The Road Less Traveled (Solomon)

[Arya Ravenwing]

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
The Road Not Taken - Robert Frost


Dantooine. At the end of the hyperspace route called Myto's Arrow, it lay deep in the Outer Rim of the galaxy. Arya Ravenwing didn't know much more about it.

It was possible that Loklorien s'Ilancy had been here in the recent past. It was also just as possible (if not more so) that the illusive s'Ilancy had never been anywhere near Dantooine in her life. Executor Sevon had seen the so-called Lupine on Cathar, which should have been Arya's first stop. She planned to visit the desert planet... eventually. Being deprived of her medallion by Esalis had made her grumpy, and she didn't feel like cooperating. Much.

She was still looking, technically.

The smuggler stepped out into the sunlight, locking up her freighter behind her. Trying to find work on Nar Shaddaa had been a bust, thanks to Whitey's attentions. Hopefully she'd lost her stalker when she'd left Hutt space. Somehow... she didn't think she had.

Dantooine was at the end of Myto's Arrow, as was mentioned previously, and thus was deprived of most of the normal commerce that inhabited planets enjoyed. She'd managed to pick up a load of textiles on the way down the Arrow, and though it wasn't illegal, it was still work. Just didn't pay as well.

The air was strange. Arya's nostrils flared as she inhaled, eyes closing lightly as the wind picked up and ran invisible fingers through her hair. Dantooine smelled clean. The sky was a brilliant blue, and lavendar grasses were threatening to grow over the open air spaceport. Arya found herself smiling as her boots stomped across the cracked duracrete landing pads. Hers was the only ship in sight.

Hopefully her contact was around - she was slightly ahead of schedule, but surely only one person would be expecting a freighter in today. She didn't anticipate a long wait.

[Kaast Dulli]

Kaast Dulli wasn't sure who or what he was looking for but he knew he was going to late to the rendezvous point, but he always was. it was the Kaast Dulli tradition, a good luck charm if you will. Dulli had picked up such superstations from his father Greg Dulli, who was an old space pirate in his own right. But Dulli swore not to make the mistakes of his father before him.

Dulli slowly exited his freighter Black Love and cursed his constant troubles with the criminal element of Cloud City. Well, it really wasn't their fault Kaast couldn't pick a winner in smashball. It just ment Kaast would spend more time smuggling and mercenary work to pay this ever growing debts.

Kaast spotted a ship landed a few hundred feet ahead. Well he said to himself, "time to get to work." He quicken his step and saw a women enjoying the over all experence of not being couped up on a space craft. She has to be my contact Dulli thought. There wasn't another ship, let alone a human for miles.

Alright he thought, let's get this stared. He walked up to the mystery women and said, "I'm Kaast Dulli, your contact. And you are...?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

A second freighter touched down, and Arya turned as the occupant exited and came towards her. She let him walk towards her, waiting until he came within earshot.

"I'm Kaast Dulli, your contact. And you are...?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You're late." The smuggler waved an arm at her freighter, laden with completely legal product. "I'm not getting paid by the hour, so lets just get on with it."

[Kaast Dulli]

"Short and sweet, just the way I like it," Dulli said to the mystery women. Dulli was taken back by her strange demeanor. Her body language was calm yet her speech pattern was aggresive, like a predator ready to strike. Dulli coolly walked past women and scanned the cargo. Dulli noted to himself that at first glance the entire shipment was made of legal goods.

Dulli had that same old sinking feeling. That feeling like betting big on a can't miss smashball tip and lossing or playing a monster sabacc hand a lossing on the river. That same feling Kaast had when his daddy died. Alarms were going off in his head. Being sent all the way to Dantoonie to receive and smuggle completely legal goods. Had Dulli been sent here to die? Only one way to find out.

Dulli looked over his shoulder, "So what's the catch?" He was ready.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She stared at him a little blankly, then turned her head to look in at the bales of cloth that filled her hold. "Look, I was paid to bring these here, so if you don't take this dren I guess I'll just offload it to the landing pad. I did my job."

A freight droid, bulky and a dull shade of blue, started moving in the back of the freighter's cargo bay. Picking up a bale of the cheap textiles, the droid began moving towards the two smugglers who were waiting outside.

[Kaast Dulli]

"That won't be necessary, the droids can place the cargo in the ship, if that is ok with you?" Kaast was expecting a confrontation from the mystery women, but she simply turned and walked back toward her vessel. Dulli thought he heard her mumble somthing about amateur space pirates, but he wasn't sure.

Dulli waited patienty as the freighter droid loaded the last of the textiles onto the Black Love. "Another Day another dollar," Kaast quietly whispered to himself as he finished another deathstick. Dulli looked around and spotted the the mystery women.

"Well, that's the last of it," Dulli said to the women as he made his way over to her. Kaast looked at her and said simply, "If you ever need a second rate smuggler look me up. I'm up for anything if the price is right."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She grunted non-committedly, and gave him a slight nod. "I'll keep it in mind." His deathsticks were stinking up the air around them, and she took a step back from him as her droid slowly returned to the hold of The Wing of the Raven.

Arya hesitated, then jerked her head in the direction of the nearby town. "Gonna get a drink, if you want to join me."

[Kaast Dulli]

Kaast slyly smile at her and said, "How could i restist such a warm offer?"

The two starangers walked into the unnamed bar in the small Dantooine town. Kaast observantly scanned his new surroundings. The bar patrons were a rough and tumble people. Not bad folks, but a hardened group of farmers and traders that didn't take kindly to outsiders. Their long and hostile glares made Dulli a tad squrimy, but the site of a bar was always a welcomed site for him. Kaast and his mystery companion grabbed two empty seats at the bar.

Dulli was impressed by his still nameless guest. She had a way about her, a confidence that kept the locals at bay. Perhaps the most impressive feat was she did this with making any effort what so ever. These bar customers may have intimidated strangers in the past, but they would get no satisfaction from this women. Kaast could tell that she had walked into many a place far worse than this.

Dulli made a motion to the bartender, looked respectfully at his guest and said, "Drinks are on me, but i still don't know your name."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She almost insisted on buying her own drink, but decided that it would be too much trouble. And hey - free drink. "I'm Arya." She pronouced it AR-ya, and then she swiveled around on her barstool to survey the rest of the bar. Some people looked back at her, others didn't. There was probably no more work to be found on Dantooine, though she would have to start asking questions about Loklorien s'Ilancy somewhere. There was a large Imperial operation going on on the other side of the planet, but s'Ilancy would probably not be anywhere near any Imperials.

It was only a matter of time before Whitey noticed that she'd stuck his tracking device onto a garbage freighter on Kuat, and then he'd be back on her trail. So she'd enjoy what privacy she had.

Turning back to Dulli, she added, "I'll take an ale - dark as it comes."

[Kaast Dulli]

"Arya, nice name, Barkeep, let's do some drinking."

The two smugglers shared drinks and silence for about 45 minutes. Dulli’s current drinking buddy seemed to enjoy the silence. She was a very mysterious woman, wise beyond her years. Dulli had a difficult time reading his guest. He could tell she was deep in thought pondering strategies and angles similar to the sabacc players Kaast knew all too well from Cloud City.

Dulli finished his drink looked over at his guest and said, “So, Arya if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your next move

[Rev Solomon]

A cloud of yellow dust boiled up from the road as a beaten old speeder rumbled its way into the west side of town - nothing more than a metal cab set on repulsorlifts with a wooden cargo bed that looked used to hauling hay, fenceposts, and farming implements. The speeder rolled its way to the spaceport, which did double duty as a landing strip for local atmospheric cargo flyers and cropdusters. There wasn't much to it - three or four square kilometers of tarmac, a couple warehouses, and a small control tower. Nothing at all to the major spaceports in Garang and Khoonda, Dantooine's capital cities, which, of course, were themselves tiny by galactic standards. It seemed unfathomable that anyone would travel thousands of parsecs to settle on such an insignificant patch of dirt.

The speeder ground to a halt in a sparse parking lot and settled to the ground, and the passenger-side door popped open. Out stepped a tall, middle-aged man in a leather mantle and white collar. He paused to pull a bulging duffel out of the cab and set his hat firmly on his head.

"Sure you got everything, Parson?" the driver said over the idling engine.

"Everything I landed with ten years ago, and then some," Reverend Solomon replied, hefting his bundle. "Thanks for the ride, Miles."

"I could come in with you - at least wait for the transport."

Solomon smiled. "Thanks, Miles. But I've got to go it alone from here. Besides, you've put yourself out of your way enough already for my sake."

"Not at all, Parson. Take care of yourself."

"I always manage somehow. God bless."

The speeder kicked up another dust cloud as it turned down back the way it came. Solomon watched it a few moments, then cast his eyes heavenward and said, "I sure hope you know what you're doing."

He swung his duffel up onto his shoulder and turned to walk into town. The weekly skyhopper to Garang wasn't due for another hour, so he made his way to the local watering hole. It was the sort of place many others in his profession would avoid. In other words, it was just his style.

Solomon found a seat at the bar and laid his hat on the countertop. "I'll have an iced Dantari tea. Unsweetened."

Glancing down the bar, he could see two patrons that clearly stood out from the regular mix of landworkers and mechanics - offworlders, definitely, freighter captains by the looks of them. Both seemed fairly absorbed in their own poison of choice, but they'd be a better source of news than anything he could find in rural Dantooine.

When the bartender returned with a tall, frosted glass, Solomon took his tea and shifted down another stool. "Mornin', Miss. How are the spacelanes on Myto's Arrow these days?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

She minded him asking what her next move was. Very very much. Too nosy. Arya decided that her friendliest option was ignoring the question all together and to order another drink. So, she did.

A hat was pushed down the bar towards her, and then its owner followed, with a frosty glass of what smelled like tea. Arya looked at him from the corner of her eye, and turned to face him as he addressed her. "Mornin', Miss. How are the spacelanes on Myto's Arrow these days?"

"Buzzing with activity," she answered. "So much work I could barely get away to come to my favorite vacation spot, Dantooine." The smuggler tried again, this time without the forced, lighthearted sarcasm. "Honestly, sir, its drier than a granny's..." Arya hesitated. "Well, there's not much honest work, and only a little more dishonest."

She welcomed her ale from the 'tender, and took a long swallow.

[Kaast Dulli]

Dulli learned one thing about his drinking buddy and that was ask a stupid expect no answer. Any chance of this run ending in adventure was slipping away, but all of that seemed to change in an instant.

A hat appeared next to Dulli companion. The mystery man struck a conversation with Arya. Dulli couldn’t believe his eyes, it actually appeared to be friendly. Kaast hadn’t be able to get a friendly word out of this women for about two hours, but this mystery man was able to do it in three words. “Well, well, this is getting interesting,” Dulli thought to himself.

“So Arya, your friends got a name?”

[Rev Solomon]

"I beg your pardon." Solomon nodded at Dulli and touched his temple - a sort of informal, rustic salute. "Solomon. I'm headed out-system, and we don't get much news from offworlders in these parts."

He wrapped a long hand around his glass. "Though, from the sound of it, things haven't changed much in this sector over the past couple of years."

The Reverend took a generous sip of his tea and waited. He preferred listening to talking when he had the choice.

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Didn't say he was my friend." Arya dropped a chit on the bar, and slid off her barstool. "Good luck on your run." Maybe she'd been too nice, inviting him for a drink. She'd had a partner, once, and wasn't interested in investing time with a new one.

Solomon, the guy with the hat, had mentioned he was headed out of the system. And Arya needed credits, desperately, having drunk most of her reserves up on Nar Shaddaa. She paused, half-turning towards him. "If its a ride off this rock you need, maybe I can help."

[Kaast Dulli]

“Solomon, you don’t meet a Solomon everyday, I’m Dulli, Kaast Dulli, pilot of the Black Love,” he said with a sneaky grin. He then turned to his drinking buddy and said “Arya, buddy, what’s with the ‘I?” WE can certainly help our pal Solomon here get off this god-forsaken rock. You never know, you could use some back up, and I am definitely back-up. My run can wait.”

Arya couldn’t believe her ears, but before she had a chance to rebut Dulli pleasantly asked Solomon, “So where are we headed?"

[Rev Solomon]

Now, that was what you called unexpected. He'd known spacers to be pretty choosy about who they brought on their ships. He also wasn't quite sure how a freighter pilot "backed up" a colleague on a passenger run.

I know you work in mysterious ways and all that, but this is ridiculous.

He turned a crooked smile toward Kaast. "'This god-forsaken rock' has been hearth and home the last ten years, son. Actually, I was planning on taking the hopper to Garang and looking for passage on a working vessel. Maybe the grain transport to Junction."

The thought had occurred to him of finding a launch point farther from the city and its security checks, and its token Imperial garrison. But he got to be a little suspicious when things looked too good to be true.

But even so... He turned back to Arya. "You've got your own ship, then. Are you charter or freelance?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Freelance," she bit out, shooting Dulli a venemous glare. Right now she was caring less about earing credits and more about losing her newly acquired leech. Turning to the other pilot, she almost growled, "Find yourself someone else to bother or we'll be taking this dren outside."

[Kaast Dulli]

“Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, I wasn’t expecting a fight here. I was just offering up my services. A simple no was all I needed.” Kaast said smiling as he looked at his fuming drinking companion. “And to be honest, I don’t think I could take you Arya. Solomon, Arya nice knowing ya, look me up if you’re ever in Cloud City.”

Kaast threw some credits on to the bar. “Hey drinks are on me, even the tea.” Dulli said as he exited the bar.

[Rev Solomon]

This girl had a temper on her - though maybe there was something between the two that Solomon didn't know about. Still, he liked to think things happened for a reason. He filed Cloud City away in his mind.

"I hope I didn't cause any trouble. Arya, was it?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"No, no trouble." She forced the scowl from her face, and tried to look as pleasant as possible. C'mon nice man, you need a lift out of here and I need money. It was a match made in... well, someplace they made matches.

The bartender gave her a look that meant it was time for her to move on out, and she gestured towards the door. "If you want you can take a look at the ship. The Wing of the Raven is a sweet piece that can take you where you're headed, Mister Solomon."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon paused, still in his seat, and took another sip for lubrication.

"Was there still an Imperial cruiser in orbit when you were on your way in? Got the whole countryside talkin', you know. Empire never showed much interest in this dustball until they started that archaeological dig a coupla weeks ago. Been a real hassle in the shipping business. Tightened security, random searches. Shame. Isn't it?"

His dark eyes flickered an unspoken question toward the spacer.

[Arya Ravenwing]

She hesitated, one hand still on the bar. Warning klaxon's were blaring in between her ears at his words, but there hadn't been... there wasn't a cruiser in orbit.

It could have been behind one of the moons, of course. Dantooine was so out of the way that she might have been too lax in her scans when she'd jumped in system. Whitey wasn't close behind her, and whoever was out here for the Empire might not know about her deal with Esalis and Khendon. Her pulse quickened, but she shook her head. "No cruiser. Archaeological dig, you say?"

That was interesting, but antiques were too hard to fence to make them something worth looking into. And if the Empire was still around, all the more reason to get away as soon as possible. Her eyes flicked towards the door, but still she hesitated as he finished his tea, unwilling to let credits slip through her fingers without a fight.

[Rev Solomon]

"I'm afraid I don't know what it is they're after. I've heard everything from a Sith Lord's jawbone to a buried Mandalorian battlecruiser. All I know is, if the Empire's interested in it, I think I'd rather keep my distance."

He drained the last of the tea and set it back on the bar. Then, gathering his hat, he stood and picked his duffel up off the floor.

"So, let's see this ship of yours."

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya snorted at the thought of a Mandalorian battlecruiser being buried on Dantooine, and led the way out of the bar into the dusty daylight of the duracrete covered landing pads. Dulli was already out of sight, most likely either in his freighter or visiting some other part of the tiny settlement.

"She'll get you where you want to go, and in good time, too." Arya extended an arm towards the ship.

The Chevette77 was a sleek craft, well built and sturdy. There were several modifications that had been made to The Wing of the Raven, most of which could not be seen from the outside. A larger communications dish and sensor array had been added, as well as an aft gun. She didn't expect Solomon to know the difference, and was about to tell him how fast the ship was when four white-armored beings walked around the side of the freighter towards them.

"Ah..." Arya faltered, brushing her black hair out of her eyes as the stormtroopers neared.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon readjusted his hat brim to block out the afternoon sun as he looked the ship over. Chevette77, decently modified. A good ten or eleven years had written their story on the countours of her fuselage. Somehow, that made some progress toward putting Solomon's suspicions at ease. He could lean to feel a sense of kinship with a ship like this.

Arya's interjection refocused his thoughts, and he followed her eyes to the group of stormtroopers clattering their way. He glanced briefly at his companion, then stepped forward to meet them, tipping his hat.

"Afternoon, officers. What can we do for you?"

[Stormtrooper]

The captain, the one marked with the rust-red shoulder pauldron, came to a stop in front of the tall human. click "Just a routine security check. We'd like to ask you some questions." click

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Are you the pilot of this freighter?" The voice was clipped and static-filled as it was expressed through the helmet's vox to Solomon. Two of the troopers had their heads turned towards Arya, no doubt memorizing her features and determining her significance in this little episode.

She stepped forward, shading her eyes with her left hand as her right remained down by her side. Casual, very casual. "I'm the pilot."

[Stormtrooper]

The captain turned his inscrutable eye-lenses toward Arya, then back to Solomon. "And what about you? Are you crew?"

[Rev Solomon]

"Just a passenger," Solomon replied. "Potential one, anyway. We haven't had a chance to work out terms yet."

"I see. Where are you headed?"

"Mid-rim colonies, by way of Junction."

"That's a long way from here. What's the reason for your trip?"

"Ministry." Solomon pointed to the white collar above his mantle. "Or, the will of the Lord, if you want to get down to the root cause."

The trooper took on a skeptical tone. "Uh... right... You got your missionary permit?"

"Right here." Solomon reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a flimsy for the captain's perusal.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya's eyes tracked to the flimsy Solomon extended, and then to his white collar. Oh great. A preacher.

A warm wind blew against her back, sending her hair into her eyes once more as the trooper studied the permit. He handed it back to the man, and turned to Arya. "Are you taking on any cargo?"

She shook her head. "No, but I dropped off a load of textiles." The smuggler reached slowly into her jacket and retrieved the invoices before she was asked. For all her griping about honest work, it looked like it was going to save her hide.

[Rev Solomon]

The captain skimmed the invoice. "Ravenwing, Arya... Corporal, scan this and run it through our records."

"Yes, sir."

"Is there a problem, officer?" Solomon asked.

The captain gave him a sharp glance - or was it a nervous one? Hard to tell with those helmets. "Had some reports about a rogue freighter over the western continent. Insurgents interfering with Imperial relief work. Apparently there may have been a Force-user involved."

"On Dantooine?"

"That's the rumor, anyway."

Behind him, one of his subordinates finished scanning Arya's papers. "Captain, there's a match."

The captain took the corporal's hand-held scanner and looked over the readout. "Uh-oh. Looks like we have a few flags on you, Miss Ravenwing. You had any run-ins with Imperial authorities recently?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Her face could have been carved from stone as she reached into her jacket once more and procured the ident card that Esalis had given her. It looked like a regular ID, but once scanned would give the trooper all he needed to know to keep his mouth shut and send her on her way.

If he didn't assume she'd sliced it somehow. She was good, but ImpIntel was better, and constantly updating their codes. No, Mr. Trooper would take a good look at his scanner, and then she'd be free to go. Until Esalis determined that Arya was taking too long to locate s'Ilancy for her, at which point the ident card would most likely read "take into custody immediately." Whitey would probably pop out from no where, as well.

"You might say that, though nothing serious. Routine checks."

[Rev Solomon]

"I see."

The card certainly seemed to take the captain's bravado down a few notches. "I, uh... I have pretty specific instructions. We need to run a spot-check on your ship. And any luggage you're bringing along."

Solomon's eyes narrowed. "Leslie?"

click "What was that?

The preacher's face lit up. "That is you, isn't it? I knew I recognized your voice. Three Sundays ago, you visited the St. Aubrey's Mission in the Daka Reserve. I talked with you after the service. How's your mother doing?"

"Oh. Um. That's right. Better."

"She pull through surgery okay, then?"

"Yeah, she did. Artificial heart's working and everything."

Solomon smiled broadly. "Well, praise the Lord. You let her know she's still in my prayers."

"Oh... sure, thanks. Listen, uh... looks like everything checks out fine. Have a safe journey."

"Thank you, officer. Good luck with the search."

The quartet of stormtroopers went shuffling off the tarmac. Solomon turned to watch them leave. "Well, that was surprisingly painless."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Indeed." Arya seemed distracted as she replaced her papers and the oh-so-special ident card. Straightening her jacket, she seemed to remember where she was, and turned to Solomon. "So are you catching a ride to Junction, or were you wanting to leave from here? I can guarantee you a safe ride to the Mid-Rim, if that's where you're really wanting to go."

She didn't trust preachers, and with good reason. There weren't many 'religions' who weren't out for all the credits they could get their greasy mitts on. Apparently God (in all of his manifestations, male, female, and sometimes hermaphroditic) needed to keep up the payments on his villa on Chandrila, and hundreds of expensive space yachts for his ministers. The stories varied, but were mostly the same old money grab.

[Rev Solomon]

The ident card hadn't escaped Solomon's notice. It raised a whole parade of questions on its own.

"Well..." He reached up and rubbed his forehead. "It might not be so much a matter of planning as it is a matter of funds. I know I can pay my way to Junction."

[Arya Ravenwing]

She looked up at the sky, as though imagining Whitey's ship appearing in the atmosphere and heading in for a landing. The press of time started to feel more urgent.

"If you can only pay to get to Junction, which, by the way, is Outer Rim, then what were you planning on doing there to get to the Mid-Rim?" Arya raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms in front of her.

[Rev Solomon]

He shook his head. "I honestly don't know. In fact, I might not be headed for the Mid-Rim at all."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Interesting." Arya's tone indicated that it was very much less than interesting. She added, "Preacher mumbo-jumbo, I guess, huh?"

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon laughed sheepishly. "You might say that. All I know is I'm headed for another port of call. Wherever it is, well, that's not really up to me."

He shrugged. "Hope you don't mind too much. I usually don't tell people right off because they tend to get self-conscious. Think they have to watch their step or risk a sermon. I like to think I'm not that kind of preacher, though."

He hiked up his duffel on his back. "So... Junction, and then, well, I guess we'll both see, won't we?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

We'll both see. Indeed they would. She adjusted her belt, the familiar weight of her rail gun hanging from it. "I have a private cabin you can use, but don't expect too much." He seemed to be eager to leave, perhaps moreso now than intially.

Before the stormtroopers, she realized. Even though he'd helped move the Imperials along, he was uncomfortable about something they'd said. What it was remained to be seen. "Payment is seventy-five percent now, twenty-five once we arrive on Feriae Junction, unless you'd like to pay it all up front." She nodded towards the fuel tanks off to the side of the duracrete. "Have to pay for fuel."

[Rev Solomon]

"I can swing the seventy-five," Solomon replied. In anticipation of the following question, he said, "Just sold a house and a pair of eopies, but the credits haven't rolled in yet. My accounts should catch up by the time we reach Junction."

Business talk didn't interest him - money was a necessary evil, as far as he was concerned. He was more interested in testing the waters with this new traveling companion, maybe sniff out her loyalties, figure out something about that ident card that had sent the troopers reeling. If she was in bed with the Imperials, so to speak, he'd much prefer to find out sooner than later.

On the other hand, he didn't want to slip back into old habits of categorizing everyone around him in terms of threats and resources. Otherwise he'd never be anything more than a refugee.

Either way, he doubted Arya would let him too deep into her confidence, but maybe he could at least find a couple points of contact - few though they may be between a freelance freighter pilot and an old-fashioned country preacher.

"Why don't I get myself situated inside - I'll have the credits for you in a moment. Let me know if you need anything else. I may not look it, but I do know my way around working ships."

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Okay," she said, "Just try not to touch anything you don't have to." The man had a very gentle way about him... he smelled calm, and it put her natural suspicions at ease. A little bit, anyway.

Arya let down the ramp and then gave him the mini-tour - "Refresher, bunk, galley." She brushed her hair out of her eyes, "Be right back." The smuggler clomped down out of the freighter and headed towards the fuel tanks, in search of an attendant, or droid, or someone who could take her money and fill 'er up.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

It was rather fortunate that Arya Ravenwing was so eager to escape the doldrum of Dantooine. Had she not be in such a rush she might have noticed, whilst giving her latest traveling companion the grand tour of her ship, that something was amiss. It was a very small something, but it was a something none the less. After all, all of the galaxy's great problems have to begin somewhere and more often and not this point of origin is a very small something. In this instance, the something in question was an otherwise very ordinary tank top, which had begun the day draped carelessly across the back of a chair, but now was nowhere to be found...

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon's duffel hit the deckplates next to the bunk. He'd strap it all down in crash webbing before they lifted off, but, for now, he just sat on the edge of the narrow mattress and let his head sink almost to his knees.

Stress and worry had built up a nice, hard knot between his shoulders at just the spot he couldn't quite rub out. Another port of call? Preacher mumbo-jumbo was probably closer to the mark. He'd like to say he'd seen a burning bush or heard a voice from a whirlwind telling him to pack his bags and leave his parish, but all he really knew he had was a sour feeling in his gut about the Imperials swarming the western continent. Heck, if he leaned on his gut really hard, he could probably conjure up a burning bush to tell him whatever he wanted to hear, but that wouldn't really set his mind at ease. The real damning question was whether he was running to protect his parishioners or his own wretched hide.

Solomon straightened up and pulled a credit pouch out of his jacket. He counted out the credit chits, at least enough to cover the launch fare--

That was when it struck him, a whole new kind of unease. It wasn't his gut; this was a whole different sensing apparatus. It started with a chilly tingle behind his ears and set all the hair on his neck prickling, made him flex his fingers and harden his jaw.

He rose carefully, steadily, and retraced Arya's tour from a few moments ago, venturing up toward the cockpit and peeking in through the cargo access, as if he suspected there might be monsters hiding among the bulkheads. It was just a trace, but unmistakable, less a presence than a fingerprint.

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Well that's that," Arya started to close up the ramp behind her when she came back into the freighter ten minutes later. Solomon was standing in the galley with a thoughtful look on his face, but she presumed that was how all preachers liked to look, and paid it no more mind.

"Junction here we come, eh?" She finished sealing them inside and turned to face her fare. "I got clearance to leave from the guy out there, guess we're the only people here now so there isn't much traffic to control."

Her nostrils flared slightly as she inhaled, and she finally hesitated. The preacher man smelled completely alert, a strange kind of smell to be coming from the unassuming being. Arya rubbed her fingers across her forehead and pinched the bridge of her nose as a headache seemed to be coming on. "Ah, so I'll just be in the cockpit if you have any questions..."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

In such a relatively small space, it was difficult to hide without the Force to conceal you. Even more so when the person you were hiding from had a nose like a Shistavanen scout. He had to move quickly, efficiently. There was no telling what kind of unseen trail he was leaving behind.

While serving the Empire, he had boarded more than enough ships carrying smugglers and brigands to know where the usual hiding places were. The cargo holds were the most obvious choice, of course, and therefore out of the question. Instead he had opted to slip down into the lower maintenance level. Down there was a myriad of mechanical sounds and smells - and no light to betray him.

In the darkness, he felt his heart rate slowing.

[Rev Solomon]

"Fine. I'll just get myself settled in back here. Let me know when we're taking off."

Solomon knew he sounded distracted, and that was not the air he wanted to project in the present company, but something had tripped those preternatural senses of his that hadn't been tested in nearly a decade, and it was difficult to know what to do with them.

He sat down on the edge of the bunk as Arya returned to the cockpit. He didn't feel much inclination to find a viewport and watch Dantooine shrink away into the distance.

Something... was not right here.

He pulled a leather-bound volume out of his duffel, opened it to where he'd laid the tassel last, and began meditating on the Word for clarity.

And, for good measure, he started reaching out with his feelings.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Let me know when we're taking off. Usually the pull of the planet's gravity and the hum of the engines were a good indicator. The smuggler let her boots stomp as she made her way up into the cockpit, throwing herself into her seat and racing through the preflight checks. Arya clicked on the intercomm, hesitated, clicked it off again.

The engines rumbled beneath her (well, beneath and behind) as the freighter came to life, and she activated the repulsors. The Wing of the Raven lifted off the 'crete slowly, and Arya turned on the intercomm again. "Might want to find a place to strap in, until we're..." She rubbed her temples again, fingers running over the two thin white scars that cut across the corner of her forehead. Definately a headache. "Until we're in hyperspace." Arya cut the 'comm, and pulled up on the steering yoke, the freighter straining for upper atmo underneath her.

Once she'd reached the appropriate height off the ground, the smuggler switched on the impulse engines and the repulsors whined as they wound down. The navicomp was chewing on the numbers needed for the jump to Junction, but it would all be ready by the time they were clear of Dantooine's gravity well.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The sounds of the machinery grew louder and Vega Van-Derveld's brow became a frown as he tried to block out the deafening hum. It was now time to formulate a plan of action, for how to precede. The woman was now traveling with a companion, a man whose worth and skill Vega had no knowledge of. Even if he could dispatch this interloper without difficulty, there was no telling what he was here for. Was he a necessary addition to the ship? Did Arya require his services in hunting down the rogue Lupine s'Ilancy. If only he had been able to feel outwards with the Force, all his questions could have been answered.

[Rev Solomon]

How then can you say to me, "Flee like a bird to your mountain!
For look, the wicked bend their bows;
They set their arrows against the strings
To shoot from the shadows at the upright in heart."

Solomon held his place in the book as he glanced around the cabin - there was a pair of bucket seats against the aft bulkhead with safety harnesses. But this crawling unease hadn't gone anywhere.

It was a strange thing, having led two very different lives. You thought you could leave certain things behind, but they had a way of catching up to you when you least wanted them around. His old senses were trying to tell him something, and he knew he wouldn't get a moment's peace until he tried listening.

So, with a sigh, he bowed his head and tapped into the Force. He was out of practice, but it was amazing how quick it came back to you. First he was confined to the cabin, but then his awareness blossomed outward to cover the whole ship.

There was a blight on the ship. An adversary who delights in violence, who casts a snare for the upright, whose den is a nest of vipers and all kinds of malice--

There was something else. A wave of agony, a change, and then a roaring beast seeking whom she may devour.

Solomon pulled out of it to hear terrible sounds coming from the forward section of the ship.

[Arya Ravenwing]

The headache was getting worse, and then suddenly it was a lot more than worse. Arya gritted her teeth as she pulled back the controls that sent the freighter into hyperspace, fighting the Change she could feel coming on. There was no time to wonder how, or why it was happening. She had to make sure the ship was safely on its way. Autopilot itself through... 'space.

She threw her restraints off, falling to the floor in agony as her physiology tried to change and she tried to stop it. Had to... close the door... lock it. Keep her... in.

Arya pawed at the controls to the cockpit door, and then it was too much and she convulsed in the doorway, pants and tanktop tearing away as bones shifted and the Change completed itself. The pain still maddened the beast, it wasn't going away! The vornskyr slavered in its madness and howl/whimpered, heavy claws scratching up the durasteel deck plating as it headed towards the source of its pain.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon remembered several run-ins with wild beasts while on his preaching circuit - kinraths, thules, even a stampede of domesticated piket longhorns. But the one that had frightened him the most was an encounter with a frothing-mad kath hound, a predator that would have been dangerous in its own right, but had lost its mind to fever. That was the sound coming from the cockpit - a tortured, crazed animal that wanted nothing more than to kill, even at the cost of its own safety.

"Oh, dear Lord... Arya!"

He didn't waste time wondering how a maddened predator had made its way into a starship a few hundred-thousand klicks off the ground. Once he'd snapped his way out of the safety restraints, he grabbed the closest thing at hand - his duffel, which was made of tough Bol leather - predators had enough trouble tearing through their uncured hides. The clothes, books, and other supplies gave it a substantial mass and bulk, and it was the best shield he could find.

He charged for the doorway in time to see a large vornskyr lumbering down the central corridor, seemingly in pain. Quickly, he turned the duffel upright so it blocked most of the hatchway and gripped it firmly.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Even the droning of the engine was not enough to drown out a furious vornskyr. In his trance, Van-Derveld heard the enraged howl of the beast, his eyes flashing open instantly at the call. It was one he recognized, one that he was becoming almost accustomed to hearing. He did not pause to consider whether or not Arya's passenger was quite so familiar with the cry of the Lupine. He was on his feet and moving quickly to the hatch through which he had descended into the ships belly.

There was no need to shun the Force now, with the beast already vexed. He felt the beast, as it tore through the ship, and he felt too another entity who he could not place – someone unknown to him. In the light of the main hallways once more, he followed the sound of conflict as the two – the beast and her passenger – grew closer together. He didn't suppose that whoever it was knew how to kill a Lupine but the existence of even the slimmest chance that he or she might know the creatures weakness was enough. It was Vega's duty to ensure the capture of his Master's quarry, and without the help of Arya Ravenwing their search would come very quickly to a dead end.

[Arya Ravenwing]

The vornskr skidded around the corner from the galley, long slivers of steel curling up underneath her back claws as she launched her lean body towards the back of the ship where the cabins were. The beast leapt upwards for the source of her pain, sharp teeth gnashing for a dark skinned throat, and slammed her heavy shape into his body.

She tore at his thick skin, and worried at the soft parts underneath until a book fell out of the bag she was tearing into and hit the vornskr in the head. Momentarily startled, the creature backed off, circling for a moment in the passage. The creature howled, starting towards the hapless passenger once more, but then her head whipped around. Two sources of the same anguish!

She slavered and barked, snarled and menaced, and then turned around to face the new threat. Hopefully it wouldn't have such thick skin as her first target. The tall white creature rounded the bend and the vornskr threw herself towards it, jaws snapping for its face.

[Rev Solomon]

What do you know. Saved by a second-hand copy of The Brothers Karamazov. Solomon noted with some regret that the binding had come apart again.

He cast about quickly for anything he might use as a weapon when the beast's attention was diverted elsewhere. Taking advantage of the reprieve, Solomon turned the bag around and felt about among the ruined leather until he pulled out a gleaming metal cylinder with three prongs at one end. With a quick twist, the power cell warmed up, and a blue spark issued from the pronged end.

The preacher charged back out into the corridor and leveled the device - but there was someone in the corridor, a pale man he hadn't seen before. If he discharged the weapon now, he might hit the stranger as well as the beast.

No time to question what the stranger was doing skulking around the Raven. As long as there was an angry vornskr loose in the ship, he was an ally by default.

"Give me a clear shot," he shouted. "I can take her down!"

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The vornskr collided with Vega with a ravenous snarl, sending both man and beast crashing to the floor. Having no desire to find himself the victim of the creatures lacerating claws, Van-Derveld pushed both knees upwards against its gut, then snapping his legs outwards in an attempt to kick the creature away. With the added augmentation of the Force his strength was enough to send the beast crashing into the opposite wall of the narrow corridor. The dark-skinned man said something, though Vega didn't hear exactly what, to busy trying to duck away and avoid another assault.

[Arya Ravenwing]

The vornskr was kicked back by Vega's powerful legs, sending the heavy beast smashing against the bulkhead. Momentarily stunned, she stumbled, scrabbling up to all four legs once more. Fear laced the air with green smears, though it was fading as the two-legs seemed to think they were getting control of the situation. Arya launched herself once more at the pale man, his scent tinted with something she wasn't familiar with.

The two-legs ducked behind a corner, and the beast managed to stop her headlong rush before running into another bulkhead. For a moment she paused, turning to face the pale man even as the dark man in the doorway pointed something in his hands towards her.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon's erstwhile ally had disappeared, leaving him to contend with the beast. He hoped the device he held in his hand would be enough.

Stunsticks weren't necessarily held in high regard on the Dantooine frontier, where nonlethal force was typically viewed as just delaying the inevitable. But Solomon preferred not to kill when he had a choice. That, and the stunner was physically more reminiscent of a weapon he had once grown intimately familiar with.

The preacher didn't wait for the vorsnkr to make a move, to get its feet under it. Once the pale man was clear, he stepped toward the beast and thumbed the trigger. A lance of blue lightning arced from the pronged head and struck the vornskr squarely between the eyes. The beam, properly adjusted, was supposed to do to nervous systems what an ion blast did to electronics. Of course, there was always a margin of error on either side.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya yelped as the stunstick hit her canine head, synapses firing painfully as the attack fried her nervous system. The beast fell to the ground, stunned but not completely out of it. She slavered and whined, legs twitching.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The pale man brought his hands together in a slow clap as he emerged from behind the bulkhead he had used as refused, blood trickling in fits from a wound on his forehead. “Well done,” he said, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

[Rev Solomon]

Fighting back his own revulsion, the preacher knelt a short distance from the shuddering beast. It... she... was still breathing, but incapacitated.

Then he quickly rose to his full height and leveled the stunstick at the stranger. The power cells whined as they revved up to full potential.

"Just who the frell are you?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

Down, but not out by any means, the vornskr was quickly shaking off the effects of the stun blast. Quicker than the dumb livestock the stunstick was designed for, anyway. It had not rendered her unconscious, and so the creature scrabbled on the deck plating with her claws, trying to get her wobbly legs underneath her once more.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“Save the questions for later.”

The vornskyr gave a growl as it struggled to stand. The stunstick was worthless, of course, unless it had been the mans intent to anger the beast even more. Anticipating that he would eventually have to subdue the angry Lupine, Vega had come prepared. He palmed something from a hip holster.

“Hold your breath, old man.”

There was a beep, as Van-Derveld tossed something small and round at Arya's forepaws. With his other hand he pressed a small mask to his face, just in time to avoid inhaling the cloud of green smoke that was spreading out from the grenade. The agent in the gas would knock the Lupine out cold, for a little while at least, and would do the same to Solomon if he wasn't carefully.

[Rev Solomon]

A brain soaked in adrenalin didn't switch gears easily. Solomon was puzzling over the seeming non sequitir when a metallic sphere struck the deck and began hissing.

He buried his mouth and nose in one of his thick coat sleeves, but he'd already taken in a mouthful of the vapors, and he swayed back against a bulkhead as his vision and hearing fuzzed. He let the stunstick fall to his side. Bravado didn't count for much against tranq gas.

But there was a trick of slowing his respiration - filtering out poisons... wasn't there? He'd forgotten how. For goodness' sake, he was just a country preacher now. He wasn't supposed to get caught up with people like this.

Solomon slumped down toward the deck. He had a tenuous grip on consciousness, but his lungs were collapsed and burning for breath. All he could do was watch the pale stranger and hope the air scrubbers kicked in soon.

[Arya Ravenwing]

The vornskr settled down to the deck plating, paws over her nose as the beast slipped into unconsciousness finally. The furry body shuddered, and joints popped and slid into new places as the creature was replaced by a naked, dark haired woman who was equally unconscious.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Vega shook his head. She'd picked up a Force user. He knew well enough not to touch the fabric of Force when around her, so it had to have been this man who had triggered her change. Stood over Arya's body, Van-Derveld found himself regarding Solomon with an accusatory glare, feeling a bizarre and conflicting sense of duty to her. No, he shook his head – to the hunt. That was it.

Whatever she had been wearing, it was all ribbons now. Deja vu. He sighed and took her marionette form up in his arms. Solomon, he left crumpled on the floor. He would return Arya to her bunk, where she could rest and recovered from the knockout. She was carrying a couple of wounds, mostly light burns from the stunstick, and for a moment - lingering over her still uncovered body, semi-transfixed - Vega considered trying to do something about those too, but quickly excused himself from the duty, on the grounds that he had no idea where the medical supplies were and that it was not in his contract to act as her nurse-maid.

Instead he left for the cockpit, to check up on their destination...

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon's first lucid impression was the labored whir of the fans clearing the last of the tranq gas from the atmosphere. Sight and sound was returning, and motor skills were lumbering along behind. Without really knowing how, he swung his legs underneath him and hauled himself up along the bulkhead to his feet.

The beast was gone, and so was the stowaway. And no sign of Arya. A part of him wondered if his memories of the past ten minutes were a collective side effect of the gas.

He stumbled into the hatch to the cabin and saw his eviscerated duffel. Arya vanished. A vornskr came snarling onto the deck. The vornskr disappeared...

Solomon pushed his way past the mental fog and into the cabin across the corridor. Arya was roughly arranged on her bunk, bruised and naked, but breathing steadily. With only a moment's hesitation, the preacher came to her side and lightly touched her brow, taking care not to disturb the angry red welt on her forehead just above the eyes.

After whispering a prayer, he slung his coat off his shoulders and laid it across Arya's bare body. It was long enough to cover her from neck to toes.

Straightening his white clerical collar, Solomon stepped back out into the central corridor. His intuition led him to the cockpit.

"Now would be a good time to explain yourself," he said sharply.

[Arya Ravenwing]

Arya's breathing quickened, and she came to abruptly, eyes snapping open. This isn't the cockpit. She sat up, then clutched her head as her eyes darkened and her skull felt like it was an overripe melon about to explode. Settling back down on the bunk, she heard the murmur of voices in the passage outside her cabin.

Male voices.

Memories came back to her then, mostly colors and scents. The Beast remembered everything, but Arya had never tried too hard to recall exactly what happened when the Change came on unexpectedly. Too many nightmares. She rubbed the raw spots on her forehead, though they were already healing up.

The voices outside the cabin were getting louder, and she sat up again, swinging her long legs off the side of the bunk and pushing off the long coat that was covering her. Grabbing inside a cubby the smuggler retrieved some underclothes (a tank top and undershorts) and pulled them on hurriedly. Whitey was on her ship, and she didn't intend to let him browbeat her passenger. Or whatever the frell was going on, she didn't like it.

Arya stumbled to the door, her nervous system a little shaky from the stun blasts still.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Van-Derveld did not move to acknowledge the arrival of Solomon. His attention was focused upon the various displays and dials that made up the cockpit.

“I am not accountable to you, preacher,” he replied. Even if his voice had been natural, not the product of a synthetic voice-box implanted due to – among others things - the deterioration of tissue caused by the Darkside, it was not hard to imagine his words sounding just as cold and emotionless.

[Rev Solomon]

"You're an illegal passenger. You're sucking up our oxygen and burning our fuel. To say nothing of whatever it was you were planning to do before that hellhound showed up. And now, from the looks of things, you've hijacked our ship. Where I come from, a dossier like that can get a man hanged."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

“I've done worse.” Van-Derveld turned in his seat. “But I''m not hijacking this ship. I'm making sure that we're still on course. As for my being an illegal passenger... I wouldn't be here if it wasn't necessary.”

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon met the man's cold, lifeless eyes. "And just what course would that be?"

[Arya Ravenwing]

"Bespin," Arya said softly. "We're headed to Bespin." She walked around Solomon, and sat in the co-pilot's seat. "No need to check our course, that 'hellhound' didn't throw us out of hyperspace or anything like that."

She turned towards Vega, then swiveled around more and faced Solomon. "My sincerest apologies for all... this..." Arya just wanted to calm him, and then she could yell at Whitey later. Yes. And she would, too.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Van-Derveld smirked somewhat at the sound of Arya apologizing to her passenger. He hadn't expected such sincerity from a smuggler. Without further explanation he rose to his feet. “Your chair, Captain.” He gave Ravenwing a curt nod then for a lingering moment allowed his gaze to hold on Solomon, before stalking out of the cockpit.