the Jedi. Possibly because they had been the more gentler kind. Possibly because they were more visible, their behaviour not warrenting a life of circumventing authorities. Or possibly because no one conceived at the time that the tables would turn in such a fashion against those very souls that were attempting to help and bring peace to the galaxy. What ever the reason didn't really matter. What did matter was that all force users were eventually hunted down.

And as far as Hera knew, she was one of the few who had yet escaped apprehension. Walking the plaza in the Naboo capitol, miserable at her circumstances, she wondered if she was unluckier than most in having done so.

Clothed in a peasant skirt, light sleeveless top and sandals, Hera looked nothing like the Sith she was. To most eyes, she was just a young woman taking a leisurely stroll in the warm sunshine.
She looked happy, content.

Inwardly, however, her mind was a broiling miasma of thoughts, scheming and opportunity-seeking. And it was only when the Dignitary parted from Casey and almost walked into her without looking, that she was aware of the fringes of conversation she coudn't be sure she'd overheard.

The Dignitary excused himself, barely aware of who he had stepped on, his mind clearly on other things.

"s'Ok" Hera's reply, too, was distracted.

Her ice-blue eyes busy tracking the disappearing back of what quite possibly was the former owner of her soon-to-be-new ship..

[Lance Casey]

Casey continued his trek through the crowed promanade, qucik to avoid any physical contact with the people of Naboo. This is how he has lived for the past two years, if you could call it living. Traveling world to world, never staying long enough to form any true attachments. Not after Alderaan. Casey decided long ago that he would no longer live in this existance, merely exist in it. Casey finally arrives at the landing station where his new ship is being held. Casey walks though the station, reaching the loading dock of the ship and activates the control panel to open the door. AS Casey steps through the door, he rasies his head in awe of the ship.


Casey: I'll be damned.


The ship, a converted yacht, looked impressive with no body damage. Casey circled the ship, inspecting it before finally arrived at the entrance ramp. Out of nowhere, a storage containers falls to the ground, making a loud crashing noise. Casey steps away from the ramp and wlaks over to the fallen containers. As Casey investigates the disturbance, a shadowy figure makes its way up the entrance ramp. Casey continues to look around the landing pad, until he concludes that there is nothing there. Casey makes his way back to the entrance ramp. H walks up the ramp into the ship. Casey stops at the top of the ramp and hits a switch on a panel to raises the ramp. Casey strides through the ship until he reaches the cockpit. Casey drops into the flight chair, and begins to prep the ship for take off. Casey reaches over to the comm and flicks it on.


Casey: This is the pilot of the Goliath requesting clearance for takeoff.

Naboo controller: Copy that, you are clear for take off.

Casey switches off the comm and turns on the engines before raising the landing gear. The ship shudders at first, but safely hovers above the ground. Casey pushes the thrusters forward and the ship busrts through the open landing pad, rockets towards space.

Casey: Girls got some power in her.

Hera: She certainly does.

Casey turns his head in surprise of the voice behind him, only to be met with a hard fist to the temple. The last thing Casey remembers before he passes out is his body rushing towards the floor.

Hours Later.

Casey lies passed out on the floor of the crews quarters, arms and legs bound. Casey begins to stir, turning side to side, a throbbing pain in his head. He slowly opens his eyes, looking down at his bound hands and legs.


Casey: Oh, wonderful.

[Hera]

Getting aboard had been the easy part. Much easier than expected. Hera had practically strolled aboard at her leisure while the owner was distracted and diverted with the old standard of clanking containers noisily in a tumble.

Commandeering the ship was even easier still.

If this guy was a refugee runner like she thought she'd overheard, Hera felt she was doing the would-be passengers a huge service by clocking the guy sensless. To place their lives in the hands of one who appeared to have bad instincts for danger was the act of foolish men. Or maybe just desperate men.

No, the getting of the ship was the easy part.

Piloting the stupid thing was quite another thing.

Hera had expended herculean effort just keeping the craft on its chartered route. Sure, there should have been an internal navigational guide. And sure, there should have been an auto-pilot button, lever or switch some place too. And there probably was both. However, everything was marked in Nubian. And Hera could not recognize a single marking.

It was a miracle she had kept the thing space-borne this long. The ship was slow to respond to everything she did. Sluggish. Rebellious. She began to suspect some form of hindering sequence knit into the basic mainframe of the yacht's computer. An internal lock of sorts. Pretty clever really. She might have to re-evaluate her first impression of the man lying unconscious in the crews quarters.

She shouldn't have hit him so hard. Sometimes she was guilty of overkill.

Hera heard a low groan as Casey returned to consciousness, sensed his dismay as he discovered hands and feet bound tight.

Jamming what was obvioulsy a flight manual by its diagrams -- also written in Nubian -- against the steering console in an attempt to keep a level keel, Hera left her seat, hurried into the crew quarters, grabbed a booted foot and dragged Casey by the legs into the pilot cabin. It was not deliberate that she bounced his head along the companion-way. It was simply haste.

Sliding him along the floor to stop with a bump, his back against the wall watching her, Hera resumed her seat.

She threw the manual at him, its leafy pages fluttering through the air madly and landing with a foompf against his stomach.

"Tell me how to put this crate on autopilot, now."

[Lance Casey]

Casey turned his head to the side as Hera threw the manual at him. His back sore, Casey looks up at her, shooting her a look. Casey wasn't used ot having attractive women hurting him. Unless he asked. Casey raises his bound hands in the air.

Casey: Your not really giving me any reason to want to help you.


Hera bends over to Casey, staring straight into his eyes.

Hera: I could kill you right now. Is that enough of a reason?

Casey: Untie me and I'll help you.

Hera reaches for Casey's bound hands and rmoves the rope. Casey urubs each wrist before reaching down to untie his legs. Now free, Casey pushes himself to his feet and looks right at Hera before walking over to the pilots chair and sits down. He starts to begin the sequence to engage the autopilot. Casey stops. An idea crosses his mind. "She doesn't know what I'm doing, have to try and get this ship to Tatooine." Casey turns on the autopilot, but continues pressing keys, typing in the coridinates for Tatooine. Casey stops and looks up to Hera, his face wide with shock.


Casey: One question.

Hera: What is it?

Casey: Why is that Imperial ship with the convoy of tie's heading right for us?

Casey points straight ahead, motioning for Hera to look through the cockpit window.

Hera: Damn.


Casey immediately turns off the autopilot, putting the manual controls back on. Casey turns the yacht 180 degrees to the left so that the back of the ship faces the ties and Star Destroyer. The nav computer humms to life as Casey begins the seguence to enter hyperdrive. Casey pusshes the throttle full ahead, the force sending Hera backwards through the door way to the cockpit, sliding into a wall.
Casey looks back at Hera.

Casey: You might want strap in.

Her flips off Casey before getting to her feet and making her way back into the cockpit and strapping herself in the co-pilot chair.


Hera: What the hell are you trying do do?


Casey: Trying to save our lives, for some reason I just can't seem to understand.

[Hera]

"Well, you couldn't have reacted more suspiciously if you'd tried" Hera chastised.

"You'll bring the whole lot of them down on our heads now."

True to the inate ability of all women in circumstances of crisis and extreme danger, Hera found the time to berate.

She strapped herself in while unloading a barrage of rebuking comments that would have impressed the Senate Forums for their unhelpfulness and irrellevance.

"If I were an Imperial cruiser with a fleet of escorting TIE's, where would I look for a person of interest if a ship just suddenly upped and about faced at the speed of light?"

She 'clicked' in her belt with an irritated SNAP!

"Anyone ever tell you to avoid trouble, by not looking like trouble?"

Casey accellerated.

"I guess not" Hera answered herself.

Looking over the vidscreen in the center consol that now lit up like a christmas tree with weaving red dots, her brows knit together in concern.

"This thing got any fire power that you know of?"

[Lance Casey]

Casey shoots a dirty look at Hera. Though he hated to admit it, she was right, he did over react and now he had bigger problems than just his unwanted passenger.

Casey: So I have issues when I see a wing of Tie's and a star destroyer.

Casey accelerates more, trying to pull away from the oncoming Tie's. No luck, as the Tie's get closer and closer. Thinking back to Hera's earlier question, a sinking feeling comes over Casey.

Casey: It's a converted pleasure yacht, the only things we have to defend ourselves are some low grade blasters and fortified armor plating. Niether of which is going to do use any good as soon as those Tie's surround us.

Casey looks back down at the controls. A smirk crosses his face. Casey reaches over the panel, diverging all power from the blasters into the sheild generators. He then grabs the flight controls and swings the yacht 180 degrees once more so that it is facing it's original heading. Casey pushes that accelerator forward and the ship thrusts forward, heading directly into the upcoming wing of fighters. Barrel rolling and swerving side to to avoid the fighters, Casey continues to head directly at the Star Destroyer. Casey, still looking straight ahead, begins to speak.

Casey: Listen, i don't care who you are or what you where planning on doing with this ship, but if you want to get out of her alive I need to to type out the hyperdrive corrdinates for Tatooine. After we get out of this, we'll work out our stiuation in here.

[Hera]

The key phrase in that whole statement was "after we get out of this" and Hera was not so sure there would be an "after" at this rate.

However, the choices were few to none and as for where they ended up, she didnt really give rip. For the moment.

"I dont care if you tap your co-ordinates to follow the yellow brick road to Yoda's house, just as long as you do it fast."

The Cruiser loomed in front of them and the TIE's were now firing across their bow.

There would be time enough to put her own plans into play. Later.

[Lance Casey]

Casey reashes over to the control console and begins to type in the hyperdrive coordinates. He brings his hand back down to the controls before for glancing over at Hera.

Casey: If you believe in some sort of higher power, now may be the time to make peace with him.

Casey turns his head forward, a sinking feeling coming over him. He slowly moved his hand to the hyperdrive throttle, but pauses, coming through the conqequences of what might and in all likely hood, would happen.

Casey: Who wants to live forever?

Casey pushes the throttle forward and the ship begins to speed forward. The Star Destryoer became bigger and bigger as the they aproached the massive ship. Just as it appears that they are going to hit the Destroyer, Casey turns the ship to the side as the hyperdrive kicks in and the stars turn into lines.

[Hera]

The ship shuddered so violently that Hera would not be surpised if bolts came unglued and the whole vehicle unraveled like a metallic ball of wool, disembling into the endless horizons of space and leaving her and Casey strapped in their chairs drifting through the cosmos.

Yet the yacht held together. A miracle.

Casey decellerated and brought the ship out of hyperdrive, the streaking stars slowed and stilled, returning to their visually static state.

All Imperial presence had vanished, the viewscreen was clear. Even the clamour of the labouring ship settled, blanketing the two passengers in a deafening quiet.

But, it did not last.

They had hyper-jumped one very large problem only at the cost of another. Behind them, overhead conduits burst their seals and scalding steam shot from them into the cabin. Pressure gages on Casey's navigation screen fluctuated alarmingly and an internal warning claxon sounded somewhere in the lower deck of the ship. Hera got a sinking feeling that had more to do with the ships motion than with her growing apprehension.

"Are we loosing forward propulsion or something?" she shouted over the noise.

She got up from her seat and began searching the cockpit for a tool to stop the steam flow.

She looked expectantly to Casey. "Something got broke on that jump to hyperspace. Something big by the way we're dragging our butts"