1922/Rock Hounds

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Rock Hounds
Date of Scene: 31 March 2015
Location: The Citadel - Hangars
Synopsis: In an effort to find useful lightsaber power crystals, Starkiller and his pilot investigate a seemingly dead planet for useful specimens.
Cast of Characters: 428, 731


Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Although the initial search for worlds with viable crystals had been confined to a small and insignificant system off the tail end of the Hydian Way hyperspace route, eventually Juno's wanderings through sensor readouts and Imperial databases had led her further beyond that limited scope. She had begun crawling through the entries relevant to the multiverse at large, and her search had eventually led her to a small system in the multiversal void that had returned promising readings.

It had taken a hop, a skip, and a few well-calculated hyperspace jumps to skim past the hazards of multiversal space travel. Aside from black holes and orbital debris, there were also things to consider like large asteroids, spatial anomalies, and more bizarre things. Fortunately, Juno is a brilliant pilot; avoiding such hazards is child's play for her.

And so it is that the Rogue Shadow sets down on a dusty, otherwise unremarkable world whose rocky soil seems to carry a largely beige colour. It's a bare outcropping on the edges of a forest, but the trees are unlike anything anywhere else – skeletal and bleak, no more than charred remains; a testament to some kind of cataclysm. Many of them on the forest's leading edge are knocked over, scattered like so many toothpicks across the rocky soil.

It's a dead world, that much is a certainty. The system's sun is a distant, dim star flickering intermittently. While not an immediate hazard, the star is obviously in its last stages of life before collapse, its energy output dramatically reduced. To go by this planet, it's not enough to support life any more.

Although the air is cold and thin, it's breathable, to go by the Rogue Shadow's extensive testing. But there is no more sign of life here than there was from orbit. After some preliminary testing to make sure they won't choke as soon as they set forth on the world, the ship's hatch opens and the ramp telescopes out, raising a small puff of dust when it hits the ground.

Juno finds herself folding her arms and hugging herself against the chill atmosphere, wishing she had more than her jacket. PROXY is left behind to watch the ship and monitor the systems; she wants to see for herself what the story behind this strange planet is.

The silence is absolute. There is not even any wind to disturb the dust.

"What do you make of this place?" Her voice is hushed, as though she were reluctant to disturb the silence. "It feels so strange. Like walking through a graveyard."

Although there's nothing in the Force to account for it, there are still lingering echoes – some great natural catastrophe must have happened here, or perhaps whatever people were here packed up and left when it became clear that their system's sun could no longer support them. It's abandoned, for all intents and purposes, and there is no life left.

Eerie.

She wonders, briefly, whether there are indeed remains here, hidden by dust, like some vast planetary-sized graveyard. She promptly wishes she hadn't thought about that, hugging herself and shivering.

"According to the Rogue Shadow's readouts, there's a cave less than a kilometer from here, and supposedly the entire interior is of crystalline structure. But..." Juno glances back to the ship, briefly. PROXY will keep it safe, she knows. "Do you sense anything...?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen has been looking forward to this particular outing. After the Rancor hunt went so successfully, and after Juno had returned from another mission and repaired the Shadow again, they were going on another mission, this one much more personal. Of course, it was hunting for crystals. As they make their way through the various systems on the way to the world Juno had locked down for them, Galen sits behind the two pilots, meditatively taking apart and reassembling his lightsaber. He takes the saber crystal in his hand on one disassembly, staring at the brilliant red stone with a sense of wonder. He believes, truly, that he can revolutionize and enhance the power of the weapon through his experimentation. With enough power, he reasons, he would be greater than any Jedi or Sith and would no longer have to worry about Vader or Palpatine. It would let him protect Juno more easily, and maybe forge his own path in life.

The more likely effect, of course, is that his bosses would take the knowledge and overpower him once again.

He reassembles his saber as they touch down, closing his eyes and allowing his consciousness to flow out. Normally, the Force would allow him to sense even the smallest of creatures. However, as Juno asks him about his senses, he shakes his head. "Nothing. It's... completely dead. Not a sign of life anywhere. I can... sort of feel that something horrible happened here. I guess that's just normal though, right?" He glances over to Juno, who's huddling into her jacket. He pulls the hood up on his combat robes and cinchs it, though the cold doesn't affect him as much visibly. He places his saber on his belt and kicks at the dust, then turns in the direction where the cave is supposed to be. He closes his eyes again, then opens them. "It seems like a good place to start. Whatever caused this world to die might have altered the crystals into a usable form."

A morbid thought.

"What is this planet called, anyway?" he asks, "Or is it unnamed?"

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The pilot has been a bit less enthusiastic, although it isn't that she doesn't want to participate. She simply doesn't have the same interest in minerals that her companion does. Her hobbies trend towards things that are more alive, more vibrant; places like Felucia are endlessly fascinating, for all that it's trying to kill its visitors. Callos, too, before it had fallen to the Black Eight's surgical strikes.

This place suggests something of the same fate. Had this, too, been a place that had been destroyed by the Empire's hand? Or had some natural disaster befallen it? What could reduce what seems like a forested biosphere into ash and lifeless dust...?

A planetary reactor would be a perfectly viable explanation, just like Callos, but there had been no indications of city-structures or habitation. If there were once sentients here, they were of a more primitive nature. Any structures they might have had must have resembled the houses built by Wookiees; halfway organic structures that cooperated with Kashyyyk's forests, rather than against them–

She's interrupted from her thoughts by confirming that the planet is just as dead as the sensors had indicated.

Eerie. Definitely eerie.

"Nothing?" It's not really normal, but she doesn't bother responding to that aspect. Instead, she looks to the sky, where the dim sun flickers behind a layer of dust-coloured haze. "I'm not sure. It must have been the sun. Look how dim it is; I'd imagine that star is in the last stages of its life. If there were any sentients here, they must have packed up and left. After all, there couldn't be any agriculture with so little light, not unless there are specialised species that have adapted to such low-light conditions–"

She trails off, reaching up and pulling the brim of her cap down; a self-conscious gesture, along with a slightly sheepish smile. "Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's find some crystals."

Leading the way, she beckons for him to follow, striking off in the direction the Rogue Shadow's sensors had last indicated something interesting. Tapping at the comm piece in her ear, she signals to the ship. "PROXY, are you getting anything on the sensors?"

[There is nothing on the sensors, Captain Eclipse.]

"Good." To the issue of a name, she shrugs, one shoulder rising and falling carelessly. "Nothing. It's outside the bounds of our galaxy. I would assume it's a multiversal planet, so it could have come from any number of galaxies... who knows? Maybe the very act of joining the multiverse triggered some kind of catastrophic event. Some of those trees – at least I think they're trees – they almost look charred, don't they?"

The cave isn't far, and it's a yawning abyss that opens in the middle of an outcropping. Its path downward is sloped and gentle; an easy hike into the earth.

"I'm not sure I like the look of this," she murmurs, eyeing the opening apprehensively. She doesn't slow, though, and rests a hand on her blaster as she goes. Instead, her hand falls away from the weapon, and she pulls out a flashlight instead, clicking it on. It paints a bright yellowish beam of light directly ahead, illuminating a cave wall of exceptionally solid-looking rock. "Well, only one way to go. Onward and... downward, I suppose. Let's have a look around, shall we?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen rolls his shoulders and rubs his hands together. He was sure Juno didn't fully understand his obsession with crystals and stones, but they represented more than just progress and potential. They were peaceful. They were a representation of perfect peace and harmony, completely without conflict.

"Nothing," he says, nodding his head, "There are no bugs, even. It's... sterile." He glances around, the ashen trees and dead landscape not seeming to bother him in the slightest. It just meant that he and Juno would not be bothered at all, and therefore they wouldn't have to put on a show for the Empire or the Confederacy. As such, he moves over, putting a hand around her shoulder. He can tell she's a bit cold, and maybe the planet was bothering her a little. However, the gesture doesn't last long as she begins leading the way to the crystal cave. As she mentions that this could be a multiversal planet, he smiles a bit. "Ooh, that means these crystals might have completely new and interesting properties when assembled into a lightsaber." He tugs his hood back down, and for a moment he looks a lot younger than he normally does. His eyes shine like a child's, and his face is one of unrestrain excitement.

It's sort of endearing.

It passes, though, and he pulls the lightsaber off his belt again. As she shines the flashlight, he holds the saber out in front of him to shed a bit more light on the area. "Don't worry. There's nothing here, remember? Unless maybe we can't detect them through the Force or technology. What are the odds of that?"

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
There's something to be said for a peaceable study, let alone one that he even has official sanction to pursue. Precious few such methods exist for those who call themselves Sith, be they masters or apprentices. It must be a welcome break from the carnage that usually makes up both of their workaday routine.

Even putting aside the philosophical explanation for his enthusiasm, the plain reality is that he's adorable when he's really gotten into it like this. Like a kid on Christmas day, if they had Christmas in their particular system, which they don't. Still, the comparison is an apt one. His eyes shine; he loses himself in the temporary wonder of discovery. Is it like her, when she finds a new planet to marvel over, one practically bursting with life and vitality and a more complex ecosystem than she could possibly imagine? Her first trip to Felucia was like that; under the annoyance at having to scrape the gunk off the ship and out of the engines. She had marvelled, on that first descent, over the intricate and complicated fungal biosphere. It reminded her of Callos before it had been struck down.

She leans into his touch when his hand closes over her shoulder, but she doesn't comment right away.

Sterile. That, too, is like Callos. That planet lies in sterile ruin, much like this, albeit for very different reasons. Where Callos boasts toxic sludge where its rivers and forests had once been, this speaks more of a natural event of some kind. Cataclysmic, to be certain; perhaps a combination of natural disasters sparked by the decline of its sun.

"Maybe it suffered an asteroid impact; enough to destroy the ecosystem, but not enough to destroy the planet itself. I'll have to scan the other hemisphere once we've returned to the ship. That would account for all the particulate matter in the air," she adds, thoughtfully. "I feel like I'm inhaling sandpaper the longer we stay out here."

Fortuantely, the air in the caves is a bit cleaner; though it's downright cold beneath the surface.

"The sensors say there's nothing here. That doesn't actually mean that there's nothing here," Juno adds, warily. "If this isn't a planet within our known space, there could be anything, here, but... I suppose you're right." Gradually, she relaxes, sweeping the flashlight. The cave seems to stop a short way under the surface, and–

"Gah!"

–and it /gleams/, so brightly that with that utterance, Juno squints and staggers back, blinking hard to clear the spots from her eyes.

There is a crystal deposit nearly the size of the entire rock wall. At first light, it's a sort of greyish green, but shining the lightsaber seems to alter its colour – almost a reddish grey, when the light of the energy weapon falls over it; and almost yellow under the beam of the flashlight, as though the semitransparent crystal were adopting the colour of whatever light falls across it.

So, it must be clear, or close to it.

"It's certainly pretty, but a little strange. Look there, how it catches your lightsaber. It's almost like it's... /changing/." She shines the flashlight over it again, pointing at the spot where it's lit by Galen's weapon. "That's odd. I wonder what would cause that?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen moves into the cave, brandishing his saber like a torch as they stroll in. "That may be," he says, "Or perhaps the sun just sent out waves of radiation. No, that wouldn't do this, would it?" He shakes his head. Planetary disasters aren't his strong suit, unless he happens to be involved in the event personally. Which, luckily, hasn't exactly happened yet. However, considering his Imperial alignment, it is always a possibility. He frowns slightly, then proceeds further into the cave.

"Heh. I guess I'm just used to various different atmospheres," he says, "It's not that bad." He is a little irritated by the air, but it doesn't seem to slow him or outwardly bother him. As they step into the cave proper, though, he does let out a little sigh. "This is better, though."

As Juno's beam hits the crystal wall, Galen goes star-eyed. And not because of the brightness, either. "Whoa! Wha... What kind of crystal is this?!" He rushes to the wall, placing a hand against it and holding the lightsaber up above him, watching the crystal change color with glee. "It's clear, but not purely clear. It's got a sort of gray tinge to whatever shines through it. It would, theoretically, create a semi-transparent grey saber blade, but I don't know what other properties it has without actually cutting a crystal and locking it in." His hand brushes along the wall, feeling the texture of the crystal. "Whoa..."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"No, it wasn't radiation. I ran a complete sensor sweep before we left the ship, and I wasn't picking up anything like that. It's as though there isn't any biological material /left/. Just those trees... and those look as though they've been burnt. Whatever's left of them has been completely charred." Juno reaches up with her free hand, black-gloved hands absently rubbing at her jawline in speculation. "I'll have to take some samples before we go."

Juno Eclipse can no more resist a good mystery than Galen Marek can resist a shiny rock.

She looks up, quirking a brow. "Yes, well, you've also got a few things that enable you to cheat considerably more than the average layperson. Like me," she adds, jabbing herself in the breastbone with a thumb. "If I breathe enough of that grit out there, it's going to start irritating my lungs like any normal person. I can't exactly shoot lightning out my fingers, either."

Her eyes slide back to the wall even as Galen rushes to it; she approaches, too, but at a considerably more sedate pace. Shining the flashlight over it with considerably more care, she bends close to examine a smaller corner of it, ideally in a way that isn't blinding. "Nothing I've ever seen before. I can't imagine anything like it. I suppose that's the advantage to looking at foreign worlds, hm?"

"See if you can break off a small piece. Let me see..." She pauses, transferring the flashlight to her mouth, clenching it in place between her teeth while she fumbles at her belt. Since joining the multiverse, she's taken to travelling with a small toolbelt, because you never know when you're going to need tools. Detaching a small lance, she scoots over to stand beside him, flicking the torch on to try and cut a small piece off. The lance is designed to cut through even thin pieces of durasteel, so it should be able to handle a piece of crystal.

The first thing she discovers, upon cutting into it with the small blade of contained heat, is that the smell once heated is strange; almost like incense, as though resin and scented oils were being burnt, rather than crystal. The second thing is that the blade cuts through it with relative ease, but the heat seems to be discolouring the edges; blackening them, and dimming that wonderful colour-sensitivity it was showing before. The middle still does, though, and she presents the small piece to Galen. "Here."

"I might as well cut a few more, and take samples. I wouldn't recommend plugging that into your lightsaber or whatever it is you do, anyway, until I've had a chance to look it over. I'm fairly certain it's mineral, but I'm really hoping it isn't organic." She pauses, frowning and leaning over to cut another small piece, holding it up to her nose. "What /is/ that smell? It's almost sweet... what an odd rock."

She looks back up to the wall again. "I wonder what it would even do in a lightsaber... not that I know much about how they work, anyway. That's your purview, I suppose." Half a glance is shot back to Galen, and she can't help a lopsided grin. "Having fun, are you?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen nods. "I can help you with that, I would think," he says, smirking sidelong, "I'm guessing you want a piece of the wood, and maybe some soil, right?" It wasn't shiny rocks, so he wasn't overall interested, but he knew Juno was, so he would help out as best as he could, just as she is helping him with his crystal hunt. "Hey, it irritates my lungs too. I think. I guess I could stay here and test that, but I'd rather not," he says, chuckling a bit. He holds up his hand, allowing sparks to dance across his palm for a moment. Almost like he was rubbing it in.

He wouldn't do that though, right?

As Juno cuts a piece of the crystal, he takes it and turns it over in his hand. The edges are darkened, but the center still retains its shine. "Odd... I'm not even sure what sort of effect this might produce. And that smell..." He sniffs the air. "It's... kind of calming. But I've never seen a crystal that gives off this sort of odor, or blackens like this under just that much heat." He pockets his fragment. He really needed to get another lightsaber he could use as a test saber, so he didn't risk damage to his combat one, but that would likely have to wait. Maybe he could build another for that purpose.

Galen smiles, true and large. "Oh yeah. This is pretty incredible."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"You can help me with that, as long as you won't destroy the things I'd like to take as samples. I don't need much," she adds. "A little of the soil, some of that crystal, and a few pieces of that wood outside. If it's wood. I'm hoping there might be undamaged heartwood beneath the worst of the charring, although I sincerely doubt those trees are alive."

She looks back to the wall, just in time to see him rub it in with the lightning. With a snort, she gives him a bit of a shove. "Oh, rub it in, why don't you?"

Okay! He will. ...Bastard.

"Right? It seems almost organic. Or at least semi-organic. Like... like resin, or something similar to it. Yet it's crystallised, or at least hard enough to seem crystallised. I wonder if it's even mineral in nature? Take a few extra pieces," she adds, curious. "I'd like to do some in-depth analysis on these. It might answer a few questions, like what happens when it's subjected to heat and pressure. Perhaps it's acclimated to a cold climate."

She looks over, unable to help a smile of her own. "Yeah. I can tell you're enthusiastic about it. I'll keep an eye on the star charts for anything that might be interesting like this place... there may be more deeper underground, but I'll need to consult the Rogue Shadow's computers. I think we've got enough for now. If you'd like, we can take these pieces back, and we can study them with the equipment we have on the ship."

"It's not exactly a proper science lab," Juno says with a shrug, "but it might give us a basic idea of what this stuff is. We can cross-reference with multiversal information in the Imperial databases and see if there are any matches. Besides, it probably isn't a good idea to stick around too long on the surface, here. The air on the ship is considerably cleaner; this harshness can't be good for either of us. Maybe it irritates your lungs, but you're less prone to noticing, I think."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
"Right," Galen says, giving a mild eyeroll, "because that's all I do. Uhhh... alright, fine, you have a point." He was known most for his destructive capabilities, so her warning make a fair bit of sense. "I'll just carry the samples then." He was at least good at moving heavy loads. As Juno breaks into a more science dialogue, Galen tries to keep up. "I hope they're not organic. I don't know if a lightsaber can deal with an organic crystal. Then again, I suppose it would be a good experiment." He shrugs his shoulders. He's a certain type of scientist, with his saber tinkering at all, but Juno is definitely the more mentally capable of the two. He's the muscle.

"What's not to be enthusiastic about?" he asks with a grin, "I could completely change how lightsabers work, and give them new properties. It could make my job a lot easier if I find the right sort of crystal." And would make him more powerful. Which would help him in case anyone ever did find out about him and Juno.

Galen nods. "Grab about four more than you had in mind. I want a few extra myself. They may not react well to saber experimentation, but I want to have a few just in case." He smiles softly, then places his saber blade against the crystal wall. "I wonder how it reacts to a blade itself."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"I welcome the attempt to prove me wrong," Juno points out, casting the apprentice a sidelong glance. "Whenever you get called into a situation, collateral damage is a given. It's just a question of how widespread it's going to be. Don't destroy my samples," she adds, pointedly.

To the crystals, she shakes her head, eyeing the edifice somewhat dubiously. "I'm really not sure. It almost behaves like some kind of resin. Yet it's obviously crystalline in nature. Look there, where the lance had cut into the face. You can see the jagged edges."

"It's so strange." Juno makes a long, thoughtful sound in the back of her throat, frowning. "I suppose there's not much more I can find out by standing around here, though. Come on, you; let's collect those samples. I could have PROXY help me, but I'm not too sure about letting you wander off on your own. Maybe the ship hasn't found any life signs, but it's just too quiet for me to be comfortable. There isn't even any wind. How creepy is that?"

"Four more? If you insist." She shrugs, flicking the lance on again and carving out more of the rock face as carefully as she can. For something meant to carve up the hulls of starships, the little tool performs pretty well against a rock wall. "I wouldn't bother with putting those into a lightsaber until we've gotten a good idea of what they do, though. And what they are," she adds, distractedly. "Putting one of those in untested would be a bad idea. For all we know they might be incendiary under the right circumstances. Once you've gone past the galactic borders, multiversal physics tend to take a turn for the bizarre."

Rolling the crystals around in her hand once she finishes, she frowns down at the greyish things. "They don't look like anything I've ever seen before. I guess it takes the right sort of mind to get enthusiastic. They don't look like much." She shrugs, pocketing them. "Then again, stygium crystals aren't particularly lookers, either. Raw stygium looks even worse than this."

Juno squints as he lowers his lightsaber. How, indeed? A welding lance is one thing, but a lightsaber is another entirely. For all she knows, they function at much higher temperatures, and in greater concentration. Actually, she doesn't know much about them at all beyond their destructive potential.

As the lightsaber hovers over it, the colour of the crystal changes as it had before. The face closest to the lightsaber begins to blacken and change, smoldering; a thin wisp of smoke rises from the point of contact. It smells fragrant just as the welding lance's searing had, as though it were incense, but...

The entire cave lurches, hard enough to cause Juno to stumble. She snaps a hand out sideways, steadying herself on the non-crystalline rock, glancing sharply at Galen. "That's not good. I don't–"

Once more the cave lurches; intense and powerful, like the snap of an earthquake fault.

And then something /screeches/, like the sound of fatigued metal tearing itself apart. On the far end of the wall, a large chunk of the crystal facade simply crumbles, tumbling to the cave floor and raising a small cloud of dust. The pieces that fall are blackened, even though it hadn't been anywhere near the lightsaber; gradually, the entire face blackens, threatening to collapse as the other portion had.

"Turn it off. Turn it off!" Juno reaches out and attempts to seize him by the other arm, attempting to haul him back and away from the debris. "It's like the heat's /spread through/ the crystal... are you sure you want to put that in a lightsaber?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen rolls his eyes again. "Yes, yes, I know. Don't destroy the samples. I got it, alright?" He laughs a little. She has a very valid point. If stormtrooper casulties on his missions were any indictation, his collateral damage was likely some of the costliest in the entire Empire. And that is saying something.

He tilts his head. "A crystalline resin? That... that's so weird. This planet is stranger and stranger." The scent of the crystals still lingers in his nostrils. "Smells like a theraputic candle," he notes. How does he know that?

May be best not to ask.

"I'm not going to immediately slot one in and take it out on a mission," he notes, "but without putting one into a saber, I won't know it's saber properties." It makes sense to him, honestly, but she has a point. The thing could burn up in his hands, and then he'd have no hands. And that would suck. "Stygium... that's what powers the stealth functions, right?" He thinks he has that right, but it's posed as a question nonetheless.

As the blade hits the crystal face, the smell redoubles, stronger than ever. The areas around his impact point start to blacken. All seems normal. And then the earth shakes. Pieces break off, and immediately he has to throw up a hand and stop them from falling on them. They're blackened, too. And then the entire face is black. He allows himself to be pulled away, shutting the saber off quickly. He blinks at it a few times, then sighs. "That... was interesting."

At her question, he grimaces. "I still don't know what kind of reaction that was, but I AM a bit less eager..."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"What? I'm just making sure of it. Collateral damage is what you do." Juno shakes her head, apparently serious in spite of Galen's sarcasm. "I'd rather not have to come back here and collect more of these samples. In fact, I'd rather not come back here at all. I'm not sure what it is, but something about this place just... doesn't feel right."

Then again, collateral damage involving stormtroopers would probably happen even to a person who doesn't cause collateral damage. They're stormtroopers. Those poor guys are, literally, the definition of blaster fodder. She's reflected more than once that she's happy she never went into a career with the ground forces. It's a fast track to a dramatically shortened lifespan.

"If it is a resin of some sort, it must have been formed at tremendous pressure, and probably heat, too. I wonder if the current ambient temperature has anything to do with it." Juno frowns, toeing the rubble, although at least the smell isn't unpleasant. She's smelled worse things. Like the insides of rancors masquerading as the outsides of rancors, splattered liberally over Galen's training gear. That was pretty horrible. This is pleasant by comparison. A little strong, perhaps, but pleasant.

She frowns, sniffing deeply. "It smells like–" She glances sidelong even as he supplies an answer, frowning a little more. "How do you know what a theraputic candle smells like, anyway...?"

"Still..." Her eyes turn back to the collapsed crystal face. Stooping, she picks one of the blackened pieces up in a gloved hand, rolling between her fingers. It crumbles, as though it were blackened parchment instead of stout mineral. She frowns, thoughtfully. "It's almost as though they're... /rotting/. Whatever happened here must have affected the mineral composition of the crust, too. I'm not so sure it was the decline of the system's star, any more..."

Flipping her lance into her hand, she thumbs the small tool on again, stepping over the pile of blackened rubble to excise another piece. "Come on. We should take more of these for study. I have a feeling this isn't going to last for much longer, as it is. And then we should get out of here. I listened to my gut as a TIE pilot, and it never led me wrong; maybe it's not the same thing you use, but I feel like I should be listening to it here, too."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen chuckles. "I get it now, I get it," he says, "I know I create a lot of... fallout." He laughs slightly, then nods. "As peaceful as it is, I don't much care for this planet myself, outside of its interesting crystals." Shinies. Gotta get all the shinies.

He nods slightly at Juno's base analysis, noting the logic in her thought process. "So it might change if constantly exposed to a higher or lower temperature, right?" he asks, "I still might get some use out of this yet." As the rumbling stops and the crystals stop falling, he kneels down, accidently crumbling one in his grip. As the fragments fall from his hand, he muses. "What can cause crystal to decay? I've never even heard of that happening..." Something really strange must have happened here if something like this could happen. He lost a lot of potential shiny crystals because of it, but he doesn't seem too disappointed.

He straightens up, nodding a bit. "I didn't like the feel of those rumbles. And if the crystal is decaying, the dirt might not be faring much better." He turns, attempting to lead the way out of the cave. "Let's get your other samples quickly and take off. I think time might be against us."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"That's the diplomatic way to put it." Juno's mouth twists into half a grin, but it fades as he remarks on the planet itself. "Yes, I agree. There's something really unsettling about this place. Do you sense anything?" Probably not, but it's worth asking. "I still wonder what must have happened."

Her eyes slide back to the pile of crystalline rubble, and she prods at some of it with the toe of a boot. "It could be. Some minerals are particularly susceptible to extremes of temperature, and they have a tendency to perform poorly at certain temperature ranges. Other times that can actually reinforce their structure. I know certain forms of durasteel are subjected to tempering so quick that treatments are almost flash-freezing the metal, red out of the processing forge. In most cases, that tempers it and guards it against structural weakness."

Apparently it has exactly the opposite effect on this stuff, whatever it is. She toes at the pile some more, watching the crystals crumble into a vague semblance of dust. "Still, it's odd how it breaks it down so completely. Look at that; it's almost /dust/."

"I'm not certain. I know certain minerals are subject to rot, but the geological processes involved are fairly long-term. Granite, for example, especially when present as a xenolith within another formation. Frost opens up cracks in the xenolith, and water eventually begins trickling its way down there." She cuts into the crystal face as she works, dropping crystals into a pocket at regular intervals. "Once the water's had a chance to stagnate for long enough, it begins to eat away at the weaker minerals in the structure."

"Eventually, you're left with the strongest bits; in the case of the granite, often flecks of quartz. Everything else disintegrates, and what doesn't disintegrate becomes unstable and... well, crumbly. A lot like our friend here." She toes at the pile off-handedly, even as she works toward cutting another piece. "But I've never heard of something crystalline like this actually /decaying/. Then there's the smell, too. Most things just haven't got much of a smell, unless you're dealing with raw sulphur. Clearly there's some kind of natural processes at work, here, but I've no idea what."

Once she's got a sufficient pile of crystals causing her pockets to bulge, she turns to march right after Galen, glancing back over her shoulder. "I expect this cave probably won't last, if there's a fault running anywhere near the area. In fact, I wonder what the core of this planet looks like, and if there's even any convective activity any more..."

It's a quick-step march back to the Rogue Shadow, with only a few minutes taken to gather up samples of the soil, rocks, and charred trees along the way. Once they reach the Rogue Shadow, the hatch smoothly slides open to admit them, and smoothly slides closed again once pilot and Inquisitor are aboard.

On the way there, Juno drops her cargo of crystals into a plastisteel barrel, sealing the lid with a keypress of its computerised sealing hatch; sliding it into a corner where it can wait. She'll subject it to science later. "We'll study those later. I can probably make use of the Empirical's facilities. They're excellent for general research," she adds, on the way to the cockpit. "In the meantime, I'm going to do what research I can."

"Out of my seat," she adds, to the gangly droid currently occupying it, thumbing to the jump seat behind the pilot and co-pilot seats.

Keying in the engine startup sequence, she glances back toward Galen. "Was there anywhere else you wanted to stop at, or shall I lay in a course to the Scarl System...?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen smirks. "I am nothing if not diplomatic," he says. Sarcasm is, of course, dripping from this statement. They both know that he practices Big Stick Diplomacy, and rarely any other type. He then shrugs. "No idea, Juno," he says, "We can try that scan you were talking about, but if that doesn't turn something up, it may just remain a mystery." He shrugs. He does want to learn what happened here, if only to be on the watch for it on other planets as a survival measure.

He listens to her explanation, understanding but not completely understanding at the same time. The durasteel explanation makes a degree of sense, but is mostly lost on him. "We'll have to see what we can do with them, then," he says, shrugging again, "but for now, we should get moving. Yeah... I've never seen a crystal turn to dust before..." He pulls the crystal back out of his pocket and stares at it for a moment. "Seems like a risk to do anything with them yet. Let me know what the results are when you investigate them," he says. As she explains the granite example, he listens intently. "So... it's possible that the massive climate change has eroded the crystal's structure to this degree... strange."

Nothing about this planet is normal, though.

After a quick gathering session, they're back on the Shadow and settling in. When Juno puts all her materials into the barrel, he holds onto his shard, turning it over in his hands. He's distracted for a moment, but when she asks, he's not too slow to answer. "Let's get back to the Scarl System."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Diplomacy at the end of a lightsaber, maybe." Juno's retort is almost automatic, but she's wearing a half-smile as she does, one that seems almost sad. He can't help the way he operates, after all; Vader is hardly the sort to offer instruction in the finer points of social tactics. "I suppose that's one of the many irreplacable roles I fill for you."

She leans back in the pilot's chair, keying in the coordinates to the Scarl System. Half of that equation is one she knows by heart; the rest is a matter of anything-but-simple calculations on her part. She's probably one of the few pilots in the fleet who can calculate hyperspace jumps without the aid of a navcomputer; let alone quickly, and accurately.

Juno looks thoughtful as she taps the last of their destination into the Rogue Shadow's systems. "I'd like to know, too. It makes me uneasy, but at the same time... I want to know." Her tone shifts, and he might feel a hint of despair about her. "I've seen a planet die before, and by my own hand, but Callos was different. That was poison, entropy; rot. This... I don't know what to make of it, but something tells me it's important to find out."

She glances over to his seat, watching him turn the crystal over and over in his hands; thoughtful.

"Yeah. Let's get back. I'd like to use the Empirical's facilities to analyse some of these." With a sigh, she reaches forward, keying in the confirmation, and settling her hand on the throttle to ease it forward. The Rogue Shadow leaps to obey, ion drives thrumming to life beneath her touch.

Juno can't help a smile. "I love that sensation," she murmurs, quietly. "It's like home, you know...?"

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen smirks. "Hey, diplomacy is diplomacy, right?" He settles in his seat, putting the crystal back into his pocket. He closes his eyes briefly. Allowing his senses to spread out, he attempts once again to find anything on the planet to connect with. And still, there's nothing. Dead. Barren. Sterile. "It's unsettling. Not even a hearty bug left. It's... sort of unnerving." He shakes his head, then reclines in his chair.

He frowns a bit. He knows that Callos is a sensitive point for Juno, so he attempts to sidestep and not discuss it even as she brings it up. "This seems more... natural?" he says, then shakes his head, "No, not natural, but not completely artificial. You know what I mean?" He stretches a bit, then stifles a yawn. "The Empirical does have a lot of research facilities," he adds, "Should speed up our research."

As he leans his head back and settles in for the ride, he smiles. "Yeah. It IS home, not just like home. At least for me."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Not quite." Juno grins, although half her attention stays on the ship's systems as she initialises its takeoff. "There's a world of difference between diplomacy and conquest. You'll make a lot more friends if you use the carrot before the stick. Or lightsaber, as it were."

She leans forward to the controls, although she's keeping half her attention on her companion. "I imagine it's really unsettling for you, in particular. You're probably used to sensing things, at least on some level, right? Not to have anything at all to sense nearby; no life at all... that has to be disorienting." She shakes her head. "It's odd enough just not to notice the sounds of insects, or birds; or even see anything green."

Or blue, or purple, or vibrant red or orange or whatever colour this planet's vegetation originally was.

"Not natural. That's the problem. Callos was... natural, in a way. Once the reactor was breached, things were left to entropy. It wasn't just sterilised; it was belching fumes into the air, toxic runoff into the waterways... I mean, things didn't just /disappear/, you know?" Juno gestures vaguely, towards the planet beyond the viewport; a world of unsettling brown and grey. "It's as though things just vanished, here. Look out the viewport. There aren't even any oceans, and I can't come up with a trace of water on the sensors."

Soon, though, the engines make their second kick, the ship lurching as it surges into the blue of hyperspace. She leans back in her seat and sighs as the autopilot engages, obediently following the course she'd laid out. There's nothing more to do now but to wait as the ship carries them back to the Scarl System.

"Yes, that should make things easier. If those facilites can't shed any light, then I can ask our Confederate allies. Someone's bound to have an interest in researching these things, and I'm willing to grease the wheels with credits, if that's the kind of motivation they need." Whisking off her cap, she rubs at her forehead, the gesture weary. "It's definitely a mystery. But something tells me we need to solve it. It's... important, somehow, but I don't know why."

A much happier subject is the ship itself. Folding her arms behind her head, she leans back, kicking her boots up on an unused portion of the forward console. She smiles, eyes closing; for a few moments, at peace. "Even though I've only served aboard this ship for a few years... it feels more like a home than anywhere else I've ever stayed. Yeah... I imagine it's even more than that, for you."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
"I think people would hate me more if I beat them down with a carrot," Galen says, "It'd be embarrassing. I could do it, of course, but that's just not right." He knows her metaphor well enough, but chooses to play up a different angle. She'd see a serene grin on his face if she happened to look back at him. "Might be a nice handicap if I ever find a rival."

He nods a bit. "It's a little uncomfortable, yes. Not sensing any form of life outside the two of us. In a way, it's peaceful, of course, but it's just... well, I think I've used all the words I can to describe it already." Not a single creature had survived or remained on the planet. Such a thing was uncommon unless the world itself ceased to exist, and only a handful of things could do that, he would imagine. He places his hands behind his head, then floats a small, empty barrel over to him to act as a footrest. He's getting pretty cozy, it seems.

He does quirk an eyebrow and turn his attention out the window. No water at all? So that would explain... "No wonder there's no life there. No water. I mean, most things need that to survive. I'm sure there are some races that can survive without it, but the majority need it. It looks like that might have been the trigger for extinction or migration, right?" He shrugs his shoulders. No water. How odd. "What could even do that? I mean, polluting water is one thing, but to erase it all completely?"

This planet is so weird.

"I'm sure there are scientists in the Confederacy who science just for the science. Just a matter of finding one of them." He smirks a bit, then stifles another yawn. "Maybe they can help us figure out what happened to that planet, too."

He looks around the ever-familiar Rogue Shadow and nods. "Definitely. The Shadow has seen me into and out of every battle and mission I've ever had. It's like a part of the family, and home all at once."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"What–no, no! Not literally." Juno laughs, but she can tell by his expression that he's not being entirely serious. Just rattling her chain a bit, probably because he can, but that's how their interactions tend to be. A little levity is good for them both. "Although if anybody's crazy enough to actually try it, it would be you, wouldn't it?"

Something tells her he'd win any duel with that kind of handicap, too. Lightsabers are a devastatingly efficient weapon, but Galen has a special talent for wreaking havoc. He's hardly limited to a lightsaber in leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

She leans back in her chair more comfortably, although she glances aside when he uses Force cheatery to provide himself with his own footrest. Cheater. Her eyes close again when he comments on the water.

With the serene blue of hyperspace surrounding them, she can imagine she can almost still see it even with her eyes closed. It's soothing in its own way, even if it's an environment that would tear them apart if not for the ship's hyperdrive and shielding.

"There may have been water, once," she ventures, a little uncertainly. "I want to test the soil samples for evidence. No planet can support carbon-based life without water. I expect this one's no exception. I suppose it's possible that life there may have been based on some other chemical, but..."

She shrugs. There's no way to know for certain until she's had a chance to avail herself of the Empirical's advanced facilities.

"Actually, I was thinking that something happened to destroy the water supply. It's a bit easier to swallow than there being no water from the start, or else what would have caused such a mass exodus? If, indeed, the life there left, and wasn't simply killed outright. Although I saw no evidence of remains..." That would have meant the entire world was a planetary graveyard. Totally not creepy at all. "If there were some kind of solar event, it might have had something to do with it. I wonder if those crystals might have had something to do with it? Maybe they're artificial constructs."

To the matter of Confederate scientists, she seems to mull it over for a few minutes. Finding somebody like that might be ideal, but there aren't very many people in such a collective that she actually trusts... either to do the work ethically, to do the work thoroughly, or not to charge an arm and a leg and a soul for what they want. It's something she'll have to think on.

For now, she puts her uniform cap back on, pulling it down over her eyes, leaving enough room that she can still monitor the pilot's console. Every so often she does glance down at it, the intense blue of its displays reflected in her eyes; with her eyes already such a clear blue colour, the effect is almost eerie.

"I should hope so. I'd like to get to the bottom of that mystery. Whatever managed to destroy that entire planet... I feel like it's important to know, somehow, even if... well, it probably sounds silly, but even if it's only to remember that there was life there, once." She studies the displays for a moment, before letting her eyes close. "I wonder if it had any sentient species."

That's a bit chilling to think about; that there might have been people there, thinking and feeling and going about their lives, wiped out with no hope of escape.

Shrugging off that nagging feeling, she focuses more on the familiarity of the ship. That's a good thing to focus on. Even though she's only piloted the ship for a few scant years, it's become like a home to her, as well. The Rogue Shadow is amiliar enough that, even with her eyes closed, she could trace every contour of the cockpit, and know instinctively where everything lies. She smiles, even as she cracks her eyes open to regard the consoles.

"I feel like that, too, even though I've only been aboard it for a few years." She gestures, vaguely, with one hand. "You know, none of the places I've ever had quarters – the I.N.S. Retribution, where I first served as a TIE pilot, or the Empirical, or even the Citadel... none of those ever felt like home like the Rogue Shadow does. Isn't that strange? I'd served aboard the Retribution for years, too. It isn't as though it were unfamiliar to me. I suppose it's because you're here. I think I might even miss PROXY if he weren't around."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen smirks. "I might just do it for the thrill," he says, chuckling. He closes his eyes again, trying to imagine fighting with a carrot. It was a hilarious mental image to be sure, and he laughs for a moment before settling back down. He kicks the barrel with a boot, smirking at the ringing sound. "This, truly, is the life," he says, "So relaxing..."

He shrugs his shoulders. "I would like to think there was water at some point," he says, "There were trees, after all, unless they actually weren't trees. If that's the case, there's no telling what that planet was like before then." At Juno's theory, he opens his eyes again. "Like, whatever was there built these crystals to try and sustain themselves or something?" he asks, "Or maybe guard against whatever was going on? It crumbled to heat, so maybe it was sheer cold that killed off everything or sent them running."

He looks up at the ceiling, which was cast in an odd blue from the control panel and the hyperspace around them. His eyes only stay open for a moment longer, then close again, and he nods. "It is important. It could be a major threat to Imperial worlds if it's NOT a natural occurrence. If something has the ability to steal an entire planet's worth of water or otherwise destroy the supply completely, it's imperative we find out." He wanted to know what sort of life was there as well, but he kept the business aspect of the mission in mind as well. He didn't want to think about the people there being completely lost, but he had also been responsible for more than his fair share of population control.

He smirks as Juno mentions how the Rogue Shadow was much more of a home than any other ship she's served on, then it turns to an actual warm smile. "I think this ship just has that effect on people," he says, "It's somewhat cozy, for what it is."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"You would do it for the thrill," Juno mutters. That's all fine and good, but she's the one who worries herself sick about him when he risks his life for his day job. Every time he engages in a risky mission, her heart is in her throat when she doesn't hear from him. She fusses over him when he comes back bleeding from a dozen insignificant wounds. They're never insignificant to her. "Is that with or without one arm tied behind your back?"

Some days, it's difficult to find a balance. The need to worry over him is so powerful it's more instinct, but she also has to consider their Imperial masters. She's thankful for her military training in that regard. Those years instilled in her a calm and patience and grace under fire that are almost comparable to a Jedi's meditation, at least in short stretches. She can control herself when things seem their worst – but that's all she needs. She can break down later, behind closed doors, where no one can see the consummate professional losing her cool.

Tilting her head, Juno regards the console for a moment before letting her attention wander, gaze straying to the blue of hyperspace beyond the viewport. "They were a little different from what I remember on Corulag, but they definitely looked like trees. Unless those were artificial constructs, anyway. I wonder what the climate was originally like? I'm hoping those soil samples should be able to give us some idea. The more I wonder about that planet, the more I want to know about it. It just seems so bizarre."

"Just to go by its physical properties, it seems like a cross between something highly compressed, possibly an artificial substance, and yet it has the mark of crystalline growth. It pared off in a definite crystalline structure; it might have been too small to see clearly, but I could definitely feel it." Juno frowns, eyes lingering on the blue void beyond the ship. "I'm not sure. It's not like anything I've ever experienced before. Granted, my focus isn't in earth sciences, but I know the basics." Her mouth quirks into a half-smile. "I did a lot of reading as a child."

"It could be," she offers, dubiously. "But I'm not sure it's so simple as that. I didn't see any evidence of artificial structures in my scans. No comm chatter, no electromagnetic interference from communications equipment. No signatures that might have been left behind, unless this happened a very long time ago. That's a distinct possibility. But, I agree, and it's worth looking into. I can't ignore the possibility that it could represent a threat somehow. With the right Imperial equipment, we might learn more about that place. And, hopefully, what happened there."

A mystery for another day, though. She glances over as he smiles, unable to help her own. "Yeah. Although I guess it takes the right kind of person. Not everyone enjoys being on a ship." Straightening, she leans back into her own chair, comfortable in a way she never would have let herself show when they'd first started working together. Casual, even. The Rogue Shadow is one of the very few places she can fully relax. "When I was still a cadet in the Imperial Academy at Corulag, after I'd chosen to pursue training as a TIE pilot, the realities of life aboard a Star Destroyer was constantly drilled into us."

"Life aboard a ship is hard for some people. It's claustrophobic for some people. You're breathing recycled air which, while still functional and excellent by the standards of most Imperial filtration systems, isn't quite the same as planetary atmosphere. And some people just never get used to never having a day-night cycle. The wake cycle on the ship is about as good as it gets, and that's a standard twelve hours." She grins, even as she cocks an eye toward the console displays. "I think about a quarter of the class left before the instructor even finished that cautionary tale, and decided that life in the TIE racks wasn't for them."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen chuckles. "Both hands, clearly. I'll hold the carrot with my teeth." That's an even more amusing mental image. Even worse would be if he won. Hypothetical situations can be fun to ponder, but there's no way he'd go into battle with anything less than his trusted saber. Not only because it's his most comfortable weapon, but also because he wouldn't want to risk failing a mission. He couldn't put Juno through losing him. Both because of who she is, and what would happen to her should he fall on a mission she was running support on. Vader likely wouldn't take kindly to that.

Galen shrugs again. "They were tree-shaped, anyway. We'll know about them soon enough, I'd wager," he states. He chuckles a bit; her interest in things like this was always fascination to listen to. She really knew her stuff, and it was at times hard to keep up with her thought process. "You, a bookworm?" he teases, "I would have never guessed." He cocks his own smile, making it look like a playful grin. "I can see it now. Young Juno with her face in a book, side by side with you now, with your face in the guts of the Shadow."

Galen hadn't considered that angle. "I suppose it would make sense for it to be a long dead planet, but would the trees have stayer upright in that state for very long? They looked pretty fragile, but if there was nothing to disturb them, I guess they would." Science, outside of sabertech, was really outside of his purview, no matter how often he listened to Juno talk about it.

Galen cracks his eyes open as Juno tells her story, smirking at the end. "Not everyone can deal with this sort of life, that's true. I, honestly, wouldn't have it any other way. Day and night cycles are for normal people, and I'm anything but." He smirks again. "Of course, I don't think I'd want to stay on a Star Destroyer for too long. Too big. Too many people. The Shadow's the perfect size for me. Like an apartment."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Of course." Juno chuckles under her breath. "I think you'd better stick to the lightsaber, though. Orange just isn't your colour, I'm afraid. I suppose I'm just used to seeing you with red."

Never mind how invaluable a lightsaber is to his sort of work. Under the guise of his code name, he is a formidable opponent, to be sure; but that's because he fights formidable foes. His missions are often under poor conditions, and boast even poorer odds. He'd gotten lucky with Kota, and solitude had warped Kazdan Paratus' mind into a sort of animal cunning.

How much longer can he continue to beat those odds, though? How many more Jedi Masters will it be? And will they have to start hunting them beyond the bounds of their own galaxy...? Putting aside those grim thoughts, Juno turns her mind to other matters.

"Have you got a problem with that?" Juno raises a brow, fixing him with a sharp look from under the brim of her hat. It's not quite spirited enough to be a glare, though, and eventually she can't help a grin. "Actually, yes, I did do a lot of reading. It isn't as though I had a lot of friends, and I enjoy learning. There's always more to learn, even with the subjects I already know. The galaxy is vast; and more varied, I think, than we can really comprehend. And then there's the multiverse, beyond that. I won't even pretend to be able to comprehend that."

To the matter of the trees, she looks thoughtful, folding her arms over her chest and rubbing at her jaw with one hand. "Maybe. There wasn't any wind, and so long as there wasn't any seismic activity to overturn them, I suppose they'd sit like that for a small eternity. I wonder how long they've stood there? I'll have to account for determining age in my analysis, too. We might be looking at a planet that's been frozen in time for quite some time."

"Of course not. You... haven't really known anything else," Juno points out, almost cautiously. Of course he hasn't; what memories he might have of Kashyyyk have been pushed aside by a mind sparing itself the pain of revisiting them. Those memories are dim and difficult to recollect at best. The Rogue Shadow, and the Empirical, really are his homes. "I remember the warmth of the sun on Corulag, and I like feeling the wind in my hair, but it's easy for me to cope with being in space. As long as I'm not a passenger," she adds, pointedly. "I /hate/ being a passenger."

She shrugs. "Actually, you'd be surprised. Although the Retribution was running a standard crew complement for a II-Class Star Destroyer, I never really saw others very much. Part of that is just the way TIE pilots are fielded." Her tone turns a little more sober. "They're constantly kept in a state of uncertainty. Hunter's anxiety, they call it, and the Navy's upper brass thinks it makes them better pilots. I learned to cope with it early on, although part of that was because I really didn't have much by the point that I'd been assigned to the ship."

She'd written off her father by that point; there would be no earning his approval or his favour. At the time, she wondered if anything ever could. Now, when her mind happens to skip over the topic, she doubts it. When her mother was killed, something in her father had died that day, too, and it would never be restored to him. Returning to Corulag is a notion met with apathy – there's nothing for her there, any more, so there's no pressing reason to go back. At the same time, there's no pressing reason to avoid it. Her father would never seek her out, even if he knew she were alive.

"I suppose it doesn't matter to me which it is; day or night, or a ship's rigid twelve-hour wake cycle. I admit, though, sometimes I like to feel the sun. It's nice to remember what it's like from time to time, if you haven't lived all your life on a ship." One shoulder rolls in a faint shrug. "I don't necessarily /need/ it, but it's a nice thing to have once in a while. A luxury, if you will, when you're living most of your life on some sort of ship or another."

Leaning forward, her eyes skim over the readouts of data on the consoles, lips thinning as she adjusts the calculations here; makes a few minor corrections there. Notably, she does it without consulting the ship's navcomputer, which suggests she's making those horribly complicated calculations /in her head/... her reaction times behind the controls might be good, but she has the brains to be a fantastic pilot, too, apparently.

Once she's finished with that, she leans back in her seat and tugs her cap over her eyes again. "I can understand that, too. I was used to it, but at this point, I think I'm used to the Rogue Shadow. I can't really imagine operating out of a larger ship. And I wouldn't want to pilot something that large, anyway. I suppose it's my TIE experience showing through. If I'm to be at the controls, I'm most comfortable with a starfighter, or something the Rogue Shadow's size."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen chuckles a bit. "So that means I don't have your approval for an orange lightsaber?" he asks. If it proved interesting, he might end up with an orange saber at some point. He IS a crystal fiend, after all. If an interesting orange crystal came along, there they'd be. He offers a small smile, still staring up at the ceiling. He had spent so much time aboard this ship that he often wondered about planet living. He didn't really remember Kashyyyk that well, his first full memories being Vader's tutelage in the Dark Side. Those... weren't particularly fond, but they were solid unlike anything else. Juno's presense had even begun to glass the pain of those over, though.

"No," he says, "Just completing the picture that is Juno Eclipse, Imperial starship pilot," he notes with another chuckle. "It makes a lot of sense. You're smarter than anyone else I know. Granted, that list IS fairly small, but still, you're at the top." He rolls his shoulders. "The Multiverse is a crazy thing, full of crazy Rancor training people and all sorts of other insanity. Like those Materia. Those are still so fascinating..." There's a gleam in his eye for a moment, then it fades out again.

"Yeah, that was strange too. No wind. No... anything. Man, what a planet. It's like the most grim memorial one could possibly think of. Like an effigy to the end of entropy or something. Maybe someone cursed it or something. Seems just as likely here in the Multiverse, right?" He looks at her as she talks about Corulag, and he shrugs again. "I don't really know about enjoying any of that," he says, "They're just sort of part of the mission a lot of times, you know? I guess, though, if you're not hunting on a planet bound and determined to see you dead and eaten, I can see how those might be nice sensations." He doesn't sound emotional about any of this, instead sounding like he's just making a normal statement. His mind works in mysterious and strange ways.

"Yeah, that sounds Imperial alright," he says, a sour note in his tone, "Keep the pilots constantly on edge about the possibility of battle to keep them in an optimal fighting state. They really just need pilot droids. Then again, I guess you can't keep droids in a mindset, huh?" He can sense certain thoughts turning in her head, but decides not to press any issues.

It's Galen's turn to shrug again. Not being able to remember life outside of a ship makes it hard to comment on the differences of life inside one. "I think I get it," he says, "If you're used to something, you kind of want it on some level, even if you've also grown accustomed to something else. It's nature objecting to an abnormal lifestyle that those urges stick around, I'd guess." Sounds logical to him, but once again, his logic is bound to be a bit skewed due to his unique circumstances.

Galen gives a genuine smile, then closes his eyes again and leans back. He wasn't piloting, and PROXY wasn't attacking him, so he was considering allowing himself a little bit of sleep. "This is by far the best ship anyone could hope for. Absolutely no bias on my part whatsoever."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The look she gives him suggests she wants to say something sarcastic, but she doesn't know enough about these things to make an appropriately biting comment. Lightsabers are the purview of the Jedi, and the Sith, who wield them. Chances are good that she'll never unlock the secrets of their engineering, but that's acceptable.

Some mysteries were never meant to be solved – at least not by her. Give her the controls of a good starship or the surety of a blaster in her hands any day. She finds herself wondering, briefly, if there might have been any orange crystals deep in the crust of the abandoned planet. Would they explode, too?

"You know, you /do/ have access to my records. So does PROXY. Everything but the psychological profile." Juno's comment is rife with sarcasm; but she's not motivated enough to reach over and swat him. She does cock an eye toward the controls, but everything appears to be satisfactory; she makes no move to adjust anything. "Even I don't have access to that..." Top of the list, eh? She flushes a little, glossing over the comment as though she hadn't heard it. "The only thing I know of that isn't completely locked down are my Academy records."

"Hm. I think I'll leave the rancors to Lute. I think he's insane, but... he's a little sad, to me, too," she adds, thoughtful. "Even though he's married, it seems like he's alone, too. Those monsters are his family. He really cares about them. I was there when the second rancor started to hatch. You should have seen the look on his face. And try plugging one of those into your lightsaber, or whatever it is you do. I remember you had a few extras."

Juno casts him a flat look. "/Those/ you're not getting your hands on mine. You gave them to me; I'm not giving them back, or you're going to do horrible experimentation on them, and then I'll never see them again. Maybe I'm frankly terrible at using something like that, but sometimes it's an interesting diversion when I've nothing better to do, rare as that may be. And they do make useful tools in working on the ship."

"Magic? Maybe." She seems thoughtful. "That's another good reason to let our Confederate allies test the samples. Some of them are more skilled with magic than technology. I think it'd be wise to check for evidence of both, in this case. If it were a world from our own galaxy, I wouldn't be so sure, but... this is out in unknown space. Anything could have happened."

She glances over to watch him as he describes not missing the feel of certain planetary sensations, and her mouth twists into the faintest hint of a frown. It's... a little sad that he doesn't know what it's like, or that he's so accustomed to spcae that they're no more than nuissances. "That's too bad. Maybe someday, you can visit a place and know what it's like, without having the pressure of having a target there."

"Actually, there are unmanned TIE models, but there's just no replacing a living pilot. A droid can't account for the things that a sentient can. Sometimes you just need to think irrationally to succeed." Juno shows a half-smile, but it's not very mirthful. "And sometimes, you have to do what might seem like the tactical /opposite/ to survive, let alone succeed. The unmanned models are used for supporting the living pilot; sometimes they'll fly point for an entire unmanned squadron. I never flew with any, though, and the Black Eights never used them."

In other words, sometimes it takes being unpredictable. Droids are pretty bad at that. At least, everything she's ever seen of PROXY suggests as much. He's so predictable it's almost like a comforting routine. Well, except for the parts where he's trying to kill Galen, anyway. Those instances aren't very comforting. Not to her.

"Oh? This is the best ship I could hope for, and there's absolutely bias on my part," Juno points out with a grin. Sitting up, she reaches out to pat his arm. Maybe she's noticed how relaxed he looks. "Go back to quarters and have a rest, why don't you? Have a decent sleep on a decent bed; I've had the old cot ripped out and replaced with something I won't land on the floor from. I'll make a few last corrections before we arrive, and I can join you in a little while." She doesn't bother stifling her yawn, even as she watches the console readouts. "I feel like I haven't quite caught up on my sleep, myself."

Galen Marek (731) has posed:
Galen yawns widely now, unable to stifle it any longer. "I know. I could review them at any time. But then I'd miss this lovely, witty banter we have, and that would be a shame." He chuckles a bit, then floats the barrel back to its original position and stands up. He stretches, reaching as high as he can in the motion and popping several things in the process. "Those might be good light reading, though," he adds, chuckling again.

Juno talking about Lute causes Galen a bit of pause. The monsters were his family, much like PROXY and the Shadow were his. Juno in a way, too, but he didn't like to lump her into the 'family' category. "That's... understandable, in a way. Until you came along, it was just me and PROXY. I mean, Vader's not exactly a father figure, and the other pilots were... well... stupid. They didn't speak to me at all, so it was like they weren't even here. So I see where he's coming from there." Of course, now he DID have Juno, so it was more past him now.

He nods, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, some of them seem pretty sharp. Can't trust all of them, but some of them seem pretty alright." Some of them being the ones he remembers. After hunting Shaak Ti for so long, his memories of the Confederacy were pretty shaky most of the time. "They might be able to shed light on what that planet was before, too."

Galen smirks. "Yeah, I have a few smaller ones of my own," he says, in regards to Materia, "At least, I think I still have them. I know I lost a water one chasing after Ti. I think the others are safe, though." He had the idea of slotting one into a lightsaber, but he would have to change the shape of the saber's blade projectors to accomodate a Materia. Still, it would make him the only Sith or Jedi to have an elemental lightsaber, and that was an exciting prospect. His expression softens. "I wouldn't ask for them back, Juno. I gave them to you because I wanted you to have them." He smiles a bit, then yawns again.

"I'm guessing unmanned TIEs are the ones that fly into enemy fire and just blow up, right? Either that or terrible pilots. I guess either way could be correct." He thought about bringing up PROXY as an example of an unpredictable droid, then stops. PROXY was only unpredictable in regards to when he would attack Galen. Everything else was by the books, according to his programming. He didn't think that would quite count.

He laughs again. "You would have bias, and of course I do too. This ship has been mine ever since I was trained by Vader. It's the only real ship aside from the Empirical I've ever known," he says, before popping his neck. "Yes, I think I'll do that. It looked pretty comfortable when you were passed out on it awhile back." He spent her sleeping time meditating for the most part, though just outside the door so PROXY wouldn't come in and bother her. "Make sure you do," he says, his voice teasing. "Good night, Juno."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Shooting you down is more fun, it's true," Juno comments with a half-smile. It's something of a game of theirs; a comfortable routine to fall back on, and it diverts them from the sobering realities of their lives. Or, even worse, the sobering realities of what would happen if their fellow Imperials found out that they were more to one another than than simply Inquisitor and pilot.

She shrugs. "As I said before, I can only assume they gave Lord Vader good reason to kill them. That holds true now as much as it did then. If a pilot does their job competently then they have nothing to fear from him." Actually, there's a lot to fear from him, but she knows enough to keep a sensible head on her shoulders in those few occasions she has audience with him. "He expects his subordinates to do their jobs correctly. As does any officer, when it comes down to it."

"Alright, maybe. I'd rather reserve judgement... I'm still not sure that I can trust them. Lute seems fairly straightforward, much like the monsters he raises and trains. So long as I can keep him distracted from flirting with me, which I believe I've handled neatly by insinuating that the last person to do so may or may not have developed a blaster-bored hole in their chest cavity, he's proven himself a reasonably solid ally." She pauses, along with a grin. "I've done no such thing, of course, but it never hurts. It's the sort of thing I might do if I were alone on, say, Malastare." The grin fades. "I'm not so certain about the others. I'll have to continue watching them."

She glances to the side, narrowing her eyes at the co-pilot console's displays, and then studying her own for a moment. Her gaze slides to Galen even as she keys in her corrections; it's not necessary for her to watch what she's doing, after all. The Rogue Shadow's controls are so familiar to her she can handle them in her sleep, and she's probably been close enough to fatigue before to have done so.

"Hmn." She sighs. "At least the materia was the only thing you've lost, wandering around Felucia for that long. I can't imagine it. Half a day is enough time for me, and I haven't even set foot on the surface, except to check over the ship. Even that was enough to send me into the 'fresher for hours." And even then, no amount of showering was enough to get rid of the crawling sensation of still needing to shower.

To the TIE pilots, she only shrugs. "Maybe. I've actually never seen unmanned starfighters in action. I only know that they're produced by certain Sienar Fleet Systems shipyards. There were some present on the Retribution, but my squadron was never deployed at the same time. I'd always wanted to take a look at the inner workings of one... but they never seemed quite as good as droid intelligence, to me. I got the impression that the unmanned TIE governances weren't capable of observing or learning." A fatal flaw in any system, and one that would doubtless get itself ironed out by its engineers. Or maybe those engineers executed in due short order.

Leaning forward, she stretches, casting the controls one last look. Everything seems to be in order, and the autopilot has already kicked in to correct any marginal errors. PROXY can keep one of those yellow photoreceptors on it, just in case anything happens, but it's still fairly safe to leave the ship to fly itself. The Rogue Shadow's systems are cutting edge, after all.

"Excellent. I suppose I'll join you, then," she adds, following into the ship's modest crew quarters. "I'll wake before we leave hyperspace. If I'm not guiding the ship into the Empirical, someone's going to get suspicious." Like Vader. To his admonishment, she only grins, even as she's shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it over the room's single desk chair. "Aye, Inquisitor, sir."

Her retort is sarcastic, as expected, but she doesn't give him much opportunity to respond. No sooner has she curled up on the cot than she's out like a light – her TIE pilot training is good for that, if nothing else; being able to sleep practically on command. But she does manage one last response before she lets herself drift.

"Good night, Galen."