Difference between revisions of "5048/Repairwork"

Latest revision as of 03:52, 25 January 2017

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  Welcome to the Outer Rim, where lawlessness is the rule of the day. Even the Empire's long arm is tenuous out here, forgotten in the far-flung reaches of the galaxy, with pockets free from the stifling grasp of Imperial rule and law.

  Off the hyperspace route of the Hydian Way there lies a nebula off the Hydian Way in shifting hues of violet and blue, shot through with the tell-tale red of hydrogen. It's too warm for star formation, and too cool for violent chemical reactions. Drifting in the abyss, it's too far from any nearby star to succumb to the pull and shred of gravity. Maybe someday, this cloud might cool enough to become a nursery of newborn stars, but for the time being, it's no more than a lifeless cloud... and a safe place to hide.

  Here on the fringe of the cloaking gases, the Rogue Shadow is not drifting in the nebula, but perched on the surface of a completely dark and abyssally cold planet. Flung from its home star long ago, perhaps by the shockwave of a supernova, it's visible only by the absence of diffused, dim light from the nearest distant star. Coordinates have been fed to the Ebon Hawk, and this is where they lead. Yet the Ebon Hawk will have to look hard to find something just as dark on its surface -- the Rogue Shadow, its running lights and engines shut off. The Rogue Shadow's superior sensors were even able to forward its chemical make up to Revan so she has the /right/ dead planet and nebula combination.

  She'd mentioned needing some mechanical help. Forced to subsist on a steady diet of improvised repairs and sub-par quality parts, the ship must not be doing too well.

  Revan was told to dock whenever she was ready; PROXY would handle the specifics.

  Yet it's not in the guts of the engine that the former Sith Lord will find the former Imperial -- but in the meditation chamber belonging to her companion, its door left open. Galen Marek is here, sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed and hands at his sides. Infintesimally small pieces of machinery float in the air before him, an engineer's nightmare, groupings of pieces orbiting one another and attempting to form some order from the chaos. To the familiar, though, it's clear what the object is, or was -- the components of a lightsaber. To the unfamiliar, though... well, it's just a floating pile of junk.

  Juno's here, too, slumped against his side with her head on his shoulder. She looks like she's asleep, and probably has been for a while. That seems to be fine by Galen -- he's busy concentrating, although the weight against his shoulder is distracting, and his arm started going numb a while ago.

Revan (414) has posed:
The Outer Rim. A place Lowri Revan-Shan might have called home once, years ago before the Jedi found her and brought her to Dantooine for training. It was also where her new life as a Republic commando began after she had lost her memories -- or had them deliberately altered -- only to start a new Jedi path. And somewhere out among the countless, unnamed worlds was where she and her closest friend had been tortured to the point where their already-in-progress fall to the Dark Side became complete. Whatever threat to the galaxy lay out there waiting for the ideal moment to strike remained frustratingly beyond her grasp, likely due to the abrupt Unification which had merged it with a broader multiverse with no regard for time and space. That might have ended up prolonging her search...but then, it had also introduced infinite new possibilities.

     One such opportunity had been forming alliances with denizens of her own galaxy, albeit centuries into the future. There was Kyle Katarn, fellow Jedi with similar Grey-leanings, and his pilot Jan, both of whom likewise joined with the Watch after the disintegration of the Elite factions. As did other new allies; a fellow former Sith, Galen Marek, and the formal Imperial ace pilot, Juno Eclipse. It was these two she made her way to now, the Ebon Hawk navigating the deep of space through the violet-blue of the nebula. Mechanical trouble, apparently.

     Fortunately, the Guardian had a small crew of her own to assist, each one an artificial being. From her trusty untility droid T3 to the massive Insecticon Tiny to the diminutive shinki Ulaire, each was more than merely useful in maintaining a ship. It also helped that Revan had a passion for robotics which often frustrated her long-time instructor. For the time being, however, they remained on the Ebon Hawk once it had docked and Revan made her way to the Rogue Shadow.

     She would have left Galen to his meditations -- surely he had sensed her presence through the Force -- but training was a vital part of a competent Force-user, whether he considered himself a Jedi, a Light-aligned Sith, or something else. It was hardly her place to question as long as he wasn't following in his former Master's footsteps. But the reason for that was at his side, seemingly getting some much-needed rest. Lowri really hated to disturb them, but the work needed doing.

     Softly, she cleared her throat, hopefully not too loud to startle anyone.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  One of the former Sith Inquisitor's eyes half-opens. They're a soft brown, the colour of chocolate, and not at all fitting to the kind of ruthless agent he used to be. The other follows, and after a half-second's delay the mechanical pieces clatter to the floor. Beside him, Juno jerks awake with the beginnings of a startled gasp, but he lays a hand on her arm to calm her before she can do anything rash.

  Both of them look up to Revan, one blinking owlishly, the other distinctly bleary-eyed.

  "You got here faster than I expected you to." Galen's observation is a grunt, as he uses one hand to sweep the pieces of his lightsaber into the other hand. "If you could find us that easy, anyone could. That's a problem."

  Juno disentangles herself from Galen, clearing her own throat awkwardly and flushing a little, possibly at having been caught napping. Or caught napping on Galen's shoulder. "No, I sent her coordinates directly to this planetoid. Well, I'm glad to see you can still plot a hyperspace jump in this mess. Charting jumps anywhere since the Multiverse made a mess has been difficult, to say the least."

  Raking fingers through white-blonde hair, Juno unconsciously stands a little straighter. Old habits die hard, and some of her military training still has a firm grip on her psyche.

  She brushes past Lowri with a half-smile, gesturing for her friend to follow. "Come on. Both of you. I'll show you what the problem is. It's pretty rare that I need help with anything like this, but I think the old girl's improvisations and half-measures are finally starting to show," she adds, with a rueful pat to the Rogue Shadow's bulkhead.

  "I've been having problems with the auxiliary systems. This wouldn't normally concern me too much, and while the climate control isn't exactly a critical system, it's been uncomfortable in here. Some days we're roasting, and some days we're shivering. The ion drive is also having problems. I think the quality of the last fuel cells I was able to trade for are suspect, and I only hope it hasn't done permanent damage. I know this ship inside and out but I can't seem to figure it out." She frowns as she walks, footsteps echoing on the metal deck plating. "I really hope it wasn't intentional sabotage. I can only find them on Malastare, and while I'm careful not to be seen, there /is/ an Imperial presence there..."

  Sighing, she shrugs as she walks. "Anyway, maybe you might be able to find out something I can't. I don't like asking for help, but the ion drive and the climate control aren't really optional." Juno glances back over her shoulder, studying an access hatch as she passes by it. "At least the life support system is on its own array, thankfully."

Revan (414) has posed:
"It's a pretty good hiding place, actually," Revan admitted, leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded. She was dressed in the commando's uniform she still favoured for certain situations where the usually-practical robes were less practical. "It still wasn't easy to find. Goes without saying not to get too comfortable, but I believe you're good for the time being...At least enough to finally get some sleep."

     Not that their situation could be called properly comfortable, but such was a life constantly on the move, especially one of constantly evading the forces of an entire galaxy-spanning empire.

     The Jedi shook her head slightly. "To be fair, I did have a bit of Force help...though I wouldn't have made it this far without lessons from a fantastic teacher." Even without the Force she was a decent pilot, if nowhere near Juno's level even with it. She could give Carth a run for his credits, something she would have loved to see.

     The improvised fixes were impressive, but the blue-eyed pilot was right; the ship couldn't limp along indefinitely. Proper extensive repairs in a real hangar were what it needed, but at least with her droids they could at least make certain repairs that simply weren't possible for a lone pilot, no matter how skilled and knowledgeable. Revan would have collected her droid entourage anyway, but their skills certainly were handy in keeping the Ebon Hawk in the air.

     "It's what friends are for," the Jedi replied. She wouldn't rule out sabotage, but logically it was far more likely that the dealer had sold her defective goods...or that dealer's supplier had. Black markets were notorious for scamming...not that Juno had much of a choice to get the necessary parts. And the reputable sources in Revan's version of their galaxy only sold parts incompatible with ships over a hundred years more advanced. Still, it might be something that tiny robotic hands might be able to fix.

     "Yeah, freezing to death out in the middle of space isn't ideal," she quipped dryly. "I'll see what we can do."

     Using her communicator, the odd-eyed Jedi contacted her ship. "Tiny, can you do a once-over on the Rogue Shadow's hull? I doubt there's anything leaking, but I'd feel better if I knew for sure. Ulaire, can you grab your toolbox and join up on me? There's probably some micro-work that needs doing. T3, run a diagnostic on the system, just to be on the safe side."

     Once she received their affirmatives, she grunted in satisfaction. "That should get us started, at least."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  "Nebulas are always a good pick." Juno trails a hand along the bulkhead as she passes, as though she had some mystical ability to diagnose the ship at a touch. She doesn't. The Rogue Shadow is both home and familiar presence to her, though, keenly aware of every subtle vibration, every frequency of the ship's mighty engines that she can hear. "They scramble sensors, and if you find something that's not too cold and still or too hot and volatile, you're fairly safe."

  She shrugs. "Find something too cold, and you're going to get sucked into the core of a brand new star. Too hot, and it's anyone's guess what the chemical reactions might do to your ship, or your sensors. I'd rather not chance it with an array as sensitive as the Rogue Shadow's. I prefer them, though. Searching a large nebula for a single ship is damned tedious work."

  "Heh. Cheater," Juno throws over her shoulder to the Jedi, grinning. "The rest of us mere mortals have to do it the hard way."

  The blonde pilot marches along towards the engine room, leading her little entourage of Force-users. Honestly, between these Jedi and Sith, she might start feeling a little envious if she weren't so dedicated to her own training. She's a better pilot than any of them and she knows that to the core of her being. Probably. Maybe. It could be that she's a little arrogant where that's concerned, but she's earned it. Not many people can survive a hundred missions in a TIE fighter. Those tin cans are notoriously terrible and prone to mechanical failure, usually to the tune of killing their pilots. The bloody things don't even have their own life support.

  Juno shrugs. "Neither extreme is very pretty to deal with. I can't sleep when it's too cold, and you start losing your sharpness when all you want to do is sink into a torpor and hibernate. The heat's just as bad, though. Can't sleep in that, either, and you start losing your edge when it's too hot to think. I can't afford either of those extremes. I have to stay sharp when I'm in the cockpit. Neither of these two can fly the ship as well as I can."

  "I can fly the ship, but it's nothing fancy," Galen sighs. "I have to admit that she's better than I am. It's why I keep her around," he adds, serenely.

  "Why, Galen. Was that a /joke/?" The blonde pilot arches a brow, flashing a half-smile. "Not bad."

  Her mirth fades, though, as she keys open the door to the engine room. "Mind the heat, Lowri," she adds, to Revan. "This is well within operating parameters, though. It's hotter than Mustafar in here when the cloak is engaged."

  "Hmm. Thank that creepy droid-thing for me. The hull could probably use a once-over," Juno adds, folding her arms and leaning against the bulkhead, warm to the touch. "I haven't had the opportunity to. I don't have any spare EVA suits, and frankly, the idea of venturing out into the vacuum is unsettling. I like having a stout bulkhead between me and the vacuum."

  Looking over, she studies the equipment, resting her head against the bulkhead at an angle. Galen seems content to stand beside her, folding his own arms and leaning on her companionably as he watches Revan. "The mighty bot army. You could probably fully automate that ship of yours if you wanted to," Juno adds, with a grin.

Revan (414) has posed:
And nebulas were rather pleasant to look at, Revan didn't add. At least, as Juno pointed out, one didn't generally get too close to one. "Even with the Force it's a pain in the backside," she agreed. "To be honest, my droids did the heavy-lifting in physical scanning."

     Just because she /could/ do something, that didn't mean she wouldn't work smarter rather than harder.

     "Hey, to be fair, if Carth was here I wouldn't be the one doing the flying," Revan quipped with a grin. "He might be a touch Force-sensitive, but his flying is /all/ skill. I'm not too proud to say I have nothing on him."

     That was no Jedi modesty, either; she had told the entire truth on that. Though, if he was there, they would probably be mock-bickering to the point Juno might throw them out the nearest airlock, so it was probably a good thing he wasn't there.

     Then again, with the way Juno and Galen similarly bantered, she wouldn't have much room to complain...even if she threw all three of them out the airlock. Force-sensitives had a habit of dying in horrible ways, so it would have been apropos. With great power came unhappy ends, it would seem.

     "Sure thing," Revan replied. She was well-aware that she was the only sentient being to find the Insecticon cute. It was his personality. "The Ebon Hawk would have fallen to pieces long ago if he wasn't taking care of the hull."

     The Jedi grinned at the ex-Sith. "And my Master used to rant about how worthless my hobbies are."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  "I was tested for Force-sensitivity when I entered the Imperial Academy at Corulag. As it turns out, I have the approximate sensitivity of a hull rivet," Juno explains, shrugging. "I never had that to lean back on, and I cut my teeth on TIE fighters. After a while you learn to start being paranoid in how you handle and repair those tin cans. It saves your life. After having to fight those things every step of the way, the Rogue Shadow was a joy. Still is," she adds, patting the bulkhead, "even in her current state."

  Galen gestures with one hand, still leaning fold-armed against the bulkhead beside Juno. "It was designed to outrun anything in the Imperial Fleet. With all we've done to keep the ship afloat, I think it still could, but it would be a tight match between the fastest starfighters."

  "Her top speed is thirteen hundred kilometers per hour with the ion drive fully committed and screaming," Juno explains, shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it aside. The engine room is entirely too hot for sleeves; even Galen beside her shrugs out of his jacket, doing the same, tugging at his collar with a grimace. "I'm fairly certain she couldn't make that, now, not with the fuel cells in the shape they're in. I've been monitoring for damages that could've been caused by faulty product, and so far it still looks good, but I'm concerned about that. What she really needs is a nice, long vacation in drydock and a chance for me to go over every square inch of her innards."

  The pilot pushes off from the wall, sidling over to stand beside Revan, arms folded and lips pursed as she surveys the engine housing. Even with all the machinery off, it still hums quietly in its dormancy, a sound just on the edge of hearing and powerful enough to reverberate in one's teeth -- though to Juno, it seems more of a soothing sound; a reminder that all is still right in her world. "Heh. My hobby is making sure this ship is still spaceworthy, or we're both going to die."

  "Hobbies?" Galen looks up. "You had hobbies? I think you had a leg up on me, then... I mean, sure, I like experimenting with lightsaber crystals, but I guess I wouldn't really call that a hobby."

Revan (414) has posed:
"They're mass-produced from what I've heard," Revan agreed. "Seems to suggest the Empire thinks of the lower ranks as disposable. Or a way to weed out the less-skilled."

     As for the Ebon Hawk, she shrugged. "The Hawk's not very glamorous...a local crime boss got his hands on an old smuggler's freighter and completely outfitted it to be his personal ship. Supposedly, it was the fastest thing in the Outer Rim...at the time. I, ah, needed to get off the planet post-haste and the Sith had already dropped a tonne of roof on him, so..."

     In other words, she stole it. Davik Kang, being quite dead, wouldn't need it anyway.

     Lowri shrugged off her own jacket, tying it around her waist, leaving her in the sleeveless form-fitting top underneath. "Even top-of-the-line ships need some downtime, like people. With the whole factions breakup going on, I was hoping the Watch would have something useful, but..."

     That precluded evading the Empire long enough to make use of any facilities they might have, at least enough to avoid an incident. But for how long that could keep going, the Guardian couldn't say.

     "Let's hear it for useful hobbies," Revan quipped before the mismatched eyes flicked to Galen. "The Masters let me tinker with droids when we weren't training, at least from what little I remember," she explained. "Most thought it was weird but harmless, some thought it pointless when we had /the Force/."

     The way she rolled her eyes slightly at the memory indicated her own opinion of that rather arrogant assumption. " My Master was a bit strange...she found the skill to be useful, but she couldn't understand and disapproved of my passion for it. As if toying with droid innards was distracting me from yet more meditation."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  "That's becaues they /are/ disposable." Juno folds her arms again, shifting her weight as she eyes the engine housing. "Pilots and soldiers aren't even referred to by name. They're referred to by service number. It's just another way to strip away their humanity. Or whatever they are. If they're in the Empire, though, they're probably human."

  Juno smiles a wolfish little smile. "So the crime boss wouldn't need it any more."

  "The Rogue Shadow's not so different," Galen chips in. He lets himself slide down to land on his rump, grunting at the jarring impact and splaying his legs out in front of him more comfortably. "The way I saw it, the Empire wouldn't need it any more."

  "And it was one less weapon in their arsenal. The last thing I needed to worry about at the time was someone coming after us in a ship I know inside and out, because rivet for rivet, I /know/ they haven't got anything that can match her." Juno cocks her head slightly. Facilities from the Watch? "No, not really. They're about as rag-tag and scattered as Galen and I. They have manpower, maybe, but that's not what I need. I need a safe place to set down where I can power her down completely and give her a thorough comb-over. If push came to shove, I guess I could do that on Malastare, but I wouldn't trust anyone there. Malastare is a desperate planet full of desperate people."

  She pauses, thoughtfully.

  "Also, I really hate high-grav planets."

  "I'm not a great maintainer of droids, but I know my way around them when I need to. Mostly to put PROXY back together again." Yes, he still tries to kill his master at semi-regular intervals. And the both of them still get yelled at by Juno if they play their murdergames anywhere near the bridge. Or anywhere else that isn't the meditation chamber. "Meditation is useful, but it only does so much." Galen shrugs, expressively. "Sometimes you just need to /do/ something. Or hit something."

Revan (414) has posed:
"I'd heard that too," the pale-haired Jedi replied. "Kyle also has more than a few horror stories." Between the two of them, she was starting to wonder if their war was even worse than the Jedi Civil War and her race to stop Malak.

     "Essentially," Revan replied with a shrug. "Though I suppose that's one of those 'grey areas' the Order sometimes frowns on yet doesn't seem to consider stealing from a murderer to be strictly-speaking Dark Side, particularly when you're trying to get an important Jedi away from the Sith hunting her."

     As for the Watch, the Guardian frowned thoughtfully. "It's turned out that way," she agreed. "I'd hoped they would at least have some resources, but not nearly what's needed."

     She sighed. "Hunting down alternatives would take too long. I'll see what can be done with the ones you've got now, but there might not be any other choice but to go back to Malastare."

     Revan was just as disinclined to go; even Force abilities didn't make a high-gravity planet any more enjoyable or less dangerous.

     "I know my way around enough to keep my crew in running order," she admitted. "Nothing an actual trained tech could do, I imagine, but at least enough to, say, erase the assassination protocols of an ancient assassin droid when he asked me to." Having to talk her way around the Sith Master what had happened to the deadly droid guarding the tomb of Marka Ragnos had amused her companions in spite of the dangerous situation they had been in. And speaking of her adventures...

     "The last time I opted to hit something rather than meditate...didn't end quite as well as I thought it would," she admitted. "Not that doing nothing /but/ meditating does any good in the real galaxy, but, well. Knowing when to hit and when not to isn't always easy."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  "That's right. I'd forgotten Katarn was part of the Empire in his own world. I don't know that name, so I suppose either they don't exist, or they're somebody I've had no reason to cross paths with in my own world..." Come to think of it, she'd still want to punch the smarmy bastard, anyway. That had been her inclination the first time they'd met, and the only reason it hadn't held strictly true was the fact that they shared the spirit of rebellion against the Empire.

  Juno sighs, shrugging. "I'm sure he also has more than a few enemies. He might be willing to help me, but I can't say I get along with him very well. Our first meeting was a little rocky. It's been rocky ever since. He's a bloody mercenary."

  "The Watch? It's a collection of freedom fighters and desperate people not unlike me. They have Elite resistance in the form of the Paladins, I'd imagine, from what I've heard of them. It'd be dangerous for them to flaunt any resources they did have, or associate publicly with the Watch... I can see how it'd be hard to have something like a base. It'd just be begging for retaliation from the law enforcement of a given place they're operating in, you know?"

  She dips her chin, looking down at the deck plating with hooded eyes. "It's kind of unfortunate, though. Sometimes the law probably represents places like the Empire... 'lawful' doesn't necessarily mean 'good,' or 'good for the people...' so I guess that people like us are always going to be necessary."

  It also stands to reason that they wouldn't have a lot of resources. If the Watch had a stronghold or a hub of operations, it would be too much of a target. More than that, though, it's probably full of desperate folk who live more on dreams than on means. They run on their ideals and their optimism, not funding and reliable gear. Juno can certainly understand that. Her bitterness towards the Empire and her anger at their treatment of innocent civilians, let alone the Callos' of the galaxy, are the only things keeping her going some days. Some days she and Galen have been hungry, or cold, or so exhausted they wanted only to break down and weep.

  The life of a rebel isn't an easy one -- such is the price to be paid in this galaxy for having a healthy moral compass.

  "Ugh. I really hope you can find something that isn't Malastare. That place is exhausting; high-gravity always is. I have enough sleep deprivation for the moment."

  "So do I. Most of the time, we have to trade off shifts to keep an eye on the sensors." Galen frowns; his deep-set eyes make the expression seem more severe. "PROXY can do it, too, but it pays to be a little paranoid, these days. Vader doesn't like failure. He also doesn't like loose ends."

  "I don't think he likes much of anything, really," Juno quips.

  Galen shrugs. "Anyway... yeah. Sometimes things need to be hit, though. Words don't always solve everything... and I guess that's fine by me. I'm no diplomat, and I probably never will be. There's still a need for people like me."

  Why, that's shockingly philosophic of you, Juno's arched brow seems to say. The pilot shrugs, too, retreating to slump down at the wall beside Galen. He puts an arm around her shoulders without thinking, and she leans on him in the same unconscious gesture. She flicks a hand, dismissively. "Do what you have to do. I had some scrap due for Malastare I was going to sell for a few extra credits, but if there's any of that you can use, help yourself. It's in the cargo hold. Just don't touch the podracer, and nobody gets hurt."

  Juno's sweet smile means she's joking and won't actually hurt Lowri. Right?

  ...Right??

Revan (414) has posed:
"He might be from your future...or one of these alternate future versions of the galaxy..." Another sigh punctuated Lowri's musings. "Well, all these complicated tangles of potentialities isn't really that important. I'd probably have fun pondering them all day if there wasn't so much important work to do." For all her love of doing the Consular thing and pondering scientific and life mysteries to her heart's content, the Jedi was nothing if not practical.

     "Kyle's a good guy at heart just...rough around the edges." Really rough. "Mercenary work for him seems to be a way to root out hidden Force sensitives without attracting too much unwanted attention, I think. He's gathering students for a new academy, it looks like. Fortunately, minus the more unsavory practises, anyway. You can't tell me any lasting good can come from tearing families apart to train a Force-sensitive child, dangers of the Dark Side or otherwise." That was one thing she wouldn't compromise on, which to their credit, Kyle and his mysterious "Skywalker" seemed to be in agreement on.

     "Naturally," Revan agreed. "That's not to say they don't have them at all, though...just not advertise them. I've aided my fair share of similar people, and some have been destitute rag-tag rebels while others have had outside backing that the governments or other entities keep quiet for plausible deniability. Not having at least some small base of operations -- even a mobile one -- for necessary maintenance is...unusual. At least in my experience." A rebellion, no matter how passionate, needed necessary supplies and equipment. Even small guerilla forces needed food, clothing, shelter, and weapons. There had to be at least some chain of logistics if they planned to keep fighting. It was for that reason that Darth Revan had targeted supply chains specifically; not as fear-inspiring as wiping out cities filled with civilians, but much more effective from a military perspective. Not very befitting a Sith Lord, but even her Dark Side persona had pragmatic to a fault.

     The Jedi nodded. "Well before the Empire, the galaxy was a mixed bag. There were pockets of similar oppression where the local government was the law, but it wasn't exactly what one would call 'good'. Taris was like that even before Sith occupation; wealthy humans in the Upper City, aliens and the poor relegated to the Lower City, and criminals, the descendants of criminals, and the absolute destitute in the Undercity. It would be difficult to mourn the Sith bombardment except for all the innocent lives it took."

     "I'll work on it," she replied, offering a rueful smile. "I might have to engage in that most dreadful of practices: diplomacy. Well, and some bribery."

     One more sigh. "I'll look through it...there has to be something we can cobble together, if only for the short term." She paused to address the tiny shinki over her comm. "Ulaire, head down to the cargo hold, see if there's anything we can jury-rig. Leave the podracer, though..."

     Revan stopped, eyebrows raised as it registered. "Wait...you got a podracer? Since when?"

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  Galen cocks his head at the mention of Jedi taking children away from their families to train them. He scowls even more deeply. "No. That's probably not a good thing. That's what happened to me, although the circumstances were probably a little different."

  Juno squinches one thumb and forefinger together in sarcastic agreement. Just a /little/ different. Similar, but not similar enough to compare scenarios.

  Galen stoically ignores her, although she leans her head on his shoulder. "Not to me," Juno says, with a shrug. "I'm pretty used to not having any base of operations at all, at least in terms of having a safe place to repair the Rogue Shadow. I really don't trust Malastare, and I really wouldn't consider it unless it were an emergency." Unfortunately, the state of the starship's engine is close enough to 'emergency' that she isn't willing to let it go much further than its current state.

  The blonde pilot lets her eyelids droop to half-mast, keeping half her attention on the visiting Jedi. It is her ship, effectively, and she is sort of paranoid about its interior workings. With good reason. It's basically her home at this point.

  "Mmm," she murmurs. "Short term is fine. Most of what I fix is a short term solution at this point. I don't have the resources for long term repairs any more. As to that... heh, heh. That's for me to know and you to find out. Actually, Vader ordered me to do that, once upon a time. It was a test of my engineering ability, and also something of a brainteaser. I was supposed to reconstruct for him something of 'cultural significance' to the planet Tattooine. So I did. Podracing's huge, there. It's where the Boonta Eve Classic is held. I'm pretty sure it doesn't run in its current state, but someday it might. Maybe I can sell it to a racer," she murmurs, because she'd have to be crazy to try and drive that thing herself. Crazy, and suicidal.

Revan (414) has posed:
"To the Masters' credit, we weren't killed off when we failed," Lowri admitted. "Although the Korriban Academy was certainly fond of 'Succeed Or Die'." And boy, were they ever pissed at her in the end. Having to lightsaber the entire way to the docks through a whole school of angry Sith was something she would prefer not to have to repeat. "Speaking of when hitting things is a necessity, they weren't too inclined to talk things out like reasonable people."

     "Maybe," she admitted. "But you can't blame me for worrying." Not exactly a very Jedi thing to do, but she was still human, and she preferred it that way.

     This time, the Jedi stifled her sigh. "I'll find some way to get the parts. And at least Tiny can perform the outside repairs...that's better than nothing."

     "There's not a whole lot to do on Tatooine /but/ race," Lowri quipped dryly. "Aside from hunting Krayt dragons and dodging Tusken Raiders, anyway. In my time, it's all about swoop racing, though with podracing being even more insane, they probably needed something even more adrenaline-inducing."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  "Heh. That's not the case with Vader. Vader can't stand failure, and his reaction to failure is pretty consistent," Juno mumbles from Galen's shoulder. "Galen's last pilot was late for a summons from Vader. The pilot died. Probably painfully, and probably messily, I'd imagine."

  On the matter of outside repairs, Juno makes a soft sound of agreement. "Actually, the outside repairs are helpful. That's one of the things I can't do in our current state. Not without some kind of safe harbour or drydock."

  The blonde pilot closes her eyes, although she still seems to be listening.

  "Don't forget the Jawas. Or trying to get sand out of your everything," Galen adds, sourly. "I don't mind the heat, but I'm starting to hate sand. It makes such a mess with lightsaber assemblies if it gets in them..."

  Juno snorts, eyes still closed. "Maybe. According to Juno, they say there was exactly one human podracer who managed to race, survive, /and/ win. We don't know who he was, though. The records are a little spotty for some reason. Otherwise, it's an alien sport. A human can't physiologically react in time at those speeds. I admire the machinery, but even I'm not suicidal enough to say I could use it."

Revan (414) has posed:
Her memories from before waking up on the Endar Spire might have been hazy, but Revan was fairly certain she hadn't zapped a subordinate for being late. At least, not fatally. The Dark Lord had been all about efficiency, and one couldn't very well be efficient when one kept killing off all the subordinates. Malak, on the other hand...

     "My apprentice was like that," she admitted. "I mentioned the Taris bombardment before. Well, he was the one who ordered it. The search for a single Jedi must have been taking too long for his liking."

     The Guardian leaned back against the bulkhead with a relieved smile. "Good to know we're of some use, at least."

     She snorted softly in amusement."I suppose Jawas would be dangerous for anyone who can't refuse salespeople," she admitted. "All the sand's a real pain, though, no argument."

     As if remembering his penchant for experimenting with any rock-like object as a lightsaber crystal, she added, "Speaking of lightsabers and Tatooine, only krayt dragon pearls work as crystals. Anything else out of a random desert cave is liable to blow up in your face."

     Her smile was rueful, but with a hint of humour, as if her next words weren't especially serious. "Pity, that. Swoop racing was a rather fun past-time...not to mention a decent and /mostly/ non-violent way to earn some credits. Looks like I've been edged out of a lucrative racing career in the distant future."

     The Jedi eyed Juno, a slight frown marring her brow. "If you need to knock out, go ahead. You could use the rest."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
  Maybe Galen can guess at the Jedi's thoughts by the look on her face, or maybe he's using just a pinch of unconscious Force-sensitivity to cheat. Given how general his experience with the Force is, though, he's probably just watching her expression. Galen seems to have on capacity for or desire to influence minds using the Force. He's not a subtle man.

  He frowns slightly. "Well, he can afford to. People are still recruited into the Imperial military branches in droves... so losing a subordinate here or there isn't really a setback to him. That never sat well with me, even when I was an Inquisitor." Maybe there's some hope for Galen Marek yet. "I was instructed not to leave any witnesses in my missions. I followed my instructions, but I didn't like them."

  Shifting his weight with the utmost care, Galen adjusts his arm so Juno can rest more comfortably against him. The blonde pilot cracks an eye open and then closes it again, listening but not bothering to reply. It may be she's letting herself drift; she looks exhausted, and exhaustion seems to be an alarmingly regular state for her.

  Tilting his head a little, Galen eyes Revan, a little speculatively. "Uh huh. I haven't gotten my hands on a krayt dragon pearl, but maybe some time. She can get parts in Tattooine; I'd be more afraid of her ruthless haggling than two suns and an entire desert planet trying to kill me."

  Juno snorts, softly, just enough to suggest she's still awake and listening.

  "I haven't even heard of swoop racing," Galen offers. "It must've died out a long time ago. Enough that people have mostly forgotten about it, and podracing's completely replaced it. You, and a lot of other people. There are some good pilots out there, and of course there's this one, too, but I don't think even Juno could keep up with that kind of input needed. Maybe on a straightaway, but even that makes me worry. There wouldn't be much left if she crashed at those kinds of speeds... even if it's hard to think of Juno actually crashing something. She's the best pilot I know."

  "And you're biased," she murmurs from his shoulder.

  Galen, for his part, grin. "Of course I am."

  "Sorry," Juno adds to Revan. "I think I'm going to have to take you up on that. I'm exhausted. I've been going over the ship all day, and also keeping an eye on the sensors."

  Galen shrugs. "I should take the opportunity to rest, too. I'm not going to be very useful to you in here. Juno knows more about my own ship than I do," he adds, with a grimace. He pushes to his feet, before reaching down and scooping Juno up into his arms; unconsciously, she throws an arm around his neck to brace herself. "We'll be back in a little while. Help yourself to anything we've got in the ship if you get hungry or thirsty while you're here... and thanks. You've been good to us."

  Juno cracks an eye open enough to smile and give a mocking two-fingered salute, flicking her wrist with military precision. "Aye aye, sir. I'll get some rest, sir. Do what you need to do to the engines," she adds. "Though if I find out you broke something, I'll strangle you myself," she adds, sweetly.

  Galen rolls his eyes and sighs as he carries the blonde pilot away.