Public And Still the Lights Burn

[Scherezade deWinter]

Somewhere in the Unknown Regions
Unknown Planet​

The distress signal had been repeating for forty-seven years.

Twelve words. Static-choked. A voice that didn't even sound human anymore, warped by time and vacuum until it was little more than a hum with syllables embedded in it, a heartbeat beneath the noise. Scherezade hadn't meant to find it at all, the ping had hidden itself in a spectrum no beacon had occupied in a very long time. But somehow, ever since her last visit to Denon, it had scratched across the back of her mind until she gave in and followed.

Now, here she was.

The outpost hung in orbit above a gas giant the color of spoiled honey, its storm bands rolling slow and heavy beneath her ship. The station looked skeletal, ribs of metal rising out of shadow, half of it missing where the gravity tethers had failed. A thousand kilometers of silent machinery, long stripped of purpose that somehow, still glowed.

She didn't get it. Systems this old should've failed centuries ago. The auxiliary energy grid would've corroded, the fusion cells gone cold. Yet every docking beacon blinked a perfect pattern, and it felt as though it had been waiting for her. She really hoped it hadn't. Even the Sithling had her own limits when it came to certifiably crazy.

The hatch opened with a loud and creaky groan. The air that met her smelled of rust and microwaved recycled death. She stepped through anyway, her boots landing on a grating that thrummed faintly beneath her soles. The power was low but steady. Something was still feeding it.

Here goes nothing…

 

[Jak Meridian]

Space was cold. It was the only place Jak believed the dead truly found peace. In the silence of the void.

Yet through its endless darkness there was a faint call. It was one of uncertainty with decades of decay surrounding it. The dead don't speak in space. Though some may view it as a distraction, Jak was an opportunist. Money didn't matter to him. But potential power? A new steadfast ally? Surely the call wouldn't only reach his ears, not when so many are actively trying to listen. With haste Jak had found himself at its source: a derelict station with no obvious sign of ownership.

The station's power was running at minimal. Strips of light lit the floorways to guide one and the sound of corroding metal echoed the halls. Despite moving through a few halls now, Jak was unable to detect anyone or anything. But something was keeping this place running. Something was here.

In the distance he could hear something. No, feel it. The station rocked for a moment. Someone new has arrived, as he had predicted. Discovering the origin of the call wasn't why he was here, after all.

He began walking down the halls with unblinking eyes. After a few moments he could sense her: another force sensitive. He stopped a moment, sensing her somewhere ahead. "Friend," he telepathically projected, "Or foe?"

It was a risk reaching out without knowing- but Jak was all about risk.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Jak Meridian

---

Scherezade blinked. Something shifted. The hum beneath the metal grew deeper, turning from vibration into pulse, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. She froze in the corridor, one hand still on the wall. The light above her head flickered twice, like a blink.

Then came the voice. Not through ears. Through the marrow. A ripple that passed under her skin like static electricity. Friend. Or foe? She paused her movements. The station had been whispering since she arrived, but this was different. Sharper. Human? And threaded with the unmistakable echo of the Force.

She turned slowly, already knowing what she'd find. She scanned the corridor behind her. Empty, as expected. But the air seemed thicker now, the recycled atmosphere vibrating with presence. She could feel another awareness pushing against the edges of her perception. Not quite hidden, but more like… She wasn't sure if careful was the right word to use for the situation.

A hunter's presence.

Scherezade closed her eyes and let her own awareness slip outward like smoke. The outpost groaned around her, as though alive with a thousand faint heartbeats, but beneath it all was the flare of someone else. Distant, moving closer.

Friend or foe, the voice had said.

She smiled faintly, though there was no humour reflected on her facial features. She didn't answer.

Reaching inward, she dampened her presence to a faint ember, letting the Force coil low in her gut. If this newcomer wanted to speak, they could come find her. The outpost itself seemed willing to play along, its lights dimming ahead of her, shadows lengthening into strange, liquid shapes that swallowed the corridor's end.

As she moved forward towards where she thought the voice's owner might be, another tremor passed through the floor plating. Dust sifted down from a ruptured vent overhead. Somewhere, something metallic struck the deck with a hollow clang.

She passed through another bulkhead into a larger chamber. Consoles lined the walls, dead for decades except one, a central display flickering weakly, its glow washing her in sickly blue light.

The screen pulsed, heartbeat-slow, syncing almost perfectly with the rhythm of her own chest.

And now she ran out of patience. Her presence in the Force flared out as she reached to the voice that had spoken to her, now sending a message of her own. You heard it too, right?

 

[Jak Meridian]

Through the void the stranger responded with a question of their own. He thought a moment, recalling the echoes of metal that surrounded him. He then turned his attention back to the stranger, who was apparently a woman. Her single question was straight to the point and disregarded his own.

Yet it also revealed much. Despite coming here for the derelict distress signal, it seemed this stranger was here for something else. Or, perhaps, something was waiting for her? The truth was unknown- the future a constantly shifting storm. Even the most skilled seers couldn't see it all. But her response told him enough to begin speculating.

Whoever she was didn't matter, ultimately. At least not until they met and Jak could determine if they were a potential foe or ally. For now all he could do was press forward. As he made his way through the dimly lit halls he extended himself through the Force, "I heard something," he echoed, "But what and where? No."

As he reached an unpowered door, Jak could sense the stranger just beyond. Raising his hands towards the door he took a breath. His mind quickly filled with those he hunted and those he hated.

SMASH!!!

Within an instant his hands had closed and the unpowered door crumpled inwards on itself. The commotion sent a thunderous echo throughout the station. It continued bouncing off the walls of screens and computers even as Jak walked in, standing at the opposite side of the room from the stranger.

The room was the darkest he had seen so far with only a few emergency lights providing sight. The stranger, however, was caked in the blue glow of the only active computer. Jak gave a nod, "Friend," he said, answering his own question for her.

Moving through the maze of terminals and computers that made up this chamber, Jak quickly found himself only a few screens down from the stranger. The entire time he ensured to have his palms out and even let his sabers, which were normally hidden beneath his cloak, display prominently. He didn't expect instant trust but hoped his calming approach would ease any doubt about his intentions, without giving them away either.

"Jak," he introduced himself, now standing firmly before her, "Learn anything?"

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Jak Meridian

---

So her stranger had heard it as well. Scherezade nodded to no one. There was something she knew she was supposed to be doing there, in front of the console, but the exact thing escaped for now. Instead, she focused on feeling the vibrations through the ground, her senses all attuned and beyond the usual level of sensitivity she allowed herself to feel. Something was… No, not something. Someone. Her stranger.

When he blasted into the room, her body remained as casual as it had been earlier, even before he claimed her as friend. Though his weapons were out to show her that he meant her no harm, Scherezade's own armour concealed quite a few blades, and she never showed everyone everything she carried on with her. Except one person, but he wasn't there with them.

"Scherezade," she grinned in an almost too childlike manner after he introduced himself. This was nice. This was refreshing. The number of times people didn't just try to out right kill her was growing, and it was such a weird sensation after having entire years of absolutely no one trying to do that go by. Then again, the galaxy itself was a lot softer than what took place beyond its edge, even if it thought itself to be ridiculously tough.

Learned anything? She chewed on her lower lip for a moment.

"This ship should be dead," she decided to tell him not too many seconds after that, going Full Kessel on this, "instead, it's been beeping for decades. Something is still powering it, and it should've corroded and dropped planet-side ages ago. There's something here, I'm just not sure what. Could be a monster. Could be an artifact. Could be something I'm looking for."

She paused then, eying Jak and… Scenting him. To him, it would look like she was just inhaling. But what she was doing as she did so, was sniffing the smell of his blood out. For all intents and purposes, Scherezade considered herself mostly human. But she had a gift with blood, which she had decided to title as Blood Hound abilities. She'd yet to find another Blood Hound in the 'verse.

Focusing again, she inhaled a second time in short succession. Male, human. Or close enough to human for her senses to title him as such. Her senses wouldn't pick up on the cyborg parts of him, and there was no reason for her to notice his blood pumped slightly less than your average human to support them.

But why was he here?

"How'd you end up here?" she asked, her voice casual, almost as though they were sitting for coffee and getting to know each other.

 

[Jak Meridian]

Yet more information revealed. It seems his intuition was correct and this stranger, Scherezed as she introduced herself as, was here looking for something specific. But what? The source of this station's minimal life? And why- to destroy it or harness it? Despite learning a name and potential motive, there was still an aura of mystery that surrounded the situation he found himself in. Around this stranger.

Jak examined her as she did so with him. Her calm demeanor would fool most but not a fellow acolyte of the Force. Her mere gaze are at Jak for a brief moment. She was strong... hungry. He only returned to reality as she once again brought him a question: how did he get here?

Letting his stance relax a little, he leaned onto one of the dead consoles nearby for support as his arms folded loosely on his chest. "Luck," he stated calmly, "I was doing routine repairs on my ship when my navcom picked up a distress signal," he explained, his tone was calm and collected. Confident yet mellow. A half-truth. He, unlike most force-sensitives, did believe in luck. However luck was only part of why he felt he was here- the other was for her, or anyone else like her. This calmness that surrounded him would appear natural to most- but she wasn't like most, and very likely could sense the bubbling hate and anger that swelled beneath it all.

It was clear to him that neither was going to give up much information willingly, at least not yet. But before he could say anything else the sound of twisting and grating metal grew louder, emitting in the halls Jak had just arrived from. The man straightened himself and turned his gaze towards the ruined door, "Whatever it is," he said, referring to the approaching sound, "I think it knows where here." Drawing his lightsabers, but not yet igniting them, he turned towards the stranger. "

Scherezade deWinter

 

[IG-322]

THUNK.

THUNK. THUNK.

THUNK THUNK.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

The unpleasant, and downright cataclysmic noise of metal being torn from itself echoed throughout the confines of the ship. The outter hull of the vessel buckling, and then slowly beginning to tear. It's very metal ripping as though it were made of paper. A feat most would find surprising, if not impossible. But, Durasteel could be ripped with a fair enough effort. Particularly by those who possessed the capabilities of In-organics. Meaning, it helped to have metal hands.

IG-322 fell onto the deck of the ship with a heavy metal thud. The step of It's frame echoing only through the sound of rushing air which breezed passed it. The barest hint of whatever power-generators still operating aboard quickly firing into gear as a ray-shield attempted to flicker into place over the hole the Droid had made.

Not that it made much of a difference.

Up ahead the bulkheads were already closed, and IG suspected that it would be much the same behind. The ship had been abandoned, and the section It had decided to break into particularly so. There were already other life-signs aboard, and 322 had no intention of running into them if they could be avoided.

The Droid was learning more and more than Organics tended to be...unpredictable. A factor which the holo-vids It had been fed throughout it's infancy had not been indicative of.

There had always seemed to be a plan in those.