2365/Battle Plans

Battle Plans
Date of Scene:	01 June 2015
Location:	Flotilla Space
Synopsis:	The crew of the Rogue Shadow come to a decision about what to do to repair the ship's critical damage: A bold, possibly even suicidal, plan... but the best plans are risky, aren't they?
Cast of Characters:	428, 731

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Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The lights are dimmed in the shipyard of the AMATERASU lunar mining facility. Although a useful place to process the liquid Erchius used to fuel spacecraft in this region of space, it's been more useful to Galen Marek and Juno Eclipse as a place to lay low and hide – and more importantly, to make repairs to the critically damaged Rogue Shadow.

It had gotten them back to the lunar base, but the ship is in terrible shape. Over the past week, Juno's been steadily burning the midnight oil systematically taking apart the starboard engine and trying to jury rig it back together again, to the best of her admittedly considerable ability. She's only human in the end, though, and there's only so much she can do. The engine was all but destroyed. That she's gotten it functional at all is a wonder in and of itself, although the ship won't be outrunning very much in its current state.

But the stygium crystals have held. It can still hide, which has always been the Rogue Shadow's singularly unique talent.

Now, after spending far too much time doggedly taking the ship apart, the pilot and mechanic is leaned against the outer hull, slumped and enjoying the cool radiating from the durasteel. A selection of tools are spread out beside her, and several unidentifiable chunks of engine components spread out beside her.

PROXY is shuffling around nearby, presumably tasked to deal with minor tasks that won't require Juno's immediate supervision.

For now she seems uninterested in working any more, leaned back and enjoying what looks and smells like a cup of coffee.

Which is, with the stimulants, probably the only thing that's kept her running through the week. When she sets her mind to a task, she pursues it to the exclusion of all else. Good, in a pinch... but bad, when it comes to minding herself.

Of course, if nagged on that front, her answer is pretty simple – they can't afford to stop right now; not with the Galactic Empire and their Confederate allies potentially breathing down the traitors' necks.

"PROXY." Juno tilts her head back, resting it against the Rogue Shadow's hull.

"Yes, Captain Eclipse?"

"Don't worry about that for right now. Do me a favour; see if you can go find Galen."

The droid stands there for a moment.

"Your master. Bring him to me; I need to talk to him."

"Oh. Yes, Captain Eclipse. Right away." The droid shuffles off, to all appearances cheerful.

Must be nice to have such a simplistic, black-and-white existence, she thinks, somewhat bitterly, as she watches PROXY shuffle off in search of the former Sith assassin.

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
It wouldn't take PROXY long to locate Galen. It never does, after all. As he sits meditating in the room he and Juno were assigned, the droid enters without any sort of hesitation. "Captain Eclipse requires your presense at the Rogue Shadow," he says, the droid seeming as he always does. Galen tears his mind back to reality, nodding and standing up. "Right. Any word on—"

PROXY's gone already, probably plotting some sort of divebomb murder attempt on his master or something. The man chuckles a bit, collecting his thoughts. They were going to need the Rogue Shadow to mount any sort of defense against the Empire, but they were also going to need Galen's strength.

The Shadow is Juno's power. Galen's mind and body were his. And so, while Juno has been going at the Shadow like a madwoman on a mission, Galen has been training and meditating. His clothes, a short-sleeved gray robe today, reflect his separation from the Empire, but also his growing into the role of Galen Marek.

It wouldn't be long before he was able to shed the title of Starkiller forever. Or so he hoped.

He makes his way to the shipyard, his footfalls ever silent, perhaps even more so due to his recent training. She probably wouldn't know he was there until she spotted him, and he'd be pretty close before then. "How's the ship looking, Juno?" he asks, casting an eye over the battle-scarred ship.

At least he and his ship had something in common now, light scars seeming to shine in the low light of the yard across his arms.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
His approach is silent, as it always is. Even his breathing is quiet, with nothing to give him away; no rustle of clothing, no sound of boot treads against the shipyard's metal deck plating. It probably comes as no surrpise to him that she jumps, staring up at him in vague annoyance.

...How does he do that?

"Galen." It's a clumsy recovery attempt and she knows it, even as she pushes herself to her feet. Though ordinarily graceful, she's spent the last week digging in the Rogue Shadow like a person obsessed, and she's rewarded for her sudden movement by the snap, crackle, and pop of abused limbs, wincing slightly. "Looks like PROXY found you after all. Where's PROXY?"

Damn. There goes her assistant. Off to plot his next move against Galen, no doubt, which means he won't be around for her to make use of. Ah, well. She shakes her head dismissively.

A gesture beckons him close, toward the engine she'd been leaning against. Where Galen is scarred, the ship is simply devastated along one side; she's done her best to scour out the worst of the cosmetic damage, but without the correct materials, there's just nothing she can do about the worst of the structural damage. Even jury-rigging the engines back to life is almost stretching her considerable abilities.

"Not very good," she sighs, looking up at the ship in clear disappointment. Folding her arms, the gesture seems more one of vulnerability than confidence; not having the Rogue Shadow at peak condition is worrying. It's their only real advantage when it comes to avoiding the Empire's wrath – or that of their former Confederate allies. "I think I've gotten the starboard engine stable, but we won't be outrunning much beyond a garbage scow at this point. If I push that engine, it's going to break down again, and the next time, I won't be able to fix it."

Reaching up, she rakes her fingers through her hair, considering as she looks up to the ship. "I've done everything I can, but not having the right components... this ship is too modified. I could replace what's here with stock parts, but then it wouldn't be the Rogue Shadow any more. And quite frankly, we need to be able to outrun the whole bloody Navy, right now." Juno frowns. "We've only got one option. It's insane, and I don't like it, but I'm not seeing any alternatives. Not if we're to rely on this ship again. I can't keep relying on the Flotilla," she adds, quietly, "not in good conscience. We're only lucky we haven't been followed here."

Her arms fold. "What we need to do," she murmurs, "is get this ship fixed... and then we need to strike back at the Empire." Juno shakes her head, laughing bitterly. "Look at me. I've gone from the model Imperial officer to a traitor, and now I'm even contemplating rebellion against the Empire itself. Isn't it funny how things work out?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen chuckles politely as Juno jumps. He never really notices his silence, or he does it just to mess with her. Could be a little of both on some level. Hard to say. "He'll wander back eventually," he says, taking up real estate on the wall opposite her, "He always does. I just hope it's not with lightsaber in hand." He crosses his arms across his chest, shaking his head. He looks a little careworn, but nowhere near as exhausted as she does. "I hate the fact you have to work like this, but once we get away for good we can finally relax," he says, eyes peering out at her for a moment.

When he follows her to the engine, he winces. The ship is in horrendous shape. The engine is jury-rigged, the hull has been largely destroyed along the same side, and Galen's eyes show the pain at seeing the Shadow like this. But Juno makes a good point. They needed the materials and parts to repair the ship proper. And that meant hitting Imperial supply lines. He smirks slightly, hand moving down to brush the lightsaber on his belt.

"We need Imperial parts. And not just any Imperial parts. You know where we can get them, right?" he asks, "Get us there, and I'll take care of the rest. I'm sure we have some allies to help us, too." He moves toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Let's do what needs to be done, deal with the Empire, and truly win our freedom. We'll handle this like we do any mission. Where are we headed?"

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Although he can sneak up on her, she can hardly do the same to the former assassin – he has the Force to help him sense when someone approaches him with any specific intent; besides that, the Force would presumably help him sense when there are any sorts of life forms around him. Or does he?

...How does that work, anyway? Some time, when they aren't busy running for their lives in some capacity or another, she really ought to ask him taht.

"Can't you do something about that?" Juno arches a brow, eyeing Galen somewhat speculatively. "I mean, I appreciate that it's his primary programming, and far be it for me to muddle around with a droid's personality simply because I can, but... we have more important things to deal with. Far more important things." Something stormy creeps into her eyes and her expression. "And if he actually manages to hurt you..." She won't hesitate to have him junked and sent to Raxus Prime.

If there's pain in Galen's eyes at the sight of his precious ship, he can only imagine what Juno must be feeling. He might own the ship, but she's the one that pilots it, tunes it, maintains it, and deals with the fallout against it when things go wrong like this. And seeing such a bleeding-edge ship having to limp along like this is nothing short of heart-rending to both the engineer and pilot in her. It's terrible.

She gives the hull a sympathetic pat, sighing at the weight of his hand on her shoulder. "I know what we need. The problem is getting hold of it. You're right; we're going to need Imperial parts, and not just any Imperial parts."

"Sienar Fleet Systems handles most of the Empire's starship needs; what isn't handled by them is constructed in Kuat Drive Yards... but it's Sienar that manufactures the TIE Fighters and all of their variants. They're also the ones that were contracted to built the Rogue Shadow."

She gives the hull a pat again, this time demonstrative; the sound of her gloved palm against it hollow. "I'm fairly certain it was Vader who originally contracted the Rogue Shadow, but it was Sienar Fleet Systems that handled all aspects of its development and prototyping. Sienar Fleet Systems has a number of advanced research facilities throughout the Core Worlds."

"We're going to Corulag." Going by her tone of voice, it's the most grudging admission ever. Wasn't that where she was originally from? "That's where the Rogue Shadow was developed; I'm certain of it. They have a facility there, and it's quite a large one." Her shoulders slump, and she sighs. "It's going to be unreasonably well-guarded. We're going to need allies for this, I think. And we'll need the Rogue Shadow, too."

"We can't outrun anything right now. But the stygium crystals are still fully functional. We can still hide – and we'll need to."

She turns to face him, eyeing him speculatively. "I can provide a list of what we need, and images as well... but can I trust you to be discrete about it? This isn't going to be the same as wading into a horde off stormtroopers, Galen. They're going to be smarter than that. And the entire Empire's already looking for us..."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen chuckles. "Sure, I could probably find someone to override that directive. But to be honest, he keeps me in shape. As long as he doesn't catch me off guard, I can handle him the way he is," he says, smirking, "Besides. I grew up with him like this. It'd be like putting down a pet or something if I changed him, you know?" He shakes his head. "He won't hurt me, and if he does, well you'll just have to get a new droid won't you?" He knows PROXY's fate if Galen were to actually come to harm. Small pieces doesn't begin to explain it.

As she explains the origins of the ship, Galen nods. So they would have to hit Sienar Fleet Systems. That would be a difficult feat for any force, as it was the supplier of the majority of the Imperial fleet ships. However, the smile doesn't die from Galen's lips. If anything, it only widens. Then she says Corulag, and that's when the smile falters.

That was her homeworld. And it was also the Shadow's birthplace? Talk about coincidences.

Galen is many things, but subtle is not often one of them. However, the look in her eyes tells him he'll need to be ready to BE subtle. He laughs softly, running a hand across his head. "Yeah, I can do this," he says. "It seems like a waste not to deal a blow to the Empire once we have what we need, though. Your call on that one."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Juno turns, eyeing Galen with an almost accusatory expression. There are so many accusatory things she could say to that, almost all of them boiling down to, And what if he does catch you off your guard? Where does that leave me? In the end she only shakes her head, as though she were trying to share in his confidence.

"Maybe." She looks over to the ship again, already thinking ahead, to the looming catastrophe. It will be a catastrophe; that much she's certain of. While Galen is certainly capable of stealth, once things start getting hot, he loses all pretense at subtlety.

Corulag, definitely. There's no mistaking the planet she indicates, and the aura of frustration and misery hvoering about her would make it clear if her wording didn't. It's the last place she wants to go back to. When she graduated from the Imperial Academy and left the planet, she had expected to have left it forever.

"I hope you're not just trying to reassure me. The priority is still getting away. We can deal a blow to the Empire after we get away," she states, shaking her head, slashing an arm outward in a clear gesture of refusal. "Remember that I'm still going to need to work on the ship. And as it is now, it's not going to outrun any potential pursuit. I'm fairly certain even a TIE would outrun us right now, if they were burning their sublights hard enough."

She wouldn't make it easy for them, of course, but escaping would still be almost impossible. Not without crippling the rest of the ship.

Turning away from the hull, she reaches up, laying a hand on his shoulder in a gesture of... it's hard to say what, exactly. Reassurance, maybe; though less for him, and more for herself.

"Then we're going to Corulag." Shaking her head, she sighs, and the laugh it trails into is faint and somewhat bleak. "Why couldn't it be somewhere away from prying Imperial eyes? The Mid Rim territories, maybe? Or even better, the Outer Rim. But no. We, two people for whom the Empire is literally putting bounties out for our heads, are going to sneak right into the heart of Imperial territory." She drops her head, leaning it against her shoulder' leaning on him. "Bloody Corulag..."

Well, it's not a great place to go, but that's not the only reason she's avoiding it. "You know," she murmurs from his robes, "grey suits you."

And then, a moment later, "My father is a civilian engineer. But if he so much as suspects I've come back to the planet, he'll call the entire Empire down on our heads. He's... loyal only to the Empire," she murmurs. "It's another layer of complication I just don't need. I'm hoping it won't come up at all; he shouldn't have any reason to be anywhere near Sienar's installation, not unless Sienar's doing a bit of extra contracting."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen frowns slightly, sensing a bit of Juno's accusations. He doesn't speak on them as she glances over them as well, but this would be a sticking point. PROXY was like his brother. His... crazy, Cain-style robotic brother. He couldn't change that, and that was something he would defend.

Maybe. Probably.

Galen chuckles. "I know, I know. In and out with the parts, then hit the hyperspace like we were... well, thieves." He blinks. That's what they were, after all, by the time they were done with this mission. However, that didn't ruffle him at all. He wanted to lash back out at the Empire that betrayed them. He wanted to strike them. But he would settle for some grand theft spaceship parts for now.

For now.

As Juno mentions her father on Corulag, his grip on his shoulder tightens ever so slightly. Rather than try something heartfelt to make her feel better about the trip, he falls back on his traditional response.

"What, don't want your dad to meet me or something?" he teases, before shaking his head. "Imperial loyalists are our enemies. Even if he did call the entire Empire, I'd fight them back and we'd escape again." He puts his other hand to his chin. "Maybe we should avoid that happening. A blaster might be in order over the lightsaber for this one. Or maybe someone here could lend me a weapon in case things go south. With a bit of a disguise, I can make this work."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"In with the parts, and then we burn sky until we see lines," Juno scolds, snorting softly. "No theatrics, no messages to send them. Not yet. We'll have plenty of opportunity to do that, and to send them eloquent messages, but later. When the Rogue Shadow is whole again. I'll be happy to stick it to the Empire, but not when we're vulnerable. This ship is one-of-a-kind. If something happens to it that I can't repair, it's gone."

She looks back to the ship, frownign in worry. Poor ship. She really does take it personally, doesn't she? It had been orders, once upon a time, but she had always taken pride in her work – and now, it's something that belongs to him, so that lends that much more imperative to keeping it in good condition. And it's something of a home, to her, as well.

When his hand tightens over her shoulder, her head bows; acknowledging his gesture. She reaches up to rest a gloved hand over his arm, squeezing a little.

Thanks, her returning gesture seems to say.

"If you knew my father, you wouldn't want to be on the same planet as him, either." Juno snorts, leaning against the onetime Sith assassin. "Colthe Eclipse was a good man, once. I'm sure of it. I have to be. After my mother died... and I'm not convinced the Empire didn't have a hand in that... he became withdraw. Even more zealously devoted to the Empire. I wouldn't have minded if he'd taken his unhappiness out on me, but eventually it reached the point where he didn't even notice me." She shrugs one shoulder. "I stopped trying to gain his approval. I left Corulag when I graduated the Imperial Academy." She smiles; the expression is somewhat bleak. "I haven't been back since."

One hand reaches back to pat the ship. "But for the Rogue Shadow, I'd take those parts from my father himself."

There's a long pause.

And then she smacks him, although it's not meant to hurt; nor could she, considering the difference in their abilities. Juno snorts, although it's all bluster, with no real annoyance. "I don't give a damn what my father thinks. You can talk to him if you see him, but he won't care, you know." She makes a thoughtful sound. "I always thought I'd earn his respect, setting an example in the Imperial Navy. I suppose it goes to show you can't win them all, hmm?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen nods. "Right, right. No blowing the shipyard skyhigh. No lightsaber duels with Jedi on TIE Fighters. No daring daylight robberies on rancor-back," he says, rolling his eyes slightly. "I get it. In and out, quick as lightning. Seems basic enough." So long as Vader himself doesn't show up. That would be a terribly unfortunate thing to happen, because then there would be an epic duel of the Force going on. The odds are low for that, though. Surely.

Galen chuckles darkly. "There are many people that I wouldn't want to share a planet with. The feeling is usually mutual, and one of us usually doesn't last very long," he says, shrugging slightly. She knew his body of work, and what that comment surely meant. He smiles as she squeezes his arm, listening to her intently. Her father had taken to ignoring her and becoming an Imperial zealot? Suddenly her spotless Imperial record made a ton more sense. Raised in that sort of household is bound to have an effect on a person. Sort of like being raised by Vader, one might argue.

"I kind of get that. I don't really know my father, but you know my surrogate and what he trained me for," he says, "I almost wish he would've ignored me, come to think of it." He tanks the slap with a laugh, shaking his head. "No... you certainly can't win them all."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"I suppose you could get away with a rancor, if only because I don't think even stormtroopers would be stupid enough to shoot one with blasters. I'd hope not, anyway." Juno chuckles. Rancor hide is tough enough to repel even blaster bolts, so shooting them only enrages an already ill-tempered beast.

Not that rancors have any other setting other than "rage," anyway. Even Juno would be hard-pressed to find something more cranky in the galaxy.

Leaning back, Juno squints at Galen, suspicious. "Maybe. Except you also wind up taking about a quarter of the planet out in the process, too. You're not a subtle creature." She gives his arm a pat. "But, that's alright. I suppose one of us has to be blindingly obvious." Explosions and lightsabers and all.

"Vader isn't exactly the best parental figure in the galaxy," she adds, with a bleak half-smile, giving one broad shoulder a pat. "It's alright, though. You're free of him, now. We both are. We're free to go where we want; do what we will. Even if that means challenging the Empire... I'll do it. If we don't, who will? How many other civilians have to die by their hand, without ever having had a chance?"

She looks to the ship again, before shaking her head and sighing, folding her arms in that vulnerable gesture again. "The Rebellion fights them, but it's a piecemeal resistance. A few strikes here, a few strikes there. I almost get the impression their leadership, if they have any, just doesn't know what to do. Like they're hesitant to issue any direct challenge, but they still want a symbolic strike... we might consider talking to them, some time, if we can ever find them. We'd have a lot of common ground, I think."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen chuckles. "Lute might lend me one if you ask him for me," he says. He would not really ride anywhere on Rancor-back.

Right?

Galen snorts slightly. "I can do stealth. I mean, if there's no one left to see me, I'm being completely stealthy, right?" He shoots her a sardonic grin. Even he knows that she's right. He's the master of collateral damage. The Empire probably had a massive reciept with his name on it if they actually cared to check. He had left trails of debris and stormtroopers in his wake. "Brains and brawn, stealth and power," he says, shrugging, "I guess we really sort of need each other, huh?" He offers a more genuine smile now.

As Juno touches on the Rebellion and their scattered forces, Galen's mind begins turning. He had wondered about the leader of the Rebellion, or leaders as the case may be. Uniting them under a single front for a true threat to the Empire... could that be done? A leader that was a member of the Empire at one point might lend a bit of structure and purpose to their random strikes.

"Free to lead the Rebellion..." he murmers, though it's loud enough for her to hear. "Of course, that's just one path I guess..."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Maybe, but those are his babies. Honestly, the man might be a complete failure when it comes to interpersonal relationships with people, but he's devoted to his monsters. Creatures," she corrects herself. "They're more than just dangerous beasts, to him; they're individuals, and he treats them as such."

She looks aside, smiling a little sadly. "It's a little sad, really. I feel sorry for him. He wants so badly to fit in somewhere, to have a purpose and place, and it seems to rule every aspect of him... but he doesn't realise he already has one." Looking back to the ship, she spares a quick glance to Galen. "I met with him at the Bar and Grill, briefly. I wanted to tell him what had actually happened."

"He's a Confederate, and so I can't fully trust him. I think he might be more than just talk, though. He's confided in me that he'd be willing to fight against the Empire for my sake, because he considers me a friend. It's sweet of him, but I don't think he truly understands just what that entails." She lays a gloved hand flat against the Rogue Shadow's cold durasteel hull, splaying her fingers over it, as though she could feel all of the things wrong with the ship through touch alone. "If he's not all talk, though... he's a potential ally. It's worth keeping in mind, once a little of the publicity blows over."

She drums her fingers against the Rogue Shadow's hull, already looking for the next thing to get into, when her thoughts are brought up short by his shrug and statement.

"It's not stealth if they're all dead, dummy. Someone else is inevitably going to find the wreckage." The look she shoots him is withering, but not serious; it's offset by her somewhat sarcastic smile. Turning, she prods him in the shoulder with a forefinger. "And you're right. You do need me. I have no doubt you or PROXY would've flown the ship through a moon or something by now if I weren't here to pilot it for you."

Circling her arms around him, she leans on him; she's also thinking it over as she lays her head on his shoulder.

Oh, there are plenty who would stand up to the Empire. Give them reason enough, and the oppressed will rise up, no matter the culture or era they come from; eventually, the people will decide as a whole that enough is enough. It's no different within the Galactic Empire, where Palpatine's seemingly objective rule quickly became a dictatorship, enforced by the iron-clad fist of his right-hand man, Vader.

Even so... with the right motivation, and the right direction and guidance, those scattered rebels could be forged into a truly worthy force; a united army of one mind and one will, using tactics and knowledge of the Empire to their advantage, and striking the Empire where it would hurt the most.

"Lead them?" She raises a brow, looking up to Galen. "I think you're getting a bit overambitious, there." The pilot chews her lower lip, thoughtfully. "I'm not going to rule it out, but I think we have our hands full just with surviving, at the moment."

"One path among many." She lets her eyes half-close, comfortable; although her mind is still industriously working at the problem. "Don't Force-users get glimpses of the future, sometimes...? Maybe you'll get some insight through the Force, or... something." She shrugs, somewhat helplessly. "I don't know. I've no notion of how that even works. At least, I've never found a hypothesis that explains it..."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen leans back a bit, head resting against the bulkhead. "Lute... is an odd person, our intimidation session aside. Far too intuitive and yet... He's smart, but stupid at the same time. If he's willing to offer aid, I wouldn't begrudge him for it. Though, his position in the Confederacy would make that difficult, yes." He smirks softly. "That's fine. Your life is yours. If you feel safe telling him things, then I'll trust you on that. Any potential allies are going to help at this point."

Not that he really cared for Lute. If he turned out to be more loyal to the Confederacy and tried to turn them over to the Empire instead, Galen would kill him. But Juno trusted him enough to talk to him, so that was enough for him right now.

Galen laughs. "Did you just call me dummy?" he asks, his voice tinged with amusement, "But I suppose you make a fair point. I'm a decent enough pilot, you know. But the other pilots... alright, another point to you." She leans in and hugs him, and his arms similarly envelope her. His chin rests lightly on the top of her head. He had been, essentially, the third in the hierarchy. Palpatine. Vader. Starkiller the Enforcer. Most in the Empire had feared him, feared the secret authority he wielded as effortlessly as he did the Force. It was gone now, though. And here, holding Juno without fear of people finding out anymore, he was glad he traded that life away.

"Maybe," he says, "but the Rebellion could do with people like us. We know the Empire, and how to strike them most effectively. Maybe leading is a bit out of bounds, but uniting them... that would be the fastest way to deal with the Empire." As for future sight...

"If I've had any, I don't really remember them. But if I have them, it will be a nice way to have a path to follow anyway," he says, rubbing her back gently. "Hypothesis?" he says, laughing, "I'm a great space wizard, right?"

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"He's smart, and he's stupid." Juno shrugs, somewhat helplessly. "Some people are like that. I'd say I suspect George is a little like that, sometimes, but at the same time I have the impression that he's much more focused and sharp than he lets on. I almost wonder what his story is, but I'm not certain I really want to know the details."

For the Flotilla members to lead such a sometimes-desperate existence, it's both possible and highly probable that they all have hard-luck stories.

"Anyway, while I'd be willing to accept his offer in any other situation, the simple truth is that I don't know if I can trust him. He's loyal to the people he considers friends, and he's certainly willing to show his teeth to the Empire on my behalf. But what about the Confederacy? We're refugees from them, too, and I'm not certain he's willing to test his loyalty to them over me. They're like family to him, dysfunctional as it may be."

Rubbing at her jaw, she eventually shakes her head, sighing and slumping against him. "I suppose I can think on it. In the meantime, letting him know that I'm still alive is a courtesy, and I can gauge his reactions whenever I've got the opportunity to speak to him."

Did she just call him a dummy? Juno smiles, a broad, easy smile. "Yes, Galen, I did, because you have all the subtlety of a II-class Star Destroyer. Actually, I think those might have a little finesse." The smile fades. "To put it another way, Vader would point you at a place or situation, and you would obediently leave behind inordinate amounts of wreckage, human or otherwise."

Decent enough pilot? She just stares at him, very flatly. If you're such a great pilot, the look seems to say, then why have you had no less than eight of them flying the ship for you?

Shivering, she huddles a little closer to him. It's cold in the shipyard; but how much of that is nerves, she's not sure. What they're planning to do is madness. It's insane. Only a desperate person would even consider such a thing. If the Empire gets hold of them, they'll wish they'd been killed in action instead; thinking on what Vader would do to them is the stuff that nightmares are made of.

Even so, for him to be able to hold her, to reassure her by his simple presence, is something more precious than she can put to words. It's worth it just for that. To be able to know that she will never again have to lead another Bombing of Callos; to wipe out another entire planet just because someone on it might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time – there's no relief quite like that.

"We know the Empire," she agrees, slowly. "It's one thing to provide information like that, information only a former Imperial would know. It's another to convince them that we're worthy of their trust. After all, we might well be spies or saboteurs, to them, and I wouldn't blame them at all for a perspective like that." Juno shrugs one shoulder. "It's what I would believe, if I were in their position; that's only reasonable."

Still... if they could get into the good graces of an organisation like that, it would be worth it. They could accomplish great things, together, and strike demoralising, symbolic blows against the Empire.

"If we could find them and gain their trust... then that might be worth it to us, and also to them." Her eyes hood; she leans into him at the touch against her back. Just the way she leans on him suggests she's probably running on fumes. Almost all of her energy, time, and effort has gone into jury-rigging the ship back into some sort of configuration where the damaged engine won't explode the minute the ship's drives are powered up again.

What irony, that they need to fly the very ship that needs repairs, just to get hold of the parts needed to fix it. The Slice Hound wouldn't do; it has no cloaking device, and Imperial sensors and traffic monitoring would pick it out as foreign in a heartbeat... and the Empire doesn't like foreign.

Leaning on him, she looks up at him, smiling a little; as though to reassure him at his lack of foresight. "Keep at it, then. Maybe if you have faith, it'll come to you. Something I'm afraid I'm not very good at. Doubting? Oh, yes, I'm excellent at doubting." A forefinger jabs him in the chest again before it returns to circling around him. "But you and your physics-defying nonsense, I'm afraid that's just not my area of expertise. Give me a good hyperdrive and a hydrospanner in my hand any day of the week... but not that."

"Maybe," she murmurs, "someday, when things are more settled down, you can actually tell me how that nonsense works. Or, even better, you can show me. You know, I've always wanted to know... how that looks from your perspective. How you sense things. What things 'look' like to you, when you see them with the Force..." Too bad she's about as Force-sensitive as a fencepost. "I've always wondered."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen smirks. "I've been trained to hunt Rebels," he says, "to an extent, I mean. If one of their leaders happens to be a Jedi, I might be able to sniff out a group to start with." Of course, the legend of Starkiller has likely spread across their galaxy. Surely they would be met with a bit of resistence. Ironic, that he would have to be resisted becoming a Rebel. Not that it mattered to him. Any Jedi powerful enough to lead the Rebels would be able to read his intentions like a book, and he would let them as a show of trust.

Galen chuckles again, nodding against her slightly. "I suppose it can't hurt. Opening my mind a bit to the Force and hoping for the best. Now that I'm not hiding anything, I can be a little more receptive to the influences." He laughs a bit more at her description of his skills, squeezing her a bit as he does. "Yet another sort of completionist relationship we have," he notes, "You're the master of the tech, and I handle the more... Force side of things. I'm about as handy with technology as a moss-covered rock."

He smiles softly, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "Sure," he says, "I can do that. But for now, you need a nap. If we're going to limp the Shadow into Imperial space, you need to be sharp. And no amount of coffee is going to be enough for that."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Considering how much hunting you've done in years past, I would have thought they'd be smart enough to hide their Jedi away, and not allow themselves to be baited out into the open." Juno considers. "Rather like us right now, actually. Only an idiot would be drawn out into the open, but I suppose we're in the same boat, really... it's just a matter of trust."

The Rebels wouldn't trust the former Imperials, which Juno wouldn't blame them for at all; but at the same time, there are very few people Juno herself trusts at the moment. The Flotilla, and of course Galen... but how far would a Rebel be willing to go? Would they turn the crew of the Rogue Shadow in for a bounty of their own, or political amnesty?

Maybe she's just borrowing trouble for herself, and worrying about things that haven't even come to pass. Sighing a frustrated little sigh, she rests the top of her head against his shoulder, looking down at the shipyard's deck plating underfoot and scowling. Everything's grown a great deal more complicated than she had ever expected it to, and part of her longs for the days when her greatest worry had been keeping her boots polished and her mind carefully blank for Vader.

At the same time, though... she could never go back, and she knows it. She is one woman, one mortal woman, with no connections or ties to the Force. Eventually he would have cracked her open like a walnut, and found all of her disillusionment, her discontentment; her distress and despair at the stifling bonds of Imperial service. She has no doubt that he would have struck her down, and Galen would have been training his ninth pilot.

Or perhaps he would have given himself freely to the Dark Side, then.

"Maybe," she murmurs, a little muffled by his tunic. "I have no idea how this works. Oh, you're not completely hopeless with technology. You're quite good at repairing PROXY every time you break him, and I'm certain that once upon a time, you must have been handy with the ship, at least out of necessity." She just happens to be much more detail-oriented, with a mind like a steel trap when it comes to the ship's function and form. "I imagine you could do what I do, given enough time; it's just a matter of getting yourself back into that mindset. And I've seen you take your lightsaber apart and put it back together again using nothing but the Force. That's pretty technologically savvy."

Not to mention the... well, it's not exactly fine motor control, considering he's using his mind to do it. What would you call that, anyway? Her mind skips a beat or two, trying to associate a term with it, but she eventually gives up. That kind of thing is well outside her area of expertise.

She sighs, closing her eyes as he rests his head over hers. Though hardly the type to feel the need for protection, something about having him so close makes her feel... safe. As though even Vader could come crashing into the shipyard, here, and she would still feel alright. Or at least not debilitatingly terrified like the thought of Vader usually makes her.

"No... no, I guess not." Juno chuckles, quietly. "I'm starting to hate the taste of caf and stimcaf, and I swear I can taste metal all the time from the stimulants I've been taking." She extends an arm, holding out her hand with fingers splayed; they're trembling, slightly, even though she seems to be calm. "I almost can't hold my hands steady any more."

She withdraws her hand. "Not a nap. A good, long sleep. I need that, before we go. I'll take sedatives if that's what I need to settle long enough to do that. I still have a few left from what George gave me." Trailing a hand down his arm before pulling away, she staggers slightly, finding her footing. "You're right. I can't fly like this, especially not in Imperial space."

"Come on." She gives a tug at his arm. "You too. If I go, you go. I'll give PROXY instructions for work he can do on the ship while we're asleep... but I need you to stay sharp, too. The last thing we need to do is risk this, and then you're tired and you took the wrong parts."

That would be terrible. Hilarious, in an awful sort of way, but terrible.

She gives his arm a final tug before heading towards the quarters, all but shuffling. Gone is her military posture or her brisk, confident movements; hers is the trudge of the truly exhausted, someone pushed to their limits and then beyond them. "Let's get some sleep," she mumbles. "I'm looking forward to that. It's even a real bed, too, and one we'll both fit on. Glory day." Yawning, she waves a hand dismissively at the ship. "I'll have it up and running by eleven hundred hours tomorrow. We'll leave a little after that once we're otherwise prepared..."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen frowns slightly. "Yeah, you have a point there. I have been on a mission to kill them, so finding them won't be easy in the slightest," he says, closing his eyes a bit. "We'll worry about the how later on. First things first. Corulag, then repairing the Shadow, and then we can strike at the Empire and figure out what to after all that is done." Focusing on one thing at a time was the only way to proceed for now. Worrying about the full Rebellion would only cause them panic at a time when they needed clarity.

Which is why he needed sleep as well. They needed rest for an assault for parts on Corulag. Especially if he was going to have to be stealthy. He'd need to disguise himself, or just try not to be seen. Both are difficult for the wanted ex-Sith. One would have to be the right answer, though.

"Well, my lightsaber is a part of me in a way," he says, smiling, "That's easy. And, maybe I could with enough time, but never to your quality." As he sees the shaking in her hand, he nods, letting her take his arm and offering his support. "Seriously, after all this, no more of this no sleeping thing. Seriously," he says, "It's not good on you." He stifles a yawn, poorly. Even when he was meditating, he was still taxing his mind pretty badly, and his training had taken its toll. While nowhere near her level of exhaustion, he was pretty tired himself.

He loops an arm around her shoulders, making their way back to their room. "PROXY can handle a lot of the prep work too. For now, sleep."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"They're going to be leery of us, no matter how you slice things. We've killed scores of rebels, and even several Jedi, too." Juno shakes her head, letting herself be led along towards their quarters. The idea of a nice, warm bed is almost too good to be true. "They haven't got much reason to trust us, but I suppose we've got to try."

Leaning against him as they walk, and trying not to stumble too badly, she hoods her eyes and considers the ship. Sienar Fleet Systems won't have that kind of material out in the open. It may take some industrious digging to find out where the components for the sublight are being stored, or failing that, schematics to have the components made for themselves. Schematics would definitely be acceptable, she decides, in the absence of the real thing.

"I guess your lightsaber's like my engineering tools, then. I'm not going to tell you any nonsense like 'they're part of me,' because they aren't, but I'm still quite familiar with them." Juno smiles, wearily. "I think I understand."

Insofar as she can understand any of that Force mysticism nonsense, anyway. She fumbles for a moment with the door once they've found the right one, wastes no time in kicking off her boots, and all but trips onto the bed. A proper bed, too; not a cot. The sheer luxury of it almost makes her laugh. She's been so involved in trying to fix the Rogue Shadow that she's been avoiding it, and hardly noticed it when she was there.

Yanking a fistful of blanket, she rolls onto her side, curls up to face the wall, and... unsurprisingly, perhaps, looks as though she's ready to sink into the bed itself.

"That's it from me," she mumbles, almost incoherently, muffled by virtue of curling up into the blanket. Which is also luxuriously soft, some part of her notes; a far cry from the standard issue grey woolen thing aboard the Rogue Shadow's crew quarters. "G'night, Galen. Don't wake me. 'Least not early. I'll tune the ship before we go, one last time... but... more important to sleep..."

If he tries to say anything to her, though, there won't be any answer forthcoming. Unsurprisingly, she's out like a light.

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen nods, yawning again. "Yeah, we'll just have to prove that we're trustworthy. That the Empire screwed us over as badly as it tries to screw them." He rolls his shoulders slightly, pushing the door open as she fumbles around with it for a bit. As she falls into the bed and pull the blanket over herself, he can feel her fading almost immediately. Words... he wouldn't get any in edgewise as he slips his own boots off and sits on the edge of the bed. "Good night, Juno," he says, before turning to look over his shoulder.

He smirks. She was out like a light.

He slips next to her, draping an arm across her softly to remind himself that she was really there. And, before too much longer, his own consciousness slips away.