Difference between revisions of "3005/Drifting in the Dark"

Latest revision as of 07:37, 13 October 2015

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The life of an Imperial fugitive is one of overwhelming tedium, interspersed with episodes of terrifying chaos and activity.

Over the past months, Juno Eclipse kept the Rogue Shadow near the Outer Rim's hinterlands. No patrols run out here, and the chance of being spotted is far lower, although it also means that parts and supplies are more difficult to come by. It's forced her to get creative with her maintenance and repairs.

At the moment the blonde pilot is sprawled on her back on the cockpit floor. A strip of leather is laid out on the cold metal plating, with a selection of tools arranged over it. The upper half of Juno's body is mostly hidden under the co-pilot's console, and a pile of computer and mechanical parts are neatly and carefully stacked beside the open husk.

The sound of delicate tools being worked are audible from inside the console, from time to time, and every so often Juno twists to lie the other way, relieving the pressure against her lower back or hips. It doesn't look particularly comfortable, and by the look of it, she's been at her work for a while -- the chronometers suggest the Rogue Shadow's wake cycle won't be for many hours yet.

There comes a soft sound from beneath the console; a strange, breathy sort of humming, surprisingly tuneful despite its soft tone. Presumably it's Juno's method of coping with the aggravation of her delicate work and a means to pass the time. The melody is soft and meandering, equivalent roughly to classical music in other worlds. It stops every so often -- largely as Juno stops to pull herself out of the console, survey her tools, and pick something else from the pile; one or two of the smaller ones clenched between her teeth for easy swapping.

...She's really starting to get tired of the Outer Rims.

Revan (414) has posed:
     Not far from the Rogue Shadow flew another ship, though the two could not possibly be more different. While the former was a sleek espionage fighter boasting the Empire's secret cutting-edge technology, the latter was a comparatively clunky, careworn freighter converted to a smuggler's ship with what had been cutting-edge re-fittings several thousand years in the past. But for all of its shortcomings, the Ebon Hawk was the current hope of a solitary Jedi Knight on yet another quest to save the galaxy.

     At the moment, however, that Jedi was not aboard. One utility droid and one shinki lovingly maintained the ship, much the same way they were similarly lovingly tended by their master. They were part of the Ebon Hawk's mechanical crew and -- as highly-specialised robots -- were what made up for its deficiencies in technological advancement. This enabled the solitary organic life form to come aboard the ship she was currently escorting.

     And what an unexpected escort it was. Several months ago, and Lowri Revan-Shan was certain no glimpses of the future through the Force could have made sense of the complete turn-around. It was perhaps the most unique turning away from the Dark Side the pale-haired Guardian had ever seen, one she was quite thankful for. She had taken a, admittedly reluctant liking to the former Imperial pilot, and being on the same side -- at least where the new Empire was concerned -- made life marginally easier. Even if the two-person-and-one-droid crew wouldn't be able to help her out when she finally tracked down whatever it was which was threatening the galaxy in her time, helping decent people out was its own reward.

     Currently, Revan wasn't so much helping directly as co-ordinating repairs which Juno wouldn't be able to perform without a spacesuit. The remaining member of the Jedi's robotic entourage currently worked his technological marvels on the Rogue Shadow's outer hull. She wasn't ever certain she would ever stop being amazed at just how advanced Cybertronians were.

     Lowri waited until the moment when Juno wasn't buried beneath the console before dropping a datapad on the closest flat area which wasn't the console and rubbing her shoulder. Hunching over said datapad for hours was probably not doing her posture any favours.

     "Well, the hull is in as good a shape as it's probably going to get without a factory wing behind it," Lowri remarked with a slight grimace, wiping her hands on the trousers of her commando uniform. "Still some fire scoring...that's not going to buff out."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The former Imperial pilot is hardly the kind of person to boast Force sensitivity, but her instincts are nonetheless very good. So are her reaction times -- and when the datapad is dropped onto the floor with a clatter, she glances over to regard the thing with a sour expression.

A moment later Juno pulls herself out of the console, rubbing at her face wearily and muttering under her breath, glaring at it. So many things to repair, and she's done so much work already, since their flight from the Empire. It seems the Rogue Shadow's never going to be back to one hundred percent.

"This poor ship." Sitting up, she tilts her head from one side to the other, working out the kinks. "I suppose I should have stopped a few hours ago."

Those blue, blue eyes slowly come back into focus as she blinks, listening to the laundry list of the Rogue Shadow's ailments. "I don't care about the scoring; most of that is going to be strictly superficial. I've already taken care of the actual structural damage from the scoring, and what's left won't be visible against the black hull."

"A factory wing would be nice. I remember the days when I could snap my fingers, and I'd have anything I needed for the ship. The very best of the Empire's technologies, right at my fingertips." Sighing, she leans back against the console, looking up to the viewport and the stars spangled across the void. "I suppose it's a decent trade-off. Freedom and pride for scrounging and striving. I've gone from special ops to scavenger." Her mouth twists, wry. "Perhaps I should just rechristen this ship the Lucky Mynock and have done with it."

Revan (414) has posed:
     Revan was one of those apparently rare Jedi of her age who knew better than to underestimate non-sensitives. She assumed that she would need a deliberate calling on the Force -- and perhaps not even then -- to sneak up on someone who had been raised and trained in a constant state of paranoia. Their new situation was not helping in the slightest, and while she wasn't going out of her way to announce her presence, treading extra-cautiously would likely set everyone else on edge. After all, Galen didn't exactly do 'subtle'.

     "Good call," Lowri answered. "True, ships generally don't repair themselves, but given how long you've been at it already, you're just as likely to fry yourself as get anything more done." Not that she looked much better, having spent nearly that amount of time directing her Insecticon companion and overseeing work on her own ship. "Go on back to the Hawk, Tiny," she instructed the grotesque-looking yet entirely docile giant mantis-wasp hybrid machine over her comlink. "Give your systems a rest."

     Tiny sounded somewhat disappointed his master wasn't returning with him, but did as he was instructed. "There's some energon stored in the cargo bay, big guy. Help yourself," she added, which from the answering chirp would be a successful pick-me-up.

     For the two women, a certain mutual pick-me-up would involve a certain foreign liquor and a device commonly called a "blender". Perhaps later.

     The Guardian snickered softly. "She seems to have narrowly avoided being blown to space debris. That's something." Leaning almost indolently against a support that belied the constant alertness both she and the pilot maintained, Revan folded her arms and sighed. "It wouldn't be by first dance laying low and cobbling together repairs without a decent support system with a fleet breathing down my neck, but it never stops being a royal pain in the aft. The upside is that it taught me about flexibility and being self-reliant. It makes you a lot harder to predict, and the bigger an Empire is, the more openings it gives to unconventional guerilla forces."

     She shrugged. "Still," the Jedi admitted, "The convenience of a good support system is nice. Not to mention being able to get a decent night's sleep..."

     Her head tilted slightly, regarding Juno with a jaundiced eye. "Speaking of which, when was the last time you did that?"

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Self-repairing ships would be nice, although I'm not sure how I'd feel about my skills being made obsolete." Juno offers a wry half-smile, pulling herself up to sit cross-legged on the cockpit floor. "I've put a lot of study and hard work into this ship. I'd hate for all of that to be gone so quickly."

She lets her head loll back against the seat of the co-pilot's chair, reaching up and raking her fingers through her hair. It's comfortable just to stop and rest for a few minutes. Revan's orders to the various droids of her crew are also half-heartedly listened to. Juno's own experience with such artificial life are limited to some fairly unsavoury examples, such as HK-47, and PROXY also has his moments. On the whole, she's more comfortable around fellow organics.

"Nnnnn." Juno lets her head drop back onto the seat cushion she's leaning against. "The Rebellion... I'm sure that's where the answer is. I just don't know how to approach them. Galen and I... our hands are hardly clean. How do you even begin to earn someone's trust when..."

When you've destroyed an entire planet? She doesn't voice the question, but the ripple of negativity behind it doesn't really make any mystery of what she was going to say. No doubt Callos is an event, a living nightmare, that will haunt her for the rest of her natural days.

Pushing herself to her feet with a grunt, trying in vain to ignore the pops and crackling of various aggravated joints, Juno flops into the co-pilot's seat with uncharacteristic bonelessness. When's the last time she's slept decently? The blonde pilot only closes her eyes.

"How much time have you got? It may take me a while to actually run the tally..."

Revan (414) has posed:
     "Not to mention a fully-automated system would break too easily, and then everything would be held up anyway" Lowri observed. "Sometimes, good old-fashioned elbow grease is still the most efficient."

     She eyed the streamlined console to her immediate left. "And with a work of art like this, she needs a personal touch." Tyrannical galactic overlords they might be, but the odd-eyed Guardian had to admit the Empire knew their machines. "I wouldn't worry about being replaced any time soon."

     And thankfully, Juno likewise wouldn't have to worry about the former Dark Lord creating any more bloodthirsty assassin droids any time soon, either.

     "I can understand," she replied, and was one of the few people for whom that wasn't merely a platitude or automatic polite answer. Juno wasn't the only one who had destroyed a planet...or two, if Telos could be added to the list. She hadn't been the one to give the order -- that had been Darth Malak's doing -- but the former Sith Lord hadn't been able to properly rein her apprentice in, either. And Malachor...that had indeed been her doing. While there had been no civilians on the surface nor in orbit around the Dark Side-rife planet, activating the Mass Shadow Generator was nevertheless an atrocity in its own right.

     Revan dropped into the pilot's seat with a similar sort of weariness. "Still have plenty of daylight..." she paused and gesticulated languidly at the viewscreen. "In the proverbial sense, anyway. If you need to knock out for a few, feel free."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Full automation is what you get with a droid, and I haven't exactly had stellar luck with those, for most of my life." Juno waves a hand, somewhere between irreverence and apathy. "The droid member of this crew is following orders to kill his own master," she relates with a sour grin, "and the only other droid I've worked with extensively is your lovely homicidal masterpiece. You have no idea how difficult it was to keep him from as much collateral organic damage as he could cause."

Pulling herself to her feet at about the same time Revan drops into her customary seat, Juno makes a soft, vaguely irritable sound. "Out of my seat," she snaps, and it's clear that even good friends don't get a pass when it comes to the pilot's seat. "I think I'll have a look at the long-range scanners, as long as we're just sitting here."

Her arms fold as she waits for Revan to either clear out or argue the seating arrangement. "Actually, we're still in the Rogue Shadow's sleep cycle. It doesn't really matter to me, any more; day or night, it doesn't affect what we're going to be doing. Running, hiding, searching, haggling... the life of a fugitive is hardly attractive."

"I'd like to join forces with the Rebel Alliance. I just need to know how." Her brow furrows as she drops her face, scowling at the deck. "How we can prove ourselves to them; how we can prove our sincerity... there has to be a way. And for the good of our own continued survival, we've got to join forces. I can't keep relying on you forever. And if I could bridge the gap between the Rebels and the Union, somehow..."

Revan (414) has posed:
     To her credit, the Jedi seemed chagrined. "Actually, I do. It was downright bizarre, really...after I lost my memories, one of the places I needed to go to recover a Star Map was on Tatooine. The problem was, I needed to get information on its location from Sand People, and to do /that/ I needed a translator. And funny enough, HK had ended up there and had somehow picked up their language. So without even knowing it, I bought back my own equally memory-wiped droid from a junk dealer and kept him around after that. Needless to say, I didn't take him anywhere I didn't want to erupt in bloodshed, which was...well, everywhere."

     Lowri made an entirely un-Jedi like roll of her eyes even as she shifted to stand up. "Don't take the other seat if you don't want me in this one," she grumbled, sounding for all the world like an argumentative sibling. It was mainly for the sake of her gadfly personality, even as she hadn't cared which seat was which at the moment. Sometimes she simply liked getting a rise out of people.

     But standing up did give her the opportunity to retrieve her datapad, performing a look-up on something else. "It's only a temporary situation," she reassured, her attention split between that and running a diagnostic on the nearby freighter's hyperdrive. It had been making funny noises earlier, and T3 didn't seem to know what was causing it. "If they keep blowing resources just to find you two and this ship, all that will do is signal the Rebels that they find you a threat, which means the Rebels /really/ want to find you. Past aside, if they're desperate enough they're not going to pass up an opportunity to hit the Empire where it might hurt."

     And on that subject, Lowri turned slightly to face someone possibly as stubborn as she was. "I thought I heard Kyle on the radio not too long ago. Once we're somewhere that can;t be immediately traced, I'll see about pinging him. There has to be /someone/ he can put us in touch with."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Let me rephrase that," Juno drawls, resting one hand against a hip. "The Confederacy made it hard. There were too many people there who could encourage his more psychotic leanings, and too many people who probably did exactly that."

"You looked like you were going to sit here." A forefinger is then jabbed straight downward at the pilot's seat. "This is the pilot's seat, and the Rogue Shadow is effectively my ship." She pauses, eyeing Revan with a steely grin that's mostly irreverent, and maybe a little bit serious. "Mine." Even Galen doesn't sit there, unless she's somehow indisposed.

Leaning back in her chair, the former Imperial blows out a sigh and cocks an eye toward the console. "Maybe. The question is, are they going to be desperate /enough/? They may well decide that Galen and I are less of a threat if we're dead. After all, we're the very embodiment of what they're fighting against -- a former Inquisitor tasked with systematically killing Jedi, and a former combat pilot with a hundred missions' worth of dead Rebels on her service record."

"They may just decide we're less of a threat if we're dead. For all they know, this could just be one of Vader's long games; a ploy, to earn their trust, and suss out their locations." She drums her fingers on the console, restless. "I wouldn't blame them; I'm not sure I'd trust myself, either, if I were in their position."

Reaching out, she runs a finger along the console, bringing it back to life to examine the astrogation charts. They're still drifting in the back end of nowhere at the fringe of the Outer Rim Territories, which means they're less likely to be found by Imperials... and probably near the front doorstep of some Rebel encampment or another.

"I'd appreciate it. I don't trust them, and they probably don't trust me, but Galen and I are beginning to run a bit low on options. We can't live the life of refugees forever." She points at the dark circles under her eyes; holds a hand out to indicate how her fingers tremble. "My training as a TIE pilot can mitigate some of this, but it can't keep me running forever."

Eyeing the charts thoughtfully, she glances up to regard Lowri. The blue light from the console makes her eyes seem an eerie, electric blue, and it casts deep shadows, underscoring the hollow look to her features. "It may be time to talk to the Union, too. I don't know that they can actually help me, but helping them..." Juno shakes her head, reaching up to brush some of her hair from her face. "I don't have a connection with the Force like you or Galen, but I can still sense that working with them, furthering their goals, is the right thing to do."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
    Galen crosses his arms as he exits his meditation chamber, making his way to the controls of the ship with the practiced silence of an Imperial Inquisitor. Though he has been stripped of that title, old habits die hard. He peeks around the corner just in time to see Juno indicating the pilot's seat and noting that the ship is effectively hers. He wasn't going to argue that point: while they were Imperial soldiers, the Rogue Shadow had been listed as belonging to Starkiller. Since Starkiller is dead, it was only fitting for Juno to take the ship. He smiles softly, but lets it fade almost immediately. It's clear that the running is taking its toll on Juno: it was on him, too, but he didn't feel it as much. His meditations could keep his energy reserves high for days, after all.

    Juno, however, is clearly exhausted, and as he listens from afar he pieces together what she and Revan are discussing. Assistance for their cause. He steps out, forcing his footsteps to ring out against the floor. "It doesn't matter if they don't trust us at first," he says, "If they try to kill us, I can defend against them. It would be nice if we had some sort of method of proving our story, but that doesn't seem to be the case." He relaxes his stance, allowing his lightsaber to float around him and disassembling it midflight. "You're right, though. Options are scarce." He smirks, his saber soon reassembling itself again.

    He takes a step forward, moving to rest a hand on Juno's shoulder. "The Union might believe us, if we can get the word in. I'd be willing to do what I need to if we have a chance at aid there."

Revan (414) has posed:
     Rubbing her temples lightly, Revan made no effort to suppress a sigh. "That's the very /last/ thing he needed," she commented darkly. "Encouragement."

     Not simply from the Confederacy, either. The alternate version of herself, the mysterious Sith Empress who had usurped the Empire which lay beyond the Unknown Regions, had reclaimed her title as Dark Lord upon defeating her former friend and apprentice, and resumed her campaign of terror on the galaxy with HK once more carrying out her orders of assassination and general slaughter. And to think, he had been created as a more humane method compared to her /other/ option.

     "I needed /some/ place to sit," Lowri complained mildly. "Don't take /mine/." Wherever that was. In truth, she wasn't too particular, but she'd be damned if she was going to keep standing up after being on her feet for eight hours.

     "I doubt it," she mused, "Unless rumours of their tactical expertise have been greatly exaggerated. Deals with enemies which are just as likely to turn on you once your mutual goals have been achieved are one thing, but that's hardly what you are. To the Empire, you're a Rebel, regardless of whether or not you're a part of the Rebellion. Snubbing help because of your past would be foolhardy at the very least, hypocritical at worst. There are no clean hands in a war."

     "And they're just as likely to trust Kyle more than me," she added. "Even Jedi status can only carry so far, and I'm from too far back in their past for any name recognition to do any good. Though that's probably a good thing, considering what /I've/ done."

     The Union, on the other hand, would be easier. Probably. "The difficult part of convincing them will probably be that you're not official Union allies," the Guardian observed. "Good words from Toph and from me should offset that...."

     Mismatched eyes shift to Galen as he entered, appraising him in turn. He hardly looked any better than Juno did...or perhaps Lowri herself, for that matter. She made a note to check a mirror, and she wouldn't be surprised at all to find weary circles under her eyes only barely mitigated by meditation techniques. Even Jedi -- and former Sith -- had their limits. They were all clearly exhausted.

     Turning back to Juno, she seemed to study something behind the blue eyes and making silent assessments. Galen would feel no touch of the Force, as Lowri was depending on her natural discernment rather than any mind-reading ability. "It doesn't take Force sensitivity to know what's right and what's wrong," she observed. "Objectively, the Union would be the easier of the two to convince, if I had to make an absolute decision. There's nothing wrong with approaching both, considering the lack of options."

     "You're right," her gaze shifted to Galen again and back. "But the Union seems to be the ones most accustomed to this sort of thing."

     Her shoulders lifted slightly in a shrug. "That's my assessment, at any rate."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The pilot glances over her shoulder, even as her companion makes a conscious effort to make noise. She knows how silently he can move, and maybe he might notice a subconscious twinge of relief. He's inadvertantly made her jump out of her skin on more than one occasion, and with as taut as her nerves are lately, it doesn't take much in the way of provocation to scare her.

Her head tilts to one side at the weight of his hand over her shoulder, as though comforted by the gesture, though her mind is still turning over the issue of options. Juno turns her head just slightly, only enough to regard Galen from the corner of an eye.

"You can't defend yourself forever. You're as tired as I am, and we're both going to have to sleep sooner or later." She huffs another sigh, resting her head against his hand. "Proving our story would be nice, but there are too many variables that could be fabricated. We could allow them to examine the Rogue Shadow, disproving the Imperial secrecy over its specs, but I can't take the chance that they might attempt to sabotage or destroy the ship."

She sighs, straightening long enough to rub the bridge of her nose. "Having Union support would help. I can't ask them to fight our battle, but I can ask them to provide us with basic supplies, and that would go a long way towards helping. If, of course, they listen to us. They have no more reason to believe us than the Rebel Alliance does."

Don't take her place? "That's not your seat, either. That's Galen's seat." Juno thumbs at the sideways-facing jump seat behind the co-pilot's chair. "/That's/ your seat."

No smugness at all. Nope.

The good cheer melts from her like winter ice in the sun. Juno steeples her fingers, leaning back in her chair and staring blankly at the viewport and its endless field of distant stars.

"No. I'm not ruling out either of them, but which order we decide to pursue may make a difference." She sighs, leaning back until her head rests against Galen's hand and wrist. "Well, we'll want to be speaking with them, then. Please talk to Kyle once you have the opportunity. Bring him in. I'd like to speak to him."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
    Galen smirks a bit. He can't hide his own exhaustion from either party here, though he makes an effort to keep it masked. "Yes, we will, but you first," he says, his gaze turning hard. "PROXY or I will man the ship. If you pass out at the controls, none of our planning matters, right?" He stifles a yawn, rolling his shoulders. "No, they can't look over the Shadow. Even if they don't sabotage it, you know as well as I do that you'd get so worked up about them touching or knowing the specs of your ship that you'd never settle back down." He shakes his head. "They'll have to take us at our word, and that will be the end of that." He rubs Juno's shoulder slightly, the gesture as much for him as it was for her.

    "The Union might be easier to convince, honestly. They have agents that saw what happened to us at the hands of the Empire, and it would be a great effort for them to deny that as some sort of act." He raises his free hand, rubbing his eyes with a fist. "She can sit there if she wants, I have my spot right here for the moment," he says, his voice teasing.

    It's not for long, though, as the conversation turns again. "Well... you guys are the brains of this plan of ours. Fill me in with the details once we get there, and I'll do what I need to."

Revan (414) has posed:
     Revan saluted with an irreverent smirk of her own. "Ma'am! Yes, Ma'am!" Juno wasn't the only one who liked poking sarcastically at hornet's nests, not by a long shot.

     But as mercurial as she could be, Lowri didn't make so much as a single remark regarding the relationship between pilot and former Inquisitor. If anything, a slight though somewhat indulgent smile adorned her features. It wasn't all that different from how things were between her and Carth, and she was an odd Jedi in that she had learned the true value of such attachments. Some might lead to the Dark Side depending on the person, but for the two former Sith, their loves were their paths out of darkness and into the light.

     "Don't worry about swinging open the bay doors just yet," she reassured them. "The more discerning of their officers will know better than to ask straight away, no matter how much their techs will be salivating. They /should/ know you're risking a lot to come to them and will likely not push the issue. And if they decide to...well. I have at least a little rank I can try to pull." Not that she was altogether certain she could, but at that point she would be pulling out all the famed charm she could muster. As she'd said before, the Guardian could be very persuasive when she put her mind to it...and she didn't need a single nudge from the Force to do so.

     "'I'll see what I can do on that end," Revan replied, stretching her arms over her head. "Supplies are something they can look the other way over, and if the Confederacy wants to make an issue out of it, they can deny culpability, especially if it came from third parties." She was used to playing that particular game.

     Lowri rolled her eyes again. "Well, if you had a proper turret, then I'd have a proper seat. It'd be difficult to hold a conversation from there, barring the radio or telepathy, but the upside would be being able to blow things out of the sky." She did, however, make for one of the aft-ward seats. At least the cockpit wasn't a two-seater, or else some rather creative pranks would be forthcoming in the near future.

     "Kyle might be...unorthodox for a Jedi, but his heart's in the right place and he's reliable," Lowri replied. "That makes him my kind of Jedi, even if some of the Masters would be apoplectic. I mean, as much as a Jedi Master could be, at any rate."

     That grin of hers might be infuriating or endearing, depending on the recipient's perspective. "But thinking outside the box like that has plenty of uses. In this case, it'll be helping reassure both the Union and the Rebellion."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"You and PROXY?" Juno cants her head to one side, eyeing Galen skeptically. "I can't trust you two to pilot your way out of a paper bag, and one with a hole in it, at that." She lets that blue, blue eye slide closed. "Actually, I'd worry more about sabotage than releasing the ship's specs. Remember, it was Vader who wanted that ship a secret, not me. I was only following orders because... well, because Vader," Juno finishes, somewhat lamely, flicking a hand in careless gesture.

"Your spot's in the co-pilot seat, where I can be sure you aren't going to touch anything that might send us wildly off-course," Juno mumbles, cracking an eye open to look pointedly up at Galen.

Back to the serious issue, though, she frowns, straightening her head and staring pensively at the viewport and its endless stars. "I don't think it's going to be any easier. They may well think of it as a ruse... but at the same time, if we publicly go to the Union, the Confederacy is only going to turn on us, worse than they already have. What few allies I might have had left in their number would be gone."

Folding her arms, Juno reaches up to rub at her lower jaw with one hand. "Sorry. The Rogue Shadow's a transport, not a gunship. I'm not going to start tacking pieces onto her willy-nilly like that thing you call a ship." She closes her eyes. "As to Kyle, I don't care what sort of protocol he follows; he's presumably anti-Imperial, and that's all I care about at the moment. I'm willing to do nearly anything at this point. As Galen says... I'm afraid we're running a bit thin on options and time."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
    Galen snorts. "Wow, someone's cocky," he says, "I'm a perfectly servicable pilot when I need to be, you know. How do you think I got by in between slain pilots, huh?" He puffs his chest out for a moment, then deflates and sinks into his seat. "Oh... I guess that makes sense," he says, stifling another yawn, "Vader does tend to... turn anything around him into corpses when he's angry. I guess I can't really say much on that subject though, huh?" He offers a dark smile, but it's quick to fade away. He shrugs his shoulders, rolling his muscles as he leans back in his chair. "They might think a lot of things. The fact remains that we need to give it a shot. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work, but not trying means we failed already."

    He closes his eyes, tilting his head toward the ceiling. "Well, a lot of those allies of yours probably want me dead anyway. Lute, for one, seems like the type to want me out of the picture." He shrugs again, leaning back. "I could always just try charging back into Imperial space and try to take Vader down alone, you know. It's a crazy plan, but I think I could do some damage."

Revan (414) has posed:
     Lowri couldn't really make an assessment of whether or not the Rebels would sabotage the ship. Potentially killing a Jedi was likely to be high on their list of No-Gos, but for all they knew, they'd be taking out one of Vader's Force-sensitive assassins. If she was in their position, she would certainly be suspicious, but she would be much more subtle, such as bugging the ship or planting a tracking device on it.

     "Sabotage seems too obvious," she commented, resting her elbow on the side console and propping her chin on her open palm. "It would be like swatting a mynock with an Interdictor. If they have some skill at espionage, they would plant trackers or bugs. Or both. If they're /really/ good, they would plant a few decoy ones for you to spot to distract from the real ones."

     Rolling her shoulder back until she heard a soft, satisfying 'pop', she stifled a relieved sigh. That felt better. "The advantage would be the open support of the Union. It might was well be an open declaration of war...aside from the already open one going on." Revan had to admit the war between the factions was rather bizarre by comparison.

     "Hey, leave my ship out of it," she protested. "No one gets to insult my ship but me." It was a bizarre, cobbled-together smugglers contraption and probably cursed, but it was home for the time being.

     The observations on Vader made her a little more introspective. "He's definitely unique. Typical brute force with a generous side of inspiration-by-terror, but surprisingly cunning. Evasion would be a lot easier if he used the old Sith direct approach."

     Her voice became flat at Galen's suggestion. She couldn't tell if he was serious or not, which was impressive in its own way. "Yeah...bad idea. You won't even get half-way to him with the defences he has in place. And that would be assuming you could get out of the bay before she," Revan jerked her thumb over at Juno, "stapled you down to the bulk with a warning."

     Never underestimate an angry woman, Force or no Force.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Cocky? I got us away from the Empire, didn't I?" Juno glances sidelong at Galen, thinning her lips in mock displeasure. "I sincerely doubt you could have gotten away from the snare Vader had set for us. Star Destroyers, TIE fighters... they were prepared, and they were waiting. On the other hand, I can outfly any pilot in the Navy, and that's a fact. They're fighting for pay. I'm fighting for survival, and... something more important to me than even that. And frankly, I have a lot less to lose than they do."

While he might have gotten away, she's not confident that he could have done so unscathed. She, on the other hand, can be unpredictable behind the controls when the need arises. The Rogue Shadow is a very different beast from the TIE fighters she learned to pilot, but she's never forgotten her combat pilot instincts.

Galen's plan earns a snort, and she closes her eyes, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the console. "No," she says, softly. "You're not going to do that, Galen. Do you remember what you felt when Vader took me?" She pauses, long enough to ensure that he reflects back on that dark time. "Would you do that to me...?"

"Vader isn't someone you can fight head-on, even if that strategy's always worked for you in the past. He's not the same as your other opponents or targets. He's cunning. Devious. I'm sorry to say it, but he'd crush you like an insect, even knowing what I know about what you can do. I don't think you'd do anything more than buy time in the short term, and that's not worth throwing your life away."

Revan, on the other hand, earns a soft snort. Juno opens an eye long enough to glance at the Jedi Knight. "Your ship is a cobbled-together bucket of bolts, and I'm amazed it can even fly, or that it could keep up with me through an asteroid field. Not that it wasn't unscathed, anyway." Still, she leaves off insulting the Ebon Hawk, although not without a final smirk.

Leaning forward, she folds her arms over the console, resting her forehead on her crossed arms. To the comment on possible Rebel action, she only rolls a shoulder without picking up her head. "Maybe." The pilot blows out a sigh. Her slumped position looks uncharacteristically vulnerable; tired and uncertain. "I'll speak with Katarn. What he says and how he says it will likely influence how I, or we, decide to proceed."

"I'd also like to speak to the Union." She closes her eyes. "If there's any way that you can arrange a meeting with one of their officers... I think it's time we start taking action. We've been running and hiding for long enough." Slowly, she straightens, staring straight ahead through the viewport. "It's time to take a stand, and show the Empire that they can threaten us, they can even kill us... but they can't take our dignity from us, and they can't make us fear them."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
    Galen smirks slightly, keeping his eyes closed. He chuckles, nodding a bit. "Yeah, you did. It was impressive! I'll never try to take that from you," he says, looking completely at ease. It's a ruse, however. His mind is racing, and he is quite nervous about their situation. If they didn't find some sort of reliable power base to put themselves behind, the Empire would eventually catch up and crush them out of existence. It's a huge problem, and he's not sure what the best course of action is.

    He nods, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. "I know... I know," he says, "It would be a one way trip, and it probably wouldn't do any good anyway. I wouldn't dream of trying to take the Empire on alone. Not now. I have more to worry about than just me." He shakes his head. "We'll just plead our case to both sides," he says, "Someone's bound to believe us. And if not, at least we gave it a shot."

Revan (414) has posed:
     It didn't demand much Force sensitivity for Lowri to feel Galen's agitation. Yet, even had she had been blinded to that universal and omnipresent power, she certainly wasn't blind in the conventional sense, and noticed the subtle visual tells. It was understandable; they were all on edge with the Empire breathing down their necks with a lack of a safe haven to call a base. They were right; they couldn't keep running indefinitely.

     "But it's /my/ cobbled-together bucked of bolts," she shot back. "And it can take an odd asteroid or two without crumpling." Not an insult or boast; rather, a statement of simple fact. The Rogue Shadow was a stealth ship, meant to slip in undetected into hot zones and leave quickly once a mission had been completed. It simply wasn't designed with protracted battles in mind....which was why the Ebon Hawk tended to end up 'tanking' by drawing hostile fire. As ancient as it was, the old girl could still take an impressive beating and keep flying. Against a Star Destroyer, she was as good as blasted into spacedust, but if something like a fully-armed cruiser showed up, that was the least of their worries.

     Other than that, the Ebon Hawk did her job, and did it rather well. Smugglers were nothing if not canny and resourceful. They had to be, just as much as she had to be now. The fact of the matter was that both crews needed each other this deep into their mutual problem.

     Leaning back in her seat, Revan picked up her datapad again, thumbing through what information she had called up. "From what I've gathered, Kyle's had his hands full with training the kids at the academy he runs with some Master named 'Skywalker'. I've yet to meet this mysterious Master of his, though apparently he's heard my name somehow." She shrugged, a gesture meant to hide her uneasiness on that front. Skywalker hadn't been the only one to have read up on the Jedi Civil War; Master Yoda had known as well, even sensing the lingering darkness that she was nearly paranoid guarding against. And if Jedi knew, than certain Sith might, though Vader thankfully didn't seem to be one of them.

     "That said, he should be easy to get a hold of. I'll ask for him over the Union channel so that you won't have to risk the open ones. At the same time, I can let the higher-ups know that there are a few things you'd like to discuss with them." While it might have been more prudent to have done so earlier, the Jedi hadn't wanted to risk them being found out yet without some kind of backup. More to the point, it had ultimately been Juno's and Galen's call, one she wasn't about to make for them.

     Mismatched eyes regarded the two thoughtfully. They were tough, spirited, funny, brave, and strong of conscience. As trying as their circumstances had been, it really wasn't difficult at all to help them out. "Then let's do this thing," she quipped with her own snarky, irreverent humour. "The Empire's already running on borrowed time, and I'd like to get a few good shots in before it comes crashing down."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
At the Jedi Knight's complaint, Juno lets her head cant to one side as she regards the cockpit interior. Could this ship withstand an asteroid or two? Most likely not. It was designed purely for stealth and speed, and all other aspects of its performance were sacrificed in the engineering phase. This ship can outrun anything in the Imperial Navy, but it would never survive being in the thick of battle.

The pilot's eyes flick back to her friend when Revan starts thumbing through the datapad. She listens to the report in silence. She has little personal experience with this Kyle Katarn, beyond mistaking him for a mercenary; she'll leave judgement of his character to others more capable of making that call, and trust in Revan's judgement. It's kept her alive thus far. They might have been on opposite sides of the galactic civil war, once upon a time, but she would trust her life to the unorthodox Jedi Knight. Indeed, she does exactly that on a daily basis.

"Good. Talk to him, and to them, too." Juno leans forward and rubs at her face in weary gesture. "We need to expand our options, even if we need to do it forcibly. And we need to pull ourselves out of this little doldrum we've found ourselves in." Straightening, she rakes her fingers through her hair, the white-gold slightly disheveled from too many sleepless nights. "If that means taking the rebellion to the Empire, personally, than that's what I'll do. Not just for me," she clarifies, eyes flitting down to the pilot's console. "For all the people like me, the ones who don't have a voice."

Her next statement is so soft it might be missed, if not for the ripples through the Force; threads of anger, of resentment and defiant sorrow.

"For Callos. And for all of the worlds like it, the ones ground beneath the Empire's boot heel, without even a chance to speak up or act in their own defense."

In setting her up to fail and in turning on her, the Empire created something more than a simple refugee pilot in Juno Eclipse. They lit a fire in the former Imperial without ever realising that they might have done so. What was once a small, insignificant spark has become a raging firestorm; a driving need to set things right and see justice done. Guilt, too, maybe -- Callos had not come without price to her -- but there's no question that she'll act this time in pursuit of what is right, rather than what is convenient, or merely orders.

Juno Eclipse smiles a tired, slightly resigned smile. "You know, they called me a rebel, at first. Riaul and all the others. I guess they didn't realise they'd make a real rebel out of me. I would've been content to hide, at first... but..." She can only shrug.