Cold Storage

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The cold, grey hulk of the Rostelana drifted silently through space. Far from the shipping lanes or common routes, the light cruiser floated in silence. Her lights were dark, engines still, and not even her locator beacon pinged. The Rostelana was a dead ship, and from the scorched holes surrounding her engines, it was easy to see why.

For over one hundred years, she had floated along, her fusion reactors having died out long, long ago, as had any who had ever served as her crew. Pocked by weapons fire and metorites alike, her skin was blemished and broken, but inside many of her halls still held air untasted in over a century. Cargo floated freely about her hold, save for one item: a box strapped down to the floor. The blinking lights on its side were the only illumination left running within the whole ship, and the only sign of power that would register on a scanner. The box itself was large, taller than a man, and wider, but it was not a coffin.

After all, one doesn't put a living subject in a coffin.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

beep-beep-beep

"Uggh"

beep-beep-beep

"Go away..."

"Captain Raurrssatta?"

At a sound beyond just an electronic chime, the felinoid's blue eyes opened. Just enough time in bed to feel that he needed a lot more of it. He ached from fatigue, but he couldn't exactly hit the snooze button on his obligations. There was no such thing as a 'night shift' Captain.

"What."

Still, he could be perturbed. Right now the ship had better be on fire to warrant this.

"You said to let you know when we ran across a derelict ship to test our warhead launchers on. I found one for you."

A deep sigh. Not exactly life or death. Still, the new launchers hadn't been tested with live rounds, so it would be a good idea to do that. Sure, you could bullseye an asteroid, but a derelict ship was a more realistic expectation of what you'd be shooting at. Cirr had spent a fair amount of time fishing for space junk on Layla to know that. Plus deep down, it was fun blowing things up when nobody's life was on the line.

"jI'm on my way, Ensjign."

Five minutes to throw his duty uniform on and make sure his hair wasn't a mess, and he was on the bridge. Easing into his chair, he gave a glance at the floating rust bucket before them. His eyes opened a bit, and he gave a low whistle.

"That's not a shjip you see everryday. Prre Clone Warrs desjign. Ejitherr someone lost a famjily hejirrloom, orr thjis has been dead jin space forr a long tjime."

Ensign Saine chimed in.

"Three hundred fifty meters of durasteel, figured you'd be interested."

Captain Raurrssatta nodded.

"The hull damage asjide, the superrstrructurre jis rratherr jintact. jI bet she's even got some sealed comparrtments."

Sensing his Captain's curiosity, Saine ran an in-depth scan.

"Well, no life signs at least."

"No, jI don't jimagjine therre would be, jif thjis shjip's been out herre a whjile.

"No power either."

That settled it, then. No sense wasting time on a salvage mission without any better reason.

"Alrrjight then, lets ljight thjis old bjirrd up then. Gunnerry, load two prroton warrheads. Helm, take us to safe fjirrjing djistance."

Slowly, the Novgorod cruised over the top, on her way to turn about at 5,000 kilometers for a test salvo. Until...

"Captain, maybe I was wrong about power. I've got a reading."

Cirr arched an eyebrow.

"All stop."

Rising from his chair, he headed to his sensor officer's station, and looked it over.

"jIt's localjized, whateverr jit jis. Nothjing shjip wjide."

He glanced back to the viewer, and the battered ship still lazily listing before them.

"Stjill, that jit's stjill actjive when everrythjing else jis out? Prrobably jintended to last."

He mulled it over. This was probably a waste of time, but they were already in the middle of nowhere looking at space junk. He returned to his seat, and paged the fighter bay chief.

"Prrep the Comet forr launch. Team of fourr, wjith space sujits."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben whistled tuneless as he maneuvered the transport (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/WR-542_Shooting_Star) he'd been... well, not given, but loaned, perhaps, was a better word.

He was just happy to have gotten a ship to fly in the first place.

"Now, little Jedi-lady," he announced as the Skipper reverted to realspace. Before them was a cluster of debris, conglomerated around a large hulk of an old vessel of almost indeterminate make. "What do you make of this?"

He had spun in his seat the second the ship had come out of hyperspace, grinning and gesturing out the viewport.

"I'll tell you what to make of this: This is a cake mission. Easy, open salvage. Nothing else around, no real danger, just us and an empty old ship with parts."

Ben smiled and sighed happily, closing his eyes and for once, enjoying his life.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Before the shuttle team was ready to deploy, a ship cut through the ether into realspace.

"Captain, reading another ship entering realspace at three-three-four mark three-four-five."

Well, now aren't we popular? Cirr watched the ship as she swooped in, and grinned wryly.

"Someone wjith a motorr behjind them, that's forr surre. You know that shjip class?"

"Not particularly." Saine shrugged a little.

Cirr educated his junior officer. "WR-542. Everry bjit as fast as we arre. Makes me wonderr what brrjings them out thjis way."

He turned to the Gunny, and gestured at the viewscreen.

"Get a lock."

"For the torpedoes?"

Cirr made a face.

"No, no, no. Trractorr beam. Qujick, beforre they get too smarrt forr thejirr own good."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

"I'm not a Jedi yet... or did it go in one ear and out the other the last time I said so?"

The young woman with the white-blonde hair was glued to the viewport. Not literally but, well, you get the idea. Her mouth hung open a second over the glee and surprise of what she saw out that viewport and then snapped promptly shut when the strange spacer they'd sent to fetch her once again opened his mouth. But she couldn't really... well, yes she could.

"I'll tell you what to make of it, bean-butt..." She started, turning her bright eyes back to the derelict floating just so close you could almost touch it. She tapped on the viewport pane half as enthusiastically as she otherwise would for the simple fact alone that she couldn't touch it. "...that thing is over a hundred years old."

And she punctuated every word of her somewhat accurate assessment of the drifting vessel's age with emphases from her voice and harder taps on the viewport. She shot a look back at the pilot, a nearly mischevous smile creeping slowly over her lips.

"Can you imagine what the thing must be like inside?" Siyndacha Aerin posed the tip of her right index finger on her chin as if that required some thought. "Well, maybe you can't, but I have a fair idea aside from what's gotta be a deadly lack of air in there and... say, have you even checked for any..."

Out of what seemed like nowhere, the ship lurched, shoving her harder against the bulkhead than she'd ever hugged a cliff-face on any climbing trip with Ordon. She sucked in a breath and shot Ben a very pointed look.

"Whatintheforcedidyoudo?" She breathed out all too quickly and entirely too accusingly.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben actually fell out of the pilot's seat and onto the floor from the distinct sensation of being caught in a tractor beam.

"I did nothing!" he yelped from where he laid. A hand snaked up to controls and deftly turned the ship around and pushed them as fast as they could go... around the derelict, hoping to switch the target forcefully. And they were moving, meaning that the tractor beam had only just locked on, and had another on cycling in; they needed to move before that happened.

"It's a tractor beam," he said in an odd mixture of a sob and a dry heave, pulling himself up to pilot on his knees, his eyes peeking over the control panels and out the viewport. "They didn't even hail us! I just got this ship, I can't lose her now!"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Quick, helm!"

Cirr could see it coming, but the problem with ships this big was that things like maneuvering took time, even for ones as nimble as his frigate. He felt the subtle inertia shift that told him exactly what the runabout pilot had done.

"They've cut us off, sir."

"Son of a bjitch, come about!"

The misfired tractor beam ripped a few hull plates off the cruiser from the glancing contact. It disengaged as Novgorod moved to maximize its clearance and get a better shot.

"Thjis pjilot's smarrt. Smugglerr smarrt."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben collapsed into his seat as he barely guided the Skipper from the deadly tractor beam jaws of the cruiser with shaking hands and a quivering bottom lip.

"Strap in, Not-yet-Jedi-lady," Ben said, doing the same. The cruiser moved further away and out, angling for another shot at him with the tractor beams. That cemented in his mind the conclusion that all spacers would have come to: these were pirates, looking to board and plunder whatever was aboard.

He waited until the cruiser was committed to an angle of attack and maneuvered once more to keep the ancient wreck between them and the very persistent cruiser.

"Oh hells, oh hells, oh hells," he repeated, almost mantra-like, while keeping his eyes fixed on the cruiser and its possible avenues of attack. The cruiser was fast, faster than he was expecting for a ship of that size. Unless it made a mistake, he wasn't going to have time needed by the navicomputer to plot a hyperspace jump before they would have the Skipper in its tractor beams once more.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

This was infantile. Bank starboard for a shot, and the portside projector gets cut off. Bank port, and the starboard gets interrupted. Cirr's patience for this had eroded the first time it happened. He had half a mind to blow the cruiser apart and deny the smuggler his hiding spot entirely.

"Malljin, open all channels. We'rre not chasjing thjis rrai'ko'kou arround that derrjiljict all day."

A few moments later, and the comms officer nodded.

"Open on all channels, Captain."

"Unjidentjifjied rrunabout, thjis jis the Alljiance Frrjigate Novgorrod. Cut engjines now orr we wjill scrramble fjighterrs and you wjill be fjirred upon."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Despite feeling the urge to pick on Ben further (she honestly didn't know where it was coming from, but he reacted so well to everything!), Sindy obeyed out of the lack of inherent stupidity within herself and scooted over to the nearest passenger seat and buckled herself in.

"Hey, cotton-brain," she started again, once she was seated and secured, "did it ever occur to you anytime in the past few minutes that you could, oh, I don't know... maybe try talking to them instead of acting like a jawa trying to flee a krayt?"

She rolled her eyes. This guy was utterly absurd.

"It wouldn't kill you to hail them, would it? Maybe before..." The comm sparked to life and a strange accent filled the air, making Sindy laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "... oh, guess someone is less of a chicken, huh? My bet's on the guy with the funny accent."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben jumped in his seat as the comm hissed out a hail from the frigate opposite them. He stared at the comm speaker and the controls for a moment as if they had suddenly begun spouting out words in some other language that Ben was unfamiliar with in the first place.

He grappled with himself mentally, sweat beading on his forehead until he looked at his passenger with the expression of a man holding on to the last lifeline he had left.

"You answer it," he said, nodding to the comm controls. "They're most likely lying to us about being Alliance. Pirates do that all the time."

He turned back to keep the frigate in his sight and make sure he was well position to fly away as fast as he could. His brow furrowed, and he turned back to his passenger.

"What's a chicken?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

A long sigh.

"Scrramble two fjighterrs. Let's not sjinge tajilfeatherrs yet, just flush them out."

Mallin passed the word to the flight deck. Within a minute, two A-Wing fighters dropped clear from Novgorod's ventral hull, and blazed ahead, their overpowered sublights closing distance with ease. Before long, they were close enough to fly by and have a pilot make hand signals that said in no uncertain terms they needed to cut their engines.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

"You, clearly."

Sindy sighed, sucked in her bottom lip and quickly released herself from the seat, and made no fuss about making her way over to the controls. She looked at Ben and just shook her head before turning her attention to the comm. She lightly cleared her throat before depressing the control to respond.

"Alliance Frigate Novgorod..." She started, "...if that is in fact who you are... this is the transport Skipper. I don't know who you are, but..."

She snerked. "...I think you've just about made my new friend Ben here pee himself. He's looking pretty shook up. Maybe you guys could cut him a little slack?"

She shot a look back at Ben and grinned, then seeing fighters drop into her view, giving a very clear signal. She mashed the comm button again.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding!"

[Ben Merasska]

"...I think you've just about made my new friend Ben here pee himself. He's looking pretty shook up. Maybe you guys could cut him a little slack?"

Ben's eyes widened and he slowly turned his head to face Siyn... Sin... Sindy.

'Why?' he mouthed, the most pathetic expression he'd ever managed on his face. And he was pretty sure she knew it wasn't about saying he'd pissed himself; rather, it was about saying his name. 'What did I ever do to you for you to do so horrible a thing to me?'

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Gold Three to Novgorod, we're not getting any response from the runabout. They're still continuing evasion. Permission to engage?"

Cirr stood for a moment watching the song and dance play out, still without a clear shot from the tractor beams. Something about this was...off. He wanted to know what, but he didn't have infinite patience.

"Come about forr warrnjing shots. Rremjind them we've got guns."

[Ben Merasska]

"Oh hells, oh hells, oh hells," Ben began chanting again. "Strap in!"

The two A-wings blasted past his ship, firing a couple warning shots. Ben, not entirely trusting his instinct that they were merely warning him to comply and not yet ready to fire on his pretty and very fast new ship, finally took control and grabbed the girl firmly around the waist and juked his ship first right, then left, and then down, desperately careful to stay clear of the tractor beams on the frigate.

"Hail them again," Ben said, letting Sindy go with an apologetic look. "Tell them that if they could try and not kill us, we'd be ever so grateful. They can use that old ship for whatever they want, we just need some parts."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy squeaked when Ben grabbed ahold of her and manouvered about once again. The hold was tenous but at least she wasn't being thrown against the bulkhead to go splat like a soft ball of play-dough.

"Alright..." She sighed. "...but you have got to learn to talk to people yourself, cluck-cluck."

Sindy pressed on the comm control again.

"Novgorod, my pilot kindly requests that you don't hurt his baby too much. He just got this ship and is unnaturally attached to it. He also would like to graciously invite you to do with the derelict as you please."

She looked at Ben, her thumb still keeping the channel open. Such a chicken.

"Better? I would have let him catch you. He seemed less likely to want to tear you to pieces in the first place. Maybe he really is Alliance." She mock-gasped. "A shocking idea, no?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr's ears flicked in skewed angled, betraying his confusion at that awkward request. To meet on a derelict ship that more likely than not had no power or atmosphere or anything to facilitate a meeting? What were they getting at. This was almost too strange to be a deception.

The Captain glanced at Mallin and gestured to kill the audio momentarily. He needed a moment to confer.

"Sajine, fjind the closest thjing to habjitable space on that shjip, and pass the locatjion to the Comet."

A long sigh, and he headed for the lift.

"Let the hangarr chjief know jI'll be needjing a space sujit too. And sjignal the rrunabout wjith the meetjing coorrdjinates."

This was a bad idea. He just knew it. As he punched the controls for the elevator, he wondered why he didn't just stay asleep.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben had to admit the logic in her words, but then again, she was a Jedi... er, a Jedi-in-training that is, and Jedi were always very logical. And Ben was never the most logical person to begin with; he most often reacted to a new situation with caution and reserve (or cowardice and liberal use of hiding places).

"Maybe," he allowed. He was about to add something to effect of, 'But I was scared!', but the sudden transmission of coordinates of a deck on the ship cut him off. He read them, and twitched, a confused frown on his face.

"They want to meet us, I think," he said. Reviewing his situation, he sighed and undid the crash webbing of his seat while lining up the dorsal hatch to a matching one on the derelict. "Let's hope you're right and that they don't kill us mercilessly in any number of horrible ways in there. Get the vac suits ready."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy smiled.

"Finally. I figured we're all a little too old to be playing tag, anyway."

She brushed hair out of her eyes and headed aft to prep the vac suits, all the while becoming more and more satisfied that she would be getting to be inside the ancient vessel, which was ideally what she wanted in the first place. As she got the suits ready and started to get set into one herself, she thought of what might or might not be in there, in the drifter.

"Hey..." She called. "...at least once we're on the derelict, if they wanna off us, they won't have to blow up your precious new ship in the process. That's gotta count for something right?"

She was certain she heard him sound off some unsatisfactory response to her half-joking question, as he finished manouvering the Skipper into place and came by to suit himself up. The next few minutes passed with nary a word from either of them, surprisingly. Afterwords, there was little more to do but to board the derelict and either meet their fate, good or bad.

She was fairly certain it was good.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On-board the Rostelana...

It was dark in there, which was her first observation upon stepping aboard. Flicking on her torch, she scanned the immediate area with it, looking primarily for any consoles. It couldn't hurt. She looked back at Ben, who was just behind her, motioning for him to go on ahead. 'After you', in effect. If she wasn't leading the way, she could focus more of her attentions on drinking in the details of the environment around her.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben held his own torch aloft with only a modicum of curiosity in his surroundings, and a small microgenerator in his left hand. He was more worried about what they'd find when they reached their destination; he was fairly sure it would be the distinct lack of people followed by being blown up from above with missiles.

Ben frowned as he took a step through a mostly closed set of blast doors and gave a look at another directly in front of them. These were, however, tightly sealed.

"Here, give me a hand," he said, motioning to a small console along the wall. Prying off the casing, Ben played with the wires for a few seconds before hooking a couple into the microgenerator. The panel controlling the blast doors lit up, if a bit dimly. "Let's close this one. When we are murdered, we can set it up so they'll have to blast their way through the whole ship to get back to ours."

Sindy might have said something distinctly impolite to that, but Ben, being of the more positive sort, decided she had only snorted. The blast doors closed, slowly, and their sealing reverberated throughout the empty, cold ship.

Ben looked over to see the panel for the second, already sealed set of blast doors lit up as well. Opening that one was just as easy, and they found themselves within the hold, and surprisingly, had their masks fog up slightly from the passage of air and the pressurization of the room.

"I'm surprised we've managed to get this far in so quickly. Unless I've got my dimensions wrong. And am I mistaken, or is this place... habitable?"

The hold of the ship was mostly dark, and Ben was distinctly anxious.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The hold of the Rostelana groaned and shuddered slightly in the dark as its atmostphere, untouched for a century, was suddenly changed. Cargo which had come free of its moorings, or had never been secured in the first place, floated freely about the hold in zero gravity, some of it now bumping or thudding into each other.

While habitable, the air was musty and stale, and the only lights within the hold were from Ben and Sindy's electric torches. Floating cargo made for a maze within the hold, though the floor at least provided one luxury in that it was steel duraplate, which would react well should the two intruders have magnetic footing systems in their suits.

With flashlight beams going every wich way, and reflecting off metal cargo casings, the small, infrequent blink of a tiny LED light on the side of one large box could almost go unnoticed entirely.

Almost.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Okay, so some things about space were unpleasant for Cirr. Space walks counted as a big one. While he waited for a crewman to check his suit's seals on the Comet, he had to resist shaking his head in denial over it all.

"Captain, checking voxcomm. Check check check."

The hiss of the air cycler could be heard as white noise behind the tinny-sounding vox. Cirr nodded.

"Comjing jin clearr."

The crewer gave Cirr a rap on his shoulder pauldron, and a thumbs up.

"Seals are good, all green. Is this your first spacewalk, sir?"

Cirr tried his best not to look nauseated.

"No, Ensjign, and wjith all luck jit won't be my last."

He looked at the corner of the crew compartment, where another two spacers were assembling a series of bulky devices.

"Membrrane?"

The ensign nodded.

"Affirmative. Our entry point is too deep in the superstructure to engage the ship's umbilical. We have to hoof it, and mount an entry-point portable atmospheric shield generator at the nearest blast door. If the seal holds, it'll keep atmo."

Grimly, Cirr prodded.

"And jif jit doesn't?"

The ensign cracked wise with gallows humor.

"We explosively decompress the compartment, and...uh...well you've got a very nice space suit. Maybe a few bumps and we have to fish you up with a tether?"

If looks could kill. The ensign retreated from that line of thought.

"Don't worry Cap, these membranes are a universal fit. Unless the bulkhead itself is askew you'll be fine, and if that happened, I doubt we'd have atmo in there anyway."

All this over a damn squabble match with a smuggler.

"jI should've just blown the whole damn shjip aparrt."

"Come again, sir?"

"Just let me know when we pop the hatch, ensign."

Cirr closed his eyes as they counted down. First, the pilot compartment was sealed. Then the atmo was vented. A few seconds later the bay door yawned open. The ensign gave his Captain a subtle prod, sign that it was time to open his eyes and face the long walk.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy rubbed the fog out of her visor, taking care not to direct the torch right into her own eyes. The woosh of air was a welcome sign. The helmet, being trapped in the sound of her own voice whenever she spoke was distinctly weird because she never did this enough to ever get used to it.

"Nope, not mistaken." She agreed, sweeping the light through the air before them. She looked out the corner of her eye at Ben, sweeping the torchlight to in front of him, then back in the other direction, arcing upwards.

"But all the floating cargo gives this room in particular a very chic possessed look." She drawled. "Don't you think? Here, hold this, would you?"

Sindy passed off her torch to Ben, whether he protested or not.

"I'm gonna take my helmet off. Please try not to go into conniptions." She began reaching for the releases on the helmet. "I'm sure you can do that..."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben shrugged, "dropping" the toolbox that carried the microgenerator and grabbing the torch deftly.

"As far as the instruments say, it's safe, if a bit under-pressured. Keep an ear on your joints and watch for dizziness," he warned. He'd been through several dozen wrecks and abandoned ships on salvaging missions throughout his life, and while this place was creepy, it was a familiar sort of creepy that kept Ben wary, but not anxious. People were much more dangerous than space.

Letting go of Sindy's torch, he hooked the toolbox to a loop on his vac-suit and shined the torch through the hold, paying special attention to the floating cargo.

"Some of this stuff might be useful. Maybe we should comm someone about this place. We'll be dead, so we couldn't take it out of here."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy lifted the helmet off of her head and tucked it under one arm long enough to turn and knock Ben in the shoulder.

"Knock that off, already. You sound like me the first time my cousin convinced me to go climbing with him. I was so, so scared of heights. But... I was six. I got over it." She smiled, flexed the fingers of the hand she punched with and set the helmet aside, so both her hands could be free and retrieved her torch.

"Anyway, I gotta admit you're right. Some of this stuff just might be useful... somehow, anyway. It's all about as old as when this vessel left where it was before it stopped moving."

She took one step forward and placed a hand on a nearby floating crate to give it a gentle shove out of the way. There was enough floating cargo to impede their progress further into the hold and there was something faint that was a vague 'taste' on the tip of her tongue.

"Why don't we keep going? Don't 'Little Miss Jedi Lady' me, but I feel like there's something here I need to find." Sindy glanced at Ben. "Unless you're happy where you are? I could always check things out for myself. I don't mind."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Once his foot cleared the last skid on the Comet, it was thirty meters of ether before superstructure. Reaching for an arm control to manipulate the thruster pack on his back, he gave a series of small bursts, easing him forward with the other troopers, gently closing the chasm.

The Captain could hear his breath quickening. He kept his eyes fixed to the derelict as the distance closed. Other troopers made landing first, and Cirr grasped for the first outstretched hand as he was pulled to (relative safety).

"Welcome aboard, Captain."

Still at a distinct feeling of unease, Cirr gestured at the interior of the bulk, where two troops were already preparing the atmo membrane.

"Get that thjing onljine and save the welcomes."

At least now he could look at his feet and not see to eternity. And not a moment too soon, as his nausea almost reached peak. After a few moments of tinkering, a shroud of blue energy masked the blast door they faced.

"Membrane online, sir. We're plugging in for powered remote access to the blast door."

After a few seconds, the light on the control turned green.

"Open jit."

Cirr grit his teeth. The blast door creaked open. The atmo...held.

Only now did he exhale long and hard. With the terrors of exposed deep space behind him, he was more than happy to confront what lay inside from behind the comfort of a gun barrel. His tactical light switched on, quickly followed by the rest of his insertion team as they entered.

"Hands up."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

No one moved. At least that is to say, there was no muscle movement on the man who floated before the boarding party as he was very, very dead, and had been in his advanced stated of death for a considerable amount of time, now, as the dessication of his body might well suggest. So instead of moving, the lifeless corpse in its once-fashionable clothing merely floated there at a jaunty 37-degree angle from the floor, before a small box hit it in the head.

[Ben Merasska]

There was a long, sustained groan throughout the ship, which made Ben pause, and cast his torch about the hull in a futile effort to see where the noise was coming from.

"I, uh, do mind a bit," he said. "It'd be better if we stuck together. We don't know what's in here."

Ben tried to remain resolute in the face of reckless curiosity, but his will was never the strongest.

"Fine. We're sticking together though. All we need is one good accident and suddenly one of us is all by their lonesome with a group of scary pirates on the way in to kill and/or maim us."

There was another long groan.

"That's got to be the blast doors nearby. They're close."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Ai'a naatiejethe."

Cirr muttered a bit of respect for the dead as he gently stepped past. Lost in space wasn't the way he would want to go, but it was a reality he'd certainly thought about. A strange way to gain immortality of sorts.

"Mjind the dead."

Cirr's men moved past the bodies carefully, advancing on the blast door at the far end of the compartment. Beyond it would lie the next compartment, and the pre-supposed meeting place. With a hand gesture, Cirr motioned his men to flank the walls on each side, and he followed, taking position near the access panel. With his frame shielded by heavy durasteel cover, he opened the hatch. Age made the device move lethargically, but move it did.

With the clearance granted by the open door, Cirr swiveled around and swept the area with the tac-lamp on his rifle, coming to rest on two figures inside. When he spoke, the vox, now capable of being heard in an atmosphere, came out harshly.

"Hands on yourr h-...Ben??"

[Siyndacha Aerin]

"That's got to be the blast doors nearby. They're close."

Siyndacha nodded and stepped past the crate she had nudge aside. She heard it, too. It was to be expected that whoever it was they were meeting here would make some noise as they moved through the ship... rather, the ship would protest with the creaks of aching bones. The ship was old, after all.

"The adversary is closing in and... aw, shucks. Me without a lightsaber. We are so doomed." She sounded nonplussed and distracted. Sindy was taking another sweep of the area in front of her with the torch when the words demanding a surrender of sorts were blurted, tearing the silence to shreds and causing her to throw her hands up... and then the accented voice said Ben's name. She whirled around, her hands coming down as fast and thankfully for the other guy, her torch didn't end up cutting across his face and blinding him.

She glanced at Ben, lowering her voice a little. "See, I told you, chicken-butt."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben had taken off his helmet, and despite the upcoming meeting with savage, likely bloodthirsty (and thus murderous) pirates, had succumbed to curiosity, and was looking at the different items floating around.

His torch beam highlighted a face, etched in what looked like stone.

"Gah!" he yelped, but Sindy didn't respond, likely all ready inured to his mannerisms, despite only knowing him for a short while. Returning the beam and his gaze to what looked like a relief sculpture, Ben frowned.

"Oh hells," he gasped. "Only some weird art thing."

A vaguely humanoid creature was blindfolded and looked to be in some pain. His arms were bound in front of him, and Ben could swear he'd seen the style of sleeveless shirt, trousers, and boots, somewhere before. As a sculpture couldn't hurt him, he stepped forward for a closer look. On the side of the panel in which the sculpture was made, a small red light blinked on and off.

"Hunh," he grunted. "What's this?"

Before he could do more than put a finger to the small panel at the side of the relief sculpture, there was the sound of doors sliding open and booted feet.

"...Ben?!"

"Guhwha?" he gasped, his heart in his throat as he tried to duck, hide behind the sculpture, and spin to face the owner of the familiar voice. All he ended up doing was losing his balance and gripping the sculpture to keep from falling.

Before he could focus his attention on the blasters aimed at him, the sculpture began to glow, and the vaguely humanoid creature was bathed in a red glow, and Ben was paralyzed with fear. Finally, the creature was freed, and promptly fell - perhaps floated is more accurate, though not according to the pilot himself - on Ben, causing them both to fall to the floor with Ben's torch spinning away in the zero-gravity.

Ben yelled, gripping its shoulders and holding it off of him, but everything had happened too quickly; all he could get out was a: "Gah! Get it off get it off get it off! Ahh!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Halajiin Rabeak woke with the hammers of a dozen spice mines pounding inside his head, and while he couldn't think of where he was, he knew he was experiencing the worst hangover of his life. Groaning, the yellow-furred Nehantite tried to move, only to feel something bump into him. "Guh-what?" he muttered, then snapped his eyes wide open as he knew something was very wrong.

The world was still dark, and he couldn't move his arms. Panicking, Hal pushed off with his legs against whatever it was that was trying to hold him, though it only resulted with his falling out of the carbonite frame he'd been trapped in and onto his... attacker, he presumed. But in zero gravity, falling is a rather abstract theory, and it took little time to roll off of Ben, but not before hearing the word "monster."

"Monster?" Hal asked, looking about fruitlessly as he was still blindfolded. "Where? What the hell is going on? Oh, Garfife, my head..."

The yellow Nehantite then groaned as he felt himself float free, and he had no idea what was up and what was down, even as he strained to move his aching arms up to pull off his blindfold. Immediately he squeezed his eyes shut, the glare of handheld torches nearly blinding him, and with some effort he opened them once more, now to see only hazy, blurry figures. "Gurganey? Is that you?" he asked, looking straight at the large, lightish gray blob that was Cirr. "Why'd you turn off the gravity? Worst rescue ever, man."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"What the..."

The sudden glowing light show baffled Cirr as it happened, and he instinctively trained his weapon again, followed in close order by the troopers on the assault team. As the strange embossed metal ingot began to disintegrate, he started to realize what was happening, and slowly lowered his weapon.

"jI thjink we've found the sourrce of that powerr rreadjing..."

Captain Raurrssatta tromped over in his grav boots, and pulled the Nehantite free from the scrum. He then looked back to Ben, the bewilderment evident on his face as he flicked back his visor screen.

"What the hell's gojing on, Ben? Mjind explajinjing thjis one?"

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy watched the taller, obviously-not-human guy who apparently knew Ben (surprises of surprises!) tromp right past her and yank the yellow form off of Ben. Ben, himself, was looking much more out of sorts than he did when he was running on the assumption that the other ship was out to tear him a new one or worse.

She watched the unfamiliar being ask Ben to explain himself - unlikely, what with all the squeaking, heaving, whimpering and whining sounds he was making, a few words could be made out ('You... Cirr... not pirates? Gah...') which made it pretty evident that he wasn't going to be answering any questions for at least a few minutes.

Sindy nipped back her lower lip, then decided to pipe up.

"Um... excuse me, Mr.... Novgorod." Gods, that sounded ridiculous, but the snickering, bullying bravado that Ordon had riled her in to was starting to wear off. "I, um, might be able to explain that. Mr. Merasska seems to be a bit, ah, indisposed with fright."

She nipped along her lip to the right corner of her mouth.

"You see, he was just out on an errand - fetching me, Jedi stuff and all that - but on the way back we came across this very vessel and, well..." She rubbed at the nape of her neck, talking a bit faster than what was ever necessary. "...I wanted to check it out more, 'cause I don't know, I guess I felt fascinated somehow with it. And then you guys showed up tried tractoring us and he got it into his head that you all were pirates or somesuch and got all terrified and here we all are now, with a terrified Ben..."

She smiled, slightly nervous now herself, and flicked her eyes away, holding on the faint dull sheen of the nearby bulkhead for a second before looking back at the guy, the other guy and Ben.

"...um, as you can see."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal couldn't see a damn thing. Well, he could see some light blobs, and some dark blobs, but both definition and color seemed to be escaping him entirely. As the others spoke, he felt around with a footpaw until he found something to hook his toes under, and once secured he rubbed at his eyes with his bound paws. Nothing made sense, and he didn't know any of these voices, not even when he strained his hearing.

But he did know one word, and it was from a voice he should have known, if she was speaking it. Jedi.

Clearing his throat, the mongoose then cricked his aching neck and said, "Hey! Excuse me, but, seriously, what the hell is going on, here? Who are you? You're not the Lorentian Syndicate, that's for sure, and which one of you's a Jedi?"

Silence.

Hal's tail swished, not out of frustration, but as he was still restoring blood flow to it. Glancing around at the blobs of different size and brightness before him, he finally let his shoulders slump.

"You didn't come to rescue me, did you? You're not Gurgeyney, either. Hell, do you even know who I am?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirrsseeto wasn't sure where to begin, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to begin here, on this ancient derelict. He also wasn't anticipating dealing with live cargo. That complicated things. Stifling a curse, he looked back to one of his marines.

"Rreturrn to the Comet. jI'm leavjing wjith ourr frrjiends and ourr guest on thejirr shjip."

Ben wasn't being helpful, the carbon-frozen alien was even less so. Agency over this clusterfuck fell to the little blonde girl. His eyes met hers, and his expression indicated that he wasn't in the mood for her to take his statement as anything less than certainty.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

As she briefly closed her eyes from everything that had just occured so very quickly, she pulled in a breath through her nose and released it through her teeth, then nodded and opened her eyes.

"Alright..." Sindy pointed her torch at the deck, and slid her gaze over to Ben and their 'guest', who was spouting off all kinds of nonsense. The time for snark and fun was long gone. That was clear enough. "...you're coming with us, then."

Sindy hooked off the torch on to an available loop on the vac suit and made her way over to Ben and the 'new' guy. Old guy. He didn't look that old to be honest, but she honestly couldn't tell. It was sometimes harder to tell with other species. She looked back at Cirr.

"Well, we have one gibbering idiot and one gibbering furbrain, but they both are..." She looked thoughtful for a brief moment. "...pretty incapacitated. Care to help me haul them back?"

[Ben Merasska]

Ben remained mostly still, floating in the hold and one hand over his heart; which had finally stopped feeling like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest.

"I... I can move," Ben gasped, settling himself upright, well, upright in relation to everything else. He was still shaking. He still had a salvaging mission to complete, but he could come back later to pick up much of the cargo left on this ship.

"Sorry about all this, Cirr."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

His eyes unable to focus, and clearly being ignored, Hal racked his brain to figure out just how he had gotten into this situation in the first place. Without being able to see a clock, he had no idea what time it was, but his stomach it had been far too many hours since breakfast.

Breakfast. That was the last thing he remembered, and it wasn’t from his kitchenette at home in the Jedi Order’s tower on Coruscant, it had been from some diner in an outpost, somewhere. But why? Why didn’t he eat at home? Snyapses fired and shorted out as the Nehantite struggled to recall the rest of his morning, with only a little avail. He’d been waiting to meet someone over a cup of stimcaff, but they were late; that’s why he’d had breakfast. Hashbrowns, some kind of sausage, two types of bacon, toast with marmalade, some kind of native fruit, and several refills of stimcaff. Blinking, he looked back up at the blobs of light and dark before him, noticing they had slowly begun to take more humanoid shapes. So he could remember exactly what he had for breakfast, but nothing after that. Super-sleuth Rabeak he was not, today.

Having breakfast at a diner certainly didn’t explain why he couldn’t see properly, or why his paws were bound, why he was missing his outer robes, or why he was in a cold, dark ship with no engine vibrations and no gravity. And terrible air, something was seriously wrong with the air, as it tasted musty, dry, and incredibly stale.

He did know that whoever these people were, he didn’t know them, and now one of them spoke of taking him somewhere. Despite his confusion and disorientation, Hal felt that to be a development he did not wish tofollow blindly, even nearly blind as he felt. Again he squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them once more to try and focus. Blurry blobs became more defined shapes, though color seemed to be an option his addled mind had decided to skimp on for the time being while running in emergency backup mode. The largest blob advanced on the smallest one, while the medium-sized had disappeared into the hazy background, somewhere. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be able to see clearly at that moment.

The medium-sized blob returned to the picture, and a voice seemed to come from it. Apparently whoever it was around him knew each other, but might not be on the best of terms, Hal guessed.

<O:p</O:pThen a hand – a thickly-gloved hand – clamped down on his right bicep, and Hal instinctively jerked away. Or at least he tried to. It seemed whatever had scrambled his memory had also taken a toll on his strength, as he only managed a feeble pull. So, with brawn failing him, it was time for the mouth to come back into play. His mind told him this was a good idea, but he should have known it was lying

“Hey, watch the merchandise!” he growled, hoping he was looking into his captor’s eyes, but probably looking at his forehead, or cheekbone instead. “Now listen, I am a Knight of the Jedi Order, I demand you release me at once!” For emphasis he pulled up his bound paws, the manacles locking one over the other at the wrist. “Also, could someone please turn the gravity back on? I’m getting a little nauseated."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr gave Ben a look that said he'd talk it out later. Which was probably good for Ben because his first instinct was to punt the faint-hearted pilot through a bulkhead for all the trouble he caused. Cirr erred on the side of being a nice guy.

He turned his attention to the formerly-frozen alien.

"We'rre on a shjip dead jin space. We can talk thjis out herre and rrjisk losjing what ljittle ajirr we've got, orr we can get you to safety and you can kvetch to yourr hearrt's content. Pjick carrefully."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal squinted again, this time having slightly better aim as he gazed directly at Cirr's nose. "That accent. Are you a Cizerack?" he asked. It was a stupid question. Of course Cirrsseeto was a Cizerack, no one else would ever choose to talk like that.

But, more importantly, this Cizerack wasn't trying to kill him, so that already made him one of the better members of his race that Hal had ever come across. "Safety now, kvetching later, got it," he nodded.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben didn't like Cirr's look. It meant Cirr wasn't happy with him, or at least was annoyed. And Cirr was a lot like a Wookiee in that regard: no matter how right you actually are, you don't want to get a Wookiee angry. You wouldn't like what Wookiees do when they get angry.

He kicked off a crate, and ignored the echoing sounds within the hold as he affixed his helmet to his head and pointed the torch out the pair of blast doors he and Sindy had used to enter.

"We need to hold on a second anyway. There's no pressure outside those blast doors. We need to get another vac suit from the ship, unless there happens to be one in working condition in here, somewhere."

Ben turned around and looked at the humanoid-ish being and sighed.

"You wouldn't know if there is one in here, would ya?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"I don't even know where here is, pal," Hal replied. The annoyance in his voice began to show not only in his face, but in his body as well. His tail flicked like an irritated cat, and his ears began to flatten just slightly.

"I remember having breakfast, and then I wake up here with a hangover from hell, and I can't see a damn thing," he elaborated. "So, no, if there is an extra vac-suit here, I have no idea where it might be. I don't even know where my outer robes went; I swear I was wearing them when I left the Temple, this morning."

The Nehantite stopped abruptly, then squeezed his right eye shut and blinked his left. "Woah, that's better, getting a bit more definition, now," he said, looking his new companions over once more. They were still out of focus, but at least he could tell what was a hand and what was a head, now. "Why not just use your universal docking shaft to connect to this ship? Wouldn't need a vac-suit, then," he suggested, not realizing that there was no atmosphere outside the hold, or that the ship he was on had several large holes punched in it by weapons fire. He also didn't realize he had a cowlick in his hair as a result of the unfreezing process, but that isn't quite as consequential to the matter at hand.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

"Why not just use your universal docking shaft to connect to this ship? Wouldn't need a vac-suit, then."

Sindy shook her head. As much as her curiosity had ratcheded up times at least a thousand, there was promise of being able to bombard the yellow-haired Nehantite with all sorts of queries once they were back in the... well, more-comfortable-than-here confines of the Skipper.

"No, can't do that. There's integrity only in some areas of this vessel. Unfortunately, one of those areas just so happens to not be outside the nearby blast doors."

She unclipped the torch from the vac suit belt and turned her torso only, shining the light back toward where she'd left the helmet floating about. Spotting it nearly in the exact spot she left it, she turned back to the assembled persons and lowered the aim of the torch to the deck. She then pointed the torch at Ben, taking a modicum of care to not point it directly in his face.

"You've got your helmet on, so I voluntell you to go grab another suit." She declared, one corner of her mouth upturned. "Since, you know, it was your idea in the first place."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr, growing ever impatient, scanned the room for something - anything that could work as a vacuum-safe option. He bounded to a far wall, examined a cargo container, punched the controls, and it's door opened, giving a tell-tale airtight hiss.

"That'll do."

With a heave, he upended the container, spilling its contents in the zero gravity room. With the box empty, he again reached for the Nehantite.

"Get jin"

...and proceeded to stuff him unceremoniously into the box.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Hey!" Hal shouted. Protesting as best he could, the mongoose struggled not to be stuffed into what might well become his coffin. But despite his attempts to wrench out of the Cizerack's grasp, his body was still weak from so long in carbonite, and in the end he wound up hunched in the crate, his voice silenced as the lid swung shut and the clasps locked.

"Great. Now I'm in a box. What else can go wrong?" he grumbled. His eyes, however, were grateful for the darkness as they continued to heal from the freezing process. Thumping himself against the lid, he then realized that now that the box was sealed, he only had limited air, so he switched from struggle to self-preservation by holding his breath as long as possible.

And, as another part of him woke up from the deep freeze, he realized that he also had to go to the bathroom.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

At the sound of 'get in', followed by scuffling and strenuous disagreement, Sindy lowered the torch from Ben, waving a 'never mind' at him with her other free hand as she turned her head to look at just what was going on.

"Or... we can do that." She mused at a low volume, then taking the opportunity to go fetch her helmet before the apparently short-tempered Cizerack bulldozed his way out, crate in hand. Sindy sighed, the fact that she wasn't quite used to this particular brand of hullabaloo finally setting in. Feeling only slightly defeated that just about anything she'd attempted to do to be useful had gone quashed or ignored completely, she made her way back to the ship to get herself out of the suddenly very restrictive-feeling vacsuit.

----------------------------

Back on the Skipper...

Siyndacha Aerin wasted no time in freeing herself of the vacsuit, and in short order was combing through her hair with her fingers and getting in the mindset of setting herself up with a little something to tinker with. Far be it for her to be without a little project in the knapsack and other small bag she had brought with her to whittle the hours away. There was otherwise a long, capped off tube that rounded out her few possessions that there honestly wasn't a suitable place on this vessel to spread out the contents of unless she were to consider the deck an option.

Ben had rid himself of the vac-suit on her heels and Cirr made haste in getting off the dead Rostelana and onboard with the rest of their small group. He had set the crate containing the carbonite-weary Nehantite and seemed to be almost considering whether or not to let the mongoose-like creature out. At least from the shorter blonde girl's point-of-view, that appeared to be the case. She seated herself on the deck with the small bag and began digging through it, lifting her eyes what seemed like every two seconds to see if the Cizerack had yet made up his mind. It seemed like an eternity to her (in reality, it was a minute, maybe two) and she started to feel concerned for the Nehantite. Having found what she was looking for in the bag, she used it to point at the crate while her eyes looked at Cirr, her eyebrows knit in concern.

"You gonna open that?" She queried, waving what appeared to be a battered ol' lightsaber hilt at the box. "That can't be comfortable."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Now aboard a ship with power, lighting, and a recycling life support system, Cirr seemed to relax a little. Without the luxury of de-suiting, he still bore a bit of discomfort until they linked up with his frigate, but at least he wasn't looking the prospect of gasping in a hard vacuum in the face.

Speaking of gasping...

"Rrjight."

...he quickly opened the hatch on the cargo container, hoisting the alien out.

"Easy now, easy."

Finding the nearest seat, he deposited the Nehantite in it, and leaned against the wall.

"Ben, now that you've fjigurred out jI'm not trryjing to kjill you, do you mjind headjing back to my shjip?"

[Ben Merasska]

"Yeah, well, maybe you could have been kind enough to hail us before the whole tractor beam incident," Ben shot back, managing to sound more shaken than confrontational. Even so, he started toward the cockpit. "I just got this ship. What would you have done?"

With a sigh of relief as he sat in the pilot's seat, he deftly detached dorsal hatch and moved away from the ill-fated ship, towards the cruisaer that Cirrus had so scared him before.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

As Ben (bravely) moved to dock with his former attacker, Cirr stepped forward, opening comm lines to his frigate.

"Novgorrod thjis jis Captajin Raurrsatta, prreparre forr dockjing prrotocol."

The marauder corvette adjusted her orientation, allowing access to the airlock port along her starboard profile. Cirr watched as Ben's sure-handed approach guided the runabout gracefully alongside, and the umbilical connected the ships perfectly.

"Novgorod to runabout, docking procedure complete. Welcome aboard." The crewer on the frigate monotoned his terse military protocols, and closed the channel as the light turned green, signalling much the same.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Small places are good places, small places are good places. Those five words ran nonstop through Halajiin's mind. Only by focusing on them, believing them to be true could he manage to keep himself from going mad and kicking, bashing and beating the crate open in an attempt to get out. Small places were the worst kind of places to the Nehantite, whose claustrophobia had jeopardized portions of his training, and had mostly come from being stuffed in lockers back when he was in school as a boy.

But a shipping crate is no locker. Lockers have vents; there was air to breathe and if you rammed your shoulder into the door hard enough, you could eventually break the lock. In his box he could already feel his air growing thin long before the gravity returned, but still he held each breath as long as he could. When at last he heard the hiss of the seals breaking and his eyes squinted at the reintroduction of light, Hal gulped for air, breathing in thick, heavy mouthfuls of it. And, while he typically would have said "Hands off, Mr. Grabby!" to Cirr, he was more than willing to be out of that box by any means. Even being deposited in a chair was better than in the box. Eating nothing but mushrooms for the rest of his life would be better than the box. Heck, deep-kissing a Hutt would be better than being in the box, metal bikini and all.

Ugh, why did his mind go there? Shaking his head to clear that absolutely terrible mental image, the Nehantite blinked and tried to focus his eyes once more. Most all the blurriness had now gone, but color seemed to be eluding him, and for all the modernity of Ben's new ship, seeing everything in black and white made it still feel like watching an old-timey holofilm. Seriously, whoever he was going to meet at that diner that morning was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

But now, now he was being ignored again. Funny, this crew went through all the effort to get him and being him back, just to ignore him. It almost seemed as if they weren't a rescue team at all. That couldn't be true, though, as the female had mentioned something about being a Jedi, so that meant that the Council had to have sent these other two along with her. Right? Well if that was true, why hadn't they unlocked his wrists and made sure he was okay? Glancing down at his manacles, Hal sighed. Thick metal with reinforced cabling, they were designed to be very difficult to remove, indeed. Whoever had captured him certainly meant to hold him for some time. Probably at least a few days. Thankfully his paws were at least bound in front, so he decided that as long as he was being ignored, he'd go find the head and take a leak.

By the time the remembered he was even there, he'd probably be back in his seat.

Probably.

[Ben Merasska]

"Captain?!" Ben yelped, even as the Skipper settled next to the Marauder class cruiser. The umbilical tube extended, and once again, Ben was docking with a ship. This time, though, it was a warship.

"I don't know which one I like worse," Ben murmured, conveniently forgetting his earlier assertions of 'cake' (apparently, the cake was a lie). He turned to look into the compartment behind him, and noticed something. "Hey, is our mystery passenger still in that box?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The mystery passenger was most certainly not in his box any longer. Instead he was in another box, head tilted back and breathing a great sigh of relief as he... relieved himself in the ship's head. A quick flush, a quick, wash of his paws, and then it was out to go find the galley. After all, even if he was a prisoner, it was against Republic laws to deny a prisoner a meal.

And by Hal's estimates, he was owed two meals, as it had to be at least ten hours since he had breakfast, by his stomach's reckoning. Maybe a bit longer, actually.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

"No, Ben. He's out of the box." She called back, stuffing the beat-up lightsaber hilt back into her small bag and sealing the bag up again. After toting the bag to be with her her other possessions, Sindy opted to find out for herself what the former occupant of the crate was up to, seeing as he was no longer in the seat in which the Captain (for it was simpler to pronounce than whatever actual name he had) had placed him.

Sindy made her way by the lav, running her fingers along the inches of the bulkhead as she passed from the lav to the galley, which is precisely where she found him, looking rather ravenous and about to seriously rifle through every cabinet and drawer.

"N-no!" She exclaimed, reaching out a hand in a sudden movement, then relaxing the arm and curling back her fingers when she saw that she had gained the mongoose's attention. "Wait... wait."

She dropped her hand, the other hand of hers held to the bulkhead just on the outside of the galley. Her brows knit, again in concern.

"Gosh, you must be hungry, considering... well, everything." She could only imagine what it was like, going a century or more without consuming sustenance - only possible in particular circumstances, as most life forms would die otherwise. She glanced over him, noting the manacles, then raising her eyes to the unfamiliar creature's face and stepping into the galley, motioning to his manacled wrists. "Let me help you? I can, you know, help... though I'm afraid we don't have a key for those. That I know of, that is."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal jumped at the sound of a voice, and he turned back to see Sindy there. "You're a girl," he said, sounding a bit surprised.

Immediately he straightened up, trying to look as dashing as possible while standing in what was probably her galley. "Sorry, er, that came out wrong, I mean..." he found himself stumbling over words.

Dang it, brain, just work!

Snapping out of it, the Nehantite started over. "What I mean is, I couldn't actually see any of you while we were on that other ship. Something's wrong with my eyes at the moment. Probably took a blow to the head by whoever put these on me." He held up his wrists. "But, yeah, starving. Haven't eaten since breakfast, and if there's anything you can do about these, you'd be lovely."

He paused, replayed his words, then corrected, "It'd be lovely! Not you. I mean, you look pretty nice as it is, but that's not what I meant when I said... oh, Garfife, this just hasn't been my day."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

She didn't know whether to object (Of course i'm a girl!), laugh (for the fact that the Nehantite was tripping over his words) or blush, as she was wont to do whenever complemented, accidentally or on purpose, by the opposite sex (well, honestly, compliments were compliments and she blushed no matter the gender of the complimenter), regardless of species. Instead it just entirely caught her unawares, her cheeks pinked slightly and she focused rather intently on the manacles about Hal's wrists until it seemed he was going to stop talking. Then she forced herself to look up at him again, feeling about as awkward as he sounded.

"My..." She started, only to suddenly realise she'd lost whatever words she was going to say. Sindy drew in a short breath, counted to six, then let it out and the words came rushing back to her. "...my papa left me his lightsaber, when he passed. I was thinking that... I was thinking in the absence of any other suitable instrument, I could probably cut the chains, but I'd not want to cut the cuffs off because I'd probably cut more than I should in the process. And I'm afraid I lack any sort of medical training and..."

She stopped abruptly, realising her mouth was moving faster and faster and it was winding her up only more and more. And she was running out of air, which was evident as she gulped some in and smiled sheepishly, feeling now that she might be acting a bit rude. The pink hue crept further up her face.

"Sorry... I get flustered and I start talking and I forget to stop and breathe, it's silly, I know."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's eyes brightened the moment the new girl mentioned the word "lightsaber."

"Heh, that's fine, I kinda do the same. Name's Hal, by the way, thanks for, uh, saving me, I guess," he said. Feeling more at ease, despite the gaping hole in his memory, the mongoose looked down at his paws, then back up to Sindy.

"Actually, a lightsaber might do the trick, and if you're worried about wielding it, I think I've got a plan," he continued, a smile growing up his muzzle. "If you can power it up, then lay it flat on the edge of the counter there and hold it in place, I'll maneuver my wrists around it. Should make things a bit easier, at least. And, sorry to hear about your dad. Depending on how long ago he passed, I might have known him. What was his name? And, for that matter, heh, what should I call you?"

[Siyndacha Aerin]

That did it. The pink had started to consider subsiding, but at Hal giving his name and thus pointing her to the realisation that she hadn't so much as even thought to give hers, her eyes widened and she gnawed at her lower lip.

"Oh, sorry! My name! I never..." The fingers of her right hand curled at her mouth, as if she were about to eat them. Father would have scolded her. Papa would simply have subtly pointed out the fact much, much earlier. "I'm Siyndacha Aerin... but just call me Sindy." Then, almost as an afterthought: "That is, if you want, unless you think you can manage not to mangle my whole first name. Whatever's good."

She breathed, trying in the background of her thoughts to calm herself. Sindy dropped her hand to her side and the thoughts of her Papa caused the red in her cheeks to begin to recede and a distantly fond smile to come to her face.

"Papa was my mother's father. I really don't think you could have known him... but maybe my great-papa. Or my great-great-papa. Maybe even my great-great-great papa. It depends, really." She stopped for a slice of a second, then added: "...on how old you are and... well, honestly, that ship we found you on, all encumbered in carbonite - it's over a hundred years old, I never thought I'd see a vessel that old outside of a museum in half as good a shape as that one! - in any case, what member of the Aerin ancestry you're familiar with depends on those things."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

For a little while, Hal thought he might be getting somewhere with Sindy. She was being quite friendly, and he had to admit that she ea pretty cute, though maybe a bit young for him. Telling the age of a non-furred species was so hard to do, and all.

But then came words which hit him like a succession of bricks to the skull.

Carbonite. Hundred years. Found. Museum. Ancestry.

His face looked like he'd just bee swatted on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper, and he stuttered and stammered as he tried to find words.

"Woah, wait, wait, what? Carbonite? What?" was all he could manage, his brain going into extra-special-reserve-stupid mode from the shock of it all.

[Ben Merasska]

"Hey, Miss Lady Jedi Girl," Ben's voice travelled back to the two. "I hope you found him, because we're due to dock with this frigate in a couple seconds, and I'd rather not have a search team on this ship."

Ben was in an interesting state of being, both mentally and physically. Physically, he was calm, collected, and by all who could see, an actually competent pilot and captain, in both manner and skill. Mentally, he was trying to figure out how to respond to the fact that Cirr - mechanic aboard a freighter, mostly quiet, and hot on Lyanie - was now a Captain in the Alliance Navy. Ben's normal response to Rebels was skittishness and sometimes outright avoidance, and where he couldn't he'd try to defuse his own nerves by making jokes, both bad and good ones.

Cirr's change in status, a thing Ben could have never imagined, was slow in being truly comprehended, and so the trouble over how to treat the burly mechanic - no, Captain - was one that translated into a state between anxiety and relief.

Ben also never liked sticking around large warships, and here he was docking with one, so there was always that, too.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The doors hissed open on the umbilical, and Cirr waved off the two marines assigned as "greeters". The situation was under control. He looked back to Ben, and further back to the little eccentric Jedi and the other...more eccentric Jedi.

"So, you'rre jin the Jedji thawjing busjiness now?" he wisecracked to Ben, giving him a strange look.

He tapped his comm.

"Thjis jis Raurrssatta. Have the doctorr meet us on the umbjiljical. We've got a...guest."

With the appropriate help called, he approached the girl and the Nehantite.

"How jis he?"

[Siyndacha Aerin]

And just as she was about to attempt to set right the Nehantite that she had personally confused - shoulda thought that one over, missy smarty-pants, now shouldn't ya have?... she now realised, that were he a droid, this wouldn't at all be an issue - the other nonhuman being - the Captain, remember, blondie? Ra-urr-ssa-tta. Say it with me, now. Force almighty, get your little blonde head on straight - derailed her train of thought, which was generally perilously close to coming off the rails half the time, anyway.

Sindy slowly eked her head around, most of the one-hundred-and-eighty degrees around to look at the Cizerack - G'damn, that's creepy, girlie. You gotta do that? Shit, you're all topped out now, aren't you? All overloaded. Fuckin' hell. - and answered him.

"He's not taking the carbonite thing too well. Hibernation sickness, I imagine."

In an strangely flat voice with flat eyes.

"I think he's broken, Captain."

[Vek Vek]

"Hibernation sickness is a fallacious diagnosis, as there is no contagion introduced into an organic environment to cause..."

Realizing he'd interjected in the midst of a conversation he only heard in the background as he arrived, Vek Vek blinked, and looked past Captain Raurrssatta. He doubled back, eyeing Ben over critically.

"Dialation of the pupils, elevated heartrate, signs of fight or flight stimuli having tragically..."

No, no, not why he was here. He turned and...

"Egad!"

Frowning even more, he pulled out his medical bag, and began to rummage.

"Omnicorius Nehantus, male, age indeterimate, state of molt possibly complicated by carbon storage...dreadful."

He paused, noting the reaction time in the eyes.

"Adaptive sensory deprivation still an issue. Will begin a comprehensive stimulus regimen once...sterilized."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Carbonite. The word kept running through his head. He'd heard of it before, and even invested in a company who was developing new uses for carbonite freezing, but what did that have to do with him?

Are you really that stupid? His brain asked.

Shut up, you're not helping. Hal answered back.

Oh sorry, body, I can always turn off higher functions, you know.

Not unless you make me get you a stepladder so you can reach them!

She's really pretty. You might have a shot with her, if you play your cards right.

What? I'm the body! I'm the one who's supposed to say stuff like that, and then you get all offended and tell me to think about personality and feelings and all that crap!

Sorry, we're in extra-special-reserve stupid mode, right now, so I'm down at your level, it seems, for the moment.

She is pretty, though, huh?

Yeah, and I think she likes you, too. Play that Jedi card, might get you some action.

She's staring at me.

Looks like she's not the only one. You've got company, and I heard the word "Doctor."

Maybe I've got some kind of disease or something, that's why we can't remember.

No, I just figured it out! You were frozen in carbonite!

I was?

Uh, yeah, that's why you feel like crap, can't see in color, and your short-term memory is shot.

Think it'll come back?

Hell no, dude, that shit is gone. You'd be better off trying to remember where you put Master Hopti's socks.

Oh crap, I'm that screwed? All I remember is the diner, and I'm hungry again.

That's as far as I go, too. Hey, they're staring at you, and that doctor is saying stuff I really should be paying attention to, but I'm not, for some reason. You should probably do something.

Uh, like what? You're the brains of this operation, remember? Like, literally.

You used that word right! I'm so proud of you, base impulses! But, uh... hang on, these wheels are gonna take some effort to put back in motion. I think you're on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Can you still have sex after those?

Don't see why not.

Whew, good. Okay, well, I'm gonna try something, here. Pull the kill-switch if this goes horribly wrong.

You kidding? I'll pull out the popcorn and laugh if something goes wrong! Go for it, base impulses!

The back and forth of the two halves of his psyche ceased, and Hal looked at the small group which had gathered before him. Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, he asks aloud, "Was I in carbonite, in that ship? And... what year is it?"

His base impulses having been left in charge while his brain was trying to jump-start itself, he then reacted to the doctor's last words. "Wait, sterilized? What?! Oh hell no!" His manacled paws immediately covered the most important part of him they knew of - his crotch.

[Vek Vek]

Vek Vek raised the fleshy pad over his left eye in curiosity.

"Fight or flight response also intact. Base cognitive functions survived the freezing process."

Almost forgetting the fact that he was indirectly spoken to, the doctor waved a gloved hand dismissively.

"Nonsense. Unethical. Nehantite reproductive cycles elevated, albeit unthreatening to biodiversity writ large."

He sneered.

"Coital necessities, if unable to be confined to the ship, ah, come at the suggestion of rigorous blood testing at best, robust prophylactic at the least."

He turned, realizing everyone else was more or less loitering and not improving the state of the medical need.

"Our patient is ambulatory, I suggest in no uncertain terms he be transferred to my infirmary."

[Ben Merasska]

"Then by all means, take him to your infirmary," Ben said, crossing his arms and watching everything unfold before him, still with his unusually calm expression and mien. Lyanie might have recognized it as Ben acting more like his old self, but she wasn't there to see it.

"If he's Jedi though, he should probably be heading to the Wheel. A whole bunch of them there. Hells, he might as well hitch a ride with me. I was taking little miss 'I'm not a Jedi yet' to the Wheel all ready."

He glanced over at Sindy, who was doing her own weird song and dance, or rather her lack of song and dance now. Perhaps the situation had gotten to be too much for her fragile mind also.

Even more proof the entire galaxy was going insane, excellent!

"Seems like she might need a bit of something herself."

Whatever was going to happen, Ben was adamantly sure that he wasn't leaving his freighter. It was enough to be docked with an Alliance warship, but to willingly enter into one... He'd more than enough of whatever craziness was following him around.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal gaped at those around him. His brain was still busy getting things up and running again, or maybe it was taking a break with a soda and a magazine (he wasn't quite sure), and so his instincts kicked in once more.

"Uh, hey, excuse me. Do I get any say in this?" he asked. "What's this about a wheel? And, can I at least get a sandwich while I'm in here?" He nodded to the galley around him, but apparently the answer was no as he soon found himself being escorted down the hall and toward the umbilical connection to the Novgorod.

"You know, you guys kinda suck at rescue missions," he snarked, shaking his head as he changed ships.

Hey, you working yet?

Oh, uh, no, not yet. Sorry, kinda got distracted.

I knew it! You totally don't get to yell at me for being lazy, anymore.

You are lazy, though, body!

Well, true, but still. Medical exam, think I should be worried?

I would be.

Gee, thanks.

No prob. I think I'm gonna shut off for a bit. I don't think I want to see some of this.

That's it, when I get out of here, I'm giving you such a hangover!

It'll hurt you just as much as it hurts me.

It'll be worth it, brain! It'll totally be worth it!

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr nodded at Ben, agreeing with his assessment. He was out of the Jedi protection racket, but they both knew the best options available on how to deal with Jedi came from the other Jedi. Besides...as he looked back at the Nehantite, he started to wonder if maybe being stuffed in a metal brick for a century didn't make his brain all jo'laakee.

"Agrreed."

The Nehantite spoke again, and the barrage of tricky questions and temporal quagmires present flummoxed him. Hopefully Ben and the weird Jedi girl could work with the soft glove approach.

"Why don't we all come aboarrd forr a spell. Hot chow and a brreatherr, and a moment forr the good doctorr to...uh...fjigurre out ourr Jedji frrjiend."

[Vek Vek]

Vek Vek nodded.

"I concur. Fructose and simple carbohydrates may help to encourage metabolic regulation and patient compliance. Quarantine period of a minimum two hours recommended, to ascertain the viability of any, ahem, heirloom pathogens potentially in the system."

Vek Vek pulled a series of small portable shield generators out of his bag and handed them to each person.

"Gas permeable quarantine fields to be worn until I deem otherwise. Will keep unwanted dander and microorganisms segregated from general warship population."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben looked at the little device, dumbfounded.

"Ah, I don't need this, because I'm not going," he waved his hand in the general direction of the umbilical docking tube, "in there. I've had enough of all this crazy stuff. Let me know how it goes."

Noticing that his hands were trembling, he quickly put his hands in his pockets and surveyed the assembled cast of oddballs.

"I've got to run diagnostics and all that on her anyhow. I know something got thrown off when I was dodging those tractor beams."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Halajiin Rabeak was not a fan of personal shields.

Not because they were a totally cheap move to avoid getting shot. Not because they could foil pickpocketing attempts, nor because the reeked of upper-class techno-geekery, or because they shimmered like a vampire from a bad teen romance holonovel.

No, Halajiin Rabeak hated personal shields because they hummed.

Oh, it wasn't a deep hum, or a loud hum, or a high-pitched piercing hum. Instead it was this mildly irritating hum which reverberated in his eardrums, amplified by the natural shape of his ears. Incessant, aggravating humming which simply droned on and on and on, driving him mad, all the while inaudible to most species. Oh yes, Hal hated personal shields, but as he managed to press the button on his own, he gained a whole new type of hatred for the device, and once more it had to do with his species.

"Mother F#%@^R!" he shouted, his jaws then clenched, neck straining as he tried not to unload more expletives. His thumb hammered at the off switch, but it was slow to react. By the time it did, he whipped his tail forward and held it on one paw, rubbing the section which had been unfortunate enough to be outside the reach of the shield and had taken a very nasty pinch. "Oh, that hurt!" he grunted, massaging his tail to restore circulation so that it wouldn't bruise. Then, much more carefully, he re-activated his shield and made sure to keep his tail close as he was led along to the infirmary.

Halajiin Rabeak was most certainly not a fan or personal shields.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Ben wasn't getting off the hook that easy. They still hadn't had their little chat, had they. He clapped a friendly arm around the human's shoulder.

"Rrelax, you'rre jin good hands. jI'll make surre to even top off yourr fuel. You thjink jI'd let you leave wjith a shjip that was less than 100%?"

He gestured to the umbilical.

"Hot chow, good company. jI know at least a few people who'd be glad to see yourr smjiljing face."

[Vek Vek]

"Ahem."

The doctor looked perplexed. The module was designed to only repulse micro-scale liquids and solids. He quickly inspected the device, making a tweak.

"Normally my patients are not of such a hirsute nature. Static discharge unfortunate. I will account for...ah...vestigial arboreal appendages."

His work quickly done, he blinked, a significant gesture on a face dominated by eyes. His attempt at a smile seemed strained.

"Now, nourishment and diagnostics. I would prefer to examine you when you are not languishing in a state of ketosis. Accurate picture. Better understanding. If afflicted by a terrible forgotten plague, treatment success more likely."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

It took a few minutes, it always did, and by the time she 'snapped out of it', they were already heading somewhere else - To the infimary, we go. Follow that doctor! Follow your new friend. I betcha noticed he was getting sweet on you, huh? - and the oft-times critical inner voice was blathering on, getting particularly spunky in times when her emotional faculties and personality checked out for a few minutes. Sindy blinked, blushed, rolled her eyes and activated the personal shield, as at least her conciousness had managed to keep track of everything going on around her. It was weird, checking out and still remembering everything that occured when she did.

Oh, that feels funny. Like a shiver up her spine as the shield went up, just in time to cross over from the Skipper to the Novgorod, only stopping a second to look back to see if Cirr and Ben were following along anytime soon.

"Come on, Ben. Be an un-chicken-butt! You can do it!" She thrust a 'thumbs up' at the two. "Come on, you guys. The disease train is leaving without you!"

[Ben Merasska]

Cirr was speaking in the tone of voice that said, 'Do what I say, or I'll make you do it while you're unconscious. Please. I'd rather not have to expend the effort.'

Ben could never stand up against that, especially with the tightening grip on his shoulder promising worse if this continued.

"You'll make me go anyway, won't you?" Ben asked tiredly. Cirr nodded, still sporting that friendly look on his face. Letting a deep breath loose, Ben gestured bleakly for the umbilical.

"Well then, let's go," he said, following the doctor, and the Jedi, and the not yet Jedi, with Cirr leading him in such a friendly manner into the belly of a ship full of lunatics.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Reluctant to continue use of the shield, Hal tried it anyway, and was relieved when it didn't snap him again.

Brain, did you get any of that?

...

Hey! Brain! I have no idea what he just said! I think he insulted me, but I'm not sure.

...

Okay, fine, be that way. But if I wind up punching someone and get in trouble for it, it'll be your fault!

In over his head, Hal nodded to the doctor, completely unable to place his species, and grumbled. "Fine. You lead, I'll follow."

With Vek Vek at the head of the column, Hal looked back at the others and wondered if he'd be eating with them, or in the infirmary. He hoped it would be at the captain's table, as that's often where the best food was, and hospital food, no matter what hospital you went to, was routinely worse than many of the diseases and ailments the doctors were trying to cure. Knowing his luck, it was going to be hospital food for Hal, but he would have to wait and see if the doctor was going to break him off from the pack.

At least Sindy was coming. Of everyone so far, she'd been the only one to actually really talk to him, and he hoped to see more of her, later.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The good news was that he got Ben off that speedy little runabout, so they'd be able to talk shop, and catch up on things (things like why he took off like his ass was on fire the moment he saw an Alliance ship striking colors).

The bad news? They were taking their meals in the infirmary. Or more appropriate to say, the infirmary nurse was delivering to patients under the dictatorial sanction of a quarantine. That meant no live nunas, no sandmaggot kidneys, no skipperfish, no oysters, and no sajoi.

Cirr stared forlornly down at the economically-compartmentalized lunchbox he was given. At least the main was a sandwich with meat, or at least a textured protein analogue. Honestly if it wasn't raw or rare, it might as well be one or the other. The only way he'd adapted to forrda food was to smother it in Nar Shaddaan spice sauce and hot pickles, a culinary crime he'd inheirited from Sanis.

Still, food was food. He'd eat it. Tucking in with the machine-like abandon that a Cizerack possessed from birth and the military honed to perfection, he barely paused for air as he watched Ben and Sindy enter the infirmary as well. Fortunately, the med bay was big enough to allow a few exam benches, which could tuck away when not in use. With their group and the doctor and assistant in tow, it was a bit crowded, but afforded enough room to stand and be out of the way, at least.

[Vek Vek]

Vek Vek tsked.

"Captain, the status of my priority patient is unsatisfactory. Full examination needed, full extremity modality necessary to evaluate dexterity and motor skill capacity."

He gestured expectantly at the restraints.

"Don't have a masterr key, doc. Could take hjim to engjineerrjing and get a plasma torrch."

The notion repulsed Vek Vek.

"Barbarians. When only solution is a hammer, all problems presented appear to be nails. Adaptation and improvisation."

He rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a laser bone saw.

"I will require your patience and no motion."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's pink eyes went wide at the sight of the obviously dangerous implement, then glanced down at the manacle block holding his wrists together.

"Are you sure that's safe?" he asked, a slight tremble in his voice, followed by a gurgle from his stomach as he could smell food from lunchboxes being opened.

Hospital food or not, Hal was hungry enough to consider that even the possibility of losing a paw might be worth it to be free to eat. Holding his wrists out, he shut his eyes and turned his head away. "Okay, Doc, just... be careful. And if I have to lose one, make it the left one."

[Vek Vek]

"Safe? Perfectly. Localized vaporization of metal. Not brain surgery."

He paused, moments before applying the laser saw, an expectant look on his face.

"Humor applied, awaiting dopamine release from punchline."

When nothing but horrified stares were returned to him, he gave a slight shrug.

"Will work on delivery. Rest upon the old idiom, laughter is the best medicine."

In the time it took for the doctor to explain his awful attempt at a joke, the binders were cut free. Aside from a slight stink of ozone in the air, nobody was worse for wear.

"Ah. Good."

He gestured dismissively to the small food parcel set aside for the Nehantite.

"Doctor's orders. Meal unit, extra fructose ration. I will, ahem, wait."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

His head still turned away, Hal opened one eye to look down at his wrists as he felt the manacles fall away. Both paws were still there!

Hey, look! Your girlfriends are safe! his brain laughed at him.

Shut up, you! And he didn't mean that, Leftina and Rightbecca.

Rolling his wrists out, he then rubbed them with his fingers before stretching his arms. "Man, that feels so much better!" Hal grinned, then opened his lunch box.

Hospital food or not, it was food, and he hadn't eaten in over a hundred years, though his stomach was telling him it was more like having just missed lunch and dinner.

Hal didn't so much wolf down his food as he did inhale it. His sandwich was gone in a matter of only a few bites, leaving behind only the distinct impression that it was a bit dry and could have used more mayonnaise. Slices of some sort of firm vegetable crunched and disappeared between his teeth, while both his supplied fruit cocktail cups and a cup of protien pudding were horked down and licked clean all without the aid of a spoon. When at last he looked up to grab his hydration pouch to wash it all down with, he could see many sets of eyes looking at him.

"What? I haven't eaten since breakfast."

A mighty belch followed, only barely stifled by his paw. "Uh, sorry 'bout that."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben was a spacer, and so was used to all manner of edible substances, ranging from the delightful (buttered nerf steak with a creamy cheese sauce and lots of vegetables of all kinds), to the bland (protein bars), to the absolutely horrible, but still had caloric and nutritional value (ever tried schinkin? Think dessicated insect stuffed with aged milk and cooked).

The food handed out in Cirr's med bay - the thought that this med bay was Cirr's really threw Ben for a loop - was just above bland, in his opinion. He ate just a bit more slowly than Cirr himself did, which was to say that he gorged himself.

"All right," he said, pushing himself up to sit on one of the beds. "We're waiting for... Mister Jedi here to get patched up and then we're ready to leave, right?"

He looked around.

"Not that it's not good to see you, Cirr," Ben quickly amended, "But I've got a job to do, and work's not so easy to find these days."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The Alliance is always hiring, nerf-head. The thought went unspoken in Cirr's mind as he finished his chow. That the Nehantite had plowed through his courses faster than he did was impressive, and almost enough to endear the crazy Jedi to him. A rumbling belch of his own, and the felinoid captain dispatched his refuse in the nearest compaction bin.

"jI'm just chewjing the fat wjith you untjil doc gjives us the all clearr."

He gave Ben a look, and then the blonde-haired pixie that was his (temporarily) silent companion.

"Fjigurred you had yourr fjill of the Jedji prrotectjion rracket, though. Thrrjill of dangerr's harrd to rresjist?"

[Vek Vek]

The doctor wasted little time, dispensing a small plastic lidded cup to the Nehantite.

"When the urge arises to evacuate your bladder, a sample is needed. Single unit lavatory, door to your left for privacy. Also..."

He reached forward quickly, yanking out a couple of hairs from Halajin's chest. He paused to closely inspect them, and when satisfied, inserted them into a test tube.

"Visible follicle root, live cells optimal for zero gram stain. Do you have a phobia of needles, Mister...?"

Formalities were trivial, but he had to assign the patient a name. It made processing easier.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben shrugged awkwardly. Cirr seemed to be a bit sharp with his tongue, for some reason. Still, the question was easy enough to answer.

"No matter where I go, the Alliance keeps sucking me back in," he said. "I do mostly salvage and courier transport stuff now, but I have to take the odd straight Alliance job now and again instead of all the indirect stuff that gives me more of an alibi when I'm boarded. This one," he gestured to Sindy, "was easy enough. I was there, she was there, and a suit said, 'take her, or you lose your ship', though in more words than that and the threat was more indirect and implied."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Hal," Hal replied without thinking. "Halajiin Rabeak."

Rubbing his chest where the strands of fur had been so forcibly yanked out, he sneered a bit at his doctor, not wanting to even think about what the cup in his paw was for, at the moment.

"And, no, no fear of needles, unless you plan on sticking it in my eye or somewhere even less pleasant," he snarked. "But as long as I'm thinking about my eyes, I've kinda got this problem at the moment. I'm only seeing in black and white. Think that might have something to do with being frozen?"

He still wasn't entirely convinced he had actually been frozen in carbonite, but if that was the story going around, he'd stick with it at the moment. Hal also hoped that this visit would be covered under his Jedi medical insurance plan, because he didn't exactly have his wallet on him at the moment.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"You sound ljike me, Ben. Orr at least, me thrree yearrs ago. Hopefully you fjind an honest ljivjing betterr than jI djid."

He knew Ben had issues with military life, even if he recognized ultimately who the good guys were. It was just interesting to see how their origins worked in parallel.

Looking at the waifish Jedi, he extended a big paw.

"jI haven't jintrroduced myself. Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta."

He left off his rank intentionally.

[Vek Vek]

"Hal..."

The doctor preferred the shortened version. Less syllables, more efficiency. Removing a pen light from his lapel, he shined it at the Nehantite's eyes, moving it from left to right.

"...follow this light. Yes, yes. Reaction time nominal, healthy retinas, no sign of necrosis or clouding of the humors."

Just as quickly as the light was out, it was gone again.

"Monochromatic vision normal. Temporarily. Atrophied sense left dormant by baseline low level metabolic processes during hybernation. Simile. Like a limb falling asleep when pressure applied to blood flow. Monochrome spectral sensitivity analogous to, ah, colloquial pins and needles as it were."

A protracted blink.

"Exposure to wide spectrum varieties likely to stimulate visual cortex's affinity for full sensitivity. First time to prescribe watching holomovies as conditional remedy. Amusing."

He seemed to pause an abnormally (for him) amount of time.

"I digress, the needle."

He glanced back at his patient, and frowned.

"Again, confounded by hirsute nature of the pa...Hal. Options present themselves. Must introduce topical antiseptic to the injection site to avoid complication. Suggest shaving."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal blinked his eyes, squeezing them shut, then letting them re-pressurize properly as he attempted to expedite the removal of that blue spot in his vision left over from the doctor's pen-light. Well, at least it would have been blue if he could see color, instead it was more like a bright white, with hints of grey just inside the corona.

"Sweet, movies," he chuckled, then realized he didn't have a holovision to watch them on.

He found himself momentarily distracted as Cirr introduced himself to Sindy, and Hal wanted to speak up, but before he could, one terrible, terrible word rang in his ears.

"Shaving."

A tidal wave of terrible memories flooded back into his mind, courtesy of his brain getting a little payback against the insults from his lower functions. He could see himself as he was in junior high, a lanky, skinny 13-year old, standing there in his underwear behind his class's jocks and bullies, all the while the lamentable buzz of electric clippers rang in the air. Fleas. The single most embarassing thing that can happen to anyone in school, and they had somehow infested some members of his class. But instead of just treating those students, the school put out a mandatory treatment to all students.

He could still feel the shame of having his yellow fur buzzed down to a short, slick coat, and the smell of flea powder tasted acrid in his nostrils as he recalled being blasted with the stuff. But nothing, nothing was as bad as the laughs he got from the older, bigger boys as he stepped out of the treatment booth.

"No shaving," he growled at the doctor, though he knew he might not have much of a choice. And he didn't even know where Vek Vek might be planning to stick him.

[Vek Vek]

"Response anticipated, alternative suggestion available."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Needle insertion in anatomical zones both devoid of body hair and with healthy blood flow. Zones unsaid for discretion. Use imagination."

[Kiera Sontebren]

"I'd take the shaving, big boy," a voice said lowly from behind the small doctor. Vek turned, revealing a woman in a form fitting body-suit, made of what seemed to be durable materials, and boots; a much different appearance than the amphibian.

"Officer Vek," she said, nodding in greeting. "It seems crowded in here, but don't worry, I won't be long. I just need to grab some materials, and I'll be out of your way."

She turned, and picked up a datapad from the counter top. Behind her, someone began coughing loudly.

"I do hope that's not contagious," she said with a light grin.

[Ben Merasska]

"You sound ljike me, Ben. Orr at least, me thrree yearrs ago. Hopefully you fjind an honest ljivjing betterr than jI djid."

"I hope so, too," Ben replied, leaning back on the bed he'd claimed. He was actually waiting to be reprimanded and told to get off, but it hadn't happened yet.

Ben was at first too focussed on Cirr to pay attention to the Jedi and the doctor. With the lull in the conversation, Ben gave more attention to what was going on in front of him, past the Jedi, Cizerack, and the girl who was going to be a Jedi.

"It seems crowded in here, but don't worry, I won't be long. I just need to grab some materials, and I'll be out of your way."

The voice was eerily familiar, but it was the backside and the slight glimpse of her face that really brought it all back. Ben's eyes widened and he started coughing.

She said something, but he wasn't really paying attention. Instead, he rolled off the bed, and hit the floor with a dull thud.

His life was turning into a bad holodrama. And he wasn't even the star! He seemed to be the recurring character they brought in to help push a lagging plotline along.

Despite the pain of impacting on the not so comfortable floor, Ben remained where he was, desperately hoping to avoid interacting with a part of his past once more.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Needle insertion in anatomical zones both devoid of body hair and with healthy blood flow. Zones unsaid for discretion. Use imagination."

The doctor's words caused Hal's face to contort a bit as he tried to think of what was meant. The only parts of his body not covered by fur were the pads on his paws and feet, and his...

The Nehantite's pink eyes went wide with realization, and he shot a glare which fired daggers at the alien doctor. "Oh. Hell. No."

He wants to put his needle in your-

I know! Hal's lower functions cut off his brain as he squirmed a bit.

Well, it's either that or shave something...

I know, I'm thinking it over.

Really? You'd actually let him-

I don't want to look like an idiot with a bald spot! What'll the ladies think?

They might be more concerned that you let some strange man pierce your junk.

Well, they wouldn't be able to tell, now would they?

I don't think you're going to get much privacy, here.

The others could leave.

What, and miss out on the show?

It was at that time that Kiera voiced her oh-so-unnecessary opinion on the matter, and Hal's ears wilted. She was right, better to lose some fur than lose dignity. But the following crash of Ben hitting the floor made Hal jump, and he looked up and asked, "Hey, you okay?"

At the rumble of Vek clearing his throat, Hal sighed and then extended his left arm. "Fine, shave, I guess. But only a really, really small spot, got it?"

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy smiled, having also polished off the contents of the lunchbox that they'd all similarly been given and took the large paw of the Cizerack with a small hand of her own - as best as she could, in any case.

"Siyndacha Aerin. But most people like to call me Sindy after butchering my name a few times." Her smile turned to a laughter-smile, showing a scant flash of tooth at one corner of her mouth. "Nice to meet you, um, Cirrsseeto."

She grimaced, looking sheepish in the eyes, her brow furrowed briefly and she freed her hand from his big paw. "Tch. I fumbled it, didn't I?"

[Lyanie Quez]

"No, you got it about right!..." Lyanie announced cheerfully, as she ventured into the room, only to stop immediately in utter suprise upon the realization that she was beyond merely acquainted with everyone in the room. "...Sindy?"

The girl, who was conversing with Cirr, beamed a smile at her... well, she wasn't quite sure what their relationship was since her stuck-up, self-important sibling had divorced Sindy's cousin on account of his supposed infidelity - that was infact hers. D'Lyanettea Meresco Quez was acquainted with everyone in the area, that is, save for the doctor and the furred creature he appeared to be... shaving? She shook her head and looked to those she was familiar with.

"Heya Ben..." She grinned with the lightest hint of slyness. "...nice to see you too, Keira. Been a while, hasn't it?"

Lyanie flicked her gaze briefly to Cirr, a particular look flashing across her face that plainly indicated she was more than happy to see him, before looking quite plainly at Ben, who seemed more than content to hide on the floor.

[Kiera Sontebren]

"Lyanie!" Kiera said, smiling widely and hugging her old acquaintance. And then she looked around, her smile dimming a bit, before she blinked and looked around. A pair of boots on a pair of feet on the floor caught her attention, and she walked her way over to look at the man on the floor doing his best impression of invisibility.

"Lyanie, didn't you tell me Ben died? On Yavin? He crashed onto the moon. That's what you told me. So why is he here, hiding beside the bed?" Kiera's smile stopped being cheery and began to be a bit threatening. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the pilot try to escape by rolling under the bed, but found that there was no space underneath it to roll.

She frowned a bit, wondering what had happened to the man to change him, but instead focussed on more important things. The Captain of the Novgorod, Cirrsseeto, was busy trying to meld into the scenery while at the same time attempting to hold in laughter.

[Ben Merasska]

Ben was in the midst of being surrounded on all sides by insanity - namely, two Jedi, one of whom had been frozen for one hundred years, and a doctor who seemed to take it all in stride, as if this sort of thing happened every day. He now also had to deal with the fact that Lyanie was apparently on the same ship as Cirr, who was Captain of his own Alliance cruiser, where his beautiful ex-girlfriend, who apparently had believed him dead for about six years on the word of his best friend, who happened to be a female herself, just happens to show up.

His life was a bad holodrama. It had to be. This couldn't be coincidence.

What's next? An evil twin?

Ben tried to roll away once he was seen by the still beautiful Sontebren, but the hospital bed wasn't made to be completely detachable.

"Right," he muttered, his face pressed against the corner where the bed met the floor, "repulsor stretchers. Forgot about that."

He rolled onto his back and pushed himself up. This couldn't be real. He had to be dreaming. He pinched himself, and began swearing internally when it stung, but not nearly enough to really wake himself up if he was sleeping.

He pinched himself again.

[Vek Vek]

"Patients..."

Vek Vek, in the midst of shaving away a medallion-sized patch of fur on Hal's upper arm, suddenly stopped and rebuked his entourage.

"...and nurse. This is an infirmary, not a social function. Not above ruthless application of sedatives to restore orderly medical procedure."

He looked back to the high-strung Nehantite, who was suddenly his least misbehaving patient.

"Apologies, Hal. Attention now undivided. Veins healthy. Cardiovascular system robust. Fructose found its mark."

He fastidiously swabbed down the bare patch of skin, and with the swiftness of a Noghri assassin, brandished a needle and slipped it into a vein without so much as an invitation for discomfort. Behind the needle, a plastic tube collected the deep crimson blood as it gently flowed.

"One more tube. Will finish soon. Test for parasites first, then more thorough testing."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Though still not at ease, Hal allowed himself a chuckle at Vek's sedative joke, and he admired the precision with which he found his arm so deftly skewered.

Watching as his blood flowed, he smirked. "Careful, now, that stuff's vintage."

Despite all he had seen he still didn't believe he'd been in cold storage for over a hundred years. That sort of thing just didn't happen, especially not to him. Maybe in a space opera, but not to him.

Hey, you coming back online, yet?

No, I think we're still in shock. Most of my lanes are still closed.

Well hurry up, then. After this doctor is done poking around in me, we'll need to look smart, so I need you.

Oh, so now you need me. Fine, fine, s long as he hasn't slipped you with something else, I'll see if I can get us back in shape.

That's all I ask.

Really? I would have thoughtw-

And I want a Fjerarriii topless speeder.

Good luck affording it. Now let me get back to work.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

An impressed look crossed Cirrsseeto's face at Sindy's subtle pronounciation.

"Spent tjime on the motherr worrlds? That's perrfect jinflectjion."

And then Lyanie walked in. Walking a tight rope between his professional and personal life, he greeted her with a warm smile.

"Hello Ljieutenant."

There were other things he'd say to her, alone, but in the company of others, he was her Captain and she was one of his engineers. Still, there were things to share in public. A look that lingered a moment more than it normally would, a smile reserved just for her.

And then, all hell broke loose. Cirr watched dawning realization spread from Lyanie to Sindy, Sindy to Lyanie, Lyanie to Kiera, Kiera to Ben, Ben to Kiera, Ben to Lyanie. His ears twitched. He was going to ask exactly what the hell was going on, until the Doctor put drastic measures into place. Instead, he glanced back to Lyanie with a what the hell expression on his face. She'd clue him in later.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

"Spent tjime on the motherr worrlds? That's perrfect jinflectjion."

Sindy gave Cirr a supremely blank look.

“I, um...” Her thin face scrunched, sporting some confusion and then, as if a switch had been flight and a light had been set alive, her face cleared and beamed instantly. “Yeah, I think so! Some, anyway. I did have to spend a great deal of time attending my father, uncle and cousin in Genei Corporation’s dealings with other corporate entities, under the insistent premise that I ‘must learn the ropes’ so that I might ‘someday be successful at defending the corporation’. As a lawyer. I remember we dealt often enough with people that look kinda like you… ish, but more like, well, girls. So I guess I have an ear for it. At least it’s easier to grasp than Verpine.”

Sindy took a moment to breath in, breath out, breath in. She made a sour face, her tongue briefly poking out of her mouth and continued.

“If lawyers are supposta be anything like Sekana Trozky, I want nothin’ to do with it, but I’m permanently stuck with onerous amounts of legal knowledge and...” Sindy's lively face took the expression of shadowy 'cloaks and daggers'. “...secrets. I would have the misfortune of being Sekana’s daughter."

[Ben Merasska]

Things quieted down, thankfully, after the doctor's little threat of 'ruthless application of sedatives'. Cirr was still talking the with Jedi girl, and Kiera was still fixing him to the floor with lances of pure threat from her eyes, and Lyanie was standing off to the side, looking mischievous. No matter how many times he pinched himself, however, he wasn't waking up.

With the only avenue open to him being to ride this nightmare through to the end, Ben looked up at Kiera and grinned.

"Eheheh," he began, "Hey. How are ya? It's... been... a while?"

[Vek Vek]

Vek Vek finished his blood draw, pressing a small gauze to the insertion area as he gently slipped the needle out. He applied a thin, clear disc of material over the gauze, then shined a burst of UV light from his pen light onto it, which caused the disc to grip fast to Hal's skin.

"Please leave bandage on for two hours minimum. Membrane designed to disintegrate in sonic shower. If complications arise at injection site, inform me."

Giving the two capped vials of blood a cursory glance, he looked back to his patient.

"Are you ready to evacuate yet? Please use the receptacle given, in privacy of lavatory of course."

He sat down next to a machine, inserting one of the vials of blood into it. The crimson liquid drained out as the device began to spin, assigning portions of the tissue to numerous small slides for use in a number of tests. A kaliedoscope of holographic screens began popping up, and the Doctor quickly went to work examining each image, and crunching each bit of data.

"Can rule parasite influence out, both micro and macro. Good. Good."

[Kiera Sontebren]

Kiera favoured Lyanie with a look, one that said they'd be discussing this later. She wasn't necessarily angry, and she didn't think that Lyanie had been lying to her, but she still had gone through the whole grieving process (and had even bought a self help book about grieving). To see Ben, alive, was almost a smack in the face.

"It certainly has," Kiera said with a flat stare. Ben visibly wilted underneath it.

She turned away from the pilot, and grinned. "So what do we have here doctor? A... Nehantite? Not too many of them running around the galaxy now."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal looked up from the shamefully shaved spot on his arm, having run his fingers through his fur to see bare skin for the first time in ages.

His brow creased at Kiera's comment, and he spoke before thinking. "What do you mean not many of us running around? We're some of the best mechanics out there. Wouldn't be surprised if your captain, here, has some of us tucked away down in the engine room."

The Nehantite was fully serious. While his race had often been ridiculed for being behind the times and not being any form of a power in the military sense, they had become masterful mechanics and engineers, though Hal had no idea the decline of demand for Nehatite workers that had taken place in the last few decades after one team of them overthrew a ship. Still offended, Hal took up his cup and headed to the lavatory, just to be away from Kiera. While their race may have been disgraced since he'd been put under, those from Hal's day had been very proud of their accomplishments and their abilities.

Within a few minutes, Hal returned, passing the sealed cup to the doctor, not even bothering to look at Kiera as he returned to the examination table. "Could've told you I was all clean, Doc."

[Lyanie Quez]

Well, for certain she'd have some explainin' to do. Kiera had plenty reason to be unhappy over the circumstances and her gut twinged over feeling sorry about it. Lyanie had grieved too, much in her own way, over the loss of her bestest buddy and sometimes the fact that he was still very much around was all too surreal. She turned her attention to the Nehantite when he expressed disagreement with Kiera's observation, waiting for his return to address him on the matter.

"Actually, of all the engines I've been around - and believe you me, there's been plenty - 'fraid I haven't seen hide nor..." She grimaced "...hair, no pun intended, of your kind."

With that, the engineer turned her attentions back to her aforementioned bestest bud and crossed her arms, needling him with a critical look that insisted this childish, yellow-bellied avoidance what was in front of him needed to stop.

"Now, Benny-Ben-Ben, you plannin' on gettin' up anytime soon or is the deck really that comfortable?" A glimmer sparked in her eyes. "We don't bite... well, unless asked."

[Kiera Sontebren]

"Actually, of all the engines I've been around - and believe you me, there's been plenty - 'fraid I haven't seen hide nor... hair, no pun intended, of your kind."

"Hold on a moment there," the Corellian said, both hands raised placatingly. "I didn't mean anything by it, though I could have phrased it better, I admit."

She looked at the datapad she held in her left hand and marked in it for a moment.

"Sorry to interrupt, Office Vek, but how are those instruments treating you? The bacta's not leaking out of the tanks, are they? Everything's still fairly new."

[Ben Merasska]

"I think I'll just sit right here until the galaxy stops deciding it would be funny to take a nice, big, stinking crap on me, thanks," Ben said, still sitting beside the docked hover-stretcher.

[Vek Vek]

Annoyed again by interruptions, the Doctor paused his numerous scans of Hal's blood.

"The appropriate title is Vek, alternative basic analogue Doctor, military subset Chief Medical Officer. And yes, facilities adequate for cursory dispensation of medical aid and/or stabilization and triage of medical emergencies en route to dedicated Alliance facilities."

He blinked, forgetting the human was attempting to be helpful, and that behavior should be encouraged.

"Thank you."

He looked to Ben, and frowned.

"Have observed this one earlier in stage of mild shock. Kindly discourage exacerbation of anxiety attack. Ruthless application of sedatives now threatened twice."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr nodded at the mention of Nehantite mechanical prowess.

"You'd be surrprrjised Lyanjie. jI've crrossed paths wjith one that turrns a spannerr everry bjit as good as we do."

He looked to Sindy as the hub-ub erupted, and shrugged. He was about to ask Ben when the Doctor cut him off and again threatened draconian measures.

"Doc, nobody needs sedatjives, everrythjing wjill be fjine."

Probably.

[Vek Vek]

Still poring over the data, the doctor tsked audibly

"Pathogens detected, priority minor, virulence secondary. Threat negligible. Ah..."

He glanced to Hal, and dipped his head deferentially.

"...decorum. Prefer to discuss in private."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

I got nothin'.

Me either. Whatever this is, it can't be good.

Trying to shut out his inner dialogue, Hal looked back at Vek, hints of worry on his face as his ears drooped unevenly. His mouth felt dry as he answered, "Uh, yeah. Okay, Doc."

His pulse found itself rising as his breath sped up along with it. Before he'd been frozen, Hal had invested a significant amount of money in a carbonite freezing technolgy company. They had promised that the technology could keep foods and medicines absolutely perfectly fresh, but they had admitted that it had occasional adverse affects on living subjects. In the back of his mind, the Nehantite began to play through all the possibilities of things that could be wrong with him.

In the end, it was better not to speculate, he decided, and instead followed Vek into the doctor's tiny office, closing the door behind him. The look of worry was unmistakable about his entire form.

[Vek Vek]

The body language cues, if he interpreted them correctly, told him his patient was on edge about the summons to privacy. He was quick to put aside fears. After all, he needed stability.

"As mentioned, negligible thread. Decorum still advised."

He blinked.

"Pathogen detected was novirium squalominex. In vulgar parlance, Novarian Flux. Venereal disease. No mortality consideration given, although social mores suggest doctor patient confidentiality oaths honored to utmost degree."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Ha ha ha ha ha!

Shut it, you!

You got the Alderranian Clap!

I said shut it!

Don't you ever think to use protection?

She said she was clean! And she was hot!

If I remember right, she stole your wallet, too.

Yeah, but... but she was hot!

Done with arguing with himself, Hal's shoulders slumped and he leaned back against the wall, pondering what to do. At last he looked up with a smile of faint, longshot hope, and he asked, "Is there, a, uh... I mean, there's a cure for that, right?"

By all accounts, Hal didn't appear surprised that he had it, only dismayed.

[Vek Vek]

The doctor quickly nodded.

"Archaic affliction, a curiosity. Routine antibiotic regimen to assault into dormancy."

He paused, allowing an unsaid "but"

"Regimen to be continued indefinitely, but quality of life not seriously impacted."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Could have been worse. Could have been Hutt-Butt.

Or Wookiee-Warts.

Oof, yeah, hairy warts aren't what we want down there, do we?

Heeeeeeell no.

The hopeful smile on Hal's face warmed into a real one. In his day, there wasn't much that could be done for the Flux, but given a century of medical advancements, he knew that such embarrassing conditions would most likely be corrected or contained. After all, wealthy businessmen often like to have a way out of problems they got themselves into, he figured.

His posture improving, Hal breathed a sigh of relief, then nodded. "Gotcha. And you can write me a prescription for that, right? And... as long as it's dormant, it won't pass on, will it?" He dearly, dearly hoped not, as the condom in his wallet was now one hundred and six years past its expiration date, and it was the only one he had.

[Vek Vek]

The closest approximation of a smile he had.

"Astute observation and correct. Attentive treatment prevents transmission. Prescription no hardship."

He quickly jotted down notes onto a PDA with a stylus. The dispensary would take care of his needs.

"Another matter I would discuss. Observation. No immediate medical complication. Satisfy...curiosity."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Okay, this is new.

Not just me, then?

Why, what were you thinking?

Nerf tacos with yamak sauce, deep-fried and served on a stick.

We're not thinking the same thing. Also, what the hell is wrong with you?

Dunno. You're the smart one, you tell me.

Again he had to stop arguing with himself, and instead he quirked an eyebrow. "Okay, well, what's up?"

[Vek Vek]

"Observation of tissue at subcelluar level. Activity of life form universally observed, but with elevated concentration and intracellular interaction."

He narrowed his eyes.

"Midichlorian. Aware of historical data on universality of symbiosis. Level of symbiosis not typically observed. Jedi sect derives spiritual meaning from causality. Am quick to notate correlation. Is this observation incorrect?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Don't show off. Don't show off. Don't show off.

In response, Hal raised a paw, and a silver-barreled flimsiplast stylus flew from the pencil cup on Vek's desk and into his palm.

Fucker.

Smiling, Hal handed the stylus back to its owner. "Yeah, you could say my midichlorians are fairly high," he replied with a wink.

[Vek Vek]

Vek Vek's eyes seemed to brighten.

"Intriguing. Symbiosis repeatedly documented but never personally observed. Transsentience a personal curiosity of mine. Sensitivity to symbiosis hypothesized to be an evolutionary imperative, but no immediate data presented to me."

He coughed politely.

"I digress. As said, a curiosity. One I would like to explore, but with your consensus."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Warning! Warning! He's coming on to you!

He is not coming on to you!

He said he wants to explore my consensus!

That's not what he said. Trust me, I can understand the big words. Just go with this.

...Okay, but if he tries to kiss me, he's the one who's gonna need a doctor.

Clearing his throat, Hal scratched at one ear with unease. "Well... I guess. I mean, it's not going to involve any more shaving, right?"

[Vek Vek]

Caught in a dilemma. To lie, or not to lie? The Doctor's lips twisted in internal conflict.

"Perhaps some shaving."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The glare that Hal shot back was something more powerfully hateful than the pink color of his irises had any right to be able to manufacture.

"Where?" he growled.

[Vek Vek]

Vek Vek deferred defensively.

"Erogenous zones not priority. Cephalic electrode interface most preferable."

To emphasize his point, he gestured at his temples.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Whew! Dodged that blaster bolt!

What, you'd actually let him shave you there?

Hey, you're the one always telling me to be more into science!

I swear, you have no idea what I'm saying, most of the time.

His tongue ran over dry lips as he thought about it, then placed a pair of fingers to his temple and rubbed softly. "Hmmm..." he mused.

It wasn't that he was afraid of the doctor lying to him and hijacking his brain for evil mad science experiments, as he was convinced all alien doctors did at some point in their career. No, he was more concerned with his vanity, especially since there was no one around to vouch for him. Showing up with a bald patch on the side of your head makes you look like a looney, not a trustworthy protector of the galaxy, after all.

After another moment's deliberation, he asked, "Couldn't you just use conductive gel that will seep through the fur and make it to the skin?"

[Vek Vek]

He shook his head.

"Imprecise reading. Would need to boost electric current to compensate. Implications for central nervous system unpleasant."

The doctor gave a thin, conciliatory smile.

"Will consider less invasive alternative. Later. Simply wished to address the issue conceptually. Thank you for your cooperation."

As an afterthought, he reached into a pocket, pulling out a lollypop.

"Reward for cooperation. Reinforce desired behavior."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's face was a mask of mix emotions as debated with himself over the lollypop.

You're not six years old, don't take it.

But it's orange, that's the best flavor!

Best color; we've never been able to figure out what it actually tastes like, except that it isn't oranges.

Maybe this one is!

Doubtful. Seriously, don't take it. You're a grown male.

Spoilsport.

Five seconds later, Hal emerged from the cramped office with the stick of a cheap lollypop sticking out of his mouth.

"You guys are all still here?" he asked around it.

[Ben Merasska]

"Yeah, we're still here," Ben replied, laying on one of the docked hover stretchers. Kiera was standing over him checking his vitals; Ben looked distinctly uncomfortable.

Just after Vek had left, Kiera had noticed the doctor had said something about shock and a more ruthless warning. It hadn't taken much to get Ben on the stretcher, but he still wasn't speaking much.

"The doctor gave you candy?" Ben whined when he looked over. "I want some candy now."

He fixed Kiera with his most pathetic look.

[Kiera Sontebren]

Kiera's lips twitched as she placed a finger under his jaw line and checked under her breath.

"Maybe, if you're good," she said, feeling herself relaxing at something that reminded her of the Ben before he'd 'died'. She was trained for field medicine; but that same training helped immensely in situations like this.

Now if only she could get Officer Vek to stop caller her 'nurse'.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr drifted into high orbit, away from the maelstrom. He found solace at the periphery of the infirmary with Lyanie. Feeling a bit like an overdressed doofus while still in most of his zero-gee suit, he tried and failed at the act casual pose.

"Therre's no way forr me to pull rrank out of a quarrantjine, jis therre?"

He already knew the answer, to his chagrin. He looked at her. While the quarantine screen only deflected microbes, something stronger deflected him from getting any closer, but the look he gave his engineer betrayed himself.

Sighing at his trapped predicament, he glanced back at Ben's strange cult of personality.

"So, off the rrecorrd of courrse...jI'm dyjing to know..."

A terrible part of him inheirited his mother's gluttony for gossip.

[Vek Vek]

Vek Vek backed the brunette female's play. Reward administered on conditionality of desired behavior.

"Candy given to patients exhibiting admirable recovery. Please to lie on table."

He gestured to Ben.

"Deep breaths. Control. Introduction of oxygen to blood mixture to promote equilibrium and cooldown. Close eyes and count to ten."

[Ben Merasska]

"Deep breaths. Control. Introduction of oxygen to blood mixture to promote equilibrium and cooldown. Close eyes and count to ten."

"Did he just say I need to breathe so I can calm down?" Ben asked as he closed his eyes.

"Yes," Keira said. He grew visibly tense, but after a few moments of deep breaths, he relaxed. Only slightly.

"Dyin' to know what, Cirr?" he asked, looking at him from around the curve of Keira's waist. He was fanny... finally starting to get used to the idea of Cirr as a out and out Alliance military man, though he didn't like it one bit.

Cirr had been a lot like him, once. Ben couldn't see himself doing anything for any military ever again, but looking at Cirr, his surety of his continued non-involvement in the war was shaken.

[Lyanie Quez]

"So, off the rrecorrd of courrse...jI'm dyjing to know..."


"Well...", she drawled out, "...some would say it's because he's adorable."

She smiled with that, glancing sidelong at Cirr, then settling her gaze back on Ben, walking over to stand beside where he laid before continuing. The fingers of one hand were posed on her chin, the other hand supporting the elbow in an observative stance.

"Others would say it's because he's such a nice, sweet, genuine guy." She dropped one hand while the other reached to pat Ben on the shoulder as she turned her face back to Cirr. She left her hand there and squeezed her best friend's shoulder. Her eyebrows popped up and a certain smile curled her lips.

"But what I heard is that in this case, there was alcohol involved and someone..." She glanced, a knowing mirth creeping into her features, at Keira. "...discovered that good ol' Ben here is a krayt in the..."

But she never got to finish that sentence as she promptly found her mouth assailed by not one, but two unusually fast hands from two different people. She exclaimed something in far-too-muffled words and wrestled her pie-hole from their urgent and mortified/embarrased grasps. Lyanie looked quickly from Ben, to Keira, and back again in slight surprise.

"Hey! What's the deal? Nothin' wrong with bein' honest!"

[Kiera Sontebren]

Kiera looked at Ben, and saw his expression displaying an equal amount of mortification to what she was feeling; there was a certain amount of relief in that, but once again she was confronted with a different man than she remembered.

"Lyanie," she said in warning. "Now's not the time to be bringing that sort of thing up. Ben's doesn't need any more shocks to his system."

Ben was nodding vociferously in agreement, the redness in his cheeks subsiding to his normal pallor.

"I'm a sick man, Lyanie," he said, laying back on the bed and laying an arm over his forehead in mock swoon. "You wouldn't do such mean things to a poor sick man, would you?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal groaned. "If the sexual tension gets any thicker in here, I think I'm the one who's gonna be sick."

Sitting back down on his exam table, the Nehantite shook his head. "Can't leave you alone for one minute, can I?"

It was a joke, to be certain, as he'd barely known anyone in the room for more than twenty minutes, so far.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Dyin' to know what, Cirr?"

His eyes widened a bit, and he bit back a laugh. When your hearing is better than a human's, sometimes you just say a thing and assume those pinkies can't hear it. He'd miscalculated. However, at Lyanie's gloriously frank explanation of it, the laughter finally came out.

"Well, nothjing wrrong therre. That's job securrjity jin some places. jI know some matrrons enjoy a njice gai'forrda'ro'chee on the sjide."

Okay, that was the extent of his ribbing. Any more would be cruel, especially considering he was already outmatched. It also just wasn't a source for that much controversy to begin with. Was having a reputation for being a good lay a scandal everywhere else? It was usually open for discussion where he came from.

[Vek Vek]

Vek could feel the hormones and pheromones exuding from every other person in the room like a fog of musty funk. The protective membranes on his eyes narrowed to murderous slits, and he suddenly realized that thrusting a needle full of sedative into every neck in the room would not only be rash, but it would also cross contaminate his patients with each other's blood. Unprofessional.

His second option within easy reach was a spray bottle of disinfectant, which he quickly spritzed at everyone. Only when he stopped did he realize that the very same quarantine field designed to keep out microbes and cough droplets was also buffeting the disinfectant mist.

A blink.

"Irony."

Salvaging his ego, he carefully set aside the bottle, and laced his fingers together.

"Coitus a fact of life in confined space. Inevitable. Nevertheless consider this infirmary off limits to...coupling."

[Ben Merasska]

"I'm sorry Cirr, but if boning becomes a job, don't it lose it's luster?" Ben asked, blinking back tears at the liberal amount of spray in the air. The doc muttered something about 'Aironee' (Was she pretty?), and proceeded to give a little speech.

If you have rut like squibs in heat, don't do it in here.

That was basically the gist of it.

Kiera was too busy trying to get the taste of disinfectant spray out of her mouth to say anything.

"Ah, I don't think you need to worry about me gettin' any in here, doc," the pilot said, laying back. "So we're nice an' shiny."

And, rounding out the group (except for Lyanie, but she'd gotten to say her piece all ready) Ben looked at Hal.

"Nice to see you're not poked full o' holes, there," he said.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Hey hey hey!" Hal protested as he held up his paws to avoid getting sprayed. Having fur, he hated being wet when he didn't choose to be.

"Yeah, I seem to still be in one piece," he then nodded to Ben.

Unable to help himself, Hal gave both Kiera and Lyanie a quick glance as he pretended to check the shaved spot on his arm.

Oooh, those two look good.

Yeah, but are you sure you should be thinking about doing that, right now? We don't know if you're all healthy, yet.

I haven't gotten any in a hundred years, according to them. I think I'm overdue.

I don't think being frozen keeps the clock running.

Says you.

They also both seem to be a bit taken, and you need to get some antibiotics because of previous indiscretion, remember?

Er, yeah... crap.

I'd say keep the snake in its basket, for now. Besides, these people are our ride, and you don't want to jepoardize that.

[Vek Vek]

Glancing back once more to make sure his infirmary wasn't about to erupt into an awkward orgy, the Doctor returned to his work.

"Aside from, ahem, aforementioned issues, bloodwork is clean."

He inserted the plastic cup Hal returned to him into another machine, and it began its own analysis.

"Urine also shows no indications of trace pathogens or internal dysfunction."

Despite every attempt to curtail him, he was able to give Hal a clean bill of health in less time than his quarantine had demanded.

"A pity no exotic cultures were to be found. Interesting case study. On the bright side, healthy patient."

He gestured to the quarantine screens.

"You may, ah, remove."

[Kiera Sontebren]

"Oh thank you," Kiera responded, pressing the button to her device and slipping it off her wrist. She tossed it onto the counter-top of the nearest surface and turned to face the others.

"I've got some work to do, but I will definitely be speaking to you later," she said, fixing Lyanie, and then Ben with a serious look. "I'll see you later. Captain."

She saluted Cirr, if a bit lazily, and turned to leave the medical bay.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr aped the action, a more casual affair than his subordinate's, but reciprocation.

Relieved to be free from the tyranny of the quarantine, he patted the firm shell of his space suit.

"Well, jit's been a pleasurre, but jI'm gonna go change jinto somethjing morre, uh, brreathable."

He glanced to Ben, and then to Hal.

"So, jI guess yourr plan jis to get ourr strrange frrjiend to famjiljiarr company? We'd be happy to escorrt."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben turned away from the now empty doorway, brought out of another reverie by Cirr's voice.

"Eh?" he asked, still processing the question. "Oh. I suppose. Not many other places I can take him."

He smiled, though it was a bit weak.

"Escort us, please. If Imperials do show up, they'll go after you instead of us. And you'll chase away pirates for sure."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

He gave an understanding nod.

"Prragmatjic to the last, Ben. jI've mjissed you."

He gave his friend a firm handshake, his hand enveloping the human's.

"jIt'll be good to ljink up wjith the Wheel agajin too. jIt's been too long, and the way thjings arre gojing, prrobably won't get a betterr opporrtunjity."

[Ben Merasska]

"Probably not," Ben agreed.

The company split up; Ben leading Sindy and Hal back to the Skipper, and Cirr and Lyanie back to their own respective rooms and whatever it was they did on a ship like the Marauder.

Sitting down in his own little ship was like going to heaven. Strapping himself in and undocking was one of the biggest feelings of relief he'd ever experienced, even if that ship held two good friends of his. He sent the coordinates for the Wheel to the Novgorod, and input the numbers into the computer himself.

He smiled as the engines warmed up. If he did this for the rest of his life, he'd be content.

"Jumping in 3... 2... 1..."