What's Seen in the Dark

[Rolth Wygraant]

The kaleidoscope of hyperspace maelstrom, combined with the muted white noise of the air recycler had a strange way of numbing the senses. You never noticed it on a capital ship because there was always something to do. But on a shuttle in the midst of a lengthy FTL voyage, one began to lose their mastery of time and it's passage.

Captain Wygraant was tired, but he wasn't about to nod off like he was on some common civilian transport. He checked his chrono, which showed a trivial amount of time had passed since he'd last checked. When he'd last left the Decimator for Imperial Center, she was chasing raiders last sighted a parsec from Concord Dawn. Apparently, the hunt had turned up empty, and his destroyer had been dispatched to Taboon to deal with reports of contraband smuggling. Shortly thereafter, Lady Vissica returned to her duties on Corellia. In her place, the Knight General had dispatched Baastian Cain to accompany the Captain back to his ship. The temporary change in partners was interesting. Baastian Cain was so many things that Matatek Sel Vissica was not - the foremost of which was that he was gregarious and charming. He actively sought out conversations with troopers and junior officers aboard the shuttle, and seemed to operate on their level. Captain Wygraant appreciated the shift in morale, but there was still the old wariness. The Imperial Knights represented something unknown and unseen. They were the vanguards of the Empress and her inner circle, and were encouraged to operate freely outside of the system. It was a continuing reminder of the inherent risks in his career. Through his decades of service to both Republic and Empire, a force wielder was always at work in the periphery. Part of Wygraant's duties demanded that he trust them, but it was never trust given in full.

The Captain blinked heavily, the exhaustion weighing down his eyelids. He tucked away the datapad full of section briefings. His space travel ennui had made it difficult to focus beyond a few paragraphs. Perhaps what he needed was a brief constitutional. A few minutes unfastened from his seat to pace the length of the crew compartment. Settled on the idea, Captain Wygrant began to unfasten his crash webbing.

That's when the kaleidoscope broke. The ship lurched violently as the energetic swirl of FTL outside became a view of frenzied and chaotic energy. Wygraant, unlike the junior officers in the compartment, seemed strangely calm in the sudden chaos. A Star Destroyer man had to remain calm.

Up ahead in the cockpit, he heard the pilot shout above the straining of his shuttle.

"My controls are dead. I think...I think we hit a..."

The ship lurched once more, sending Captain Wygraant's head whipping into the adjacent hull panel. Then everything went black.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"You fly in these old rust-buckets often, then?"

The voice of the shuttle's pilot cut into her thoughts, causing her one good eye to open slightly. The less she saw of the swirling starlines of hyperspace the better. Aboard the Khera it was one thing. Aboard a much smaller shuttle? Entirely different. At least on the Aereth, with Varin piloting, she could seclude herself in a relatively closed space without having to be subjected to the torture of having to actually watch as they hurdled along the hyperlanes. The old Nu-Class shuttle was good for that. But this? Here? Now? Without Aereth and Varin, Loklorien s'Ilancy's stomach was kept only in check with a constant supply of her ever-present doramine. The small tabs had saved her dignity on so many occasions, and now was no different. Still though, she felt it best to not tempt fate.

"Not... necessarily."

Again her eye closed.

"I do not find it enjoyable."

"Someone up top must really hate you then. Me? I don't mind these rickety things. Makes me feel closer to space. I mean, I grew up on a space station, so I've always loved being up in the sky. My Da used to call me his little star chaser."

She wasn't exactly sure how to respond, and so the Lupine remained silent. The pilot, a young woman with a rather... incredible gift for talking, was nice enough. She spoke of everything and nothing, filling the Captain's ears with all manner of useful (and useless) information. For the first few hours it was pleasant enough, but afterwards each new topic of conversation seemed to only send her into a vicious spiral of exhaustion.

Out of idle boredom she blindly rechecked her crash-harness as the woman went on to speak of some other thing. Only half-listening, s'Il nodded when appropriate, offering a few grunts when necessary.

"Huh."

Her eyes stayed closed.

"What."

"I'm getting a distress beacon from one of the hyperlane relays."

A frown. Still she refused to open her eyes.

"Anyway to pinpoint?"

"Well yeah, that's easy enough, but... "

"But what."

"Well, it's an Imperial beacon, Ma'am."

That got her attention, and now she did open her eyes.

"Imperial? Are you sure?"

"As sure as I'm sittin' here, Ma'am. Those Imperial calls are pretty distinct."

With a furrowed brow, s'Il bit her lower lip. An Imperial distress call, in Alliance space? It was close to the border yes, but still. She sighed.

"I suppose it would be frowned upon if we just flew on by, wouldn't it."

"Generally, yeah."

"Send a short burst comm back down the pipe, let them know we'll be investigating an Imperial distress beacon in Alliance territory."

"Consider it done."

A few minutes passed in blessed silence as the pilot went about her tasks. Of course it wasn't to last.

"Looks like we're coming up on the breakaway point. Disengaging hyperdrive... " the other woman reached forward, her hand grasping the control lever and pushing it forward. The old shuttle fell from hyperspace with a silent crack, banking to the side as the body of a reddish hued planet filled the viewscreen. Both sat in silence as they stared ahead.

"Looks spooky."

s'Il only blinked, her eyes going from the planet to the pilot. Her mouth opened, but no word came out as the shuttle rocked.

"Taking fire!"

The shuttle rolled in a sudden dive, attempting to outrun the lancing fire of energy bolts that'd come out of seemingly nowhere. "I can't shake 'em, Captain!"

"Do your best," she managed to grind out through her teeth.

Another volley stitched up the nose of the shuttle, stopping just short of the viewscreen. Still though, the damage had been done, and the console panel at her side exploded in a shower of sparks. The cover plate blew outward with ferocity, catching the Lupine in the temple.

Her world went black.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Gaah!"

Rolth's eyes snapped open, but the light didn't return to his vision. Save for the faint flickers of sparks and dying flames, he'd awoken into darkness. The stink of close air and chemical smoke masked more unpleasantness. His hands were slow to move, tracing the contours of his crash webbing buckle that it appeared he hadn't disengaged. Lucky for him. If he had, he wouldn't have survived the impact - or at least what he suspected was an impact. His view of the passenger compartment was limited to whatever meager flicker of light moved here or there. Enough light to see a pair of junior officers cast into the crumpled remnant of the forward bulkhead. Captain Wygraant finally unbuckled himself from his seat, sliding out of the bucket contour on shaky legs. He felt queasy and disoriented. His head thumped in time with the beat of his heart. A quick pass at his temple confirmed the presence of something warm and slick - his own blood. The chances were high that he had a concussion, but that was the least of his concerns at present.

Kneeling by the first body on the floor, Wygraant pulled his leather gloves free to press at the side of the man's neck. Dead.

"Is anyone there?" He asked impotently in the dark. The only sounds that replied were sputtering circuits and the groan of distressed metal. Wygraant frowned, and began to move through the cabin by feel. There was a supply locker located at the starboard side of the compartment. It would have a medical kit, a personal sidearm, and a lumen torch. The first and last of these things were the most pressing matters at the moment. Gingerly, the Captain ran his fingers along the wall when he found it, carefully tracing the path until he arrived at a slight outcropping in the paneling. He explored further by touch, finding a slight indentation in the hatch face that responded to a press. The equipment locker's door hissed open, allowing Rolth to grasp blindly at the contents inside. He tucked a pouch under the crook of an arm, then ignored what was obviously the blaster for the moment. At last he found the metal cylinder he was looking for. Captain Wygraant pulled the torch from the locker, activating the portable illumination. The sight before him was gruesome. Bodies thrown forward from the force of impact, some crashed through reinforced seating. One body in particular drew Wygraant's attention.

It was Baastian Cain, the Imperial Knight. He remained in his seat, looking unnaturally serene, save for the two meters of durasteel strut speared through his chest to nail him into his chair.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Hrnngg!"

The first sensation to reach past her unconscious mind was a sharp pain in her chest; a stab that seemed to pierce her insides with each breath. The second was the darkness that now met her opened eyes. Aside from the occasional flickering of illuminated buttons along the now-mangled dash console, the light available was practically nonexistent. A moment later, she leaned forward, hissing out a pained breath as her crashstraps put pressure on her chest and whatever was undoubtedly broken within. Her head felt as though an ice pick had been shoved in just below her ear, and as the Lupine let out a weak groan, she cast a sideways look to the pilot.

The other woman was still breathing, and it wasn't long before she too began to stir. Most of the front console was in her lap almost, her arms splayed out in front of her at odd angles; it was easy to see that both were broken.

"Did I land... ?"

s'Il's eyes clamped shut as she returned to center, her hands moving to the harness buckle in an attempt to undo its' locking mechanism.

"You landed," she whispered, fingers fumbling in the dark. It wasn't nearly so easy with the constant throbbing in her head or the lancing pain that came with every breath.

That they were both still alive wasn't lost on her, considering their circumstances.

"It was... it was a fine landing."

A wheezed cough in answer, "Any landing we mostly walk away from, eh?"

The lock clicked open, then, and s'Il gave an unseen nod as she gingerly began to peel off the harness straps.

"So I'm told, Lieutenant... ?"

"Siintas, Ma'am. Roe Siintas."

It was a strange thought that barged its' way into the here and now; that she'd not even bothered to ask the woman's name until... well, until after disaster.

"Well Roe," a pained cough, and the Lupine clutched her chest as she leaned to the side, spitting a small stream of blood onto the deck while shucking off the rest of her crash webbing.

"If you can wait, I'll go find the medkit from the back-"

"Naw, don't bother, Ma'am."

There was a terrible calm to the words, and it made s'Il pause, looking back up. There was a dawning dread in her gaze as she realized that the console wasn't simply laying in Roe's lap. It was cutting through it.

"Can't feel nothin'... " Siintas let out another labored breath.

[Rolth Wygraant]

A pilot and copilot. Four officers, two troopers, and one Imperial Knight. All dead.

Captain Wygraant's assessment of the situation began the moment his shock abated at seeing the dead. The next step was to discern where he was, and what had happen to cause the crash. The shuttle had pitched into it's impact with it's nose angled down. The force of the strike had wrenched the cockpit free from the rest of the fuselage, creating a mangled opening at the front of the wreckage from which to climb through. It was dark passing through the gap, but to Rolth's concern, the darkness didn't abate when he was in the open. The darkness outside was beyond night. As dark as midnight's new moon. Beyond the reach of his personal torch, he couldn't see far at all. In fact, it was barely enough light for him to canvas the entirety of the crash site. Through persistence, Wygraant eventually found the remains of the cockpit in the inky black. With luck, the secure flight recorder would be intact, which would give the Captain some much-needed insight.

A sound carried in the distance through the Dark, causing Wygraant to turn back in the direction from which he'd come. It sounded like a fair distance away, but as the sound repeated, he realized he hadn't misheard.

Voices speaking an alien tongue. From the sound of it, they seemed to be getting closer.

He hadn't much time.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She hurfed, doing her best to heave herself from her seat and scramble across the debris between them to where Lieutenant Roe Siintas sat pinned in her seat.

"It doesn't look bad," it was a reflexive answer as she helped to ease the other woman back, careful to make sure that her head was supported with a gentle hand.

Siintas opened her mouth in a bloody-toothed smile. "That's what they say on holos when someone's about to die, Ma'am."

It was as though a hammer had passed through her, and with each painful breath that she drew in, the Lupine let it rattle right back out through damaged lungs. She had no real answer to that, other than a strained smile.

"Heh, I suppose, Roe. Never watched many holos, to be honest."

And as if seeing the woman for the first time, s'Il rested a palm along her cheeck. A lock of mousy brown hair fell from its' once-tight ponytail, and pale brown eyes stared at her.

"You're missin' out then, Captain-"

"Lok. Call me Lok."

A coughed laugh. More blood.

"You're missin' out then, Lok. Buncha good stuff out now. 'Walking Sith', 'Game of Sabers', not to mention the second season of 'Bowcaster' has its' premiere next week."

"About the only thing I can remember watching is an episode of some show, long time ago. 'BattleDragon Yamato'."

Roe let out a laugh at that, albeit weak and sputtering.

"That's old, alright."

Light brown eyes locked on a broken gaze of white and blue.

"That's like... thirty years old, Captain... "

"Lok."

"Lok."

The Lupine stretched out her feelings, trying to do what she could in the face of her own injuries, and in that moment she felt a particular pang of familiarity, and half expected for Roe Siintas to beg for death. Like the man, so long ago, on Boz Pity. But she did not. Instead, she merely smiled.

"I bet you watched 'X-Team', didn't you, Lok... "

Roe Siintas slipped into nothingness, her eyes glazing over even as she held her bloody smile.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygraant worked with purpose and urgency, fighting against his body's sluggish response to his concussion as he pulled paneling and debris from within the shattered cockpit. The impact damage here was heavy. While the flight recorder almost certainly survived intact, it was finding it that would prove challenging. He adjusted his lumen torch to a directional beam, hoping that it would be less likely to give away his position as he searched.

Rolth pulled away a crumpled piece of what was likely the cabin access door. As he saw what lay beneath it, he immediately averted his eyes in disgust. A stormtrooper - or what was left of one - lay beneath the debris, severed at mid-chest by what he guessed was the emergency bulkhead seal responding to exposure to vacuum. Steeling his stomach, Wygraant looked back down at the corpse, this time with a pragmatic eye. The dead trooper's helmet contained light-adaptive oculars that might be a better option for negotiating this pitch-black planet than hoisting a torch aloft for everyone in the shadows to see.

"I'm sorry about this lad." Wygraant pulled away the helmet with one hand, and passed the other hand over the man's cold face, pressing eyelids shut in it's wake. The Captain slid the helmet over his head, unnerved at the sound of his close breathing as he began to cycle the gamma correction. Slowly the view of Wygraant's surroundings became more and more discernible, though he was no closer to knowing where he was. Rolth turned to look back in the direction of the cabin compartment. The voices he'd heard minutes before were gone. That wasn't as reassuring as it ought to be. If his ship were downed in a hostile act, he had no idea who could be on the planet waiting for him.

With time against him, Wygraant continued sifting through the wreckage. The helmet on his head gave a better view, but it sacrificed peripheral vision. As he worked, he frequently looked back over his shoulder, expecting at any moment to see a group of hostiles with blasters pointed at him. That never materialized, however. At long last, Wygraant found what he was looking for - half-buried in disturbed dirt beneath the destroyed remains of the pilot's seat. With the flight recorder in hand, he took a quick look around. Staying at the crash site was an invitation for trouble. It was too much in the open and he'd be exposed. Some distance away, there were shadows that appeared to be trees of some sort. Wygraant headed out into the darkness, hoping to find enough seclusion to discover what had happened to his ill-fated shuttle.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Three hours passed. Three hours of pain and dogged determination. Three hours of cursing the Bloodline and at times, even the Force for such a cruel hand dealt to Roe Siintas. That she herself had survived was little consolation. If she made it off whatever planet this was, she had the chance to see her children and Zem once more. But Lieutenant Siintas was afforded no such chance. Her life had been wrenched away in a vicious, unfair circumstance. It could've been the console in front of the Lupine that'd buckled and lodged into her gut, severing her spine. But... it wasn't. Was this survivor's guilt?

It was certainly something, as she couldn't help but feel lost in her own thoughts. Midway through their voyage she'd been so ready to stuff her own sock into the woman's mouth, but now? Now she wanted nothing more than to hear Roe Siintas speak of any little thing that caught her fancy.

The first hour had been spent crawling her way out of the wreckage of the shuttle, fumbling through four footlockers before coming up with a medkit. The search for her own duffel was frustrating enough, but thankfully she came across it in the very back of the shuttle. Her saber gauntlet was swiftly pulled out and slid on. Gathering the medkit, s'Il made her way back to the cockpit.

The second hour was spent wrestling Siintas out from beneath the console and through a gaping hole in the main fuselage. She hefted the other woman up, arms wrapping beneath the armpits and across her chest. It was slow going, as her own wounds made her self-imposed task rough. She'd had to stop more than once to simply crouch, hands pressing into her sternum. Already her metabolism had begun to fire through her system in the beginning stages of self-healing. But it was slow going; at least, to her it was. All told, pulling Roe free of the wreckage took almost forty-five minutes, and wasting little time, s'Il scrambled back into the wrecked shuttle. A bulkhead locker along the back was wrenched open, and rummaging through the emergency supplies, she finally pulled free a folding shovel.

The third hour was spent digging. Arduous and grueling, she pushed on with the strange notion to show some amount of respect to her fallen comrade. She'd not known the woman for but a few hours, but she was damned if she'd allow her to simply rot away in a shuttle, pinned to her seat. It was the right thing to do.

The darkness was a hindrance to be sure, but thankfully the Force allowed her a small bit of illumination; faint lines showed the forms around her; the rubble from the crash, the hard-packed dirt and strange foliage, a line of trees in the distance.

The grave was shallow, about fifty paces from the wreckage and at the foot of a small grouping of saplings and when she was done, a raised portion of collected stones covered the body of Roe Siintas. Testing the air, s'Il couldn't help but wish that there was more she could offer. More than the stink of burnt metal and smoldering earth.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered to the darkness.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygraant retreated into a small dell in the forest. There was a depression in the earth that offered at least a little protection from line of sight in any direction. Of course, if anyone cleared the crest he would be seen plain as day. Still, barring the option of a good cave, this was the best he had.

Easing down with a grunt, Wygraant opened up the medical kit he had commandeered. It's contents were as few things needed to treat the maximum amount of injuries or illness. That didn't leave much to remedy his situation. Rolth shook a few tablets out of a medicine sleeve. Stimtabs, designed primarily to keep Stormtroopers going on long deployments. That would certainly work to keep him awake to stave off the effects of the concussion. Captain Wygraant chewed one of the white tabs up, washing it down with a bottle of water from the medkit. It was chalky and bitter, but he'd hardly swallowed it down before feeling the pace of his heart quickening a shade.

With that settled, the Captain began to work at the flight recorder. It took a few minutes to clean the caked up dirt and detritus off the access panel, but he eventually did so. The interface fired up with audio only.

"~~ heading zero one nine mark three five eight...ETA one hour, sixteen minutes...

Skipping ahead, Rolth sampled the audio at different intervals, heading toward the terminus of the recordings.

"~~ impact! Reading impact at...no, that's not right.

...gravitational shear factor at 33. Repeat, no physical contact with...

...mass field generation. Possibly hyperspace mine."

Wygraant paused the recording, concern on his features. A hyperspace mine. He knew the area of space they traveled in. The Empire hadn't seeded mines there in years, and certainly not hyperspace mines. Those hadn't been used in a widespread fashion since the Clone Wars. The question was - did they hit something that was intentionally placed, or was this a long-gone relic that never received it's stand down and destruct code?

"Novoo apa dua bentawa!"

That particular question would have to wait, unfortunately. Rolth turned at the sound of alien words. Even without his helmet, the blaster pointed at him was close enough to see it clearly. Now, he understood the alien tongue he had heard before. And unfortunately, he realized where he was.

Umbara.

Slowly, the Captain rose his hands in surrender.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was nothing to be gained from staying with the downed shuttle, but the Lupine had once more returned to it to retrieve a few more things that might prove helpful. An extra medkit, an old carbine that looked like it'd seen better days, though it had a scope attached, which she hoped would come in useful. A few ration bars and a slim canteen followed, and after another search through her duffel, she pulled out the palm-sized holo projector that she always kept with her. Holos of her children dominated the dataslip that held permanent home within the info slot, and she refused to leave it behind.

In the darkness outside, she set off. She left behind the grave of Roe Siintas and the mangled remains of the shuttle.

Wherever she was, if they'd been shot down, she couldn't be sure of any sort of warm welcome from those whole called this planet home.

And yet, it seemed vaguely familiar all the same. The dark, the fauna. Even the dirt beneath her boots felt... it felt as though she'd walked here before. And yet she knew that she had not. There was no way that she could have any sort of memory of a planet shrouded in night.

And so onward she trudged, eyes ahead. The pain in her chest was a dull throb now, manageable though certainly not comfortable.

The small shoulder pack that she'd put her supplies in was hitched up a little bit higher on her shoulder, the carbine held in a somewhat loose grip.

Every so often she scented the air, thankful that the further she got from the crash site, the less it stank of death and burning.

But, there were other smells that were beginning to swirl around her, and sending out her thoughts, s'Il did her best to pick them apart. Nature mixed with the unknown to create a strange cacophony of swirling scents.

After an hour, a familiar smell. Again the burnt stench of death.

In the distance, she could see a flickering outline, only occasionally illuminated by the dying embers of flame.

She frowned, guessing from the shape of the shadowy object int he distance that it was the origin of the distress call that Roe had found.

Another test of the air, and another extension of her invisible fingers. There was nothing but death held within the wreckage, but something else caught her attentions. The Lupine blinked, then closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply once more. There was a scent; a trail. It led away from the downed shuttle.

A scowl, and s'Il turned in the direction it'd gone. It smelled equal parts familiar and alien.

"Only doing this for you, Roe," she mumbled quietly while starting off, following after the olfactory trail at a measured pace.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Four Umbarans materialized out of shadow, remaining as silhouettes save for the faint glow of their faceplates. They continued to talk amongst themselves for a moment in Umbarese, before one of them took the initiative to buttstroke Wygraant in the gut with his rifle. It took the wind out of the Captain, who fell in the dirt with a gasp. Strangely, he was relieved they hadn't clubbed him across the head. Compounding a concussion was probably not a good idea.

The Umbarans secured his pistol and the data recorder as two others wrenched Wygraant to his knees. Stun cuffs were applied as he continued to gasp.

"You're a long way from home, Imperial spy." one of the militiamen spoke in accented basic.

"An accident...I assure you." Wygraant panted with a grimace, nodding to the data recorder. "See for yourself. My ship...struck a mine."

"There are no mines in the ghost nebula, Imperial scum. We've found the remains of your ship, and our militia patrols have shot down another craft as well. We'll deal with the crew of that vessel soon enough."

The Umbaran leader glanced to his subordinates.

"Take him to the stronghold. We'll make an example of these invaders. Our sovereignty will not be challenged."

The troopers began to frog march Wygraant out of the forest.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The scents were growing stronger. They swirled in the air like wisps, beckoning to be followed. They silently called, and she silently answered. Her boots made little sound as she jogged, a gentle lope that allowed her to conserve energy. The tree line had steadily gotten larger, her approach steady. Slowing to a standstill, the Lupine again tested the air around her.

Yes. She was definitely moving in the right direction.

It was still a bit confounding though, the almost overpowering nature of the alien scent that was so prevalent. There was a much fainter trace of what had to be human sweat and blood, but the other? It worried her. Her senses reached out then, as she started forward once more. She moved up to the initial tree line, casting her eyes up, and erring on the side of caution, crouched low before bursting up in a leap that took her to the first substantial branch that could support her.

Another jump, and she landed higher up in another tree just in time to watch a small party pass below. Kneeling down, s'Il pulled in a long breath as she did her best to discern the shapes of those on the ground. In the dark, it was nearly impossible. Save for the light glow of the face plates on four, there was little light to truly make out whoever their captive was. Imperial, she was confident enough in that assessment. And again she gave a quiet reminder to Roe that she'd never do this otherwise.

Slowly, she pulled the carbine from her shoulder, one arm twisting to wrap the heavy canvas strap around it.

Sighting down the scope to the glow of one face plate, her finger rested on the trigger.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in.

Her finger tightened at as she exhaled, and the green bolt lit up the darkness around it for the briefest of moments before piercing into the mask, shattering it and killing instantly the one who held the Imperial's left arm.

On reflex she moved, a controlled and quick motion that shifted the business end of the carbine only marginally to the right, and she tightened her finger on the trigger once more to loose another beam of energy. It too found a home in the head of the lead alien.

Two down. Two left.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The first blaster shot he didn't see, as he was turned in the other direction. But as Rolth turned his head to the sound, he most assuredly did see the second shot - and wished he hadn't. His eyes has become so accustomed to the strain of picking up any light in this place that the flash from the rifle left his vision clouded with a sunspot. Captain Wygraant's hands went up to his face as the second man holding his arm fell in a heap. Around him, he could hear the hurried shouting of Umbarese. If he was going to make a run for it, it needed to be now...

Captain Wygraant stumbled away in a low crouch, blinking furiously as he stared at the ground beneath his feet for any sign of his path. He didn't get far, tripping over a gnarled root which splashed him across the ground.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She moved quickly, dropping like a wraith to land in a crouch between the remaining two.

A blur of unseen motion as the butt of the carbine was smashed into the face plate of the nearest. She was half turned, and her free hand grasped behind her to close around the handle of a familiar feeling holdout blaster.

Eyes closed, the Lupine drew inward of the Force, allowing it to direct her and illuminate her world in a way that only it could. Letting go of the carbine, she brought both hands to grip the blaster, pulling the trigger two times. Two bolts thudded into the alien's chest.

A quick pivot, and she fired three, again two in the chest.

The last in the forehead.

In the wake of the destruction, she stood in deceptive calm, eyes still closed.

A sound, and she angled her head up, again testing the air around her.

The Force was true to what it showed her, and shifting on her feet, the Lupine began a slow, careful pace toward the Imperial.

[Rolth Wygraant]

He continued to negotiate on his hands and knees, but at the sound of silence, Wygraant turned back. He could make out a silhouette against the background, blurred from the waist up due to the lingering effect of his sunspots. Behind that blur could be the familiar glowing mask of his captors, but it could also be his potential liberator. The only thing known was that whoever they were, they were coming for him.

The Captain raised his hands in supplication. He wasn't resisting.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Even as she finally opened her eyes, the darkness made it nearly impossible to see anything beyond a shape. And a pair of raise hands held together by stuncuffs.

The face behind she couldn't make out just yet, and as she drew closer, s'Il did her best to try and pick out any features that she could. It wasn't until she'd stopped, kneeling down with a slight groan and a cracking of knees that she could make him out.

She frowned, lifting a hand to place a finger in the middle of the stuncuff links and push his hands back down.

And though it was surprising to see Captain Wygraant in the flesh, it was still enough to raise her own internal ire.

Her voice was low.

"If I'd known it was you, I would have let them carry on."

[Rolth Wygraant]

He still couldn't see the face behind the voice, but her voice spoke with a familiar tone, and that went both ways. He remembered her alto tones and that particular manner of patrician speaking.

"I would say it's a pleasure to see you again, Captain s'Ilancy, but I can think of several reasons why that isn't the case."

Hers must have been the second ship the Umbarans had mentioned. The paranoid provincials had no love for the Empire, but they equally kept the Rebels at arms length. Perhaps the price paid in the clone wars and the galactic civil war alike had made them weary about the prospect of choosing either side.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Holstering the holdout blaster, she made quick work of the cuffs. They came off after a scant few seconds.

"And so can I."

Again she rose, this time returning to the four bodies. Crouching low, she searched for anything useful.

"If you're coming with me, then we can't stay here long," she grunted, hands sifting through pockets. Liberating a few extra blasters, she reached over for her dropped carbine, pulling it back and throwing the strap over her shoulder.

"I doubt that these are the only ones searching for survivors."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I agree." Wygraant added with questionable use, massaging his sore wrists from where the stun cuffs had applied their painful compliance. "The Umbaran militia are a well-trained force. They'll return in force when they know they've lost contact."

She wasn't exactly waiting up, and wasn't in the mind of sharing the spoils. Wygraant managed to find the flight recorder, but that seemed to be of little use to him now. Knowing how he'd ended up on Umbara was one thing. Getting off the planet was another.

"We have to find a ship."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Umbara, eh."

Now the strange, nagging sense of partial familiarity made sense. No, she had never been to the planet, but she'd spent hours listening to the stories told by the clones. She could still remember sitting in the barracks, enraptured and very nearly begging for more. s'Il let out a breath, shaking her head as she turned to regard Wygraant. She stared at him, blinking in the near-dark, then slowly held out one of the blasters she'd taken.

"We'll worry about a ship later. Right now I want to put distance between us and the shuttles."

It was a peace offering and demand all rolled into one.

[Rolth Wygraant]

He looked down at the silhouette extended to her in sharp focus. He couldn't see much, but he knew what was being offered to him. Captain s'Ilancy was obviously supremely confident in her situation, and didn't consider him to be a threat to her. Which, admittedly, he wasn't yet. Capturing a rebellion leader and Jedi would certainly be nice, but by that same token he'd love to have a hundred million credits and his own skyhook over Imperial Center.

Reluctantly, Wygraant took the weapon, fingers moving in the dark to inspect by touch.

"Agreed, though we should remain out of the open. The Umbarans are far better suited to seeing in this than we are."

It was night on the planet, but even in the 'day', there would be little light to be had.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I don't suppose you're inclined to climb a few trees," came the rhetorical question, as she sent her gaze right and left.

He was right though, in that the less exposed they made themselves the better their chances.

She sighed in annoyance. More out her current situation than anything else. Being here, on Umbara, much less in the company of Captain Rolth Wygraant, was not exactly on her list of things to experience. But, the Lupine was determined to deal as best as she could.

To that end, s'Il gave a nod to the direction behind him.

"We'll go deeper into the forest, then."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"A short term solution, Captain. We should already be focusing on our next step."

Taut-lipped, Wygraant pushed on.

"A pity we didn't crash during the day cycle. Anything of value in our ships may have been easier to see and salvage. Communication equipment, for example."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Yes well, nothing we can do about that now. And frankly, until the day cycle begins, short term solutions are the best we have."

Not exactly in the lead, s'Il made sure to stay somewhat beside him. The last thing she needed was a pistol grip to the back of her head.

Navigating through the trees was tricky, but she followed the Force, and where it told her to go.

"It's a good bet that whatever transponders were sending out beacons are going to be dismantled in short order, so I'm not counting on either of our people to be along anytime soon."

A huffed breath, as she paused in the act of taking another step. Ripples of warning reverberated through her senses, and a reflexive hand went out to clamp down on the sleeve of his uniform, pulling him to a stop. She angled her head upward, scenting the air. It wasn't the smell of Umbarans; rather, something else. Something wild.

"Something's up ahead."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Then we go around." Wygraant stated simply. His fingers curled around his blaster, eyeing what he could see of his surroundings. The path they were on was narrowing, and the vegetation thickening.

"That is, if there's a way around."

It was becoming increasingly frustrating that he was having to rely on s'Ilancy to be his eyes.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Shut up," she hissed back, slowly lowering into a crouch while pulling him down with her.

Impatience fueled her now. Impatience and hunger. Her body had starved itself in its' efforts to heal the wounds she'd taken during her shuttle's crash landing, and she needed more than the meager ration supplies she'd brought with her.

"I only have two ration bars," her voice was hushed, "... and I don't know how long we'll be here... "

A pair of bioluminescent green eyes blinked into existence, then, not too far ahead. They blinked slowly before a haunting, low call sounded. She searched her memories for the stories that the Clones had told to her, trying to remember in as much detail as possible their descriptions of the terrible things they'd experienced here. The keening call became an almost mournful sound.

"Banshee."

The word was spoken quietly, as she slowly released his arm. There was no need to slide her carbine into any sort of firing position, as she knew it would do no good against the creature. Rather, her saber gauntlet would be the tool to use. But, not now. If there were more than one, she didn't want to expose herself too soon.

A small growl sounded, her stomach demanding sustenance of any kind. A frown, and she carefully slid the travel pack from her shoulder, slowly turning it over and placing it in his hands. The Lupine turned her head to look in Wygraant's direction.

"Stay here. If you run, I will find you."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Precisely how long do you plain to remain here?" Wygraant asked with a degree of annoyance.

"Having a go at the local game risks giving up our position or worse. We already have the Umbarans after us. Hunting dangerous game seems an invitation to disaster."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a word that Zem had once used, long ago, to describe her current state of mind in the here and now.

Hangry.

She could still recall hearing the slight amusement in his voice, despite her own frustrations being so very close to boiling over at being unable to eat.

In this case however, her hunger was necessary. A ration bar could only provide so much, and could only refill her depleted reserves to a certain point. If she was not fully sated, the chances of their survival were further diminished. Her body needed to be returned to its' normal levels.

To that end, the Lupine gave him an unseen scowl, her brow furrowed in growing annoyance of her own.

Another moment passed, and she carefully rose, slowly moving forward in deliberate motions.

The glowing green orbs blinked, then turned to look in another direction as she continued onward. Three more steps, and she was ten paces from the creature as it shuffled about on the forest floor. It was small enough, possibly a juvenile. Or at the very least, a small adult. Either way, she ignored the idle thought. Her saber gauntlet remained dormant, as she crept as near as she dared. A twitch of her fingers, and the banshee stiffened, lifting its' head up sharply to gaze away from where she was approaching from.

And closing her eyes, s'Il bolted forward, the twin orange blades bursting to life a split second before stabbing through the creature's lower jaw and up into its' brain.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The first time his eyes had been surprised by the sudden change of light in the dark. This time, Captain Wygraant was ready. He looked slightly away, keeping s'Ilancy in his peripheral vision. There was a brief flash of lightsaber and bioluminescent creature, but it was over just as quick. Peering over, Rolth could recognize the outline of some manner of flying alien. It's contours, like more than a few plants and other creatures in the wilds of Umbara, had some degree of bioluminescent accent. It was less apparrent to his untrained eyes, but Wygraant imagined that the creature would have been able to view its world in full vivid colors. Or, would have before having a lightsaber shoved through it's cranial cavity. The smell of burned flesh came to Wygraant's nose easier than light did in this dangerous place.

"A success then, I take it.?"

That was one half of the coin. The other half was good shelter. Slipping the stormtrooper helmet on that he had previously used, the Imperial Captain gained a few dozen meters of visibility. He began to explore left and right of their path, keeping his eye open for anything advantageous.

"I suppose we'll be making a fire for that thing. Best to find a cave that can conceal it."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She mostly ignored him, lost in the moment of examining her prize, so to speak. A cursory sniff yielded a whole heap of 'not much', and s'Il let out a string of low cursing.

"Na'anaro kheh'sumeh," she muttered, one hand sliding across the carapace of her kill. She tested the hardness of the shell, feeling along each intersecting joint before settling on a weak spot. Again her saber flared to life, though only for a moment as she cut away one of the large pincers. It was large enough to feed the both of them at least, and with another string of unintelligible words, the Lupine clutched it tight. She stepped back, away from the carcass.

A long, exhaled breath, then, as she lowered into a crouch, twisting her upper half to afford her a murky view of Wygraant. His body was a stuttering shape, illuminated only by the ever-changing etched lines of his presence within the Force. But, it was enough to show her that he'd put on a helmet of sorts. If it gave him any sort of sight advantage, she was at least willing to concede to him that. Though, she still afforded him an impatient glare. The beginnings of a headache were forming, and rather than attribute it to the console panel that'd whipping into the side of her skull, s'Il settled the blame solely on her new companion. Her hunger did not help matters.

"Then find us shelter," she finally growled out, a low rumble lacing her words.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Right." Wygraant marked time with a dry affirmative, nodding curtly as he turned to head further along a fork in the trail. The gradient of trees disappearing in the dark became more stark a few dozen paces within. Cautiously, the Captain slowed his pace, keeping his eyes on the ground. An embankment crested, then fell away suddenly.

"This looks like a dry riverbed. Fairly deep."

At least he could see the bottom of it. The wash wasn't too steep to make descending a problem, so Wygraant carefully eased over the edge, letting gravity do the rest of the work as he slid along the steep side of the bank. An ungainly tumble arrested his slide, and the Captain rose to his feet, tidying himself automatically.

"Well then."

In a moment of serendipity, Wygraant noticed a darkened concave spot a good distance down the embankment. His initial suspicion was that it was just a deceptive shadow, but the closer he got, he could see a hole dug into the old riverbed. He closed the distance, mindful to pick away at a snarl of thick brush that had nearly grown over the opening. It looked large for an animal burrow, though the wildlife of Umbara had proven it was hardly timid.

"I may have found something suitable."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With her prize on one shoulder, the Lupine navigated her way down the slope, following his lead. Her own footing was a bit shaky at best, but she managed with minimal fuss. She moved to stand beside him as the last of the brush was cleared away.

"It looks decent enough," she murmured. In the darkness though, there was no real way to tell if whatever he'd found would be viable or not. A huffed breath, and s'Il lifted a hand, giving his shoulder a light clap.

"Gentlemen first, Captain."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant glanced back, hesitating. No use. If the Jedi wanted him dead, she wouldn't require a handicap such as him showing his back to her. He ducked into the cramped opening, activating the directional torch to further illuminate the path. The burrow narrowed a few meters in. The Captain's boots splashed in a puddle a few steps within.

"That's a sump. This burrow must be man-made."

The small depression in the path was meant as a natural break to prevent water from coursing further within. Of course, it could have been a coincidence, but a few paces beyond that, a haphazard array of empty container pods gave further proof to the space's inhabited nature. Captain Wygraant paused to inspect one of them, upon which a familiar symbol could be seen.

"The Grand Army of the Republic. This must have been a fallback position during the invasion."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Scenting the air as she followed, s'Il pulled a disgusted face as his light fell on the old emblem.

"An ugly campaign," she offered in no slight amount of disgruntlement.

The banshee claw was set down as she blinked, sending a thoughtful gaze around them. Old containers, a few long-dead battery packs, and even a small generator lay scattered about.

A long sigh, and the Lupine slowly lowered herself to sit. A moment. Just a moment to collect herself. Her reserves were running dangerously low, but she was damned if she let on that her strength was fading. Leaning over, she pulled a discarded concussion mortar tube close. She picked it up, lazily examining it.

"I never fought here, though. Not then."

She set the piece of used ordnance aside, opting to dig about in one of the half-opened crates beside her.

"Heard enough stories about it from the Clones."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I was here."

He spoke of the past like it required dust to be blown off of it. He had, after all, been a very young Ensign with hardly two months removed from academy service. Almost another lifetime ago.

"Well, with the fleet, that is. We smashed the token defense fleet the Confederacy had allotted to Umbara and held blockade to support the landing. Uneventful from my perspective, though afterward...well."

If she'd heard from the clones, then she knew all she needed. General Krell's treason on Umbara was just the first taste of the Jedis' betrayals.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"General Krell was not fit to even look upon a lightsaber."

Words spoken in disgust as she remembered vividly the rising anger that had welled up inside of her with each word coming from the mouths of those who'd managed to survive.

Pulling a few tattered canvas remnants from the crate, she tossed them into a pile. A 'henh', as she liberated a small, compact bundle of quick-lite. She slid from her perch, shoving the canvas scraps closer together. She looked up then, in the direction of the cave's opening, and getting to her feet, moved toward the mouth. When she returned, she dropped the armload of dried brush and smattering of mid-sized limbs to the ground.

"He was a disgrace."

The quick-lite was buried beneath the canvas, and wasting little time s'Il angled her arm. The orange blades sprang to life, held a hair's breath from the closest scrap. It began to smoke, and shifting slightly, she touched the tip against the incendiary canister. It flared, then hissed as its' old contents were finally brought to life.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain made himself useful by canvasing the burrow for any equipment that may have been left behind. Whatever remained was over thirty years old. More than enough time for metal to rust where exposed. However, the equipment crates were hermetically sealed with gaskets. If the casing itself wasn't compromised...

hisss

Rolth smiled as he opened the latch. The latch itself cracked in the process, but the crate gave up its secrets, whatever they may be. Wygraant busied himself with taking a small inventory of the leavings.

"I'm sure that's what was said of him. No-true-Jedi, as the saying goes."

That it was a logical fallacy. Calling out the misdeeds of a member of the very same order by stating the offender was never a Jedi to begin with. Except that he most certainly was. And where Pong Krell went, so too did the Jedi Order in gradual form.

"It's always been an uncomfortable reality, I'm afraid. Perhaps it's not so apparent on the other end of the lightsaber, as it were. I'm assuming that with your familiarity with Krell that you are a veteran?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She stared at the eager flames as they grew, shifting her crouch so that she could settle into a sitting position while pulling the banshee claw closer.

"Of a sort," she conceded.

"I was maybe 18 when the Clone Wars began. Still a Padawan."

Pulling a longer-sized stick from her pile of retrieved bundle of brush, s'Il pushed it into the budding fire in an effort to coax more canvas to light.

"A lot of my time was spent with my Master, though I did take part in the offensive on the Cluster."

She could still remember her time spent in close quarters during those early days. She'd always preferred the company of the Clones, and they had always been eager to pull her into their brotherhood. A moment passed, as she began to greedily scoop out a few handfuls of the inner musculature from the claw's arm joints.

"So you're a Navy man through and through, eh."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"The cluster? Carshoulis?"

The spearhead campaign into the Outer Rim sieges had originated on a three prong theater, and the Carshoulis Cluster was group center. It took heavy casualties, but effectively cut off a major Confederate force from reinforcing other defensive lines.

"I was aboard the Resolute during the sieges. We were at Saleucami at that point I think."

A tin of rations was pulled free. Rolth glanced for a date on the can, then tossed it away.

"I'm the fourth generation of Wygraants in the service. From the Chandrilan home guard to the Judicial fleet. From the Republic, to the Empire."

The Captain dug through the spoils, finding a half-pilfered case of power cells. Some of the interface prongs had corroded over, but there were a few still in usable condition.

"It's...expected of us."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Always expectations," she mumbled.

Her makeshift fire poker dug into the ashes that'd begun to form beneath the flames, and quickly she began to push the raw meat down into the opening.

The Lupine worked in silence then, as she mulled over his words.

Her gaze drifted up to watch him. In the light cast by her fire, his shadow danced as he went about rummaging through whatever crate he'd found interesting.

"And... " there was no dancing around the question, and true to form she speared directly to the heart of it.

"... and Order 66? Where were you then?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Utapau."

Talk of dark old days. Wygraant's eyes drifted to the fire, thinking back on a time he'd dwelled on more than once.

"General Skywalker had been recalled to Coruscant. The Em...the Chancellor often called him on special assignment. Our fleet grouped with General Kenobi and his invasion force. Everything went exceedingly well, until it didn't."

He thought of the pandemonium aboard ship. The clone officers had been given the order direct from the Chancellory. Non-clone officers found out a bit more slowly.

"By the time the shooting had stopped, we'd heard about the coup attempt. Heard everything. It took a while to sink in."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Mmm."

She digested the information, her broken gaze moving from him to the flames. There was a strange, after-the-fact layer of understanding that she felt gained, listening to him speak of that fateful day and the terrible edict that'd sent her world crashing down around her.

"I was at the Temple when Anakin came."

The stillness of her voice was in sharp contrast to the fire's crackling sounds. It consumed the canvas pieces as easily as Skywalker and the Clones had murdered so many innocents.

She blinked, then looked at him once more.

What was there to say now? This set of circumstances; of finding herself in the company of an Imperial captain who had lived through the same years as she had, yet from such a different perspective... It was not enough to absolve him in her eyes, but she was at least willing to afford him the very same chance at survival as her. In this moment, they were the same.

A sizzle of cooking meat, a lazy tendril of scented smoke reaching her nostrils, and the Lupine bit her lower lip before sending her eye back to the cooking meat.

It was nearly done.

[Rolth Wygraant]

A bit of mercy was found in another tin pulled from the box. It was caf. The Captain worked the seal open, smelling within. The familiar roasty aromas were almost there, but there was no denying the age. For want of a stimulant but lacking a cup, Wygraant opted for expediency by placing a pinch of instant grounds in his mouth.

"As we say, Captain s'Ilancy. No-true-Jedi. I'd very much like to say General Skywalker wasn't capable of the rumors. He was a respected leader, and we all looked up to him. But I've had a lot of time to think about the trust placed in those with powers I can never comprehend. It leaves room for doubt, let's put it plainly."

Wygraant leaned against the earthen wall of the burrow, drawing his legs close to his body as he used his helmet to prop an arm up.

"I'm getting tired. I need to stay awake."

He gestured to the gash at the side of his head.

"Concussion, you see. Best that we continue to get to know each other I suppose."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Still in silence, she looked over the upward licking fingers of her fire at him. There was a measured look in her eye, and she inhaled, then exhaled through her nose. Again she blinked, this time a bit more slowly. Not out of tiredness, but more a studious nature. Shifting a bit, she let her gaze move to the wound on his temple. It was with a slight amount of annoyance that she noted the similarities of the wound's that'd rendered each of them unconscious at the beginnings of their ordeal.

"Hmph."

She returned to inspecting the food, and with a quick motion she reached in, pulling out a small portion of sizzling, mostly done meat. With her offhand she pulled two upper mine casings toward her. A small portion was deposited on each 'plate', and without ceremony the Lupine carefully slid one of them to the side while pulling the second onto her leg.

"Eat."

But, his request for conversation was not completely ignored, and s'Il fell back on very old habits. She could still remember playing the game with the Rebel Commandos during her time spent hopping from on place to another.

Two fingers plucked a measure of banshee meat up, popping it into her mouth before chewing thoughtfully.

And when she finally spoke, her voice was a shade quieter. It was almost gentle, even.

"Back during the Malastare invasion we used to play a game."

She'd moved on from the Clone Wars, settling into the slightly more recent events of the Alliance during its' fledgling years against the Empire.

"Nothing complicated, just something to pass the time."

Another bite, and shortly after she swallowed.

"I name a planet I've been to, then you do the same. Only, the one you say has to begin with the last letter of mine."

It was a simple enough timewaster, and would hopefully turn things away from the current line of discussion. Sharing memories of unfortunate times with someone on the other side of the divide was alarming in its' own right, and she wasn't so sure that she wanted to continue down that particular trend.

She reached a finger up to deftly pick out a thin string of clawmeat from her teeth.

"I'll start."

A brief moment of thought.

"Hoth."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant wasn't hungry. He was in the midst of intense nausea, no doubt related to the nasty knock on the head he'd taken. Still, he was at least a good sport about taking the offered food, even if he could only manage a bite or two. He set his offering aside as the Jedi began something of an old tradition among spacefarers. Her first mention was telling. No one went to Hoth on purpose. Bad circumstances led you there. He wondered if she was one of the Echo base rebels that he'd helped to rout during his service in Death Squadron.

After a moment of thinking, Captain Wygraant offered his counter.

"Hypori."

It had been shortly after the Clone Wars and the beginnings of the purges. Rumors of separatist holdouts attempting to restart their deactivated droid foundries. With little to stop them, the newly-christened Imperial Navy began an orbital bombardment that lasted for two days. He hadn't set foot on the planet. By the time he'd left, there probably were few places on the world safe to do so.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Hypori was a world she remembered well enough. Long ago, Captain Fordo had told her much of that disastrous mission. She remembered hearing down the ferrovine that the Empire had slagged the planet into practically nothing but glass.

She kept her gaze level with Wygraant's, taking a moment to study his features and the particular pallid hue he seemed to bravely fight against. She knew that look. But for now, she would allow him his stubborn pride, her own mind starting to tick through the myriad of worlds that she'd been to until she found the one.

"Iego."

It'd been during the onset of the Purge, when she and Zem had fled to whatever furthest planet they could get to. And Iego had fit that role well. They'd not stayed long; only long enough to breath and rest for a few days. But, the time had been much needed, as both Jedi were in a terrible spiral of fleeing the Empire's iron fist.

[Rolth Wygraant]

That one was easy. How many Ordnance Regional Depot worlds had he traveled to? All of them perhaps?

Wygraant leaned back slightly, a shaky breath exhaled as he worked to maintain the integrity of his stomach.

"Ord Cestus."

Unlike the previous mention, there was no great story here. It was after the planet had been brought under regime change by General Kenobi. Just another stop and refuel point to further the campaign in the outer rim.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a bevy of world's she'd been to to choose from, but one in particular stood out in her memories.

"Sesid."

No great adventure or disaster from her time there, in all actuality. But it was the nuances of her time on the water world that always arrested her and - at times - caused her to fall still in contemplation. Novgorod had just finished a relief mission for one of the Rebel cells there, and Dan, true to his word, pulled every imaginable string that he could to stay as long as possible. They were so fresh off the mission to Baroonda, and the ridiculousness that'd placed them both in the employ of Okar the Fabulous. She'd been glad for the break, despite that always looming threat of the Empire hanging over them. And the most confounding thing of it all, it was the first (and only) time that she'd seen Dan Thrule drink himself to the bottom of a mortar tube.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Don't suppose any fighting was done there." He commented with a nod of approval.

A bit of a pause, and he rose an eyebrow.

"Does the Death Star count?"

A decidely short stay. His squadron had arrived as Lord Vader transferred a prisoner to the station. A joint commands meeting was called to prioritize action plans for Vader's squadron, as he was transferring temporarily to the station. To his embarrassment, he'd briefly gotten lost on the way to the meeting.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She made a face at that.

"It shouldn't count," she groused, "but I'll allow it."

The Lupine settled herself a little bit more, and popping the last of her meat into her mouth, wiped her hands on a bit of cloth canvas that she'd made sure to keep from the fire. Leaning to the side, she pulled her hastily packed ruck close.

"Raydonia."

Again, it'd been another mission for the crew of Novgorod. Unfortunately it'd entailed a bit more than what had initially been supposed. While remote, the Emprie had still kept a small listening post and garrison there. It took a week, but they'd managed to drive off the Imperials and even hold their own against the arrival of reinforcements. It'd been an ugly mess, all told. Dage and Kori both had been nearly killed. Even to this day, Samus refused to talk of it.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Ansion."

It was the first planet mentioned he'd traveled while not under official duty. He was still a cadet at CPI, though his travels to Ansion were just one leg on a much needed journey to mid-semester break. He didn't stay long, as there was a lot of unrest on the backwater world. When he'd returned to Coruscant, he learned that the Chancellor had dispatched Jedi to settle the affair.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a strange inflection that colored her voice, then. It took far too little time to give him her counter; she wasn't about to be beaten at her own game.

"Nal Hutta."

As much as Dage did not talk of Raydonia, s'Il often actively refused to even think of what'd happened on Nal Hutta.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant made a face.

"Disgusting place."

Not from his own experiences, mind you. One did not have to cross paths with the homeworld of the Hutts in order to smell it, as it were.

"Alzoc."

The system, at least. Alzoc III was the only planet of note there, and even that was being generous. Barely sentient aliens who were only good for manual labor conscription. He'd traveled there briefly to escort a shipment of materials to the, ahem, undisclosed location in the Endor system. All in all, an unpleasant journey.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She only nodded at his appraisal of the Hutt homeworld while undoing the clasps on her ruck, one hand dipping in to search for something unseen.

"Cathar."

So many memories were attached to that single planet. It was where she'd chosen to live in her self-imposed exile. The place that her ancestors, her House, had chosen as their own tomb. It was there that she'd called home for so long. She had given birth to Teagan there, and where she'd first crossed paths with Sanis Prent and Cirrsseeto. Sometimes she dearly wished to have those days back.

[Rolth Wygraant]

He'd heard of it, mainly in history books. The Mandalorians had made an example of the planet and it's people. It took thousands of years for them to recover from the brink of extinction.

Feeling drowsy, Rolth blinked heavily as he reached for the tin of caf grounds once again.

"Rumigaar."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her wandering hand froze, her breath catching in her throat as he uttered that one word. Staring across the fire at him, the Lupine fell deathly silent as she watched him put another pinch of caf grounds into his mouth.

Not many people had reason to go that for out, least of all to a planet as desolate as Rumigaar. One didn't go unless they were running from something, or chasing something. Her eyes slowly narrowed in suddenly painful memory. She could still see the anguished look of Tam Jeneel as he Fell, then turned his blade on himself in some desperate attempt to save his soul. She could feel hurt in her chest as if that terrible black monster had pounded her down all over again, his strength overpowering. She watched in her mind's eye as Zem took the burning strike that sent him reeling.

Her breath came back, quiet and deep as she continued to lock her gaze with Wygraant's.

In an instant this little game had become something else. Something unexpectedly unpleasant.

And when she spoke, it was in a whisper. Not to repeat him, despite the next word that escaped her lips.

"Rumigaar."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rousing from the cusp of sleep, Rolth took in a sharp breath through the nose, sitting up slightly.

"You know of it?"

Surprising, considering how utterly backwater the place was. He himself was surprised he'd even remembered the name.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her jaw clenched, as she very nearly willed him to remain in the waking world. She blinked furiously for a moment before squeezing her eyes shut and bowing her head.

Her quiet words traveled the distance between the two Captains.

"I was with a group of Jedi who'd managed to escape the initial wave of the Purge. We went to Rumigaar, thinking that we would be safe for at least a short amount of time."

A brief silence, before she once more opened her eyes, this time staring into the fire.

"We were wrong."

[Rolth Wygraant]

How small the galaxy could be at times. So that was why she knew of a desolate place like Rumigaar. They had been there at the same time.

"Our agents had placed a homing tracker in the ship of a Jedi fugitive, if I remember. That lead us to Rumigaar. From there, Lord Vader insisted on taking a shuttle with only a single squad of troops to assist."

Wygraant looked at the Jedi with a slightly new light.

"You were on the ship that escaped."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I was."

Conceded in a voice weighed down by old wounds.

What else could she say in the face of it all? What had started as a game to keep him awake had swiftly transformed into a dredging of years-old hurt. She had healed, the scar tissue coarse, but it did not make the surprise of it any easier to weather. And in some ways, it felt as though she'd been dragged raw over that terrible day and the deaths that she'd witnessed. The hulking, towering obelisk that was Darth Vader. The look of complete anguish in Tam's eyes.

Lost in a reeling whirlwind, trying to shut out the events that she thought she'd so successfully tucked away...

A blink, and her gaze shifted upward. She stared at him with a hollow expression. A ghostly, blue eye met him.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Count yourself as lucky." Wygraant conceded with a nod. "Lord Vader was an efficient hunter."

He could see the emotion on her face plainly. To her credit or detriment, she hadn't cashed in old vendettas.

"And despite his efforts, and indeed the efforts of the Empire for the past thirty years, the Jedi remain. You are an accomplished survivor."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Another stretch of silence followed, as she continued to look at him.

She pursed her lips, eventually speaking up once more. Though her words were more muttered than anything else.

"And you are too, to retain your ability to breath even after he has gone to Weit-Fällt."

Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, as s'Il slowly pulled her hand out from the ruck, finger closed around a small holo-projector unit. Ponderously she rose, never letting her eye stray from Captain Wygraant. Standing, she hitched her shoulders back before slowly moving around the fire's perimeter to stand over him, glaring down at his exhausted form.

"I should kill you right now," she finally got out, each word dripping with vitriol and pain alike.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Yes, the possibility of that hasn't escaped me." The Captain blanched slightly.

"At least you're the Devil I know, rather than the one I don't. What the Umbarans might do to us if they catch us, I haven't a clue. Nothing good, I'd imagine."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A slightly laughed heh was his only answer for the moment, and the Lupine furrowed her brow as she stared down at him.

"Ease your worries, Captain. Just because I should doesn't mean that I will. I want to, but it's not the right thing."

What even was the right thing in this moment of time? She already knew the answer to that, truthfully.

Mercy.

"I stay my hand because you and yours could not, back then."

She moved away then, deeper into the small cave and away from him. She wished for any amount of privacy that she could attain. But, old habits died hard, and lifting a hand, called to her carbine through the Force. It sailed through the air before slapping into her waiting palm.

"I've had enough of you for one night," putting distance between herself and the Imperial captain, s'Il slowed, looking back to him from over her shoulder, "... Now empty your stomach if you must. You've the look of a man that's been tasting bile for much too long."

She turned away, continuing on to a small partial nook in the earthen wall, as far away from him as she could manage.

"You're not in any position to try and preserve that sort of dignity or pride, after all."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"No, I suppose not."

Rolth watched as s'Ilancy drifted farther into the shadows. He then excused himself a moment later to do exactly as she suggested, making for the mouth of the cave to evacuate his stomach in a better place. Pausing by the entry, Wygraant wiped at his mouth with the back of a sleeve, peering into darkness that was as inscrutable as ever.

On a hostile world with a hostile force user. Really, only the venue had changed. He'd spent a lifetime doing what he needed to do to survive.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* Day 1 *



The food in her stomach had gone a long way to putting right the actions of her metabolism, and the Lupine had sat by herself, falling into a light slumber with the holo-projecter on 30 second repeating rotations, cycling through the myriad of holos of both Teagan and Markos. With the carbine clutched in a ready grip, she let herself dip into a partial meditative state. She watched the pictures play out before her with muted yearning. Teagan with her giddu pup, from so long ago. Teagan being giving a shoulder-ride by Sanis, then Teagan and Dani both getting horsey rides on Cirr in Layla's small cargo area. Holos of Teagan as she'd grown, and one of the girl as she held her newly-born baby brother. Zem had been kind enough to send holos of Markos, and s'Il stared at each one with a degree of regret. She wanted to be with her son, to watch him grow. To hear his first words, watch him take his first steps. Her meditations and eventual slumber had become focused on those sad few wishes.

As she brought herself back into the world of the living, the first thing she noticed was that the fire had gone out during the night. There was a slight chill to the air, though nothing to be alarmed over.

A deep breath, feeling her body react to her commands with less sluggishness than the night before.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygraant had stayed awake for the evening, but that hadn't left him in great shape. At least towards the end of it, he was able to make use of the bit of cold dinner he'd passed on before. Still, there was only so much that caf could do to replace sleep. He ached all over, and now that he was out of caf, he'd be paying for it.

"Good morning," he greeted his unlikely companion with a salutation that seemed to ignore all of that. "You'll be pleased to know that it's nearly midday, as the sky is merely deep purple rather than impenetrable blackness."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Lovely news," she mumbled, switching the projector off and lumbering up to her feet. A small stretch, and s'Il moved back to the pile of ashes that had once been their fire.

Slowly crouching down to where she'd left her rucksack, the projector was replaced before the whole thing was latched closed once more. She looked to Wygraant. Color had returned to him at least, but he looked stiff and sore still, and even without the Force she could see that he'd not slept. She'd seen that look on too many men, and there were times when she too wore it.

"You should've slept."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Bad for the head, I'm afraid."

He looked weary yet dogged. The dark under his eyes accentuated by the shadows in the cave mouth.

"No matter. I've trained under worse conditions. I won't slow you down appreciably, or at least no more than any other mere mortal."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She stopped short of rolling her eye at his last words, instead simply settling for a fleeting, unimpressed expression.

A bit of thought followed in the silence between them, before the Lupine gave a sigh. The ruck was opened yet again, and digging through its' contents, she pulled out a compact medkit. There wasn't much inside the small case, but she did pull out a few packets of anit-bacterial wipes, a tube of kolto salve, and a single adhesive bandage.

"Having the Force doesn't make anyone better than those without it."

Moving toward him, she tore open one of the little packets, pulling out an alcohol wipe with two fingers. She held up though, in silent request for him to remain still.

"Just means a different set of problems to deal with."

[Rolth Wygraant]

He proved to be a compliant patient. Staying still for her to administer the first aid, Wygraant continued his commentary.

"Yes, I suppose I'm being hyperbolic. I'm aware of the different sort of problems force users face, though from a commoner's perspective. You see, for better or worse, we can't be free from those consequences, can we?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"That's certainly a damning way to put it," she couldn't help the light snort as she went on.

"But yes, you're correct."

The dried blood on his temple was wiped away with a gentle hand, and tossing the wipe aside, she quickly twisted off the lid of the tube of kolto cream before squeezing a small amount onto two fingers. A moment later she massaged the cool gel into his wound.

"Though, 'commoner'? You give yourself too little credit."

A wry smile that still held a healthy dose of honesty.

"I meant what I said last night, about surviving under Vader. That takes a singular talent, Captain."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"You're too kind." He replied wearily, a slave to his proper upbringing.

"A terror as Darth Vader may have been, he's hardly in a vacuum. We're on Umbara, remember? We both know General Krell's crimes. How many who use your singular talent must become monsters before it makes sense to view your ancient religion with skepticism and cold dread?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His words rang true, though she was loathe to show how close they'd hit to home. Instead, the Lupine moved on to the bandage, pulling away the adhesive backing strips before carefully positioning it and pressing it firmly against his skin.

Pursing her lips, s'Il gave a final inspection to her handiwork. She chose to ultimately ignore his summation, opting to use the momentary quiet to wipe the remnants of the cream from her fingertips.

She gave a contemplative hrmph, then changed the subject in rather spectacular fashion.

"Has anyone ever told you that the holo makes you look taller... ?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth's eyebrows raised as dry smirk crossed his features.

"First impressions matter, Captain s'Ilancy. The only edge regretted is the one not taken. Despite whatever encounters may have colored your opinion of the Imperial Navy, we still believe that the best fight won is that in which you don't even have to fire a shot."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His smirk was met in kind as she turned back. Her ruck was gathered up and slung over one shoulder as she did the same with her carbine.

"That's all well and good," she gestured with the butt of her own firearm to the blaster in the holster attached to his belt.

"But I think it would be best to amend that line of thinking for the immediate future."

She rolled her neck, eliciting a particularly load string of cracks.

"Unless you plan on growing a few inches in the next few minutes."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Undaunted by the Jedi's ribbing, Wygraant's staid expression reflected the confidence in his experience.

"I shouldn't think my penchant for ruthlessness should merit reminding. After all, what good is a bluff without the pointed dread that it's no bluff at all?"

A sound in the distance drew the attention of both survivors. Wygraant's eyes were somewhat more accustomed to Umbaran day cycles. He could make out a silhouette against the ridge, moving south.

"A speeder from the look and sound. No doubt looking for us."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Moving to stand beside him, the Lupine sent her gaze in the direction he was looking. She couldn't make anything out just yet, but the sound was distinctive enough.

"Unsurprising."

She blinked, letting out a breath through her nose as she started forward. She moved with slow purpose, emerging from the mouth of their temporary shelter while remaining in a slight crouch.

"We should move."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Now now..."

Wygraant held up a finger in contemplation as he watched the speeder's movements. It banked here, moved a distance, banked back. It was a search pattern.

"Let us not be so hasty. This might be leverage we can use."

The Imperial glanced at the dark trunks of the wide-boughed trees that dotted the lightly-wooded path leading to the old riverbed. He raised an eyebrow in unspoken thought.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

For a moment she stayed where she was, then twisting slightly on the balls of her feet, sent a look up to him. She followed his line of sight, tracking her eye in the direction of the speeder. It took a second longer, but she was finally able to discern its' shape and the sweeping pattern it was taking.

He spoke of leverage, and the look on his features as she turned back to him, slowly standing back up, was one of curiosity. Whatever was rattling around in his skull had her attentions, but she was not so intrusive as to simply go dipping around in his mind. She at least held that much respect for the man. But, it also didn't take the Force to know that he was contemplating an ambush of sorts. The only question that remained however, was what sort. And, not to mention, how.

A slight half-step back, so that she was standing beside him once more.

"I'm listening."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Our enemy has speed and maneuverability. Deny him both, and he is exposed."

Wygraant moved toward a particularly tall tree, running an appraising hand along it's trunk.

"I imagine with a lightsaber, one could make a capable lumberjack. A deft, decisive stroke, and even old growth like this could come down at will."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"It can be done," she trailed after him, willing to play the role of a second for the time being. She gave an almost cursory glance to the tree, but paused at least long enough to inspect its' thinckness. It would be close, but she was reasonably sure her twin blades would be long enough to pass cleanly through. Her offhand shifted to pass idly over the top of her gauntlet.

Blinking, s'Il finally shifted her gaze away and back to him. The sound of the speeder was slowly getting louder, their time to act ticking its' way ever closer.

"And you?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain clutched his blaster pistol atop his chest.

"Misdirection. Their attention will be forward. And I will approach from behind."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She stared at him a moment too long, perhaps, but presently gave one last look to the tree's trunk. The speeder in the distance made another banking turn, then accelerated as it continued on in its' search pattern.

"Best prepare yourself," she sighed.

Another shift in the repulsor whine, and the Lupine lowered herself close to the ground, trying to afford as little exposure as possible while making sure that the tree was as directly between herself and their target as possible.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Meanwhile, Wygraant moved low to the ground, crossing the trail to find a suitable hiding place approximately twenty meters up the trail from the Jedi. He posted himself against a tree trunk, resisting the urge to peer around to see the speeder's advance. Tightening his grip on the pistol, the Imperial Captain awaited the sign of the sprung trap. It wouldn't exactly be subtle.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her eyes closed as her senses reached out in search of the speeder and its' occupants. There were two, she could tell. Their thoughts were broadcast as plain as anything, and the Lupine tethered her mind to their constantly moving position. The Force bent and swayed, and she watched it as it illuminated her targets in a way that was so very familiar. For a fleeting moment she felt as though she was young once more, trying to divine her way through the dusty maelstrom that Zem had obfuscated himself with. In many ways, being on Umbara afforded the same handicap, the same blindness.

Her fingers extended, then clenched. The flexed once more in anticipation.

Her head shifted slowly to the side as she followed the speeder's trajectory, and its' path down into the ravine before picking up speed now that the driver had a relative straightaway.

They were getting closer. Time was getting shorter...

In a blur of motion s'Il moved. She pushed away from the trunk of the tree while pivoting in a tight, low circle. One arm went out, and just before it came level with the trunk, the twin orange blades flashed to life, slicing easily through the wood. Her other hand came around, and drawing inward, she sent a violent push outward which sent the tree careening down into the speeder's path.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The sign that he should move came with the sighing groan of wood as it gave way to force and gravity. Captain Wygraant turned in the direction opposite the fall, moving around the tree trunk of his own hiding place. The weighty sound of felling tree thudded unseen up the road. In the same instant, the speeder engine's pulsing thrum dimmed, replaced by hurried words in Umbarese. Now stepping free from around the tree, the Captain straightened his gun hand, leveling it even with his shoulders as he sighted down his enemy. An illuminated faceplate turned as the driver peered over his shoulder.

"Sombak! Iewalo-"

BLAT

A neat hole punched through the transplast, leaving behind an orange-hued wreath of melted polymer as the bolt landed a clean kill. The pilot pitched forward against his handlebars, then slumped off his saddle entirely. The gunner in the sidecar was in no position to bring his weapon to bear behind him, and he fumbled for his crash webbing. Too late.

BLAT! BLAT!

Two shots zeroed his brainpan from behind, and the dead gunner's head sagged down to his chest.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

He was an efficient marksman, she had to admit. The scent of death traveled through the air to meet her in that very particular way that it always did; given even more substance by the Force. But she ignored it, instead moving from her perch atop the severed trunk, hopping the short distance to the ground before picking her way down the slope into the riverbed.

Striding over chert rock and old gravel, s'Il approached the speeder with a strange sense of caution, trying to get a feel for it with her limited vision. The sketchy outlines provided by the Force were helping (a strange notion, as she'd used to think of them as a hindrance before becoming used to the dancing lines overlayed atop what her still-functioning eye saw), but the low light was still proving problematic. Even with the Force and her other heightened senses she was becoming somewhat disgruntled.

Reaching out, she pushed the gunner back, his head lolling lifelessly to the side and off his chest.

[Rolth Wygraant]

As s'Ilancy worked with the gunner, Captain Wygraant pulled the dead driver the rest of the way off the speeder. He quickly cycled through the controls and computer on the vehicle, looking specifically for an option that would...

"Ah, there we go."

The Umbarian glyphs on the screen switched to Galactic Basic, allowing Wygraant to peruse any useful text data. The audio comm band still came in on an alien tongue, so that was problematic. However, Wygraant would be able to read maps, text communication, and other things.

"Right, so it appears that we are southwest of a free trade enclave. Frankly I'm surprised that the Umbarans allow anyone the right of way these days, but there appears to be a star port in the enclave."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A star port.

It was a bit of hope injected into an otherwise less-than-hopeful situation. Made particularly annoying by the presence of her companion.

Deftly picking through the pockets of the gunner, s'Il examined him with a fine-toothed comb so as not to miss any supplies they might need. A few extra energy packs, and a few packaged wafers. She gave it a sniff, not really getting anything but the scent of cellophane. Unsure whether it'd be a good idea to keep, she grudgingly set it aside, resisting the urge to toss it at Captain Wygraant. Another few minutes of silent searching yielded not much else, and in disgust the Lupine leaned back to turn her gaze to the Imperial.

"How far southwest."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Sixty-five kilometers. There is a highway about five kilometers away. It may be risky to take a direct path, but it may also be faster. If the Umbarans realize they are missing a patrol, time may be valuable."

Captain Wygraant pulled up as much data on the free trade zone as he could, considering their options.

"It's hardly a fortress, however. There are security posts and a degree of defenses, but it should be porous enough to infiltrate if we're observant."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Making a face as she wrestled the body of the gunner fully out onto the ground, the Lupine let out a string of unintelligible grumblings. She let out a hmph while straightening back up, and without ceremony leaned in close to look at the readout he'd pulled up. Her eye went over every bit of it, noting the highway he'd mentioned, and the enclave. But there was something else that took her attention, and she jabbed a finger at a hazy blob on the screen.

"There - what's that."

Of course, as if in answer, the screen reacted. It magnified the nondescript icon into a more recognizable shape.

A shape that'd not been seen since the Clone Wars. A large, lumbering shape that was the unmistakable hulk of a derelict AT-TE.

"That."

Like a woman possessed she immediately forgot about the star port, and she gave an extra tap to the.

"I want to go there."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Thats one of the old Rothanan tanks." Wygraant peered into the screen, brow furrowing slightly.

"It's slower, and certainly more conspicuous. That is to say, even if it's in working shape. I doubt it's salvage from the war. More likely it's old materiel maintained by the Imperial Army motor-pool before...withdrawing."

A touchy subject nevertheless. The Captain met the Lupine's eyes, his face illuminated by the glow of the screen.

"If the Umbarans are exceedingly sloppy in their search, and we are extraordinarily lucky in finding a working vehicle, we might be able to make it work."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A clenched jaw met him in response, as she returned his direct look with her own broken gaze. Blinking slowly, the Lupine finally looked to the side, in the direction that their readout had indicated the AT-TE.

"I, can make what luck we might need," she conceded in a thoughtful tone, her mind racing as she considered their best options for making best time. In an ideal situation, she would've simply Changed. It was easier for a vornskr to move about that a person; less suspicious. Unfortunately this was not an ideal situation, especially with an Imperial Captain jumbled up into the mix. She frowned at the unvoiced complication, but remained silent even still.

A long, exhaled breath.

This entire set of circumstances she was in now was so far south of anything remotely workable, but in a fit of internal frustration she bulled forward, intent to make it work. Never let it be said that Loklorien s'Ilancy left behind a fellow survivor, despite that unfortunate detail of him being Imperial.

"Let's gather what we can from these two, then," came the eventual sigh as she turned her attentions back to the two lifeless bodies.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant frowned. Proceeding on foot would slow them down, and they might fall afoul of another patrol. However, there was a risk that commandeering the Umbaran craft might sacrifice stealth for speed.

Eventually, Rolth relented. He pulled comms and supplies from the kit compartment, and shouldered a heavier blaster rifle for himself. He considered giving the spare to the Lupine, but where the Jedi were concerned...they made their own luck after all.

"I'll work with the communicator to try and transcribe and translate the audio into basic. No promises, sadly. I can't guarantee the Umbarans build their tech with the degree of user friendliness of the Empire."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Still rifling through one of the carrypacks that'd been on the shoulders of the Umbaran, s'Il cast an admittedly amused look over her shoulder at him. Imperial user friendliness. It sounded a bit off, and giving him a wry henh, she turned back to her searching. There were a few sundries that she wanted; some mines, extra power cells, power packs for a lumin torch that was also tucked away inside. Proximity warning beacons, even extra ration packs. Those would come in handy.

"Well," she finally grunted while closing the pack back up, "I suppose beggars can't be choosers and all of that nonsense."

Both hands closed around the pack's straps, and she wrestled it off of the lifeless body before slinging it over her own shoulders while rising to stand. The canvas satchel she'd been already carrying was re-situated.

Her eye tracked back to him, and the Lupine blinked in the semi-darkness.

"Shall we?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Waiting here certainly doesn't help us. On then."

Shouldering the rifle, Wygraant moved away from the speeder in lockstep with the Jedi. They disappeared into the darkness of Umbaran midday, with only the trace amount of light from incandescent flora to guide their steps.

"Such a queer place, Umbara. So fervently and staunchly against what either of us represent."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Can't say as I blame them."

There was a strange understanding that she had for the Umbarans. She had shared their desire be apart from the war, and for a large part of the civil war itself, she was. In self-imposed exile on Cather for so long, the Lupine had shut herself away from the galaxy's goings on in the vain hope that she could live the rest of her days outside of that cursed war. She had been through the beginning of it, had run like a mad animal to escape the hand of the Emperor, and then later the hand of Decepis. She had stayed hidden for so long from everything. She had huddled in a hollow safety.

Walking beside him, s'Il hitched her carbine up on her shoulder, remaining mindful of where her feet fell. The bioluminesent glow of their surroundings cast strange shadows; almost eerie in their own right.

"What have either of us brought to the worlds we squabble over, other than destruction and pain."

A subtle jab at the business on Manaan.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"A promise of something better."

It was a weak offering at best, he knew. The war between their two sides had lasted for fifteen years. Add the clone wars, and the early troubles of the Imperial era, and it was a lifetime of war for most. Even he could scarcely remember times of peace, during the august era of the Republic. He'd been barely more than a teenager then. When he'd come out of the academy, the drums of war were already beginning to sound.

"Of course, that promise has gone so many years unfulfilled."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Just a little," she groused.

She could understand his reasoning; it was the same rallying cry that the Alliance sometimes proclaimed. But, after so long, it sometimes became nothing but tired and empty words. Spoken over and over again in some vain hope that the simple act of speaking would be enough to make each proclamation true. only fools trusted that their utterings would bring change without any form of action.

Her stride was clipped, her eye ahead as her senses stretched out to give them some sort of early warning indicator. For now, she felt nothing.

"Sometimes I wonder if this treaty will do more harm than good."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Mm, yes."

The fashionable debate of the day. The state of realpolitik and strategic total war.

"The alternative is no treaty, and the gamble of a lifetime. The Death Star was bad enough. Now, we each sit upon thousands of Death Stars. Without a check against their use, this galaxy's days are numbered."

It had been a bitter pill for Captain Wygraant for some time. The balance of war had shifted from something honorable and honest, and was now placed in the realm of something quite existentially terrifying. The Empire should never have embarked upon the Death Star project, because it only set the terms of the galactic debate. Without a Death Star, the Alliance would likely never have coalesced into a salient threat. Without a cohesive alliance, there would be no Starkiller project. Without Starkiller, there would be no galactic reciprocity. Mutually assured destruction was such a cold and clinical word for what the consequences of a treaty failure truly were.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His words were a succinct enough way of putting the state of things as they stood now. She might not be happy about them, but that was the way of things. It was how the galaxy progressed whether she liked it or not.

Trudging along in silence, the Lupine kept her gaze ahead. There really wasn't much to be said in the wake of his words, and her expression reflected her desire to let thos words remain on their own without answer or agreement. Even if she held the same sentiments, there was no real point in expressing them.

In the dim light of waning midday, their path - at least what went for a path - was illuminated only just barely. Sounds of Umbaran wildlife could be heard, and all around pale glimpses of bioluminescent light filtered through the trees and undergrowth. She could sense no real danger just yet, but that did not mean they were completely safe.

Finally she spoke, though her voice was low as the two unlikely comrades continued on.

"I heard stories about the Death Stars," she began quietly, picking her way over a tree root.

"I am ultimately unsurprised, that such things came into existence at the order of Palpatine."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"It was an...unfortunate overreach."

Wygraant looked off in the distance, discerning slightly more features of the landscape and bioluminescent wilds as he traveled. However, his conflicted expression told nothing of the search.

"The war was won, really. Conventionally in hand. There was no need for such a..."

The Captain's mouth twisted in thoughtful hesitance.

"...abomination."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her steps slowed at his last observation, and turning to cast a sideways glance to his dimly lit form as he stayed beside her, s'Il hitched her stolen pack up a little higher on her shoulders.

She breathed in of the air around them, letting it out through her nostrils.

"The Force compels some to overreach and move beyond sane reasoning," she finally spoke quietly while turning her eye back forward and resuming her pace.

"I think there is a saying? 'A blessing and a curse'?"

She hoped she was right, in any case.

"It's tragically insightful, if I am remembering the words correctly."

[Rolth Wygraant]

At the Jedi's words, Wygraant turned sharply, a mild look of surprise on his face.

"At the risk of sounding obtuse, I fail to see the blessing of it at all, Captain."

Of course, better minds than hers had already tried to make such a grisly sales pitch. Admiral Motti immediately came to mind, and his unceasing optimism at how many loose ends the Death Star was sure to tidy up. Perhaps the blessing for Motti came with him dying before realizing how utterly wrong he was.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a moment of silence as she walked, her stride unbroken even as her peripheral vision caught the look he'd sent her way.

"And I fail to see any good that the Empire has done," she spoke evenly, her voice level.

"So I think that we both may be at an impasse. I doubt either could convince the other of the good in either case presented."

Now she did look at him, her expression neutral.

"If you see little value to those who use the Force and what they use their gifts for, whether good or bad, there's not a lot I can say to convince you otherwise, is there."

Perhaps a fatalistic summation, but his reaction had made her hesitant to even attempt to change his mind.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Though he'd been speaking more to the horrors of the Death Star and the Starkillers, it wasn't a point of view entirely divorced from the notion of the force-attuned lording over a galaxy of their supposed lessers.

"I suppose not." came Wygraant's admitted recognition of impasse.

The terrain began to rise, leading up to the escarpment of a ridge that had been visible on the speeder's topography map. There was the risk that the elevated position might betray their location if any eyes were searching for them, but that was a risk they would simply have to take. The Captain clambored over a snarled network of roots jutting from the face of the hill.

"Careful now, we should be able to see the motorpool from the clearing. I would assume there are guards to deal with."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"There usually are," came the grumbled answer as she lowered her center of gravity while twisting her torso so that she could open up a side pocket of the pack she carried. A quick motion liberated a pair of macros, and the Lupine inched her way closer to the edge of the ridge. The macros went to her eyes, and she flicked a forefinger over the infrared filter. A burst of light, and the world settled into vibrant hues of greens, yellows, blues, and reds all standing out sharply against a mostly black background.

She was silent, the thumbed the filter once more so that is shifted to nightvision. The ambient light was enough to allow the macro's sensors to illuminate the motorpool in detail. There wasn't a lot of activity, but there was enough regardless, as two Umbarans moved into view. The walked together, most likely talking. Another pair appeared from the other side, and in the distance she could see a lone sentry sitting atop a guard tower.

"I see five."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"And it only takes one to call for reinforcements." Wygraant noted sourly.

The issue with the speeder was a simple matter of misdirection and easily done. To achieve success here, they would need a more complex plan, and some luck - which once again, the Jedi seemed to create.

"We could ambush one of the patrols behind one of the walkers. If it's done quietly, that might give us more options. Or if we created a diversion, we could try and lure the four patrolmen away and sneak into the tower guard's blind spot."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Both options were decent, but it was the second that she latched onto. The macros swept across the small compound a moment longer before s'Il brought them down and handed them to the Imperial in case he wished to have a look for himself.

"I like your second suggestion," she finally grunted while easing herself back a little bit, further from sight.

Half-crouching, with one leg beneath her, the Lupine looked up to the sky as her thoughts explored the best ways to make a diversion possible.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I could cycle the comm device on a universal distress pulse. That normally would broadcast automatically upon a crash."

By now, the Umbarans probably realized they had a patrol unaccounted for. It wouldn't take much for the aliens to connect the dots.

"However, if we use the device to flood the area with spectrum, we could jam local transmissions. There, up on the tower, do you see that blink?"

On cue, a small flicker of red appeared in the dark sky, then disappeared for a few seconds, then repeated.

"This motorpool is too remote for a hard wire, so that's likely how the Umbarans keep touch. It would require a lot of power to signal boost this hand-held unit. I doubt we'd get more than a minute's use of it before the cell burned out."

Wygraant wasn't about to defer due to some misplaced notion of genteel manners. He was a Captain. A captain took charge.

"Second option's best. Now we just need something large enough to turn five sets of eyes in the same direction."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She hunched further down, letting her gaze lower so that she could look at Wygraant. Huffing a breath from her nose, the Lupine frowned while letting out a slight hmph. A diversion large enough to do as he wished would be taxing. Possible, but the effort would be immense. Still though, she wasn't about to allow him to see her balk at the task before them.

A memory tugged at her, and as her eyes shifted to the side, s'Il had a decent enough inkling of what might accomplish her partner's wishes.

"I've got an idea."

She at least tried to be game about the whole thing, and despite the low light, she lifted an arm, waggling her fingers close enough to his face so that he could see them.

"Ancient spirits of the Sith," she grumbled in a surprisingly conspiratorial tone, quietly echoing the silly incantations of one of the villains in a holo cartoon that Teagan used to watch religiously aboard Layla, "... transform this Imperial captain into... "

The look on his features was enough to make her stop, her recitation ended far too soon. She gave a sigh, letting her hand fall away as her body twisted around so that she once more faced the encampment.

"Well, I thought it was funny," came the grumbled admission.

"Don't worry; you'll have your diversion, Captain."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant's nonplussed expression didn't warm to the sudden brash showmanship of the Jedi. He stared at her a moment after she resigned in the attempt.

"Yes, no doubt."

He'd been placed into a damned awkward position on depending on his enemy. If she failed, it made his own chances of escape nearly impossible. Dependency, however, didn't translate completely into confidence or faith. It was simply a matter of fact that he had few real options to contend with.

"Well, I'll calibrate the power cell to maximum feed, bypassing the regulator."

A tweak of a few controls on the device elicited an almost inaudible whine in the machinery within.

"Ready to pulse."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A long inhaled breath, and the Lupine seemed to settle a little bit more into the ground, as if trying to pull reserves directly from the earth itself. Her posture shifted, changing to something stained; or at least, tensing in anticipation. Her muscles grew taught as her eyes closed, and twisting her body, the Lupine squared her shoulders as both of her hands dug into the soft dirt below, fingers penetrating as deeply as they could. She exhaled, then drank deeply of the Force and the air around her, feeling as it swirled about in unseen eddies and currents. It was like a wondrous, priceless piece of art that was alive.

And she reveled in it. She drank deeply, pulling it inwards for but a moment before channeling it out through her hands and into the ground.

Guiding her energies along a path, a small dusting began to rise up into the air at the edge of the encampment. It was minuscule at first, but the more she poured herself into the effort, the larger it became. What had begun as a mere smattering of particulate on a localized breeze became a frenzied dust storm, continuously growing until it finally caught the attention of the five below.

A gasp as she poured more of herself into the effort, and s'Il pressed onward. She drew from those old lessons, back on Pakuuni. Of when Zem had endeavored to teach her that her eyes were only so helpful; when rendered useless, they were a hindrance and could betray you. Only, she took his lesson and expanded on the notion, bringing to life a sandstorm of enough size to distract those that needed distracting. Taxed, the Lupine pushed herself still, pleading with the Force and cajoling it to provide her with its' bounties and blessings.

The Force obliged, and the sudden appearance of a very real sandstorm cause the Umbaran guards to scramble for cover.

Through gritted teeth, she let out a partial gasp at her companion, one breathless word.

"Now."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain bore down on the triggering toggle with the heel of his palm, tossing the device to the ground the moment he did so. He could hear a moment of high-pitched whine from the strained power pack, but he was already on the move. Arms and legs pumping in the dark, Wygraant pushed towards the observation tower as fast as he could run. He expected at any minute for a well-placed shot from the tower to do him in, but the howling, dusty haboob that the Jedi had conjured up seemed to do it's magic. The Umbarans shielded their visors in vain as the whipping gusts blew a blinding wave in their direction.

Any moment now, Rolth expected the same gust to overtake him as well, so he pushed on at full sprint to the tower. His lungs and muscles burned as he didn't let up until he made the far side of the guard post. Taking a moment to gulp his breath, Wygraant then clutched his weapon, and made the careful ascent up the stairs. Any moment now, the signal jammer would lose it's power charge. He needed to act quickly. With his heart racing in his chest, the Captain heel-toed each step, climbing the stairs at a tortuous pace. It took two minutes, but he finally glimpsed the top of the tower as he came around the final ascent. Thankfully, the tower guard still had his eyes to the storm.

Wygraant took another step. The alien turned to his right, intent on reaching for his comm to signal the storm. He froze, catching motion in his peripheral vision.

Too late for him.

Rolth had the Umbaran dead to rights at this range. His blaster barked three times, splashing the dead guard against the railing of the tower.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a beast that was held within the storm. A beast that was intent on doing away with the annoyances of Umbaran guards. Where s'Il had once been was a crumpled pile of clothing and the carrypacks that the Alliance captain had once been wearing. It was a silent, stark sign of the monster that she kept in tight check while in the presence of so many others. But, under the cover of the storm that she'd brought to life, Loklorien s'Ilancy had indulged. She had allowed herself the Change, and had slipped from the overlook like a wraith. A vornskr that held close to the ground while navigating the wildly flying detritus that whipped all about in a seemingly uncontrolled storm. Bioluminescant leaves cast dancing lights and shadows all around, illuminating for mere moments the form of a beast that moved like the wind around it.

One guard turned at the last minute, having only enough time to open his mouth before the creature was upon him. Any cry was reduced to a gurgling gasp, his throat torn and left to spill that crucial lifeblood upon the ground. Seconds later the second met the same fate. That left two more, and the Lupine moved like a ghost within the storm. She brushed against the legs of one, causing him to turn and shout at his remaining companion. Another sideswipe, and the hefted blaster rifle was lifted higher before a shot rang out. The bolt caught the third guard in the chest, blasting him cleanly off his feet to fall dead upon the tarmac. And in that moment, s'Il pivoted on massive paws, her neck craning as her body twisted and rose. Powerful jaws closed around the last Umbaran, and the Lupine wrenched the life from him as if he had given it to her to cast away.

The storm still raged, but now she stood still, chest heaving as her pelt whipped about in the gale. A hurff, and the Lupine cast her eyes upward to the faint light visible above her. The tower's windows would allow no vantage into the maelstrom that she kept alive, and with a last snorted breath from her nose, the vornskr burst forth like an exploding turbolaser battery, back the way it had come. Across the pitted and cracked tarmac, through the peripheral gravel beds, and up the hillock to vanish into nothingness on the other side.




* * *


She left the last two hasps of her uniform jacket undone, and hefting her carrypacks, s'Il ventured down the sloping hillside. She moved quietly and quickly as the last remnants of her conjured storm died away.

The tower was visible now, as were the lights within. A single figure could be seen, and quickening her pace, s'Il loped across the tarmac with a particular quickness that was partially fueled by mistrust. Finding the entryway was easy enough, and she followed Wygraant's scent upwards. Her legs weren't long enough to take two at a time, but the Force aided her where her body failed, and in little time she ascended to the last landing, ducking through the still-open doorway.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant had watched the storm wash over the guards, swallowing his field of vision. That was, until the blaster shots rang out. Moments of light, diffused and illuminated through the dust storm, briefly cast light against the silhouettes within. The Captain strained to see the faint figures struggling in the cloud, each moment of blaster fire seemed to show one fewer. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, the storm fell away. The Imperial looked down his gunsights, scanning the distance for any sign of movement. The silhouettes were there still, barely visible as they lay still on the ground.

"How the devil..."

Wygraant muttered, looking for any sign of his strange ally.

Half a minute later, the staccato beat of boots against metal steps rang from below. Rolth had barely enough time to wheel about, leveling his weapon in the path of an ascending Loklorien s'Ilancy.

"Oh." Wygraant blinked, not happy at the outward display of surprise. He smoothed it over by easing his weapon toward the floor, and stood to full height. "It's you."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd frozen at the sight of the barrel of his gun leveled at her, but as he lowered the weapon, s'Il allowed tense muscles to relax by the smallest of margins. This position they were both in was still precarious at best, and in the back of her mind she found herself unable to remain unconcerned of the possible eventuality of being turned on. It was sobering, in an already sobering situation. She soldiered on, though. Old muscle memory, learned from her years traveling with Dan and his cell keeping her moving. The need to see her children drove her the rest of the way. She'd not die on this dark world, of that she was determined.

"It's me," came the mumbled answer. An almost absurd expression painted her features as she stared at him a moment longer.

And then she stepped forward, closing the distance between the two.

"Fancy meeting you here," she couldn't help.

A partial sidestep sent her past him, and to the comm console.

"Back in the day, we used to send jumper signals," a rueful admission of those old Rebel tactics.

"That comm device might only be good for a minute or so, but if we use the tower's regular ping systems and piggyback their lines, we might be able to tag an outlying satellite that can pass the message along on a repeat burst." She shrugged. "Not ideal, but it used to work decently well back then."

She looked up then, twisting about to scan the back of the room they were in. A row of lockers lined the far wall, and the Lupine nodded to them.

"Should check in those to see if there are any extra power cells we can wire in to give us more time for a message, too."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygraant nodded with a bit of reserve, opening one of the small equipment cubbies in the tower to find the necessary portable power cells.

"Of course, the moment we do that, we'll have alerted the entire defense grid of our presence."

He wasn't rejecting s'Ilancy's plan, they needed a way off planet. Of course, Loklorien's plan was to leave on her terms. They were well within Alliance space. Whatever rescue might be summoned would be one that was only purely advantageous to her.

"If we make our escape in the walker, it doesn't offer us much time until we are found and overtaken. It is a plan of last resort. We need to find a ship."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She listened while letting her eyes cast out through the tower's panoramic windows. She stared down at the walker, knowing that it was more a visceral, old memory that had drawn her here than anything else. A desire to see the past once more. She could remember seeing them so many decades previous, and it made her heart ache for her brothers. It reminded her of them, and perhaps - just for a moment - the Lupine wanted to relive that fleeting moment in time once more. Self-serving yes. Selfish, yes. It was a strong desire to recapture those old feelings and perhaps... just perhaps, make right the wrongs that had happened on Umbara.

"We have all these grand war machines, but even beyond the duty we are bound to, there is the connection of one man to another. Of brothers... " a hand had fallen to her shoulder, firm fingers gripping her strongly and making sure that she knew the weight of the words spoken, "... of family."

"Of family," she whispered to herself, the hushed utterance filling the air of the control room like some singular peel of a bell.

She stared at the walker down below, understanding those old words as if for the first time. She saw the truth of them overlayed over the current situation that she now found herself. She did not like the fact that she was stranded on a hostile planet with an Imperial captain, but that was where she found herself. Her only chance at surviving this - at having a hope of seeing her children again - it was hinged upon this moment. Hinged upon her willingness to join with a man who represented the very government that she had resisted for so many years of her life. They were years that she had spent in flight, then in rebellion. Now, they were years that she had returned to after her self-imposed exile.

"The walker would certainly draw attention," she finally murmured.

"But what if no one was on it."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth's eyes raised to her suggestion, his initial retort halted at the last moment. The Captain closed his mouth in an impassive straight line, then glanced away as he touched his chin.

"Clever."

Turning back to the tower window, he allowed himself to survey the motorpool below in the scant light.

"We could set automatic waypoints for a walker along the most forgiving terrain. Then, if we set off the beacon, it would signal offworld and entice the Umbarans to take the bait all at once."

Of course, once the Umbarans destroyed the rogue walker, the clock would be reset. It would take only minutes longer for them to realize their error. But by then...

A grudging grin crossed the Captain's face as he turned back.

"I don't suppose between the carnage there are two complete sets of intact uniforms, are there?"

The dead Umbaran against the rails had taken three to his chest, but still had a pair of pristine boots, slacks, and an unblemished helmet.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There were sometimes unfortunate consequences of her taking the second form in a fight, and at the Captain's question the Lupine bit her lip. She grimaced, then shook her head.

"I am afraid not."

And indeed there was no way to salvage the bloodied and torn uniforms from the mauled bodies of the guards far below on the tarmac. She hoped that the lockers behind them held spare uniforms, at least. It was a long shot, but worth a look through each one. A grumble, and she turned away from Wygraant to begin the process.

One locker opened, holding nothing but a few nylon bags and datapads. It was promptly closed. The one beside it was opened, and in a slight bit of dawning surprise, the Lupine found herself staring at a narrow calendar, taped onto the back of the locker. A Twi'Lek stared back at her, very happy and very naked. The door was slammed shut with a marginal amount of impatience, and she went on to the third locker. This one held a few trinkets, a small holo-projecter, and two older style flimsi-mags. Curious, she pulled one out, and found herself staring at a later edition of Zeltron Love Lounge. It looked like something she would've found crumpled on the floor of Sanis' bunk on Layla, and in a growing fit of impatience, she flippantly tossed it behind her and onto the floor before the door to the third locker was angrily closed.

"Trash and filth," she grumped in annoyance, moving on to the fourth locker.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Imperfect may have to do, then."

Wygraant watched the Jedi's bout of irritation with the lockers with only fleeting curiosity before turning back to the grisly task at hand of disrobing a corpse. The blaster shots had cremated the fabric in puckered circles within a few inches of each other. That could be covered up with something like a satchel or a pack. It didn't have to be flawless, it just had to pass a casual inspection that anyone might make of a speeder biker moving at a checkpoint.

"This should get us at least as far at the star port perimeter. From there, we either force our way in, or use guile."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The sixth locker she tried gave her pause, and slowly reaching in, s'Il ran her fingers over the flimsi that had been fixed to the back. It was a schematic, detailing the layout of the old supply depot they had invaded. A fingertip traced the outline of the tower, moving down slowly to a line that indicated ground level. But it was what was below that line that held her attentions. A shaft, going down, then opening up into what looked to be a cavern. Umbaran glyphs had been scrawled along the side, but there were words in Basic still barely readable. Faded, but there.

"We may not need the starport," her words were quiet, and she strained to read what she could.

"Looks like this place has an underground hangar."

It didn't need to be said, the potential escape that they were standing on.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain stepped closer, peering over Loklorien's shoulder at the schematic.

"Hmm. I do remember something of that. The Umbarans started constructing these towards the latter half of the siege to make it harder for our close air strikes to target their craft."

Touching his chin, the Imperial pored over the scant information available on the aged flimsi.

"There's no guarantee that we'll find anything serviceable there, but seeing as they were already using this as a surplus motorpool, we'd be foolish not to check it out."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"According to this, the lift that will take us down is in the service building next to the tower."

A few more moments of staring, and the Lupine finally curled her fingers over the top of the flimsi, pulling it out. Mindful to not tear it, she slowly backed away with the map in hand. Her pack bumped into Wygraant as she shifted her feet, and partially turning, afforded him a sideways look with her 'sightless' eye.

"We'll need to manually set the coordinates into the walker, unless you know of a trick to get the thing moving remotely."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Without a droid for the task, I'm afraid the matter is more of a brute force affair." Wygraant admitted with a shrug, sidling past to access the nearby bank of monitors.

"I'll tend to that. The computer here has a topography map. I'm sure I can make the walker look convincing."

He paused suddenly, turning back to the Jedi with a glint of suspicion in his eye.

"I'll need a modicum of insurance that you won't simply light off for Celestials-know-where once you find a serviceable ship."

By his posture, the Captain seemed to hint that Loklorien's word alone probably wasn't good enough.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her brow knit in slight surprise as she stared at him, eyes narrowing as she pulled a decidedly unimpressed expression. She could understand his reasons, but it still struck her as somewhat sudden. Truthfully, she had no intentions on leaving the man to fend for himself, and while she knew that for many her word was iron-clad, for an Imperial it was decidedly less so. And so she stared at him.

Slowly, the Lupine pulled in a long breath. She blinked.

"Like what."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth's eyes tracked down to the Lupine's arm.

"That lightsaber ought to do."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

An incredulous look crept over her features then, and s'Il shook her head.

"No."

But, he did need something, and she knew it.

Slowly, the flimsi was set down on a control panel, and clicking open the clasp on her pack, she reached inside. Slender fingers closed around the one thing that kept her afloat during the long months of isolation. Pulling out a palm-sized holoprojecter, she glanced down at it, turning it over in her grasp. A scowl, then slowly - reverently almost - she extended it to Wygraant.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain took the projector with the recognized reverence with which it was given, pausing with it outstretched before doing anything further.

"What is this?"

He switched the device on.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

In the moment before he turned it on, the Lupine was inwardly chastising herself for not password protecting the activation sequence. But, with the flick of a thumb it was far too late for that.

The projector flared to life, three dimensional blue static jittering but for a split second before blinking into the form of s'Ilancy herself, tenderly smiling down at a tightly wrapped bundle held in her arms. The image held for a few seconds before switching to another, this time of a young girl beaming at the holocamera. In the background it was easy to tell that she was in the hangar of a cruiser, a blurry portion of s'Ilancy just behind with a hand on the girl's shoulder. And despite the monochromatic limitations of the projector, it was easy to tell that her hair was as blonde as the Captain's.

[Rolth Wygraant]

He could demand clarification, but it was enough information to make an inference. The cherubic face of the youngling shared enough of s'Ilancy's features to make the point. Rolth's eyes traced from the hologram to s'Ilancy. After a second cycling of footage, the Captain turned the device off.

"It will have to do."

He had so many questions, and neither the time nor empathy to sort them out. Wasn't attachment forbidden, in the Jedi parlance? Nevertheless, the proof of the contrary was held in the palm of his hand. The Captain carefully pocketed the emitter, retrieving the topographical dataslip from the computer as he headed for the stairs.

"I won't be long, then."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She watched in silence as he left, eye lingering on his back before he was out of sight, taking one of the few possessions she cherished so dearly. A huffed breath escaped her nose, and the Lupine turned back around to stare out the expansive transparisteel windows, affording an admittedly impressive view of... well, of murky half-night. She let a half-lidded gaze sweep from one end of the depot to the other, barely able to pick out the shapes of the mangled bodies far below. One hand moved to pass over her saber gauntlet, feeling the strangely organic contours, the ridges, rivets, and edges that had become so familiar over the course of decades.

Her thoughts returned to their conversation earlier in the morning,, as if drawn back to the words that Wygraant had spoken.

We're on Umbara, remember? We both know General Krell's crimes. How many who use your singular talent must become monsters before it makes sense to view your ancient religion with skepticism and cold dread?"

s'Il had been more rattled by those words than she chose to show; and in fact she had purposefully looked past them and how true they rang. Dwelling on them only twisted the knife further. Only reminded her that she had become that very same monster that he spoke of. Only, her crimes were far and away above what Krell had done. At least in her eyes they were. The Darkness that she had fallen into, the Darkness that she had held close, peering into it hungrily. And she had seen much in that Darkness.

Made worse now, by the fact that an Imperial Captain had been the one to unknowingly push that knife inward, reopening the wound.

A deep breath, and she kept her gaze outward. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Her feelings stretched out then, as her eyes closed fully, head angling back ever so slightly. She focused on the here and now, pushing her shame back down and covering it up with the immediate needs of the moment.

Captain Wygraant was as desperate to escape Umbara as she was, and she was determined to make sure that the both of them left the planet alive. Her thoughts snaked through the whole of the depot, watching, guarding, and testing.

They could afford no distractions now, nor could they risk discovery.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Though they were in the relative comfort of Umbaran midday, Captain Wygraant took little solace in knowing that the scant light that made it easier for him to see his path would no doubt also make him plain as day to any enemy Umbarans who might happen upon him. So he ran toward the walker with the same urgency as he'd used previously to assail the tower. Coming to a skidding halt beneath the squat port-side middle leg strut, the Captain allowed himself a moment to catch his breath before he pushed out from under the hull, eyeing the handrails that would allow him to climb up for ingress.

Moments later, he was in, opening the pilot hatch with a somewhat neglected sound of protesting hinges. The air inside the walker smelled stale. Rancid lubrication oil, and the stink of trace ozone mixed with sweat and winterizing compound. It was a museum's cocktail - a testament to the lack of use this tank had seen in decades.

At least the computer works, Rolth thought in relief as he booted up the cockpit systems, shifting uneasily in the seat which had a crack in the middle of it's synthetic cover. Flickering bootup screens flagged the insignia of the Galactic Empire, marking at what point in the amber of galactic history this relic had likely become stuck. Working with the urgent calm of a professional, Wygraant quickly entered the topographical map into the drive system. It took a few minutes to acquaint himself with an unfamiliar system before he arrived at an autopilot feature. Unfortunately a proficiency in moving objects in space did not translate to the same level of comfort in driving ground vehicles, but eventually the Captain figured out exactly what he needed. He began to painstakingly connect a series of waypoints to each other, following the least-formidable terrain along a path that should carry the walker ever-closer to the star port. If this behemoth made as much noise with it's legs as it did with a rusty hinge, half the defense force should roll out to meet it.

With as many waypoints as Wygraant dared program now logged into the computer, the Captain rose from his seat. Half perched in the cockpit, he tapped the activate key, causing a great cacophony of noise as he bounded out of the tank, tumbling backwards in the dirt awkwardly. The AT-TE continued unabated, stomping in sequenced certainty as it began to leave the motorpool.

Savoring a smirk of a job well done, Rolth rolled up to his feet, and began to trot towards the next arranged meeting point.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She was not so much watching over him as sensing everything around him. Still standing in the control tower, s'Il had allowed herself the luxury of immersing herself in the Force, using it to track along the eddies and ripples, looking for any sign of deviation. There was none. And as she pulled in a long breath, the Lupine let one eye open as the initial rumbling of age-old motors ground into life. Even from a distance, the walker thundered its' protestations at activation with particular ferocity. But, it obeyed, and as she pulled her thoughts back, she watched as one leg lifted, internal gyros and sensors maintaining balance as the enormous warmachine began forward.

The sight of Wygraant; well, a flicker of a shadow against already dim 'daylight', was signal enough, and s'Il turned on her heel. It was a quick journey, down the stairwell, and loping out onto the tarmac, the sound of the walker assailed her ears with nothing to muffle the din.

But, it was something else that arrested her attention, and she felt her heart quicken. Booted feet dug against the tarmac, and her entire body drew tense. The Lupine surged forward then, toward the utility shed.

The Imperial was already nearly to the shed, and closing her eyes she once more sent out her senses into the aether. There was someone in the shed that had not been there before; someone who's urgency radiated outward like jagged waves. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she suddenly knew that they'd not dispatched all of the Umbaran guards, and as she continued to sprint along the dusty, windswept tarmac, she instinctively ignited the brilliant orange blades of her sabre gauntlet.

Rounding a shield substation pylon that now put the Imperial between herself and the shed, the Lupine dipped into her inner reserves, determined to overtake Wygraant and intercept the enemy that she could now feel with crystal clarity.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth turned on a bootheel at the sound of that familiar hiss, catching sight of s'Ilancy bearing upon him with full speed. So this was it, then. She only needed him as far as he could tend to her distraction. Eyes wide, the Captain brought his own blaster up to bear against the former Jedi - for whatever good that might do. Yet, before he could loose a shot, she'd blown right past him, barreling toward the shed as if she knew something dangerous that he didn't.

Slow to react, Wygraant pulled an about-face.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The door opened with a hiss, revealing the eerie glow of an Umbaran helmet plate, and s'Il caught sight of the glow of a blaster barrel as it was raised. Green energy bolts lanced out, the first three deflected with ease. A fourth crumbled a spot of durracrete next to her foot, yet still she barreled forward. But it was two small, skittering objects that distracted her momentarily. She remembered them from the stories that the clones had told her.

Millicreeps.

Forearm angled, the orange blades shifted to the side as another blaster bolt was sent back the way it'd come, its' return trajectory close to one of the hurriedly-crawling little machines of electrical death. Their tails whipped to and fro, electrical currents visibly zipping along their lengths.

She skidded to a halt, backtracking a few steps.

"Run!"

A hand was swept out, the Force obeying her command and sending the Imperial back a few steps.

Another volley of green bolts descended upon her as the Umbaran stepped fully out of the shed. Two shots went wide, two more were sent careening away harmlessly. The last made contact, singing an ugly line across her upper arm.

Still the millicreeps drew closer, and in a rare moment of desperation to get Wygraant to move, s'Il reached out with her thoughts and memories, planting a horrid scene of painful electrocution in his own mind born from what the Clones had told her.

"Run!!"

[Rolth Wygraant]

Fight or flight response had landed Wygraant firmly into fight mode, so committed was he from the previous ill-informed attempt on s'Ilancy. A shot barked from his blaster on that killing reflex, adrenaline kicking it just to the left as his mental calculus suddenly shifted with force. As if he was being picked up off his feet, Wygraant turned tail, pounding the dirt to get as much distance between him and the crawling droid devices as possible. A brief attempt to glance behind and gauge distance he might use to mount a counterattack brought the Captain to the realization that the millicreeps were much faster than he credited them.

He kept running.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A third barrage of blasterfire assailed her, and s'Il doggedly beared down on the Umbaran. She deflected what she could, dodging what she could not. The hail of lancing green bolts was relentless however, and a blossoming of burning pain flared through her senses as her body reacted, shoulder switching back at the impact. Acrid, flesh-charred smoke filled her nostrils. It was a sadly familiar scent.

She could not die here, on this dark world.

Another impact, this time the pain burst through her vision in a brilliance of white stars even as she felt singing embers spread outward from her side. Then her leg.

Maddening resolve overtook her as she unslung her own rifle, and bringing it to bear, sighted down the barrel for a fraction of a second before opening fire. Angry red flashed to life, and a steady stream of fire pelted along a tracking route that began a few feet in front of their adversary, and ending in dead-center of his armored chest. Sparks, a silent scream, and the Umbaran fell forward.

But there was no time to rest on her fiery victory, and the Lupine wheeled about, lifting her rifle once more. One of the millicreeps, closest to Wygraant, exploded violently as her fire found its' mark.

The other veered away from the Imperial, on a loop that brought it back towards her.

Two shots left in the energy pack, she ejected it with the ease of a seasoned veteran while in the same motion slapping another fresh one in place.

The Umbaran construct skittered on a zig-zagging pattern, its' tail quivering with electricity.

And then her leg failed her, and the Lupine went down to one knee, still firing at the millicreep. And still it closed the distance.

Labored breathing sent jolts of pain through her nerves, and she let the rifle fall. Her sabres came up in a cross guard, ready for the inevitable.

She could not die here, on this dark world.

[Rolth Wygraant]

With the droidlet distracted by a disabled quarry, Wygraant got the scant breathing room allowed to recover his postition. The window was quickly closing between a clean shot and a dangerous one. The Imperial Captain didn't have time needed to mentally sort out whether he preferred a clean shot to one that netted results. He fired. Again, and again, and again. Green bolts danced along the ground, one shearing an entire array of metal legs off one side of the millicreep so that it could only skitter in one tight and useless circle.

Shakily, Rolth closed the distance, firing twice without doubt. The Umbaran droidlet spluttered into bits.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She watched the millicreep as it was destroyed with the detached air of one who had fully expected to be spending their next moments explaining to the Maker why they did the things they did. Shifting into listlessness, she wavered only a few moments before slumping forward, her lightsabre deactivating so that both hands could hit the tarmac in the attempt to keep from fully pitching forward. Her shoulder and middle burned, her leg refusing to allow any weight on it - any attempts at trying to rise under her own power were now out of the question.

Wide eyes stared down at the gravel-strewn durracrete.

Deep breaths that only compounded the damage done.

She leaned forward, eyes now clenching shut as her forehead came to rest on the ground in some impotent effort to shut out the pain.

"Thank you," the Lupine finally managed.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Now it was he who was in the damned awkward position of decision making. Captain Wygraant regarded the ex-Jedi's weakly-muttered thanks with the look of a man with plenty on his mind. The warm blaster in his hand felt surprisingly light in his grip. He spent a few seconds to think about how close they were to the finish line, and what exactly might be waiting for them on the last leg. Would s'Ilancy continue to aid him? Would the state of her condition slow him down? Was she still perhaps planning to settle accounts at the eleventh hour.

Was he?

If escape was a doorway beyond, he could leave Umbara in relative safety with no less than Loklorien s'Ilancy as a hostage...or a trophy. A thumb adrift in idle thought brushed against the toggle on his weapon that determined kill or stun. What a damned awkward position indeed.

"You'll be wanting this back."

Wygraant retrieved a familiar object from his pocket, and tossed it to the Lupine after what felt like an eternity of consideration. His face remained thin-lipped and thoughtful.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The emitter clattered along the durracrete to come to a stop beside her left hand. She took a moment to gather herself, and slowly lifted her head back up, narrowed, pain-filled eye staring at it. Like some creature relegated to the most laborious of tasks, she closed her hand around its' familiar contours. She was under no illusions, here.

"Leave."

A cough, and with a groan she rocked back, looking up at him as he stood over her.

"I can't stop you."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I'll be damned if I'm leaving you to the Umbarans. Not after all the trouble they've caused."

There was, of course, some double meaning to Wygraant's words. His expression softened slightly as he offered an outstretched gloved hand.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A few seconds passed as her gaze shifted from his face down to his extended hand. Another few breaths passed before slowly, she lifted her own arm, hand meeting his in a tight grasp.

Another wave of rolling pain, but she bit her lip and bulled onward, determined to at least rise on one leg. He helped to steady her enough to where she could limp alongside, and the two started for the shed.

Her head lolled to the side and down at the efforts to push down each explosion of burning fire that frayed away at her internal sense, her temple pressing into his shoulder. She felt the beginning waves of nausea and the telltale warmth of a metabolism bent on righting the wrongs of the body spreading throughout each nerve-ending. It was beginning.

"You're giving the Imperial Navy an almost chivalrous face," she ground out in a strained voice as the two stepped into the shed.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant made a face at the words of his unlikely companion.

"All the same, I'd rather you didn't make that observation. One woman's chivalry becomes one man's abetting the enemy."

She was heavier than he'd considered, and it took a bit of effort keeping her steady as they entered the shed.

"You've put me in a quandary, and one I doubt you're prepared to simplify by falling unconscious or dying. Since that's out the window, I imagine we're still stuck with each other."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

In the darkness of the shed, the hazy glow of a lift could be seen resting towards the far wall.

s'Il snorted out a huffed breath, feeling the coppery taste of her own blood in her mouth. With effort, she let go of her side and reached up to give the Imperial a pat on the cheek.

"I said 'almost'," another cough, "I'm not stupid."

They stepped into the waiting lift, and s'Il wondered what awaited them down below. As she hung from Wygraant like some macabre marionette, the Lupine did her level best to exist in a standing position of her own accord. It was mostly a failure, as her muscles cried out. Her body had begun its' almost self-cannibalization in order to start knitting up her wounds. It was a vicious process, and her skin had become pale, the first beads of sweat appearing along her hairline as her body's temperature continued to steadily rise.

The doors closed, and with a soft click, the lift began to descend.

"I know what you're thinking. Doesn't take the Force to see those gears turning."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant bristled at the sudden violation of his personal space, relenting only when he saw the sad state of the woman he was dragging along. Even in the dim light, he could see that she'd grown pale and clammy. In this state, s'Ilancy was rapidly blurring the line between asset and liability.

"Perhaps it doesn't." Wygraant agreed as the lift began the slow descent.

"The only binding to our marriage of convenience is a prisoner's dilemma. I have no illusions, and neither do you."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She slumped against thewall of the lift, its' minor vibrations as they continued to hurtle ever downwards seemed oddly soothing, but it did not distract her from sending her attentions to her wounds. Certainly not the worst that she'd ever recieved, but they were not good, either. She bared her teeth, letting out a pained hiss as she inspected the blackened, burned flesh. Bits of her uniform were picked away from the skin before it could become further cemented to her charred skin. The smell was horrid, and singular. It was a smell that was unfortunately familiar.

"No, I don't."

Plucking away a piece of fabric, she let it fall to the floor.

"But right now it's not something I can- " a gasp, as she prodded into her injury, continuing to do her best to clean it, "... wring my hands over."

A long breath escaped as she pulled her hand away and moved on to her shoulder.

"You and I used to serve the same side. Now we do not. But for a very small moment we are once again forced to cooperate if we're to get off of this damned planet."

The lift finally slowed, coming to a soft halt as the doors opened up into a cavern of murky darkness. What lay beyond the doors was anyone's guess. With a pinched expression, the Lupine eased herself more upright, as one hand went out to latch onto his shoulder so that she could steady herself.

"What happens after, I don't know; nor do I care to divine it."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Ah, and you've marked the difference between us."

A tight smile barely traced the Captain's face.

"That is the Jedi's mantra, or at least one of them, isn't it? Live in the moment. I believe I overheard that more than once during our mutual service. And now you are a starship captain. Perhaps you should start to consider that mantra. When you command a mass in space weighing thousands of tons, living in the moment only ensures you will die with your eyes wide open. You should learn to live a moment ahead, if not three or ten moments ahead. It takes time to adapt and correct course. Time half spent pushing against the inertia of an imperfect past."

He glanced at the Lupine in all of her shabby state.

"If I believed in living in the moment, I would have shot you dead five minutes ago."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Your restraint is admirable," came the return as they stepped from the lift and into the darkness. Her eyes dilated almost instantly, but even they had trouble picking apart anything that might lay before them. A frustrated ventilation of air, and she cast her gaze to either side, hoping to find some sort of breaker panel that might allow them to turn on any glowpanels.

"But, you've a decent point," she conceded with a nod.

"Though I must admit, captaining a ship is new to me."

s'Il blinked, her eyes finally catching sight of a metal box a short distance away. She gestured to it.

"Demotion brings along new experiences, I suppose.

[Rolth Wygraant]

That comment elicited a sardonic expression.

"There are far worse fates, Captain. Ask Pong Krell or Darth Vader how many men they demoted."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

For as much as she had tried to bridge their divide, he had torn down her acceptance of advice with particular ease, invoking the names of two monsters that she had thus far done her best to distance herself from. As such, the Lupine fell silent, falling into a brooding quiet that channeled itself outward in physical motion. As they neared the breaker terminal, s'Il extricated herself from Wygraant to half-fall onto the console with a controlled descent. Hands reached out, catching the console with a heavy roughness that elicited a grunt.

For the second time, she changed the subject.

"Power looks to still be routed correctly," her eye scanned the dim readouts that scrolled along a built-in monitor.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I wonder if we can adjust the candles to something resembling decent illumination."

Even in the confines of an interior space, Umbarans kept to the dark. The hallway they had entered was as gloomy and dim as any outside vista. Only the cool illumination of running lamps along the floor and ceiling offered a slight respite. Maintaining a constant level of vigilance in the dim of this place was mentally draining. Rolth had certainly grown tired of the novelty.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A few keystrokes resulted in a whole heap of 'not alot'. The Umbaran glyphs were navigated with about as much finesse as a ronto navigating a sand-glass blower's convention, and exhaling a breath that was equal parts agony and impatience, s'Il found herself stumped. She blinked, letting her eye shift to the side, along the screen to a small icon buried far on the bottom of the readout. A scowl, and the gave it a press.

The glyphs were replaced by what looked like... like Rodian? Another push, and she was greeted by the scrawlings of Huttese. Quickly she cycled it away, and after a few more iterations the controls blinked to Basic. Such a chore. But, at least she could work easier now, and finding the controls that she wanted the Lupine gave another few taps.

"I can adjust them," still she ran her eyes over the screen, taking everything in. Was this what her brothers saw during their time here? Where so many of them found their end? Where so many had been betrayed and killed by a monster?

I am not a monster.

"Looks like they keep everything on the low setting."

A slow sweep of her hand along the holographic slider control, and the glowpanels that lined the hallway grew in brilliance until they illuminated everything; the breaker control console, the lengthened hallway beyond, and even farther down, the blastdoors that led into the actual hangar.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth instinctively winced at the gradient illumination. It had been over a day since he'd seen anything resembling a day cycle. His eyes understandably protested. After a few seconds, the Captain slowly allowed his eyes to widen again.

"Ah." He sighed in relief, a small smile on his face.

"That must be the entry into the hangar superstructure there." He gestured to the heavy blast doors ahead. "Let's get them opened, shall we?"

While it appeared they were nearing the way off this world, Wygraant reminded himself to be careful. To say nothing of the threat of the Umbarans themselves, the act of making a mutual escape with Loklorien s'Ilancy proved to be a high risk endeavour. What were the chances that she might ensure it was only a rescue for herself, and to make him a prisoner of the rescuing Alliance?

Trust was a scant commodity here. They'd both invested in it as much as possible, when each relied on the other to survive in the face of a common Umbaran enemy. What would happen when that threat was removed?

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A hollow look to the blast doors he gestured to. She wanted nothing more than to step through those doors and find something usable. Something that could actually take off and maintain flight.

But, there was also the unknown liability of their position, and the Lupine scowled as she turned away, looking back behind her to the lift doors.

"We'll need to lock that lift," she started while pushing away from the control desk. Limping back the way they'd come, s'Il made slow progress.

"I don't want to take any chances that anyone will be coming down."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth turned slowly.

"We could be walking into a trap, you realize? Even if the Umbarans are gone, if they have automated defenses, we'll hem ourselves in without a contingency."

There was no telling how long before the Umbarans intercepted their rogue walker, if they hadn't already. This far underground would shield them from sound from above. The Captain's instincts told him that the Jedi's caution was aimed in the wrong direction.

"If there are reinforcements coming, then our enemy has an exceptional response time. Let's not cut off our last leg so quickly."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her scowl deepened as she half-turned to stare at him.

"If they figure out where we've gone, it would be much easier to defend one front rather than two."

Her good arm lifted in gesture to the blast doors.

"The launchway will be easier to keep our eyes on."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain frowned.

"Good points to be sure. But I'd be much more comfortable considering that possibility once we know what lies on the other side."

They didn't have time to debate this, and what time they wasted on the topic could prove dangerous. So Rolth acted in unilateral fashion, cutting off debate as he turned back to work on the hangar bay door control. A few seconds of tinkering, and the magnetic lock shifted into the slack position, allowing the heavy doors to glide along their tracks.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Partially leaning agaisnt the wall, s'Il turned a frustrated look to the Imperial, her lips twisting into an expression of annoyance. The man was insufferable. He was so sure in his own assumptions and expected her to fall into line, as though she was a subordinate? Her chest rose and fell, a painful act that had once been so instinctive yet now it brought her agony. Wheezing breaths. She coughed, leaning forward to spit out a stream of blood. It hit the decking below with a small splat, and frowning, she stared at it. Was she so different from him? Was she expecting him to do as she ordered, as though he was simply a part of her crew?

It was a thought that arose, and one that she almost immediately fought. But, in the end it twisted itself through her mind, bringing her to the ugly conclusion that the two - Imperial and Alliance officers - were not all that different. And while he might fall back on the fact that only one of them had a tangible connection to the Force, the truth was able to stand on its' own. It could weather the resistance.

Again she stared at him with a narrow, sideways glare. Even as the blast doors groaned, protesting at having to trundle along their inset tracks, they obeyed the command he had keyed into the door pad. The doors had only just parted before the glowpanels flickered. Once, twice, then they blinked out for a half-second before coming back on. Only, now the two found themselves bathed in red as a soft whine began to sound from unseen speakers.

A siren.

It wasn't so loud as to be painful, but it was audible regardless.

With a snarl, the Lupine pushed away from the wall, beginning the painfully slow hobble to follow in Wygraant's wake. She made it to the control console, sucking in a painful breath. A grimace, and she pushed away from that as well. Without help, her pace and balance was precarious; slow, and labored. Her offhand pressed against the opposite shoulder, pressuring the charred and burnt flesh in some vain attempt to stop the lancing fire that still thrummed through her nerves.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The klaxon was almost polite, yet just assertive enough to get attention. Rolth fixed his eyes at a point on the ceiling as he paused to listen.

"I suppose that means they've found the walker."

Which meant that it wouldn't be long before the Umbarans followed the breadcrumb trail back to the tower, the motorpool, and the hangar. That meant the clock had been reset, and was ticking again. Wygraant squared to the opening blast door that would lead them to the hangar, and once he was able, he passed through the threshold. He paused, looking back to the wounded Jedi. He shook his head, doubling back to offer her his shoulder once more.

"This isn't the sort of race that awards finishing second, Captain."

As he said that, Wygraant panned over the offerings. Umbaran fighter craft that were no-doubt nimble, but that seated one and appeared to have no discernible controls. There was an old Republic Y-wing missing a nacelle. Then at the far end of the hangar, an old Eta-class shuttle. The Imperial grimaced.

"This must be someone's idea of a very bad joke."

Not only would they be forced to beat an escape on a slow and nearly defenseless shuttlecraft, but it was hideous to boot. He had always hated the Eta class, and he always would.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Accepting his help, the Lupine grimaced at the thought that second place in either of their races would mean indefinite incarceration. To speak nothing of actually having to make it off Umbara, whatever would happen after would be something that neither of them wanted to come up short on. The thought of imprisonment on Coruscant was enough to darken her thoughts for only a moment though, as a wave of almost light-headed euphoria swept over her. Her body pitched from hot to cold, her skin warm to the touch through it all. She felt a bead of sweat trail down from her hairline to cut a path down the side of her face. Deep lungfuls of the stale air around them were sucked in, and her stomach growled. The weight of the pack still slung over her shoulder seemed to grow with each minute, yet through it all she found her thoughts occupying much more fanciful territories.

She couldn't help the weak laugh that escaped her lips as she followed his line of sight.

"Oh but Captain," came the chuckle, "... it's so happy to see you."

[Rolth Wygraant]

In a line, his Jedi tagalong had captured the full zeitgeist of the absurdity. He glowered back at the ridiculous cockpit. If she can see it and I can see it, how in blazes did the engineers not catch it? In the Captain's completely unsubstantiated imaginings, some part of the Clone Wars had been that much harder to fight solely because of the atrocious aesthetics of the Eta class shuttle. A silly smiling face, gnawing away at the morale of the poor fools who flew inside it.

"Well, the sooner we're aboard is the sooner we don't have to look at it anymore!" He bit off a bit sharply. This was, after all, just the symptom of the disease. They were still not off Umbara, and they needed speed and guile to finish the job.

Rolth punched the controls to drop the gangplank, then made sure that s'Ilancy made double-time out of her wounded gait.

"Can you fly?" He asked, considering what options they had available.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She gave an almost lighthearted sigh, letting her eye sweep over the shuttle's interior as Wygraant helped her up the ramp and inside. Everything seemed in order, of course they'd not gotten a look at the cockpit yet. Truthfully though, she had to admit that it was a long shot, judging by the musty, stale are that was now assailing her nose. The seating looked as though it had been mostly removed, making way for more cargo space. What few deck-mounted chairs were left had begun to fade, the plasticized fabric cracked and brittle. The interior bulkheads had gained small, silken webs between the beams, and idly she wondered just how anything could eke out an existence in such a place. It wasn't like tiny flying insects often found their ways down here; and in fact she was rather certain that not many humanoids had been on this shuttle for decades. It certainly seemed that way, at least.

The Lupine let out another cough as the Imperial turned her about to face the cockpit.

"Fly?" she blinked as they stepped over the threshold, "... Not without getting sick."

Getting her first good look at the command console and flight controls, there was at least enough cognizant thoughts left to know that a small amount of gutting had occurred. A cover had been taken off and set aside, wires now hanging from beneath the dash. The hyperdrive levers were missing, and a number of keypads had been pried off to reveal a womprat's nest of wires and junction connectors. Some looked as though there had been an attempt to piece together the unruly mass, but the much more likely reason had been that some of the shuttle's function boards had been simply pulled out.

It was not unfixable, and she had already begun - out of habit - to begin to inwardly list the missing components. But the ticking clock was hanging over the both of their heads now, and time was at a premium.

"Set me down there," one hand extended, pointing at a spot on the deck between the two front seats.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant did as instructed, easing the Lupine down with a grunt.

"You're somewhat heavier than you look, you know."

Not precisely the sort of thing one said to a lady, but then again, Loklorien s'Ilancy was many things more than just a lady. Once she was seated, Wygraant took the pilot's seat, cringing as a spring in the seat made it's way through the dry rot. Well, comfort was a luxury after all.

"Beginning the warm-up cycle. Well, I'm rather surprised we even have fuel."

Still, the aeronautics were in safe mode, the hyperdrive had of course been gutted, and who knew what other manner of disassembly this motley bucket was in.

The power plant beneath the deck began to spin up, creaking like an old man trying to stand from a recliner. The engine stalled, but a second attempt achieved a sluggish energy feed ignition.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Muscle weighs more than fat," came her idle reply. Her tone was almost whimsical even, as she leaned partially against the center console to get a better look at the wild bramble of innards that had once been so snug in their wiring harness beneath the pilot's dash. A hand half patted and half shoved Wygraant's leg to the side as she groaned, not exactly finding confidence in the sight she was seeing. An actuator had been unceremoniously pulled out at some point, as well as the connected junction box. Which meant that a key part of the shuttle's operating systems was blaringly missing.

"You're not gonna be able to get this thing off the ground," she mumbled while sliding herself further into the Imperial's legroom. She hissed in pain as her hand gripped a bundle of cables, trying to push them out of the way.

"The repulsor solenoids are gone. Can't make a ship go anywhere if what you're telling it to do isn't going past the keys you're punching."

A labored breath as she did her best to identify the handful of other missing parts.

"Looks like your coolant compressor lines are cut, too. And the power plant ignition plugs are-"

A loud bang sounded throughout the entire shuttle in that moment, heralding the sputtering, last breaths of the power plant.

The shuttle fell silent once more.

"- dry-rotted."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Spoken like a true mechanic." Rolth stated dryly. "No doubt the next thing you'll inform me of is the price."

That price needed little introduction. Wasted time attempting to get the Eta off the ground. Now, the time necessary to find a suitable replacement. From his vantage, the Captain spotted a pair of Umbaran fighters. In the follow-up to the original invasion of Umbara during the Clone Wars, technicians of the GAR had a notorious go at sussing out the strange craft. And they'd had the luxury of time.

"Those fighters. Come on."

He pulled the Jedi to her feet, not waiting up after doing so. He moved down the gangplank with little pause, crossing the taxi lane to where the open canopy craft were berthed.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She was unsteady on her feet, leaning heavily on the pilot seat's backrest while watching Wygraant storm from the shuttle.

"No wait!"

It was wasted breath, she suspected. But it didn't stop her mind from racing, and her pained scowl only deepened. She could fix the Eta, that much she knew. Or least if she had his help she knew it could be done. Their time was growing short, yes, but if they weren't leaving on the shuttle, then she would not be leaving Umbara at all. Injury coupled with the fact that flying and emptying one's stomach at the same time had come together to give her only one option, and she was currently standing in it. Well, standing as well as she could.

"Typical," came her next words, spoken low and mostly to herself.

A sigh, and the Lupine let her shoulder pack slip, feeling the weight of it fall to the deck even as she herself slowly slid down to sit once more. There was no real dejection, only acceptance.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Annoyed at the turn of events in their escape attempt, Captain Wygraant shook his head as he approached the odd shape of the umbaran fighter. The cockpit appeared to be open, and there were remarkably few points on the craft that appeared to be moving parts. The wings, if they could be called such, seemed to array in a squat loop around the stub of a fuselage. It all felt like looking at art, rather than a machine of war. Something delicate and - more to the point - exposed. Maybe there was something he was missing?

With a sigh, Rolth climbed into the craft. Once his body weight was in the pilots chair, everything lit up. Running lamps appeared at the periphery of the cockpit, and a nest of simple-yet-alien HUD artifacts flicked into the air. He felt a sudden displacement of air, just as a force screen of some sort encased the cockpit like a bubble. While it was an uneasy thought to consider that this might be the only thing keeping him away from hard vacuum, Wygraant had to admit that - at the very least - he'd be just as exposed in a TIE fighter.

"Well now, let's see just what makes you tick, I suppose."

No obvious controls. No switches or buttons. Just holographic interface. Readouts in the center, and two hovering discs. The Captain reached a hand to one, which seemed to adhere to his touch when he was close enough. Then the other. A slight turn of the wrist, and...

"Whoa...whoa!"

He hadn't even heard an engine power up, and yet the fighter was now performing a tight degree pirouette in the middle of the hangar. By some sheer amount of luck, Wygraant missed the Eta shuttle, floating to the ceiling to scrape a rather sturdy shield against support beams. He jostled, suddenly glad that his Jedi partner could not see the bewildered expression on his face.

"The Umbarans are madmen, the lot of them! No wonder we won the war!"

The fighter feathered back to the deck, bouncing lightly on its side as it skidded past the Eta's cockpit. So, that control adjusted yaw apparently...

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The man was a fool. A complete fool. Their best chance to escape and he goes to test out some old Umbaran fighter. For a few moments she still sat, scowling as she pulled her pack into her lap. Sliding one hand inside, the small medkit was puled out for a second time; only now it would be used on herself. Unclasping the latch on the slender, narrow case, s'Il snatched out the tube of kolto cream. In frustration she lashed out with her good leg, catching a small open-ended crate with her boot and sending it over to its' side and spilling its' contents out beneath the co-pilot's seat. A clatter of small objects met her ears, but she paid no mind to the dumped innards that she'd upended.

The tube's cap came off in a particularly forceful twist, and setting it on her leg, the Lupine set about removing her uniform tunic. Clasps were undone, and she slowly... carefully, peeled it off. The charred tatters that had been seared through were already beginning to stick to the ugly burns of her wound, and lips curling back, s'Il let out an angry, pained snarl.

"Sure," she called to a man that she knew could not hear her.

"You're all fine and dandy getting patched up, but when it comes to returning the favor -"

A brief flash of glowing light filled the shuttle's viewscreen, and the Lupine snapped her head up to look at one of the Umbaran fighters shooting upward.

And in a moment of indignant annoyance, she snatched her tunic off the rest of the way, eliciting a growl as singed clothes separated from burnt flesh with one quick motion.

"I hope you crash that thing!"

[Rolth Wygraant]

By degrees, the ride became less nauseating. In a record amount of time, the Captain was figuring out the controls. Yaw. Pitch. Acceleration. Everything he needed to actually fly the bloody thing, which he was still doing with all of the acuity of a newborn eopie - but a quick-learning one. One holographic control featured prominently in tinged red. Wygraant couldn't read the glyphs, but he had a fairly good idea that was the trigger for the plasma cannon and the missile pods, respectively.

As he bounced and thumped along the hangar walls, the Captain realized that the shielding was both robust and intuitive, which was handy when you flew in a ship that required a shield to not be sucked into space. Another control he didn't recognize, and Wygraant tested it with a waggle of his thumb in the air. A flicker of static popped in his ears. Was this the comms system?

"Captain s'Ilancy?" He queried, slowing from a lazy spin to face the Eta again. A careful shift of his hands brought the fighter to a still position.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The crackle of a voice interrupted her attempts at self-medication, and with a grumble s'Il looked up from where she sat on the deck. Apparently the shuttle's computer systems were still largely intact. A groan as she reached over to jerkily swipe at the communications receiver toggle.

"What do you want," was the ground out reply, followed by an unintelligible mumble.

Her gaze swept from the viewscreen to the box she'd kicked, and leaning forward gingerly, she pulled it closer. A tangle of parts greeted her eyes, and with a half-grunt, her fingers hooked around a pair of plugs.

"I'm busy."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"It seems that I've, er, had a spot of luck figuring out the native hardware."

The fighter wobbled, but otherwise maintained a steady hover.

"There might just be room in the canopy if you can cram in."

Barely, the Captain thought, looking at the literal bubble that he inhabited. Still, it was better than a lumbering fixer-upper with no weapons.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"If I get in that thing, I will throw up on you."

Words spoken idly as she felt a spark of hope begin to rise. Whatever had been stripped from the shuttle... it seemed that some enterprising Umbaran had taken it upon himself to try to fix the thing up in his spare time. Apparently manning old depots was as boring on Umbara as it was most everywhere else. Her hand sifted through the mess of pilfered parts; solenoids that looked to've come from an old Headhunter, mostly pliable compressor lines (still perfectly usable, however), and ignition plugs that probably came from one of the old walkers up top. Everything had already been modified it seemed, and the Lupine thanked the Force for bored Umbarans with nothing better to do than to try and fix up an old, ugly-as-sin shuttle.

There were other parts as well, but the ones most needed were all here.

Her eyes lifted then, as she purposefully ignored Wygraant for the time being. He was as much of a stubborn mule as she'd often enough been accused of being... and perhaps in the moment she was simply returning the favor. A pained groan, and she leaned forward to reach out for a second box, this one resting on the co-pilot's seat. Succeeding in grabbing hold of an open flap, s'Il unceremoniously jerked it back, pulling the whole thing from the chair so that it fell squarely to the deck. She pulled it between splayed legs, her brow knit as she peered inside.

What she saw was - in much better circumstances - what some folks would call a 'hangar find'. One of those rare things that a person happened upon by sheer luck and the good graces of the universe.

Her mouth fell open slightly, and gingerly she reached a hand inside to bring out her new treasure.

A hyperdrive.

But, not just any hyperdrive. This thing had come from a solar sailer... a Jemlaat-class sail yacht. No one had those things anymore, let alone a hyperdrive from one. Her eye went over every centimeter of the thing, and turning it over, she run a thumb over its' delicately carved outer casing. You just didn't find craftsmanship like this anymore. Hells, even the charge planes looked undamaged.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Considering that it is presently the only serviceable means off planet, I would think you'd consider knuckling under."

From his vantage, Wygraant could only get a fleeting glimpse of whatever s'Ilancy was doing in the cockpit. Was she still committed to the folly of getting the shuttle working? Their escape was quickly becoming a quagmire.

"We need to leave, and we need to do so quickly."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She continued to turn the hyperdrive over in her hands, inspecting every edge and interior connection that she could see. The casing was intact, and the few portions of exposed circuit boards looked to be perfectly serviceable. The whole thing appeared nearly brand new, and for a few moments she couldn't help but simply stare at it in partial shock. It was almost as though the damn thing was a lump of pure Dantooine glitter-gold, hammered out of some mine.

She pursed her lips, and leaning forward, the Lupine gave an unintelligible grumble as she reach out, free hand pulling at an under-panel. It came free with a bit of force, and she let the cover fall to the side with a clatter.

"Remember that thing you don't need the Force to know?"

Her voice was strained, as she did her best to move closer to the exposed, empty opening.

"I think I'll take my chances with the shuttle... "

The wound in her side made itself known, and she gasped, freezing in motion as any act of movement proved a bad idea.

The hyperdrive still lay in her lap.

"I... I do not think that I want to go to Coruscant."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Nor do I particularly wish to find myself on Bothawui." the Captain countered, grim-faced. He watched the Jedi continue to toil, frustration etching on his face. At last, he terminated the comm line.

"Sod it!"

Removing his hands from the controls, Wygraant allowed the fighter to power down as his seat was lowered to the ground. He exited the craft, sprinting the distance to make his way up the Eta's gangplank.

"You are stubborn to the point of suicide, you know."

He barged into the cockpit, making a quick visual pass of the things they'd need at bare minimum to fly.

"The lateral magnetic coil is unseated. Give me that J-clamp."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A weak cough only elicited a hiss that escaped between thin, pale lips. She very nearly hugged the hyperdrive as close to her chest as her shoulder wound would allow while using her good leg to kick his requested tool closer to him.

"There's a reason that I'm still alive," she offered almost breathlessly.

With a sigh the Lupine leaned to the side to pluck the ignition plugs up by their corded 'tails. She gave them a quick once over before sending them in his direction as well.

"While you're whispering sweet nothings to the coil, you can install these."

Her body leaned to the side then, carefully, so that she could have better access to the currently-empty hyperdrive cradle slot. All of the wire connectors seemed in order; someone was definitely trying to fix up this ugly smiling piece of junk.

A further few minutes of inspection passed before she hefted the hyperdrive up, making sure to align its' slider rails with those in the opening. It slide in easily, and with a scowl, s'Il gave it a quick shove to lock it into its' rear connection ports. The effort did not come without a cost, and grunting, she sat motionless as her body reacted. Finally, a grunt as the pain subsided ever so slightly.

"I suspect... " She leaned back then, against the lower portion of the pilot's chair to regain a modicum of energy.

"... that women are stubborn by nature."

Her eye became unfocused then.

"My daughter... she is far more hard headed than I."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Captain s'Ilancy!" Wygraant bit off at last, his voice sharp as he managed to secure the coil in it's housing. Rolth sniffed in a short breath, turning back to glower at his partner.

"I don't have the time for small talk and neither do you! And if you wish to see your daughter again, it will require both of us fighting a clock that has far fewer minutes on it than you believe it does!"

Wygraant bought himself a few seconds of quiet. A few more seconds of tinkering, and an array of controls in the cockpit blinked online.

"I haven't survived this far just to die here. The indignity of it. Hunted like an animal. Darth Vader didn't end me. The Rebels didn't. I'll be damned if this is how it happens."

He didn't even bother closing the coil's access hatch, instead turning to offer the Jedi his hand.

"As it stands, we still have a fighting chance. Save your stories for when we don't."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Staring at him, the Lupine couldn't help the subtle - albeit definitely there - look of incredulous wonder. There was certainly no mirth in her eye as she breathed in, doing her best to keep the blazing fire sensation from making her double over. It was a strange feeling, though certainly not unknown, to push down the angry lances of pain stabbing inward. She bared her teeth then, as she looked away from his face to the offered hand.

"Hunted like an animal."

There was an almost sad note to the tone of her voice, but the overtones of listless memories drowned those sad notes out.

"I know what that's like."

Scooping up the solenoids, the Lupine shoved them into his waiting hand.

"Under the main instrument panel. Been modified, so they'll fit."

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant offered no commentary other than a solemn nod as s'Ilancy returned to the task at hand. He took the offered parts.

"Right, then."

Quickly, he ducked under the panel, laying on his back to give him proper vantage. True to her word, the solenoids were a fit. A bit of a labored fit, but one nonetheless. He heard a pleasing hum of flowing current without having to see any results from his darkened vantage below.

"That ought to get us off the ground."

He quickly shimmied out of his prone state, rolling up to his feet as he quickly found the pilot's chair.

"Strap in. Barring an unforseen malfunction, we're about to be airborne."

As Wygraant spoke, a shadow darkened the hangar opening ahead. It appeared that the head start they'd purchased was about to be spent.

"Quickly now!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Feeling the rumble of the plates beneath her coupled with the knowledge that the shuttle was feathering upwards just a small bit, s'Il clamped her mouth shut as she felt her stomach growl sharply in protest.

Getting up and into the copilot's chair was nearly an impossible feat, but the Lupine ground her teeth, determined to not simply exist as a burnt-up partially broken body on the deck. A disgruntled look up to her cohort, and she let out a string of words that were definitely words, just not Basic. And she would've continued, if the shadow that fell over them did not put a rather fine point on the situation. She let out a groan, rolling to her hands and knees, then just her knees. When she reared up one hand came out to steady her perch with a grip on the console.

"Just... go," she ground out with the growing sense of irritated impatience bred from the man now piloting the shuttle.

It was a strange motion, pulling herself into the copliot's seat and using her aggravation do do so. Her pack was dragged into her lap, and even as the crashstraps were fastened, there waas a growing worry as she a searching hand was yielding a particular absence of something very important.

In that instant, her concerns were not focused on what faced them both now, but what she could not find.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant didn't wait for a moment more. He pushed the sublights to their maximum safe launch speed, streaking toward the exit. As they accelerated towards the opening, what had cast the shadow soon came into view. A light troop transport was feathering it's descent to enter the bay. Just as surprised to see the shuttle as it's occupants were to see the Umbarans, the transport dipped low, giving Wygraant a chance at enough clearance to slip high. The Captain tugged at the flight stick, feeling juddering as the control surfaces fought him. The Eta shuttle rocketed upwards, barely clearing the hangar ceiling as it's belly flopped roughly across the transport, spilling the ship onto it's side in a crash and a shower of sparks.

There was the opening! Wygraant dumped the sublights into a full burn, blasting out of the eye of the needle at a speed that felt painfully slow.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The first scraping of the Eta's belly across the transport below was enough to send both of her hands to the armrests, fingers gripping the ends in a white-knuckled grip. Her eyes clamped shut as she tried to shut out not only the pain from her wounds, but now the rising rebellion happening in her gut. It was like every nightmare come to fruition, playing out across ever sensitive nerve in her body; fire, stinging, throbbing, and pulsing. Everything compounded upon the other, and s'Il now had to contend with the demon that reared its' head during the worst of times. It was a curse.

And when he dumped the sublights, the Lupine couldn't help but lean forward, teeth baring as she felt her stomach turn flips inside of her.

"Captain Wygraant!"

Words spoken in a bizarre, yet demanding tone. Each word was ground out between clenched teeth as she fought her body on every front.

She could understand his desperation; hells, even she herself held the same feeling. But there were limits that her body was reaching; limits that - once she crossed them - would place each of them on far more intimate grounds than either probably wished to be. She had not been lying when she spoke of losing her stomach in the fighter. But the situation now demanded a careful look at the very real cost of using any small ship to escape Umbara.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Best opening we've got!"

Wygraant dumped the sublights, feeling the acceleration push him into his seat as they ascended toward purple clouds. The light impact with the transport had unintentionally bought them some time, as it would take the Umbaran lander a moment to signal for help. But that opening was fleeting. All future openings would be. They were close to escape, but close wasn't there. Not yet.

Rolth glanced to his copilot, who suddenly looked a bit green.

"Are you going to just sit there and look ill, or prime the deflectors for double rear reinforcement?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her only answer was to then crane her neck up, face angled up as an inhuman growl escaped her lips, culminating in an angry cry that seemed to literally rumble through the cockpit. Her body reacted violently as she fought to hold it in check, the Change almost becoming involuntary as she did her best to suppress the sudden bottoming out of her stomach. Was this what Hallesmut was like? Was this what cruel fate her ancestors had placed upon her? The Bloodline hated her; hated her and despised her. It cast ugly curses upon her existence and burdened her with a weak stomach that could not hold its' contents in the face of atmospheric jostling without the need for chemically-induced balance.

"I'm going to pull your joints apart, is what I'll do!"

But, despite her reactionary words, the Lupine pitched forward, her death-like grip on her chair's armrests released so that she could catch herself with open palms upon the control panel in front of her. Barely opened eyes searched out the shield modulation sliders, and ponderously reached out, slapping a hand down at the last instant to draw each tab downward.

The readout screen on the center console flashed as the shuttle's shield generators flared into life, concentrating their protective screens aft.

"I... " There was a worrisome pause before she went on, her voice a strange tumbling mix of sureness and drunken slurring, "... I think I'm going to be sick."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Well find a sick bag or kindly swallow it."

Wygraant didn't have the patience to hold a greenhorn's hand, even if that greenhorn was somehow a seasoned enemy starship commander in her own right. Of course, negotiating air and space in a fighter or shuttle wasn't nearly the sort of experience one had in a capital ship, but Rolth expected that the incremental mastery of platforms that the Imperial Navy required was also the same kind of command track employed by the alliance.

It seems he was mistaken.

A fresh alert from the shuttle's sensor suite got Wygraant's attention, and he flicked a toggle to kill a sudden alarm.

"Enemy fighters approaching at one five six, two zero three."

He glanced to his copilot to make sure she understood. He wasn't certain she did.

"From behind, roughly. Looks like twenty kilometers out, should be on us in less than a minute."

They were picking up atmosphere, leaving behind the ground below which dissipated into purple mist and the occasional luminescent mark of the native flora.

"All I can do is stand on the throttle and buy us time."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Of all the undignified positions to be in, it was this one. She had thought that her medicine was in the shoulder pack, but no manner of frantic scrabbling through the leather depths yielded what she so desperately needed.

Instead, the Lupine clenched her hands into fists that really did no help at all. Well, not completely unhelpful... but if she wished to make it off this planet then it would do no good to lay out the one man currently piloting the shuttle that was sending them up and into the sky. She had delivered him from capture, and now she grudgingly hoped that he could return the favor in some form.

His voice though was becoming an annoyance, and s'Il turned her head to afford him an incredulous expression. For the moment her flipping stomach was forgotten as she wanted nothing more than to reach over and shake the life out of him. She very nearly gave in to the urge to leave him with the contents of her stomach in her lap.

"Not all of us can empty our stomachs in discreet privacy," came the snapped response as she recalled the night before, and her adherence to the necessary needs of a person wanting peace when engaging in such an undignified act.

The shuttle was buffeted, and bearing the wild motion as best she could, the Lupine snapped off her crashwebbing before lurching upward. Her limbs moved about in ungainly fashion as she did her best to clomp her way free. It was a foolhardy effort, and her gut threatened further to remind her of exactly why she took medicine for shuttle rides. A shaking inhale, and s'Il tamped the feeling down as much as she could, pulling inward of the Force to help shore up her own weakening defenses.

"Keep going up," came the barely intelligible mumble as she stumbled her way over scattered parts and strewn about detritus on her way towards the back of the shuttle.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wrangling the juddering yoke, Rolth glanced back at the skysick Jedi Master, a steely look of understanding on his face.

"I think I have an idea what you're about. Make sure that you strap fast to the cargo webbing before you do it."

The shuttle continued to gain sky, its engines groaning as the purples of Umbaran sky began to bleed into black. The pursuing fighters were nearing weapons range. The shields would hold for a sustained pass, but a second pass probably wasn't in their cards. This had one chance to work.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She only half-registered his words; there was an element of familiarity to all of this, and the caution to secure herself was met with a grimace. Of course she knew to do such a thing - she was not so wholly new to the concept of what she planned to do... only difference was there was a rapidly approaching vacuum of space to contend with.

As it was, the Lupine growled out an angry sound. It was somewhat garbled with the pain still coursing through her body, and she stumbled more than once as she made her way aft. One hand pressed firmly against the cauterized flesh on her side, pushing into the fabric of her undershirt and impotently trying to stem, the lancing stabs that fired through her nerves. Gasped breathing, coupled with a strange sort of clenching jaw to keep back the threatening bile rising in her throat... it was all a multi-front defense against the outside forces trying to overtake her.

She lurched through the doorway leading from the cockpit to the neck of the shuttle, and further still into the main body.

Blinking furiously, s'Il let her eyes sweep over the useless-seeming crates littering the crew hold. Each one was a potential key to freedom, and the Lupine stumbled onward.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The shaking was beginning to subside, which was an ambivalent development. It meant it would be easier to accelerate as they skimmed the thin remnants of umbara's atmosphere, but the same air and gravity that was relenting to smooth their flight would also make s'Ilancy's task more difficult.

Fortunately, the Captain had little time to dwell on that thought before the shuttle rocked again. This time from blaster fire. Keeping his attention forward, he couldn't help but take stock of the diminishing readout on his HUD showing the rear shield weakening with each connecting strike. The Umbaran fighters were closing in. When they were close enough not to miss at all, they'd be close enough for s'Ilancy.

Seventy percent.

Fifty five.

Thirty one.

A macabre thought took hold of Wygraant. What if their shields collapsed and a well-placed shot took out their engines? Not quite out of Umbara's gravity. What a splendidly dreadful way to die.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A mostly empty cargo container was shoved forward, and the Lupine laid both hands upon its' rough exterior as she gave more of a concerted push against it. It scraped along the decking, bumping over scattered bits and pieces of junk that still littered all around. She focused on the task at hand in an effort to quell the pain of her wounds and the insurrection of her stomach. A grunt as the shuttle bucked beneath her, and she stumbled as her leg gave way. Determination drove her onward, and with an angry growl she bulled onward until the crate was just at the edge of where the boarding ramp would separate itself from the rest of the ship.

One more push sent the crate forward to sit squarely on the ramp's edge.

With no time to regain strength, s'Il lurched her way to the threshold of where the shuttle's body met the cockpit. One hand reached out to wind itself into a tangled mess of bulkhead webbing normally meant to secure smaller pieces of luggage.

And for a split second she stood like some macabre marionette, lashed to the bulkhead by a single arm, her shoulders heaving in exertion.

Eyes closed, she reached out through the invisible aether around them. Her head bowed in effort as unseen hands reached out from the shuttle; tendrils of outer awareness searching all around. The Umbaran fighters were easy enough to spot, and her focus shifted to the pilots. Seasoned men with no love for the outside galaxy... a sentiment she found herself understanding. But, escape was necessary regardless, and s'Il scowled as her free hand flexed. The fighter on the left... she focused on him. Her own mind washed over his, and she felt a soft connection that gave rooted confirmation.

A mumbled word of warning tumbled from her lips...

"... Hold on... "

... and her free hand clenched into a resolute fist seconds before slamming through the panel of glass protecting the boarding ramp's emergency release lever.

She gripped the t-handle with a bloody hand.

"Gonna get a bit windy... "

And then the handle was wrenched down.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth had steeled himself for the effect of explosive decompression. A sudden forward lurch. Instability in lateral stabilizers. Moments of unresponsive flight surfaces. Then his ears popped, stuffing the lion's share of the BOOM into cotton as the Captain let his breath out in a wheeze. That was a lesson he'd remembered early on - back when Zero Gee training was on the cadet's docket. In the event of a decompression event, you never wanted to hold onto a full breath of air. The change in pressure would - among other things - cause the tissue of the lungs to burst if they were held to capacity. Wygraant relinquished half his breath before nearly biting down on his lower lip. Riding a cushion of expelled cabin atmosphere along with their engines, he could do nothing other than await stable flight, and hope desperately that the cargo containers spilling out the back of the ship did their intended work.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Even when expected, explosive decompression was something that never failed to jolt the body. She gripped the wall webbing with a white-knuckled fist, baring her teeth as she let out half the air in her lungs. She'd made the mistake once - a long time ago - of holding in as much air as she could - and it'd ended up in a painful bedrest for a week with both Zem and Dan hovering over her constantly. She had wanted to do nothing more than die in those eternal seven days. Afterwards, Zem had explained why she'd hurt herself so badly by not expelling her breath, and it was a bit of knowledge that she'd held close.

Not that being present for decompression was a common occurrence, but it was an eventual inevitability.

The memory made her heart ache in longing, but the Lupine swiftly pushed it aside as her thoughts spilled from the shuttle as swiftly as the crates - and anything else not bolted down.

Eyes clamped shut, it was like watching points of light dance away from you, and with unseen hands she swatted each one onto the paths that she wanted. On trajectories that put them in the way of the oncoming fighters, s'Il pushed herself further, and her free hand came up, arm outstretched as she concentrated. She could see the Umbaran ships, and their sudden attempts to dodge. Everything in her mind's eye was scrutinized and gauged, given brief thought.

One of the crates slammed into the lead fighter, obliterating the energy field surrounding the cockpit and the pilot within, sending the entire thing stuttering back for a fraction of a second before another explosion kicked it back and into the path of the second.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The softness in the yoke evened out, leaving Wygraant to the solitude enforced by the howling of the thin trace of atmosphere they still had to escape. He could shout to the back to ask, but she'd never hear him. Besides, his instruments told him what he needed to know. Two contacts a second ago. Now, none. Feeling the sharp chill in his fingers, Rolth engaged hatch control from the cockpit. With a groan, the cargo doors drew shut again, leaving the Captain a moment to catch his steaming breath.

Ahead lay space. Serene, deep, and carrying the promise of escape.

Wygraant looked over his shoulder.

There was always another enemy.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A hand clutched the webbing, forearm still tangled through the nylon strapping. But the body it belong to had sagged, and the Lupine was on her knees, head bowed as she felt the last reserves she'd held seeping away. Her entire being had been sapped of strength. She was like a doll, unable to move under her own power.

Her side burned, sending lancing stings throughout the rest of her... her leg had gone numb... her shoulder felt as though the arm itself had been ripped from its' socket. Everything felt broken. Even her mind had retreated slowly, losing its' hold on rational thinking in the attempt to simply regroup. Breaths came out in a shallow, quick pace before settling into longer, deeper inhalations, and s'Il closed her eyes as she felt herself slump against the bulkhead.

There was a final shudder as the shuttle left Umbara's atmosphere - a sign of escape, yet a herald of something exactly the opposite. She did not turn to look at Wygraant, and instead settled for releasing her hold on the straps. A few moments of resistance, then her arm slipped free to fall the remaining short distance to the decking with the rest of her.

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain unstrapped his crash webbing, but didn't yet get up from his seat. He glanced back to the aft compartment, catching a glimpse of s'Ilancy's prone figure. Closer to his seat, Wygraant noted the captured Umbaran rifle secured in the cockpit's stowage. He considered his options. Run - with a hyperdrive that may need extensive work to function. Call for help - which held just as much chance of bringing the Alliance as it did the Empire - probably moreso since they were beyond the wire.

He looked back at the Jedi. She'd been pushed to her limit, saving the day with a valiant effort. Even across the gulf as they stood, he could respect that. But respect didn't change who they were and what each of them represented. Wygraant let out a long breath, then reached for the rifle. He tabbed the weapon's setting to stun, and headed to the rear of the ship.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

On her side, she could hear the last few jostlings of disturbed straps and buckles, as well as the settling of cargo that hadn't made it through the once-open doorway into thin atmosphere. She could hear the snap of a harness being undone, and the shuffling of something being picked up.

Footsteps.

There was no need to look; no need to turn over or roll onto her back.

Instead, half-lidded eyes saw only her children. Teagan smiling and reaching for her, and Markos held in Zem's arms, a wide smile with a few teeth showing. The Lupine couldn't help the smile as she weakly lifted an arm in the hopes of running tired fingers over her daughter's face.

And yet, her grasp passed through the illusion of her mind, and s'Il let her faltering smile slowly fall.

The footsteps stopped, and with an effort, she shifted. On her back, she found herself confronted with what she had known would happen. The rifle, the staid expression on his face... and her own expression radiated pain. In her heart of hearts, she had done all that she could to cast away the mantle of 'monster' that Wygraant seemed to throw over any and all Force users. She had pushed herself to the brink and beyond in the hopes that he would somehow see past that simple statement he had made the day previous. And yet...

"I'm not a monster," her whispered words cut the air between them.

"... are you?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

There was a tinge of regret in Wygraant's eyes. Regret that it had to end this way. Was this why he'd tried to get the fighter working? Beyond the necessities of escape, but of what would inevitably happen afterward? That they'd arrive at this very moment, separated by the gulf rushing in to fill the void.

"I'm not certain it matters anymore." He frowned, looking down at his rifle.

"Those of us who aren't monsters only find ourselves in a monster's employ."

Failure's cost was expensive, and Wygraant knew full well who he'd owe for it.

"I wish I could give my assurance that you would be handled decently, Captain. You deserve that."

He sighted down the weapon, a part of him fearful that maybe he'd said too much - given the Jedi too much room and warning. But he'd said what he had to, and everything he could. There wasn't anything else he could offer Loklorien s'Ilancy.

Before Wygraant could pull the trigger, a proximity alert sounded from the cockpit. Rolth's head pulled away from the rifle's cheek weld. He took two cautious steps back, then made for the cockpit.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a moment that had seemed frozen in time, and s'Il stared up at the barrel of the rifle. His words were little comfort, and the Lupine clenched her jaw, tendons cording as her eyes shut tight, waiting for the blast to splash over her.

Except... that it didn't. Rather, the insistent alarm that now came from the cockpit had called Wygraant away, and he mercifully left her to lay in her own pain. She felt lost, her body draining the last of her reserves; she would need food soon, otherwise her metabolism would turn inward. Her thoughts became a jumbled mess as all of her attentions shifted to controlling and commanding her body. Her shoulder pack still lay in the cockpit, and held within were the few ration bars she'd managed to pack away.

But there was another realization that fell around her with grim finality.

She knew as a fact, that she was going to Coruscant. And going to Coruscant meant that she would never leave; indeed there was the very real and terrible possibility she would not be permitted to exist within the rest of those in the living world once there.

She would never see her family again.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

* * *


Wide eyes stared out into the space before them, outside the viewscreen. She stood still, not sure if moving might break whatever spell she felt she was under right now. Her stomach and the rest of her body were feeling much better, but there were still lingering traces that she didn't want to anger, and so Teagan merely stood, blinking occasionally.

The ship that they were now approaching was the strangest thing she'd ever seen in her life. It... it had a happy face? Where the bridge was supposed to be?

Finally the spell was broken when the grizzled captain let out a grunt about old 'spacejunk shuttles that should've been retired decades ago'.

Turning back to look at first Kaie, the Zem, she pulled an odd face.

"Did the old shuttles all look like that?"

[Zem Vymes]

"Not all of them." Zem commented, leaning forward to get a glimpse of the ship in view.

"Thats an Eta class. It's an old transport shuttle from the Clone Wars."

And it was in rough shape. Even without the readouts, Zem could see that much. The power levels were flagging, and there was enough carbon scoring on the hull to speak to a shoot-out.

Zem closed his eyes. He could feel Loklorien's presence, but her vitality was weak.

"Signal the ship."

[Kaie]

Seated in a small chair in the galley, Kaie finally pushed herself up curious at what the younger girl was looking at. Green eyes fixed on the oddly shaped vessel that they neared as she stepped to Teagan's right. About to comment, she glanced at Zem as he did instead, unsure of the class that he mentioned. Whatever it was, the ship was in bad shape. Turning her gaze back to the vessel, the copilot then tapped several buttons.

"Roxon, this is Umbaru, do you copy?" He waited for several moments before attempting the call again.

Eyeing the sensor suite, the pilot shook his head. "That thing's about to fall apart," he pointed to a readout that meant nothing to Kaie. "See this? It's amazing they got that thing this far."

Kaie's concern only grew knowing that Teagan's mother could be aboard that relic of a ship. "We have to help them."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Her lips pursed in thought, and Teagan gave a look to the two Jedi Masters.

"Why signal them?" There was the slightest tinge of impatience in her voice.

"Can't we just dock with them?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

The audio crackled to life in response to the initial hail.

"This is Roxon. I read you, Umbaru."

Wygraant stared across the void at the ship that initiated the hail. It wasn't Imperial, of course, but likewise it didn't appear to sport the liveries of the Alliance Navy. That meant little, of course. The former Rebels had all been privateers at some point and never held themselves to the same espirit de corps as the Galactic Empire.

But in more pressing observation, the ship wasn't Umbaran and they were talking instead of firing. All good starting points. Now he just had to determine where to go from here. With a cautious glance back to the cabin, Wygraant turned again to the comm.

"We have sustained heavy damage from Umbaran Security Forces, but critical systems are currently stable."

Try to appear to be less than an immediate emergency, and that might keep curious eyes at bay. For how long, though?

"Are you freelance, Umbaru, or are you privateered?"

[Kaie]

Glancing back to Teagan, the copilot shook his head, "Not sure what or who we're inviting aboard. Better to be safe than sorry," he mentioned, then a reply from the other ship erupted on the comm, gaining the attention of everyone in the cockpit. "Freelance," he replied, glancing to the pilot. "What got you in so much trouble?"

Even Kaie was growing a bit impatient, though she understood the caution as these men didn't have her touch to the Force.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *

In a fit of pain-induced delirium, the Lupine rolled to her side. Wygraant's voice was enough to rouse her from her self-pitying stupor, and she stared at opening to the cockpit for a few moments. Her thoughts vacillated between trying to contain her injuries and coming to terms with her fate. The sobering knowledge that she would be taken to Coruscant, and would never leave. She had so narrowly escaped the last time... the odds of such a thing happening twice was... well, those sorts of things just did not happen.

One arm moved then, and s'Il reached out, fingers coming down to wrap around a web of secured cargo netting. She pulled, but only managed to aggravate her injuries. With a yelp she let go, curling in on herself.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

* * *



Heavy damage. Well, that much was obvious. Looking up to Zem, Teagan bit her lip in frustration. He seemed as unreadable as ever; or rather, she hadn't learned yet to decipher his playbook of 'old man faces'. She guessed that it was the latter.

Her eyes shifted then, and she looked to Master Kaie. The woman looked so serene and sure of herself and the situation, it was enough to make the young Lupine feel a small bit of jealousy. But, at the same time, it caused a wellspring of hope to spring forth.

"We can offer help, right?"

It was what Jedi did, right?

And then a pang; a sharp jab of pain that made her recoil in shock. Leaning into Zem's side, Teagan clenched her eyes shut. Her arms went to her middle even as one of her legs nearly buckled. She felt as though she'd been robbed of everything wonderful.

"It's... it's worse now," she gasped.

[Zem Vymes]

Zem's expression tightened. The crow's feet at his eyes deepened as he winced, feeling what Lok - and in turn, Teagan - were feeling. His hands tensed into fists, relaxing, then tensed again. He cut his eyes to Kaie.

"We need to board them. Now."

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Freelance," he replied, glancing to the pilot. "What got you in so much trouble?"

"It turns out," Rolth replied with a grimace "the Umbarans don't exactly care for visitors. Learned that the hard way, I'm afraid. Do you have a tractor array? I wouldn't mind a bit of assistance getting to a friendly port."

As he talked, Wygraant browsed feverishly through star charts. Something nice and unaligned in the neutral demarcation would do. They weren't too far within Alliance space for that to be an unreasonable request.

"Transmitting coordinates now."

[Kaie]

Green eyes glanced to Teagan as she also felt the faint eruption of pain that caused the Force sensitive girl to wince. The connection with her mother was keeping all of them in tune with the elder Force user's condition and Kaie knew they couldn't delay any longer. Her gaze then shot to Zem and she nodded, then returned her attention to the copilot now in contact with the Freelance. "We need to draw them in and board. There's someone on that ship that we have to assist and time's running out."

A command that the non-sensitive crew couldn't argue as the communications operator's eyes rose to her and then he nodded. "Freelance, copy that. Commencing with the tractor beam now," he informed, then activated the controls for the unseen projector.

Kaie turned her attention now to Teagan and she took her right hand, focusing her energies now into helping the younger girl ease the effects from her mother's pain that was being transmitted and shared. Calming herself as well, the white witch expressed her next idea to Zem as she worked to heal Teagan. "You should go to the docking collar and prepare to board that ship. I can't help you with any information on the pilot, but we have to get to Teagan's mother as soon as possible."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Letting go of Zem, the young Lupine very nearly clung to Master Kaie as the older woman took her hand in a strong, soothing grip. The sharp pains she felt seemed to abate, if only for the moment, but the lessening was enough to allow her to suck in a deep lungful of air. Calming waves, gentle emotions. Everything that Master Kaie had instructed her to do before she did once again, now. It was a small help, and something she held tightly. Teagan let out her breath carefully, narrowed eyes casting from the sight of the battered shuttle and back to Kaie. Slender fingers gripped the healer's own hand with determination.

"I... I want to go to," she interjected weakly.

[Zem Vymes]

Zem nodded sternly to Kaie, already turning toward the door.

"Just keep me updated if anything changes on that ship."

The Jedi Master reached to his belt for his lightsaber, but paused. He thought better of it, slowly easing his hand back to his side. At the timid sound of Teagan's voice, he turned back sharply.

"No. Stay inside the ship."

It was terse, but so was the situation. There were emotions at play here, and Zem sensed that it wasn't just mother and daughter, but the presence on the other side of the divide, and also himself.

This was no time to court danger.

A soft thump sounded through the compartment, and Zem braced as his body weight shifted. They'd docked.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *

There was a moment that she thought the shuttle shook, but it was brushed away as a rattling breath creaked out, and her body fell still. Shallow breaths; in, out. In, out. It was enough to focus on her own body's first stages of healing - to try and think ahead, to the inevitability of what would no doubt be a miserable existence in the hold of the Empire... one thing at a time. Her skin, hot to the touch, had become deathly pale as beads of sweat coalesced into a glossy sheen across her brow. It was always painful, this whole cursed process.

Whatever Captain Wygraant was doing, and whoever he was talking with, no longer held meaning. It was only a matter of time, now.

Another shallow inhale.

At least she had showered both Teagan and Markos with love the last time she had seen them.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Wygraant felt the contact as well, whirling back in his seat with concern in his expression. He stole a glance at s'Ilancy and the state of torpor she inhabited, then immediately returned to the comm.

"Freelancer, I said tractor beam service, not a docking. Please disegage. My ship's venting systems are frozen, and there's a radiation threat until I can purge them."

A lie out of expedience. He definitely didn't need the trouble of extra eyes snooping where they shouldn't.

[Kaie]

Kaie did her best to help Teagan until their docking collar was open to the other ship, then she heard the reply from the other vessel. Something felt odd about that story and the Jedi was beginning to suspect that Teagan's mother might actually be a prisoner instead of a fellow escapee. Green eyes glanced up to the copilot who began a scan with their sensors and soon confirmed what she feared as he turned to the pilot.

"He's lying." Turning back to the sensor suite, he continued watching the vessel as Zem reached the hallway. "Master Zem, use the manual release to open it up. He's stalling, so be careful."

Kaie remained with Teagan and she helped move her to a nearby seat, at the end of a half circular booth. "Relax as best as you can," the healer said, kneeling next to her charge. "I'm going to heal your mother, so this will be over soon."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem nodded without a word. He could similarly feel piqued emotion, hidden smartly behind the words from the other ship. It concerned him for one principal reason - people with few options at their disposal had so very little to lose.

There wasn't much time to quibble with the pilot over the matter. Zem tried the hatch seal controls, then the manual release. Both were locked out. There was always the lightsaber in his hands, but this had to be the last resort. A Jedi did not choose the quick and easy path. Very seldom did that way lead to wisdom.

Zem turned his senses to the door itself, placing a hand against the frigid cool of the outer door. Just beyond, he could sense the workings. The seals, the levers, the insulation. There was poetry to this hidden understanding. It would take a great force to wrench a door like this free, or the smallest of pins to depress in the right sequence.

c-cha-lack

The air hissed at the periphery, blowing warm from the other side of the divide. Master Vymes quickly pushed the unlocked hatch aside.

"Loklorien!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A name called as though it was shouted from the end of an impossibly long corridor. It echoed faintly in her ears, and the Lupine stirred, letting out a weak groan as she pulled a hand across the pitted decking, a palm moving haltingly over the diamond-studded steal plates. It was her name, that much she could tell, but it wasn't Wygraant's voice that her memory was registering. Rather, it was a gravelly intonation that triggered muscle memory and regret. Her teeth bared, and she inwardly cursed her thoughts for causing her to hear the voice of Zem Vymes. Another trick of the mind, of a subconscious that was desperate to shut out the truth.

But, still...

One eye opened slowly as she angle her head from its' position on the deck to watch as the airlock was pried open by an unseen body on the other side.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"That's far enough."

Captain Wygraant sat in the cockpit, his seat pivoted back to face Vymes fully. The blaster rifle was propped across his knees, but not currently pointed at either the Jedi or his prisoner.

"This rifle may be useless against a Jedi, but it can still breech the hull with sustained fire. I don't want that."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

* * *

It was so acute and raw and vivid. Even though she now knew that nothing was wrong with her, the pain still felt all too real, and Teagan pulled in long breaths before letting them back out again, focusing her mind on the Force and better thoughts... anything but what was going on on the other side of the airlock. Memories haunted her, causing her to bite her lip in worry and nervous anticipation. A look to Master Kaie, and the girl couldn't help but put a voice to her feelings.

"The last time this happened," a cough, then she continued.

"... it was so bad. Zem wouldn't let me see her then, either."

[Kaie]

Hearing the background noise as Zem opened the docking collar door, Kaie remained focused on the young girl knowing right now if she and her mother had such a tight bond, that perhaps keeping Teagan calm might also translate to her mother as well. Grinning sympathetically, the white witch also understood that the older master would want to save Teagan from the pain of seeing a loved one in pain. She understood that sentiment all too well.

Muffled tones from the open entryway reached Kaie's ears as well, a male threatening to fire and kill them all. That would not do either.

Rising, "Stay here," she directed and turned, then headed for the long tube, it's confines not pleasant to anyone that was claustrophobic. Moving in behind Zem, Kaie opened her mind and spirit to those beyond her sight and soon found two individuals. One to the far left and in the cockpit, another closer and in obvious pain. Arcing her face around Zem's right shoulder, the Jedi Master made eye contact with the older pilot.
"No one wishes that, but my main concern is for the woman. You know that Master Zem's abilities can draw her out if he needs to which leaves only you dying here today. I'd prefer to avoid that as well, but it's up to you." Preparing herself as well, Kaie then reached out with her unseen hands, using the Force to wrap up Teagan's mother and prepare to telekenetically draw her out should it come to that.

[Zem Vymes]

Zem nodded along to Kaie's words, keeping eye contact with the man in the cockpit. He did not reach for his weapon, and when he spoke, he showed an open hand.

"Nobody has to come to any harm today. Not s'Ilancy, and not you. Put the weapon down. We can talk without it."

He could feel the disorientation of Teagan's concern, tucked out of sight in the ship behind. Had it been a mistake to bring her?

[Rolth Wygraant]

"I'd prefer to keep it, if it's all the same to you."

Wygraant spoke in a non-provocative way, maintaining a gentleman's poise.

"I want you to know, I had no part in this. What you see, the people of Umbara did this."

His eyes traveled to the prone Lupine, and he averted them back up to Zem.

"We made our escape from that place together."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With one eye cracked open, she tried to process the hazy images she was seeing. Her mind seemed to trip over itself in a muddled attempt at explaining away the sight of Zem Vymes. She was in her own memories, in her own thoughts, and the result was a vision that gave hollow promises of salvation. The sound of his voice was some sort of auditory trickery, and with a barely-heard groan of defeat, the Lupine let her eye close once more.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

* *


She slid from the bench, making sure to stay quiet as she did so, and steeling herself Teagan crept forward on her toes. She bit her lip as her concentration focused, and moving in a wide arc, the girl stood as far from the hatch as possible while still being able to see through it. With her back to the bulkhead, she did her best to see what was happening. Master Kaie and Zem had their backs to her, both standing just on the other side of the hatch. There was a voice speaking that she'd never heard before, but her eyes wasted no time in trying to peer around bodies that weren't transparent.

Her eyes drifted then, trying to pick apart what she could - a corner of a cargo crate, a bit of hanging sercuriweb along the far bulkhead, it all looked like a normal shuttle, and she craned her neck while leaning slightly forward to try and get a better look.

[Kaie]

Seemingly peaceful, Kaie chanced a step out from the access door toward s'Ilancy and as she turned to face the pilot, she noticed a smaller shadow in the tubeway, though ignored Teagan for now as her main concern was the ailing and wounded female on the floor. "I need to see to her," green eyes motioned to the blonde not far from her now. "She's in great pain and time is of the essence."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem nodded at Kaie's words, meeting Captain Wygraant's eyes as he did.

"She's a healer. Please."

The Jedi Master gestured to s'Ilancy on the ground.

"It does you no favors if she dies."

[Rolth Wygraant]

After weighing his options, Rolth offered a small nod. He gestured vaguely with the muzzle of his rifle.

"Treat her here. Where I can see all three of you."

A thought entered the Captain's mind.

"How many others are there?"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

The strange voice again, this time asking a question that made her eyes stop their searching.

Still well out of the line of anyone's sight, Teagan watched from afar as Master Kaie disappeared into the other shuttle. Zem stayed mostly where he already was, talking with the other shuttle's... pilot? It didn't really matter. Pressing her back once more against the far bulkheads, the young Lupine found herself sliding down to half-sit, half-crouch, and before long her arms moved to wrap around her knees as she bit her lip. Patience was one of those lessons that was injected into every bit of her teaching back on Ossus; it didn't matter the subject. Patience and calm. Patience and meditation. Patience and peace. Patience and... well... everything else. It had become such a facet that without thinking Teagan let herself sink into a well of quiet patience.

Whatever happened next she couldn't really know, but she could hope.

[Kaie]

Opening herself to the Force, Kaie immediately moved to the wounded blonde and began assessing her wounds, which there were many. In the Force, the most grievous glowing hotter than the others, guiding her efforts to then begin the healing process. Extending her tanned hands over the damaged areas, the white witch tried her best to also calm her new patient, knowing too well the bond that her daughter and she shared.

"Just relax," the almost ethereal tone emanated from Kaie's aura. "You're safe now."

Disregarding the energies that it claimed, Kaie poured all of herself into healing the woman whose nature wasn't totally human. Still, she was Kaie's patient and as her bluish-white energy cooled and healed, the Jedi Master treated the woman as such. Tending to the internal injuries, Kaie then moved to the broken bones and lighter damage, ignoring time and all else going on around her. Protection of the healer would now be the task of the Jedi Master behind her and those on the freighter that brought them here.

[Zem Vymes]

"Just one pilot and one passenger." Vymes reassured, keeping an even voice.

"No one is going to harm you. We just want Captain s'Ilancy back with us safely."

The Jedi Master chanced another step foward, lowering his hand slightly.

"What can we do to make that happen?"

[Rolth Wygraant]

Captain Wygraant diverted his eyes from the man in front of him, if only for a moment. He could tell in a glance that she was lending Captain s'Ilancy aid, though he didn't see any medical kit on hand. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. No doubt another Jedi.

"You could always set course for Imperial space and safely deliver me to the nearest star port."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

There were some things that she'd become aware of and knowledgeable of during her time on Ossus, and the concept of 'Imperial Space' was on the top of that list. There was always an unspoken, nebulous feeling that she got growing up about some places not being good or places that they weren't to go, but after living with her parents aboard Dauntless and then on Ossus, that vague notion had become razor sharp, defined by those around her. Imperial Space was where they couldn't go.

Still biting her lip, Teagan felt her breath catch in her throat as she wondered if such a request would be granted. It sounded... unsafe.

But, it also told her that the voice belonging to the man she couldn't see was Imperial. Or at least was an Imperial citizen. There was no way to tell with her eyes, but curiosity drove her to choose alternative methods, and the young Lupine closed her eyes as she gingerly let her awareness push out. It felt clumsy and teetering, to do such a thing, but her lack of focused practice was not enough to stop her from trying to divine the nature of the stranger on the other side. Invisible fingertips spread forward, past where Zem stood until they came to a strange feeling; a mind that felt... smooth? No, not entirely smooth, but it was more collected and felt different; closed away and frustrated.

She wanted to know more, but the limits of her abilities kept her from venturing any farther, and with healthy disappointment she pulled her thoughts away.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

* * *

It was a strangely comforting wave of warmth that washed over her, and even though there was no real way that she could adequately focus on the origin of the feeling, she could at least understand its' intent, and the Lupine latched onto the probing, unseen thoughts that sought to repair what damage there was. She could not understand the why or how of it all, but she knew to hold fast and save confusion for a later time. Roiling in her own maddened state, s'Il felt the muscles of her back tense, and her spine arched as a booted foot planted itself firmly against the bulkhead with a solid thud.

And hand reached out, fingers splayed open and searching. They found a wrist; narrow and almost delicate-seeming, and she gripped it instinctively.

Stuttering breaths began to slowly level out, and eyes snapped open to cast a broken, white and blue gaze up to a face she did not recognize.

[Kaie]

The grip on her wrist was a surprise, though the Force allowed the Jedi healer to continue her task of tending to the damage done. Soon, the lightest wounds were now safely healed, though the bruising and mental recollection of what had been done would take a totally different type of attention. Easing her touch to the energies flowing through her, Kaie soon opened her eyes and glanced to her patient, her motherly grin learned from her own small family's matron.

"You're going to need some rest, but the injuries are tended to," Kaie explained calmly. "Your daughter's here," green eyes motioned behind her as the white witch turned her head back to the access tunnel. "She's been worried about you."

[Zem Vymes]

"You can understand why we're nervous about doing that sort of thing."

Zem considered a compromise option. Before he could, there was a sure sign of life in the right direction. Lok grasped the white witch's hand and opened her eyes. It was enough to buoy the Jedi Master's spirits. Maybe she'd even be lucid enough to offer up her own insights and perspectives. They could certainly use them in this moment.

[Rolth Wygraant]

"Her daughter?"

Wygraant looked fro Lok, to Kaie, then to Zem.

"Her daughter is the passenger? You brought a child here?"

It changed the calculus somewhat. It certainly made his hold card a lot less palatable.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

The conversation somehow had turned to... her. It was enough to cause a worried expression to fall over her features, and Teagan felt her brow pinch in uncertainty. Was she not really supposed to be here? Zem had made certain that she come with himself and Master Kaie, and it wasn't like she'd never been in bad situations or danger...

The worry evaporated in that moment as resolve pumped into her nerves.

She was capable enough, else she wouldn't be here.

Slowly, the young Lupine rose to stand. She made no move to step forward though; instead, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The words spoken registered slowly, and her grip on the woman relented, fingers sliding away so that her arm could fall to rest over her torso. She blinked, mind still trying to parse this new turn of events. Zem's voice was unmistakable, and the woman perched over the top of her was a healer. Her body's own metabolism helped by the woman's innate abilities with the Force. It was familiar and different all at once. But, it was Captain Wygraant's words that finished the full translation in her head.

Teagan was here. Now. Why? She was supposed to be on Ossus, safe with the rest of the Jedi.

"I don't..." the words were slow to come, and the elder Lupine couldn't help but expel a tired, low growl from under an exhaled breath. She shifted, jaw clenching as her body did its' best to struggle upward. A mostly failed attempt, leaving her more or less in the same position she'd been in.

"No."

Wygraant still held that damned blaster rifle, she'd noticed that much.

"Send her away," a labored cough punctuated the weak words.

[Kaie]

Kaie moved to help the blonde rise to sit, though she knew the soreness would remain for a while. At least until she was able to get some rest and eat something. Green eyes soon turned to the pilot of the damaged vessel and noticed the rifle still across his lap. There was little else that she could do for her patient beyond helping her leave the ship and get to a bed.

Glancing to Teagan's mother, "What's really going on here? Your daughter and you have a special bond and she guided us to you, and just in time."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem raised a calming hand for the sake of all parties in the room.

"It's true. Lok, she came to me. Every bit of what I sensed, she felt it also."

The Jedi Master glanced to the Imperial, who wasn't keen on hearing any of this. Zem grimaced slightly, bowing his head in deferment.

"These people. They mean a great deal to me. I have no desire to bring them to any risk or harm, and I have no desire to harm you either. We can always find a planet in one of the neutral border systems. We can leave you there in peace. From there, you can contact your people for retrieval."

Zem hoped that bit of compromise might be enticing.

[Rolth Wygraant]

Rolth mulled over the thought, glancing back to Loklorien and Kaie as he did.

"It's a better proposal on its face, Jedi, but I still have no reason to trust you. Do I?"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Voices of everyone now. Of Zem, of Master Kaie. Of the stranger. But it was the familiar voice of her mother that struck her.

Send her away.

It was enough to fire a spark of resentment in her stomach, and Teagan felt a scowl pull down the corners of her lips. Send her away? Her own daughter? It was a sharp stab of wounded feelings that made her step forward then, and the girl moved quietly.

She wasn't a baby anymore; she wasn't even a toddler! She was growing up, and learning so much... sure she hadn't really made her lightsaber yet, but that didn't mean she was helpless!

Slowly she toed her way to the hatchway, and with one hand on the threshold, cast her first look into the damaged shuttle. Her gaze swept past Zem, to the stranger sitting beyond. Blue eyes swept over then to land on Master Kaie and finally her mother.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Helped into a rather slumped sitting position, s'Il leaned forward, as if her body refused to do anything but fold into itself. Her breathing was stuttered, nerves still tender. She forced herself upright once more - or at least as upright as she could manage. An unfocused gaze was sent to the blurred form of... Zem? The voice she heard seemed to confirm that much. He was speaking to Captain Wygraant. Her eye went back to the Healer, and the Lupine frowned as her thoughts continued to parse everything that was happening around her. Had her mind fled her? Was all of this some sort of hallucination? And Teagan... what was this about herself and Teagan sharing a bond? Nothing seemed to fall into place correctly, and in an effort to clear the mental chaff, she gave her head a weak shake.

"We... we escaped the planet together," came her mumbled answer to the Healer's query.

Her jaw clamped shut then, as a trembling hand lifted to her brow, unsure fingers pushing into her temple as if to alleviate the confusion with a simple touch. It was of course a bit more complicated that she had wanted, and lifting her eyes once more, found herself staring at Teagan who now stood in the hatchway.

A sputtered cough, and the Lupine rocked forward as though possessed. She strained against her body's momentary failings while trying to rise to her feet like some undead marionette.

"Go back," an arm lifted, index finger pointing as if trying to scold.

"... back to the other ship."

[Kaie]

Attention more intent on her patient, Kaie heard the pilot's comment and glanced to him as she tried to help s'Ilancy rise and help her to the hired ship. "Had we any evil intent, this would've been over already. Force users don't fear that rifle in your hands, but as I stated before we have no other purpose to being here other than saving this woman and taking her home. As Master Zem mentioned we have no other reason to look for this ship other than that."

Green orbs returned to the blonde as she then sent her daughter away and now wondered why she was sending Teagan away, unless she had dark intentions on the Imperial that Kaie was unaware of. Right arm around the woman's shoulders, she did her best to help the wounded Jedi stabilize herself.

[Zem Vymes]

"We'll all go back to the ship." Zem built upon Lok's words, momentarily glancing back to spy Teagan peeking around the corner. The Jedi Master made a slight staying gesture with his hand, but didn't apply force or ugency to it.

"All of us. Teagan, you, the white witch, myself..."

He glanced back to Wygraant.

"...and the Captain."

Zem patiently held out his hand.

"It must have taken a lot of faith to work with Lok in escaping Umbara. I'm just asking for a little more."

[Rolth Wygraant]

The Captain considered his response carefully. How would he have met it only a few years ago? Would he be more dogmatic and less introspective if he knew Darth Vader was watching over his shoulder? If so, did he think his situation now was so different? Or was he different? With a sympathetic glance to Teagan, Captain Wygraant lowered his rifle to the deck.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

She stood rooted, unwilling to move as her mother had instructed, and with wide eyes Teagan watched her mother struggle to stand, helped by Master Kaie to her feet. It was the first time in her life that she'd seen her mother struggle with anything; the first time that she'd seen her mother standing with anything but a shoulders-back poise. And it was shocking. Oh, she knew that there were a handful of times that Dama had been hurt and in med bays every so often, but to see the damage so raw and undressed was something new and - well - a feeling began to bubble up from her gut. It was... it was scary. She looked like a puppet, held up by not only Master Kaie, but by a mess of strings that didn't seem to mimic posture the right way.

She was aware of Zem, and his staying hand. Moving her gaze from her mother, the young Lupine let her eyes shift to the stranger. He was a captain also? A small errant thought in the back of her mind wondered what sort of ship he captained; was it a smaller ship like the one they'd come here on? Or maybe he piloted one of those fancy cruise liners? It was an idle thought that was shut away quickly as she locked eyes with him. She was aware enough to catch the lowering of his rifle. A half-step back, she maintained her grip on the threshold.