[i][b]"She may not look like much, but she'll get off the ground."[/b][/i]
[i][b]"... You've got to be joking. This isn't even a ship! Hey, I thought you said this thing would get off the ground!"[/b][/i]
[i][b]"It will- but after that, I'm not making any promises."[/b][/i]
[i]~ Unknown Deck Master to Kyle Katarn[/i]

[i]Okay, [/i]Syrra admitted silently to herself. [i]Maybe Master Skywalker is on to something here.[/i]

She watched from one side of the hangar as one of the adult students of the academy jogged in the direction of a newly-landed shuttle, excitement and joy visible in his features even from this distance- a trio of other figures had just clambered down the landing ramp, catching sight of the student and running in his direction. Cries of joy rang out as the Jedi's mate and two children embraced tightly, drawing smiles from those who had stopped working the docking bay to watch. And as she looked on, Syrra felt the corners of her muzzle lift, watching the reunited family share a moment of emotion with each other.

"Aha! I saw that, Syrra."

She jumped as if a remote droid had fired a bolt at her tail and scored a direct hit, heart racing as she stumbled and caught sight of Garrett, the human grinning at her like a fabled Cheshire. She chuffed, frowning at him as she regained her composure. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Garrett grinned. "Sure you don't. But I still saw you smiling. There [i]is[/i] a fluffy kitten in that stony exterior of yours, isn't there." He sauntered past her, leaning against a nearby dry-docked Y-wing and regarding the family as they chattered in a tongue unknown to either of them. "It's hard not to feel a little warm and fuzzy when you see something that sweet, isn't it."

Syrra glanced at her fellow student, then back to the family, managing a reluctant smile. "Okay... so you're not wrong about that. Maybe it [i]is[/i] good that they have each other."

Garrett arched an eyebrow. "You still don't approve?"

She shrugged in response. "I was told that my grandfather's oldest sister never visited, that he only ever saw him three times in his life, twice as a cub. Attachment in the old Order was not exactly [i]forbidden[/i], where friends are concerned, yet it's a different story for family. Focusing on them the same way civilians would focus on their families, mates or lovers leads to passion. Passion would lead to obsession, a negative quality that could lead to the Dark Side. Love in particular was seen as a dangerous emotion."

Garrett stared at her, a look of mild disbelief on his face. When she noticed he hadn't responded, she turned to him. "You're pulling my chain." When she arched her eyebrow and didn't say anything in response, he frowned. "... No, you're not. But that just sounds ridiculous to me. Why would anyone think [i]love,[/i] of all emotions, is a dangerous thing?"

Syrra shrugged again. "The Jedi of old might have had a point in limiting attachment to other beings- we're meant to serve the galaxy, not those we value more than others." She paused, feeling a slight pang all the same as the student leaned in to kiss his wife sincerely. "But maybe Master Skywalker has a point, if only to remind us that we're like other sentients." She smiled wryly. "Though perhaps there's something to be said of how dangerous 'love' might be when one thinks their mate is cheating on them with another, or when rivalry festers from it."

"Okay, you might have a point [i]there [/i]with a guy coming home too early, catching his wife and breaking out the flechette rifle- but that sounds less like a problem with love and more like a problem with possession," Garrett reasoned. "I figure as long as you bear in mind that you don't own anybody, you're keeping yourself safe from heartbreak."

Syrra said nothing, though inwardly she mulled on this point. After a few moments, she turned to her fellow student. "So did you seek me out for a reason?"

"Well, Master Moarn said that you had a shuttle coming in for you later today to take you home, or something like that." He looked concerned. "I was a bit worried that you might be leaving. I mean, I know you probably think I'm annoying, but I don't mind that- I think you're pretty neat, even if you seem a little... stand-offish."

Syrra blinked. She was ready to correct Garrett on her presence in the hangar, but hadn't expect to hear him express concern or admiration for her. "You... what?" She paused, fumbling for words. "I mean to say... I don't think you're annoying." She looked away, feeling another pang. She wondered if Garrett had spent the last 6 months thinking she hated or distrusted him, and she realized now she truly didn't say much to him. She wondered how she would feel if her patrol partners on Ekibo treated her with a cold silence- true, most of her patrols were silent, but out of pragmatism and discipline, not animosity.

"I just don't really have much to say, I guess. I came here expecting to learn the old ways, not to strike up friendships." She paused, bowing her head. "But... that doesn't excuse me for seeming cold towards a fellow student, and for that I offer my apology. I suppose I simply don't see things the way you do, is a part of it. It's hard to find something to say when you don't see things similarly."

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his face. "I don't expect you to perceive the same way I do. But we can always talk, to get a better understanding of each other. I'm sure that we share a common ground somewhere." He stared out of the hangar, into the wilderness. "Most people think I'm crazy because I love the jungle here. It's not difficult to read the creatures nearby, I did it the first day I came. But I don't think anyone I've met here understands how I feel, what it's like to marvel at the sheer amount of life there is on this moon, feeling what they feel and experiencing what they do. Still, I try to tell them to help them understand."

Syrra flinched slightly- she had not forgotten her disaster of a meditation session weeks earlier. "If it helps... I think I [i]do[/i] understand that a little." She didn't expound on how, resolving to bury that incident away deeply from now on, but it was still an reasonable insight into what he probably felt anytime he wandered through the forests during his free time. "For what it's worth, from someone who admits she doesn't speak often, I don't think you're insane. I think Master Skywalker might have had a point- this is simply [i]your[/i] way to understanding the Force."

Garrett smiled. "That's kind of you to say, and I hope that you do understand what I'm saying."

"Why do you think I'm 'neat', though?" she asked, leaning against the Y-wing with her arms folded.

"It's hard not to think you are. Remember a few months ago, when we we doing lightsaber drills and Battlemaster Katarn said you'd grasped Shii-Cho faster than anyone else there? And they brought out the saber-training droids to practice against the following week and you cut yours down within 5 minutes even though they'd accidentally set your AI's programming to Knight-level?" He grinned. "You're a natural with a lightsaber, anyone could tell that. I bet you have military experience, it would explain a lot about you."

Syrra said nothing immediately, but she did find herself smiling back. "You're not wrong." She returned her attention to the family near the shuttle, watching as the student picked up what seemed to be his youngest child. "I was a Trianii Ranger. It would be more accurate to refer to us as something of a system-wide police force with extensive training and the capacity to arrest and execute- but yes, they are a military of sorts, and training with close-range weaponry like heat-brands and vibroblades is standard. Many patrol the hyperspace lanes of the Trian system, but I served as an on-planet patroller on several of our worlds, mostly Ekibo." She traced a finger along her saber hilt, reminiscing on her younger days. "14 cycles marks the beginning of adulthood to my race, and it's then we are allowed to serve as Rangers if we choose to. I started during my 15th cycle."

"'Cycle?'"

"You and other species may approximate them to 'years'. I started a year later than others, when I expressed to my mother that I would rather not immediately serve as a member of the [i]yu'nar[/i], our government council, a position she had tried grooming me for- I insisted against it, telling her I wouldn't be fit for the job without proving I had the strength to serve our worlds first." She paused. "I'm not big on the spirituality of our culture, which permeates our art, our trade, and even our government policies- but I understood how important it was to honor our culture. Part of that, to me, was proving I had what it took to defend my people before I could even begin setting myself up as a leader for them."

Garrett nodded. "That sounds pretty noble."

Syrra shook her head glancing at him with a dry smile. "It was meant to be. But partly because I'm not as... [i]robust[/i] as most females of my species, I wasn't given an assignment to patrol on the borders near CorpSec territories, where most of our problems lie. My mother, bless her, was more content to keep me close to home on Ekibo. I'll sum up [i]that[/i] assignment by telling you to imagine a Jedi Temple gate guard, except replace the temple with vast farmland, small cities and the stench of herdbeasts every hot day- and you will [i]never[/i] get used to that smell."

"... Okay, that does sound [i]less[/i] noble. But well-intended."

"I appreciate your saying so- even if I personally found it mind-numbingly boring," she added with a sigh.

"So... don't take this the wrong way, but do your people speak Basic as fluently as you? You sound like you've adopted a kind of comfortable Core world speech pattern, with a... slight purring inflection?"

Syrra shook her head. "Not fluently, no. Trianii Rangers tend to deal with a lot of off-worlders and it's necessary for us to speak, read and even write in Galactic Basic. It's actually a hell of a lot easier to learn Basic than the Trianii language- I've heard it often compared to Shyriiwook, which as far as I'm concerned is downright impossible to speak for most of my people."

"How did you learn it?" Garrett asked.

"Basic? It's not difficult- it's actually standard education for all Trianii to learn Basic. But if you meant my accent, I might have unconsciously picked it up during my off-duty hours at the spaceport. Never got many off-worlders, but a lot of them who did come were there for weeks or months."

"You hung around the spaceport for fun?"

"Well it's not as if Ekibo has much else to offer to my own enjoyment, bar the music. But... I did like listening in on stories the off-world visitors would tell at the canteen, bringing news about the Republic and Empire, sometimes old stories about how they once knew a Jedi that lived somewhere in Trianii space. That's where I became aware that a new Jedi Order was being established, and that's why I'm here."

She smiled, feeling far more comfortable now in her fellow student's presence, turning away. "And you? Where do you come from, and what compelled you to join the Praxeum?"

Garrett seemed to turn his attention to the jungle again. "My family was from Alderaan, before it was destroyed."

Her smiled faded almost instantly. "I... I'm sorry. Even those of us so far from the Republic heard of that heartless atrocity."

Garrett shrugged. "I was too young to remember it properly, to be honest, although I grieve for it all the same and pay my respects once a year. But what bits I do remember of the planet were the forest, the animals that roamed around my dad's estate. Most of my family were off-planet when the Empire reduced it to rubble, thank the Force- but sometimes it irks me that we talk about how many human and non-human lives were lost in that attack while forgetting the creatures that shared the planet with us."

He was silent for a few moments. "Have you ever seen an Alderaanian Wolf-Cat?" Syrra shook her head. "And except for holovids and still images, you never will. They're one of many creatures that ceased to exist after the attack. Emperor Palpatine saw to that by having what few off-world Wolf-Cats remained in captivity destroyed, just to pour salt on the gaping wound in the hearts of our planets survivors."

Syrra looked horrified. "That's... unforgivable." She felt cold, feeling a radiating despair from her fellow student. "That's an evil to which little can compare to."

Garrett nodded sadly. "It is. It hurts especially for me because my first experience with the Force, the moment it was clear that I could use it, was with a Wolf-Cat." His gaze became distant as he reminisced on the past. "I talk about of them like they were beautiful creatures, and they really were. They were also highly aggressive and territorial, though clever enough to avoid humans. The sight of a wandering human child having escaped the grasp of his parents, however, didn't bother them as much, so they stalked me for a while before lunging in for a fun-sized meal."

He chuckled. "My parents freaked out, having found me just as the pack was moving in for the kill. This close to succeeding in a hunt that they could easily carry away and finish elsewhere, the pack didn't back off from them. Alderaan as a culture at that time disliked weapons, some to the extent of personal self-defense weapons, so my parents had nothing to drive away the beasts. Even if they did, 6-to-1 odds are never good odds. They got about 3 feet from me... and stopped."

He stretched a bit, looking to Syrra. "The way my parents tell it, I was giggling at the 'big kittydog' and waddling up to the alpha female of the pack, petting its head like it was a loyal hound, like it was the most natural thing in the world for me to do. And rather than eviscerate me, the alpha just nuzzled and licked me as if I were one of her pups. It took my parents a few moments to realize I wasn't going to serve as lunch, and a little longer to realize I was... different, in a good way. From then on, that pack stayed near the estate, more docile and friendly to me and my family than one should reasonably expect from them, always there to watch over the child that had made peace with them." His smile faltered. "Least... until they were wiped out."

Syrra cast her eyes down, unable to find anything to say. When she did, her voice was softer than normal. "I'm sorry to hear that. I can only imagine how... how heartbreaking it must have been for you." She paused, something clicking in the back of her head as she reflected on his story. "When you said [i]most[/i] of your family was off-planet when your home was destroyed... was this what you meant?"

Garrett looked up, smiling sadly. "See? A little bit of discussion, and now you understand me a whole lot more."

They both watched in silence as the family moved out into the open, towards the Temple, Syrra's thoughts wandering to her own family. She couldn't say honestly that she was as close to her parents and siblings as Garrett seemed to be with his, but the attachment he had told of seemed to speak volumes of how wonderful and painful such a thing could be- and she did, at times, miss her homeworld sorely, and at least one family member she was deeply fond of.

"So," Garrett said, looking back to her. "I expect we'll never see each other again, I guess?"

Syrra blinked in confusion. She straightened up as a rush of understanding hit her with the force of a turbolaser. "Huh? Oh! No, no, I'm not actually leaving the Academy." She chuckled a bit. "Though I'm certain whatever Master Moarn told you wasn't inaccurate, either. I [i]am[/i] returning home, but only briefly. My mother contacted the Praxeum with a job request, and specifically asked for my help. The Council gathered and agreed that this would be an excellent opportunity for my first time in the field- solo."

Garrett grinned, clapping her shoulder- to her own surprise, she didn't draw away as she usually did. "Well congratulations then, Syrra! It's good to hear that the Masters here trust your abilities enough to handle things on your own."

Syrra hesitated. "Well... all except ours, anyway."

Garrett frowned. "Master Moarn said no?"

She shrugged. "He thinks it might be too soon for me, and that I might require supervision. I think he just wants to ensure I don't let him down. But he relented in the end. I think he agreed because my familiarity with Ekibo and the Trian system gives me a distinct advantage over other students, and as I'm not [i]technically[/i] a Republic citizen I can claim that I have no outer-system allegiances. Besides, anything I [i]might[/i] screw up wouldn't strain my relationship with the Republic, just the Trian system. And my mother," she added.

"Makes sense," Garrett responded, stretching again and jamming his hands in his pockets. "So when do you leave?"

"Tomorrow. I'm only here because Master Moarn wanted to confer with me on the mission details. Well... that and I need to ask one of the pilots here for a lift tomorrow."

"You don't fly?"

Syrra looked away, chagrined, though she managed a weak smile. "It's the other reason my mother didn't allow me to patrol hyperspace lanes."




"[i]The crystal is the heart of the blade.[/i]"

A small, beautifully cut sapphire floated placidly in the air, suspended as if with an invisible string, unmoving.

"[i]The heart is the crystal of the Jedi.[/i]"

Syrra let out a gentle breath, eyes shut as she concentrated and spoke in a gentle voice.

"[i]The Jedi is the crystal of the Force.[/i]"

From below the suspended jewel, several metal components were lifted into the air gently- among them was a thin cylinder, into which the jewel was secured. It rolled in the air once before slipping into the hollow shaft of a long handle, twisting into the screwed ridges until it was secure.

"[i]The Force is the blade of the heart.[/i]"

The rest of the components drew in together in tandem, slipping into or over each other as her weapon assembled itself before her, forming the rest of her lightsaber.

"[i]All are intertwined: the crystal, the blade, the Jedi. We are one.[/i]"

Her eyes opened slowly, drawn to the weapon still suspended in the air, a wide and warped reflection of herself and her surroundings reflecting from the smooth surface. A figure moved within the reflection.

"You have a gift for that, Padawan."

Syrra jumped at the voice, snapping out of her trance and spinning around, her lightsaber clattering to the hangar floor. The echo of her weapon dropping rang through the nearly empty docking bay as her heart raced, freezing once she saw Master Moarn standing before her, his face predictably impassive and stern.

Syrra stood straight, bowing to the Jedi Master quickly. "Thank you, Master."

"You'll forgive me for taking so long getting back to you, Padawan. There were details that needed ironing out between myself and Master Skywalker, concerning your first unsupervised mission." His eyes flicked towards her lightsaber, still left unattended. "I see you have found a means of centering yourself through meditation, in a fashion that draws upon your strengths. Let us hope you'll put it to considerable use in the field instead of lashing out, as you have in the past."

Syrra stiffened, feeling a burning in her cheeks. "Yes, Master Moarn. I'll be sure to." She bent to retrieve her weapon, hooking it to her belt.

"Have you seen the quartermaster yet, Padawan?"

"Not yet, Master. I thought it might be prudent to wait until I knew the mission details before selecting gear."

Moarn nodded, striding across the hangar and motioning his Padawn to follow. "Very well. Still, make it a point to outline a basic set of gear that you might need, starting with a few days of nutrient capsules, an energy pack, a rebreather and a comlink. In the future it would be best to prepare as if you were leaving one day ahead of schedule- there have been incidents when a mission timetable has been accelerated with little to no notice. During such changes, every second may count."

Syrra nodded obediently. "I see the wisdom in this, Master." She hesitated. "And for weaponry...?"

Moarn's face hardened for a moment, eyes closing briefly as if unwilling to speak on the matter. "I have been instructed to tell you that you may, if you wish, opt to carry a blaster as a backup weapon. Battlemaster Katarn in particular heavily endorses this practice for students who are more used to such... [i]undignified[/i] implements." He stopped and turned to his student. "I will not hide that I do not think highly of the practice, less so for those with moderate lightsaber skill. You have shown yourself to be an exceptional blade handler, far above your peers in terms of swordsmanship. I firmly believe you can do without a blaster. But... it is your choice."

Syrra nodded. "Thank you for you counsel, Master."

The reached the end of a hangar where a lone light freighter was docked. "This will be the vessel you will be using for this mission. I am told you are not capable of piloting a ship, correct?"

The feline Padawan cast her sight down, feeling another burning sensation of shame in her cheeks. "No, Master. I confess that I never learned."

"You will need to rectify that as soon as possible. I expect that your abilities will stagnate if you can't even learn to transport yourself to your own missions- there may well be times when no one else is available to deliver you to your mission." He fixed a stern gaze on Syrra that made her feel uncomfortable, as if silently criticizing her shortcomings- she felt unable to keep herself from folding her ears back in chagrin. "Fortunately, your mission may grant you an opportunity to learn."

Her ears perked back up with interest. "Master?"

"You will, as you have gathered, be sent to Ekibo for a meeting at the Baarok estate. I'm told this is region is familiar to you."

"Yes, Master. Iaora Baarok is my mother's sister, and is an influential voice for the planet's [i]yu'nar[/i], our matriarchal governing body- although she is not technically a member. She spends most of her time as a healer with her mate, Aarn. They run a medical business on Fibuli, as well as a delivery service that distributes affordable pharmaceuticals to low-income civilians throughout the Trian system and CorpSec region." She smiled a bit. "Our family is actually a bit proud of his generosity and willingness to defy the CSA." She caught Moarn's frown and ceased smiling. "Anyway, the Baarok estate and business is technically owned and run by Aarn, by decision of the matriarchs, but while Iaora is technically employed as a financial advisor, it's more of a sort of co-ownership with her mate."

Moarn nodded. "Then it's clear that you are certainly the best suited among the rest of the Padawans for this task, armed with the knowledge you possess. The details of your task will be outlined by your uncle, but the basics of your mission concern the missing ships, personnel and cargo of your uncle's business on Fibuli."

Syrra's eyes widened. "Pirates?"

"We do not know. The shorthand is that your uncle's business started losing crew and shipments around half a year ago with no explanation. He has currently ceased his external-system deliveries until such time the situation is resolved. It only came to his attention after you arrived at the Praxeum, which is likely why you were not aware of his troubles." He gestured to the transport. "You are to go to Ekibo with Captain Lynch on this vessel, the [i]Truly Sorrier[/i], and obtain further details from your kin, then discern the cause of these disappearances. Time permitting, you should take the opportunity to ask him to give you a basic course in avionics and space travel."

"I'll be sure to, Master." He nodded before moving away, and Syrra frowned in confusion. "Umm... i-is that all, Master?"

Moarn regarded the young Trianii critically. "Only that I'm told you may be required to work alongside a mercenary. Take no chances- do not put your trust in any man or woman who seeks to turn any grievance to profit. You'll find mercenaries a necessary evil in the universe, mere wolves waiting for opportunity to sate their greed- trust more in your own abilities. At the same time, do not do anything to sully the honor of the Praxeum. You are not only a student offering your services, you are an emissary to our Order. And do not dwell overmuch on familial ties, no matter how close you are to your aunt and uncle- you serve the greater good, now." He breathed in and sighed. "This is all the counsel I can offer you."

"Thank you, Master."

Moarn nodded. "Twilight approaches. Return to the Temple for the evening meal and get some rest. I shall not be able to see you off tomorrow morning. All the same... may the Force be with you."

And with that said, he walked away.




"Frak, I shouldn't have had-haUUGUGAAUUGHH!!!"

"By the Force, kid- face the other way, yer gonna make me crash if you blow!"

Syrra retched hard, shuddering violently as she struggled to keep the recently-acquired contents of her stomach from shooting out of her muzzle. She hacked and coughed, managing to succeed by taking in deep, gulping breaths of air.

"...shouldn't have had breakfast," she mewled weakly.

Captain Lynch looked her over in with pity, the human putting a reassuring had on her shoulder. "2 minutes into the flight, we've barely made into into the vacuum, and you're already a hair away from ejecting your rations? How the hell did you get to Yavin 4 if you get the jitters [i]this[/i] bad?"

Syrra cringed and shivered, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "L-lion nettle, works as a m-mmph... mild sedative, so I napped most of the way. I only had the (hic) 3 leaves, no more." She looked up at the slightly portly, blonde-haired pilot, wiping her eyes miserably. "The last few times I traveled with my Master for missions, I wasn't much better. In your professional opinion, do you think I'll ever get used to space travel?"

Lynch nodded, checking the console in front of him. "You might feel like slag right now, kid, but I've seen worse before. My kid sister used to hate it, she'd faint just on takeoff- now she flies freighters down the Corellian Trade Spine." He grinned at her. "Don't feel bad- might just be you're not used to the [i]Truly Sorrier[/i]. She's not a cursed ship, but I admit she ain't comfy on take-off, either."

"No kidding," she groaned.

"Aww, buck up, kid," the good-natured pilot responded, flicking an overhead switch and swinging the ship away from the horizon line of Yavin 4, just under Yavin proper. "Good news is that getting from here to Ekibo won't take too long- about 4 hours in hyperspace, the path there is pretty well-mapped."

"What does that mean, exactly?" she asked, keeping her eyes shut and trying to focus.

"It means that folks properly mapped the region between here and the Wild Space regions and figured out there's next to nothing that we'll have to spend time trying to avoid. Try to take a straight path from here to Colomus, or as straight a path as possible, for example- you'll have to spend about 3 days to get around obstacles like orbiting stars, 1 or 2 black holes, a handful of gravity wells- even the Alderaanian Graveyard." He shuddered. "I'm a touch Force-sensitive myself, I don't like passing that region if I can help it."

Syrra opened her eyes slightly in curiosity. "Why not?"

Lynch hesitated. "The Echoes." When Syrra looked confused, he explained. "There were roughly 2 billion folks on Alderaan when the Empire decided to vaporize it. Way I heard it, Jedi Masters who were still alive back then could feel all the death, even from the other side of the galaxy. You go to the Graveyard these days, you start to hear the whispers of all those poor souls. Couple of stories I've heard, some Jedi that linger too long even start to lose their minds when those Echoes turn to screaming. Never heard the screaming- but I sure as hell felt the Echoes. Even non-sensitives get the jitters there, I hear."

He brought his attention back to the ship and punched up a navigation chart. "Our little road trip, though, doesn't go anywhere [i]near[/i] the Deep Core, so we're pretty much guaranteed a straight shot once we get goin'."

Syrra swallowed and nodded. "Sounds good, Captain Lynch, thank you." Her eyes flitted to a green indicator light on the pilot's panel. "And you're sure you don't mind showing me the ropes of basic piloting?"

Lynch smiled. "Not at all. But truth be told, you don't look like you're up for it right now. I'd suggest getting a couple hours of sleep if you can- got a foldout bunk in the main hold you can curl up on for a couple of Zs. Don't you worry, we'll have plenty of time to grow your wings while you're on mission." A rapid, high-pitched beeping interrupted him momentarily. "Welp, looks like calculations are done, we're ready to hit lightspeed. Ever seen hyperspace before, kid?" Syrra shook her head, looking apprehensive- Lynch merely grinned. "Stick around- it's a hell of a sight for first-timers."

She watched as he set the coordinates swiftly, then drew back a long handle to his right side, gasping as she felt the ship lean back, a monstrous roar bursting out from the back of the ship. Before she could ask what the sound was, she glanced forward, seeing the stars begin to deform, streaking around the cockpit viewing ports to both her sides. Whatever fear might have been manifesting in that moment disappeared as the ship lurched forward. Every star within view seemed to morph into thin beams of light, like high-intensity blaster bolts streaking around the ship, followed swiftly by an dull, explosive crack.

Then space seemed to cease to exist. Where once was the blackness of space, dotted with pure light, instead was a vast expanse of bluish hues, rippling around and in front of the cockpit like some manner of dimly-lit tunnel. She gaped at the sight, having never seen anything like it before in her life that could even remotely compare. "By the Force," she whispered. "It's... incredible."

Lynch chuckled. "Ain't it, though? This here what you're lookin' at is one of the greatest mysteries of the universe- [i]hyperspace[/i]. Not even the universe's top scientists are sure what it really is, beyond it being a higher-dimension you get to by passin' the speed of light by a wide margin. Now, don't stare too long, kid- folks have been known to go mad if they lose themselves lookin' at the void." He stretched out, grabbing a datapad from next to him. "Bunk is in the main hold if you want to use it- I'll be in the 'fresher, work out a bit of 'tension.'"

Syrra grimaced, ears flattening against her head in offense. "Please, don't be gross."

Lynch scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stood. "I may be slightly Force-Sensitive, but I ain't a Jedi celibate, kid. Ya'll get yourself a bit of sleep, though. Used to help my kid sister when she slept to the sound of a running ship." He sauntered off, kicked open a hatch opposite the passenger ramp and sealed it behind him.

Syrra stared after the captain, frowning. She was no stranger to male innuendo in her time with the Rangers. As spiritual as the Trianii could be, the males of her race seemed like the males of every other race- completely comfortable with embarrassing themselves with their "flight sticks". She shook her head, glancing back out of the cockpit.

She did manage a smile, gazing at the rippling unknown beyond the cockpit. Heeding Lynch's words, she stood up and stretched, turning away from the sight- had she never known of the Praxeum, she might never have known of such beautiful mysteries like hyperspace.

Walking with slightly stronger legs than she'd had when she boarded, she made her way to the main hold- 4 hours of sleep didn't sound bad at all.




It came quickly, a dreamless rest lasting what seemed like ages. But after a while, Syrra stirred uneasily. A form was taking shape in her mind, a dim, golden aura in the distance. As far as she could tell, she had no body or voice, unable to turn or look anywhere else- her sight remained on the light before her, slowly taking shape.

A part of her was afraid, a part that tried to draw away as the aura approached her. It was at a short height, about level with her navel once it seemed to be within reach. No part of her reached out to it, apprehension and dread flooding through her.

The light changed, slowly taking shape- a hunched back, a head stretching out at the front with a pair of triangular ears, a long narrow snout at the end, and where the eyes should be were two piercing gold lights brighter than the rest; beneath the bulk of the light, four appendages formed and ended with large paws at their end, supporting the rest of it; a moderate-length, bushy tail formed at the back.

It was a shape so familiar to her, even as she recognized it as completely alien. She shivered, images and sensations of a past event flitting through her mind and body. She found she was able to step back- but only once.

The beast threw back its long, joyous howl that echoed through her ears, the sound startling the Trianii such that she felt herself falling backwards. She drew back as the creature stepped forward, but she could not sense anything perverse in its thoughts- if she could indeed sense it at all. She couldn't tell if her heart had been racing before, but now that she was aware of it, a sense of peace began to fill her.

The creature changed shape again, but not completely- even as the body lengthened, the hindpaws growing into a bipedal position, the forepaws into longer, rough hands; the face (or what little of its shape she could perceive) seemed to change only slightly. The figure, which she sensed was male, stared at her almost impassively- then without warning, reached out with his left paw, offering it to the fallen feline.

There was no fear anymore, just curiosity- she took the paw, feeling herself being raised up into a standing position, staring up into the figure's eyes. The light faded, now replaced with tired, sad golden eyes that she gazed back into- pain, sorrow and loss were all she seemed to see in them. She lifted a paw tentatively, wondering if her touch would soothe him.

Without warning, the figure disappeared.

And everything went to hell.




She wasn't sure what awoke her- the deafening alarm overhead, or the violent shock that rocked through the ship.

"Kid, get your ass up here! We got a karking problem outdoors!"

Syrra shot upright, falling out of the bunk and scrambling to get back on her feet as the ship lurched on its starboard side- she could her a deep hissing sound somewhere in the back, and the rush of air around her ruffling through her fur. Grabbing at railing, secured chairs, anything that kept her upright, she climbed more than ran into the cockpit, Lynch struggling to maintain control over the [i]Truly Sorrier[/i].

"What the hell is going on, Captain?!"

Lynch grimaced. "I have no fraking idea! I got the indicator to come out of lightspeed and just before I cut the sublight drive the port-side wing gets torn off!" His hands danced across the consoles, flipping switches and handles. "We've got major damage, kid- bailout-pods are disabled, one of the propulsion exhausts is gone, [i]and[/i] we're leaking atmosphere into the black!"

Syrra secured herself in the copilot seat. "Anything I can do, Captain?"

Lynch glanced at her, fear in his eyes, but nodded. "Do what I say and we [i]might[/i] make it through this! Right side, there'll be a release switch labeled 'AUX', it's copilot-side only- the moment the light beneath it flashes, you pull that sucker down!" He grimaced. "Can't figure out... what the hell...!"

Syrra kept her eyes on the handle, listening to the Captain mutter to himself in a panic. "Random meteor...? Unregistered vessel, faulty sensors...?" He looked up at Syrra. "Sublight engines would have cut early if they detected a ship or mineral body floating in front of us- but that's the only thing that could've torn off the wing! Thinkin' maybe we clipped something while still in hyperspace- should count our lucky stars that we didn't just outright explo-- THERE, HIT IT!"

Syrra saw it the moment it flash, wrenching the handle downwards. She looked up as the remaining propulsion system roared- Ekibo was speeding towards them, a few distant cities visible even now, and the ship was beginning to level out slightly. She breathed easier, until Lynch spoke.

"Grab something and pray to whatever gods you got, kid- we're gonna bend some durasteel landing this bitch!"

Syrra's teeth chattered as the ship shuddered violently, the atmospheric turbulence rattling both of them, the jet black of space brightening swiftly into a clear blue as the [i]Truly Sorrier[/i] descended at high speed, seemingly angled far too steeply to be safe. She looked fearfully to the captain. "Lynch...? We aren't going to make it, are we?"

He looked grim, eyes darting side to side- there was not much time. "We will- I got a plan. It'll be the end of this ship's career, but it might just save us. We need to cushion the bottom of the hull before we make landfall, soften the blow. But you're going to need to concentrate, kid."

"What?"

"You need to help me reduce our airspeed- you've lifted cargo containers with the Force, I've seen you and the other Padawans do it!"

She gaped at him, immediately understanding what he was getting at, glancing out the cockpit- the ground was coming up fast. "T-this ship is easily a hundred times larger and a thousand times heavier than-"

"Kid, we are going to [i]die[/i] if you don't set aside your doubt [i]right fucking now[/i] and concentrate!" He checked his console, gritting his teeth. "We have 45 seconds!"

Syrra's heart was racing- there was no way in hell she could pull off something that impossible. No Jedi would be capable of doing so unbelievable- but it took her only 5 seconds to accept that she was either going to die trying to accomplish the impossible, or die doing nothing. She shut her eyes tight, trying to purge her fear, slow her heartbeat and focus on the ship- she tried not to think about how much time they had left, or how impossible this was, or the fact that she was going to be a smear on Ekibo's landscape in about half a minute.

It came sooner than she expected, the trance she felt while reassembling her lightsaber, the flow of energy coursing through her. Whether due to her desperation or because the Force somehow understood the circumstances, it seemed stronger than it had before as she expanded her influence around the ship, commanding it to slow down.

She heard a dim crunch in the distance, but she knew the ship had not yet crashed. Her nerves seemed to scream in fear and pain as she poured all of her mental effort towards the task of altering the ship's velocity, unable to perceive whether she was successful of not- yet she didn't open her eyes to see, suspecting if she did, her concentration would falter. Best not to see the end...

She heard the pilot next to her as if at a great distance, whooping gleefully- a sharp hiss burst out from under the ship, followed by a sickening crunch as what sounded like the landing struts plowed through the terrain below them. A horrible jerk brought her out of her trance as one of the struts caught a large boulder, snapping the strut free from the ship- and she knew the strut had snapped when it glided past the cockpit window, moments after the [i]Truly Sorrier[/i] lurched right and swung through the air, the momentum flipping the ship upside-down.

Syrra screamed as the ship seemed to roll violently along the surface of the planet, the hull caving in around her, saved from being tossed around like a rag doll only because she had her seat harness to keep her in place. She caught a brief image of Lynch flailing in his seat, his head slamming into the console before her head snapped back and blackness overtook her.




Pain.

She'd never felt so much of it in her life. Her chest burned, both from the bruising force of the ship suddenly stopping and the acrid taste of smoke and ash in the hull. She coughed, tasting blood in her muzzle and moaning as the reaction sent shocks of torture through her limbs, fumbling around her seat harness and unclasping it, sliding out of her seat and onto the floor. She grit her teeth, reaching up at the console and pulling herself onto unsteady legs, eyes drawn to the pilot seat.

Lynch was hunched over the console, a gentle river of blood pouring off the edge, the source of the flow coming from his nose, mouth and a horrible gash over his brow. But he was alive, eyes alert and fearful, his breathing shallow. He saw Syrra move and a look of relief seemed to wash over his face.

Syrra staggered to his seat. "Come on, captain... ship's burning, we need--"

"Can't... move..."

"What?"

"M'arm..."

The Trianii shivered, then looked to his left arm, gasping- it was mangled, stuck in the collapsed port side of the hull, crushed between two durasteel braces. She whimpered quietly, not sure how to aid him.

He supplied the answer. "S... saber..." He pointed weakly with his right hand at the weapon on her belt.

Syrra's eyes widened. "But... your arm--"

"I already... lost it, kid... only way now..."

Syrra shivered, looking at his arm again. She doubted any Jedi healer would be able to restore it. With an incredible sense of pity, she drew her weapon and ignited it, moving to the injured pilot's left side and steeling herself, keeping the energy blade suspended above it. With a grimace of self-loathing, she brought the blade down on his arm, just below the elbow. It went through cleanly, searing through the flesh and leaving a cauterize stump.

Lynch left out a strangled cry, gasping for breath and struggling to get out from his seat. Syrra nearly deactivated her weapon before looking around, trying to get her bearings in the unlit ship's interior. She could see tongues of flame flit out from around the main hold, but the passenger ramp was free of hazards, save that it was partially wrenched open a few feet and seemed unable to drop lower. Leaving Lynch behind for the moment, she rushed to the ramp, putting weight on the steps and pushing down, growling when the ramp refused to budge. Her weapon still lit, she cut the hydraulic cylinders on either side, then the hinge of the ramp itself, watching the steel hatch fall away to the ground and clattering against a rocky outcrop, some 3 meters below.

She returned to Lynch's side, the pilot groaning as she swung his good arm over her shoulders, wrapped her left arm around his midsection and hoisted him onto his feet, helping the maimed captain toward the damaged hatch. "Hold on, it's about a 10 foot drop." Lynch nodded dimly, and the pair dropped through the hole.

Syrra landed firmly, but yelped as Lynch's legs gave out under him and brought her down further. She cursed her genetics for her smaller, less muscular frame, cursing the old gods for giving her the short straw in that regard- grabbing the pilot from under the arms, she pulled him out from under the burning wreckage, not stopping until she was at least 30 feet away. Her boot caught a loose rock and she stumbled, falling onto her back as she gasped for clean air, mewling slightly as the soreness in her chest returned.

She blinked at the bright sunlight, sitting up and looking around at her surroundings, a rush of familiarity hitting her. "We're... here?"

Baarok Estate.

She saw the tall spire of stonework on the tallest hill about a mile away, hardly able to believe her eyes, certain that the next time she blinked, the manor would disappear. Yet when she did, it remained- whether it was the will of the Force or just stupid amounts of luck, they had crashed within viewing distance of her destination. Before long she noticed a group of figures rushing towards her, already less than a few hundred meter away. She couldn't find the strength to do much more than wait.

3 lightly-dressed Trianii laborers reached them first, a tall male with a topknot churring in her language. "<We saw your crash, are there any other survivors within?>"

Syrra shook her head, responding in her native tongue. "<Just myself and the captain- he requires immediate medical attention.>"

"<And yourself?>"

"<I am uninjured- tend to the captain, please.>"

She drooped her head over, relieved as the laborers rushed to Lynch's aid. She only looked up a minute later, noticing another person standing above her, offering a large, snow-gray paw. Her eyes flicked up to the figure, who wore a brown captain's longcoat, a rifle on his side and concerned, kind look on his wolfish face.

"I'm Kajex Surnahm- do you need a hand getting to the manor?"


