This Message Will Self Destruct

[Wyl Staedtler]

It is a universal truth that children in small spaces will expand in tenacity and ingenuity, a survival tactic employed in the hope that, somehow, this release of excess curiosity will result in a larger playing field. This method has been proven to be largely effective under the right circumstances; any authority figure in their right mind will only be able to endure so many attempts at architectural destruction and then it is simply a waiting game (the soundtrack of which is generally The Neverending Song) before the malicious miscreants are banished to the outside world. Which is, of course, exactly what they wanted in the first place.

But on a ship, there are only so many places to go.

Which was what had brought Pilot and his wife, the keenly intelligent Fang, to this small, neglected corridor of the Whaladon in the first place. They were using their code names in keeping with the mood of building anxiety that hung around them like a cloak, small faces painted with a solemn dread that made hard determination shine from the depths of their eyes.

"I think it's clear," Wyl whispered, risking a glance out into the main passageway. His heart gave a sick thump. They didn't have much time and everything depended on staying calm - and whether or not the schematics he'd managed to lay hold of were accurate. Because on a ship, there were only so many places to go... unless you made more .

The boy took as even a breath as he could, bracing himself for the task at hand. He glanced at his fellow fugitive. " "Did you remember to bring the servodriver?"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Her face, like her husband's, was the picture of seriousness and complete concentration rooted in the knowledge that their time was short and getting shorter by the microsecond. Their window of opportunity was a small one, and their chances for success even smaller. It was now or never, and Fang was ready. It helped that Pilot was on the same brain-length, and that meant their coordinating efforts were perfect anyways.

She dug into the toolbelt she'd 'borrowed' from Cirr; well, on him it was a toolbelt - on her it was more of a tool bandolier.

"I got any size you need," she whispered quickly, craning her head up to look at the screwheads that'd need to be swiftly undone. With a furrowed brow and her tongue partially sticking out, the girl gave her best guess in picking the correct servodriver size. She held it up dramatically, studying the tip for only a few precious moments before handing it to Pilot.

"That should do it."

[Wyl Staedtler]

It was moments like these, when years of training and studying slotted together with experience and the sort of knowledgeable companion one could depend on that Wyl lived for. Liberation was bred from competence and today didn't look good for the competition: they weren't going down, not without a fight.

"Boost," Wyl tucked the tool into the belt around his waist and reached up to catch hold of the emergency breath mask, mounted in a sealed case halfway up the paneled wall. With Tak's added push against the sole of his boot and a determined pull he was vaulted ceilingward, elbows catching on the flat top of the case. It took a moment for the rest of him to catch up while he carefully edged to center. There was very little space to work with and Wyl had to move carefully, pull one knee up with deliberate slowness and then ease to an upright crouch, hands flat against the wall for traction, before bringing the other along.

But once he was there, secured as best as was possible, he got right to work. Tak had a good eye - the servodriver slotted over the first corner screw with ease and whined lowly as it began to undo the fastening. The noise echoed hauntingly in the ventilation shaft, the grate of which was being held together by the very bolts they were working to get rid of.

Wyl cupped his hand under the swiveling tool head and bent his body in an attempt to block some of the sound. "Check and see if they've got a mark on us, Fang."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

"On it."

Her voice came out in a hiss, and the little Lupine gave one last upward look to Pilot as he put forth all of his efforts into making sure their agreed upon entrance was opened in as timely (and inscreetly) a fashion as possible. If anyone could do it, Pilot could. He was the one who knew more about machines and speeders and stuff like that anyway, so she let him deal with all that. For her part, Fang was the muscle and the lookout (though Pilot sometimes argued that he was better at the 'muscle' part. Whatever.).

Tiptoeing to the corridor's bend, Fang flattened herself against the wall before creeping the last few feet to the edge. Slowly and without a sound, she leaned over to look upon an empty hall. Empty SO FAR. How long would it stay that way?

She blinked, bit her lip in thought, then finally pulled back to look over her shoulder, up at Pilot. He was still working with the servodriver, and she frowned just enough for him to notice.

"It's clear, but you gotta hurry," she urged.

"We don't got much time."

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Sweetheart, if you think you can make this thing go faster, be my guest," Wyl hissed back, willing the servodriver to turn faster. It's lazy cycles seemed to be reeling in their demise.

The first screw dropped into his waiting palm and Wyl pocketed it. "Listen, Fang. If... if things get busy, I want you to run, okay? I'm a Jedi, my capture will be a political victory and they'll be distracted. It'll give you enough time to make a break for it. Promise me you won't try and do anything stupid."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Taken aback, she stared at the opposite wall for a few intense moments, blinking furiously as her brain worked through what Pilot had just said. And, like she'd seen her mother do so many times previous, the girl folded her arms across her chest, stuck one hip out, and fixed her husband with a withering glare.

"I so will not leave. And 'sides - you're not a Jedi, you're a padawan."

She set her jaw.

"I'm the muscle anyways. S'my job to protect you."

[Wyl Staedtler]

"I am a Jedi and that's the most preposterous - "

Wyl's rebuttal was cut off as his hand slipped from the grate, nearly sending him toppling to the floor. With as much dignity as he could muster, the boy righted himself and shot an impatient look over his shoulder. Most times it was in the best interests of everyone to agree with his wife. But this was life or death and they didn't have the luxury of toying around for the sake of trying to be self-sacrificing.

"Your job is to get those papers to safekeeping," Wyl snapped, moving on to the next bolt. "And anyway, when push comes to shove I'm at a far better advantage in a fight. I'm a man."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

"Winning at 'My Apologies' doesn't count," was the snapped reply before Teagan turned on her heel in a huff, edging back to the corridor's bend to have another look, making sure no one was coming. She heaved a sigh of relief at the all clear, but kept her eyes peeled for a small bit more.

But, her watchful position didn't stop her from finishing with -

"You're a boy."

Couldn't that servodriver work any faster??!

"Hurry uuupp. I don't want anyone finding the big wheel's speeder where we hid it."

[Wyl Staedtler]

Oh, now she was just being petty. There were better times for a marital spat than in the middle of a daring undercover op but beggars couldn't be choosers and he certainly wasn't going to let her get away with insulting his male ego so blatantly.

"Listen here, furball," Wyl started, arm gesticulating wildly. Unfortunately he underestimated the demonstrative force of such a maneuver and the servodriver slipped from his grasp, landing with a damning clatter on the floor below.

"Now look what you did!"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Furball? FURBALL?! FURBALL?!!!

"You listen to me, Wyl Staedtler," she hissed sharply, dropping the use of his codename completely as she moved to scoop up the fallen servodriver.

She lifted the tool up, but instead of handing it to him, she shook it in his direction threateningly.

"I'll let them catch you, and when they do, they'll interrogate you and make you tell them all your secrets, and then they'll court martial you, and then you'll be in trouble with my Dad... "

Another wave of the driver.

"... again!"

[Wyl Staedtler]

The boy's mouth flapped wordlessly in the face of what was undoubtedly a legitimate threat; Tak was not one for idle promises. But the mere fact that she were willing to delve to such treacherous depths of betrayal shocked him into silence. This was his wife, his life partner, his number one. If she couldn't be relied on, who could? Wyl's stomach twisted. He had the uncanny feeling that perhaps his future wasn't as cozily secured as he had presumed.

Even with his objective forgotten, the boy remained in his perch like a rather confused and ill-fated bird. He wasn't stupid: going down when Teagan got like this was suicidal. Even Mace Windu wouldn't have crossed her.

"I think," he finally said, eyes narrowing. "That you're forgetting which one of us navigated through Cloud City all on their own for three entire days. You couldn't double-cross me if you tried, Fang. I've the Force on my side!"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

She rolled her eyes, shrugging her shoulders before tossing up the servodriver. He caught it, but only just barely due to the awkward trajectory and end over end movements of the tool as it floated in the air.

"Well how about you use the Force to get that thing open?"

Her hands found themselves on each hip, feet planted wide and her back arched upward so she could look up at him.

"Now that I got you floofed up enough, maybe we can get in there faster."

Dama had once told her that if she ever wanted Dad to do something faster, all she had to do was insist she could do it better. After that, Dad always worked harder.

Fang hoped this tactic would work on her own husband.

[Wyl Staedtler]

"I'll floof you up," Wyl muttered lowly, starting the agonizing process of angling himself so that he could reach the ventilation shaft. It was an awkward stretch, the remaining bolts all either at the top and requiring him to go on tip-toe or to the adjacent side, which meant propping himself against the loose end of the grate in order to access them. "Bossy, alpha-syndrome... think you know everything... show you how it's done..."

The urgency with which they had been so occupied with was now weighted down by a crackling sense of mutiny, both of them firmly affixed in their positions and convinced that the other was being a stubborn bantha. Which was true, in Tak's case. Fate and fortune seemed to agree with Wyl because presently the last of the bolts came free, little silver curls of durasteel shaving with it. The little knob was passed down to Fang along with the servodriver and then her definitely-a-man-and-also-a-genuine-Jedi-who-was-a-mechanical-genius-thank-you-very-much husband applied himself to prying the grate off.

"Ha!" Wyl barked triumphantly when his firm wriggling finally forced the vertically-planed cover to let go of it's grip. The ventilation shaft was a gaping hole, stale air that smelled of dust and hot rubber gently blowing out. It was just wide enough for a pair of entrepreneurial operatives to shimmy through.

The arched look that was sent Fang's way could have stopped a blaster bolt. "How's that for muscle?"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

The quirky smile she gave him was one that only he was ever graced with. Pilot was the only one who could make Fang smile like that, and completely ignoring his show of bravado, she gestured at him to help her up.

"We don't have much - "

And that was when she heard it. Her head snapped to look at the hallway's corner, and she gave the air a little test-sniff.

Sure enough, that familiar old-home scent of brown Jedi robes trickled into her nostrils, and her eyes grew to the size of saucer-plates. It wouldn't be long now, and she wouldn't have much time at all to climb up.

Frantic, Fang darted forward and up, her jump taking her just high enough to latch desperate fingers onto the edge of Pilot's perch.

"Help me up! Hurry!!" she whispered quickly.

[Abarai Loki]

It had been an unusually long day; between half a dozen training sessions, overseeing the sparring club and avoiding Taataani Meeorrei, Loki was done. There were few things more frustrating than an underperforming padawan, more tiresome than the morning bathroom queue, more relentless than a battalion of stormtroopers, and more enduring than a sarlaac pit monster, but Cirrsseeto's eccentric mother fits the bill. And now having survived this far, Loki had resolved to return to his quarters, wash and change into a clean tunic, and don the family haori for dinner. A last desperate scrabble for routine in a world which was becoming increasingly susceptible to disorder and chaos.

So, it was with a degree of quiet despair he saw a little pair of legs kicking at the air, vanishing into an open ventilation shaft. He paused only to take a calming breath and then, in an instant, he was outside the airduct, and, arms folded, addressed the offending legs in a tone of deathly import.

"I don't know what this is about, but you secured your defeat when you decided to operate outside my quarters."

[Wyl Staedtler]

Given the space that was provided - perhaps two feet in width and a foot-and-a-half in height - and the fact that the duct had never been designed with the intention of serving as a last-response exit for one, let alone multiple persons, there were literally only two options afforded the stealthy pair: they could ignore the infiltrating voice and make a scramble for it, or they could confront the danger and embrace it.

Wyl glanced down at Tak, sprawled on her belly in front of him, and then out toward the square patch of light and made an executive decision. They very probably couldn't combat-crawl at a rate fast enough to secure their safety and only moments before they had gone over this very scenario.

One hand pressing down on Teagan's back, Wyl leaned forward and stuck his head out of the shaft. The boy's face was a blank canvas, just a hint of irritation beginning to shade the forming outline of innocence painted on his features.

And oh, thank the Force. It wasn't anyone dangerous standing there to destroy them - it was just a kid. Certainly he qualified as a Big Kid, and the pinched expression on his face meant that he probably couldn't be drawn over as an ally, but it wasn't as though the quartermaster had discovered their antics and was preparing to have them shot out the airlock.

"Sorry for the disturbance," Wyl gave a laconic shrug, in the unapologetic fashion he'd seen the deck mechanics do when delivering bad news about engine repairs. "Routine maintenance, you know. Won't take long."

The boy's eyes narrowed then and he put a little more emphasis on his next words, tone drawing out in mystical fashion. "Go about your business. This isn't the corridor you're searching for."

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Wyl's hand on her back kept her in place, but never before had she wanted to poke her head out next to her husband's so much. The voice down in the corridor was one she'd never heard before, and the curiosity to see the stranger was hard to supress.

Her eyes darted up to Pilot's.

'Who is it,' she mouthed silently.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki was surprised to see the youngling attempt such an advanced Jedi technique, it was commendable, if rather foolish. His eyebrow lifted in quizzical appraisal of the scruffy airduct-dweller and his unidentified acomplice.

"Padawan, you will find your elementary mind tricks have no power over me."

A curious tilt of the head allowed him to identify the boy's attire as traditional, if rather tatty, Jedi robes. Strange, he thought, that he'd never seen him in any of his practice sessions. He sensed foul play.

"Now, you will cease this flagrant disregard for the rules and climb down from there immediately," Loki considered his words, and made a diplomatic amendment, "If you choose to co-operate I will see to it personally that your punishment will be... fair."

[Wyl Staedtler]

This kid was gold. Never before had Wyl encountered a soul who approached the game with such dedication, who immersed themselves so fully into character, who applied such dignity to their lines. This was going to be the best round of Incognito ever.

Relieved that they were in no danger, Wyl let up on Tak and shrugged in response to her silent query. He had no idea who it was but the boy tugged on the sleeve of his loose garment - ragged from being constantly yanked down over his palms - to indicate that it was a fellow Jedi. Or someone pretending to be a Jedi, possibly, but Wyl was confident about the former; that warm buzz of recognition tickled at the edge of his senses. A quick and eager thumbs up indicated that they were still a go.

"Your offer is compelling," Wyl replied grandly, the statement reverberating in the chambers of the airway. Barely-contained excitement colored his tone, trembling like a wild animal in anticipation of freedom. "But we all know that's not going to happen, 006.

"Or should I say," the boy paused for dramatic effect. "Dr. Nix!"

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Dr. Nix?!

While she had no idea who Dr. Nix was, Wyl had ingrained in her enough of how to conduct herself in these situations that Tak felt herself press even closer to the duct's paneling. Her mouth formed a silent 'Oooo', and after a few moments of thought, squirmed herself forward just enough to poke her head down through the opening.

A cascade of blonde hair preceded dancing eyes and a crooked, mischievous smirk as she gazed down at the undoubtedly evil Dr. Nix. Why, even his scowl looked like an evil doctor's scowl!

"You'll NEVER catch us," came her overly-dramatic declaration,

"... Not this time!"