First Reply Beneath the Storm

[Rin Tohran]

Being cooped up with a handful of others aboard the On The Mauve was proving to have some teething problems, on account of being a solo show for so long. Less of a thing about trust and more to do with a shared space. There was only so many times he could trip over that hound or bump into Morrow, or Damien, or Davik, or Talin before he was on the verge of tearing his hair from his scalp and scream murder. Hunted people looked out for one another, some honour in that Rin could hardly fault, but there was no real price on his head. Suppose Rin never felt the same pressures.

He took a job that gave him some breathing room. On a borrowed ship, Rin set out to the galactic north in that corridor between the Black Sun and Mandalorian space. Rin gave out a nice, long sigh, tucking clasped hands behind his head and crossed ankles over the dash. For once, there was quiet. Only the hum of the ship. If only it could last forever. Naturally, it could not. It was as if the powers that be themselves had decided to intervene, as a slew of signatures blinked to life across the scanners. At a glance, Rin knew: pirates.

Flying the flag of the Black Sun was only worth as much as the fear it instilled in others, and not all the crime syndicates had been so fond of the promise of an eternal eclipse.

Rin took off, racing into the nearest system. It didn't even register on the nav computer, but scanners told him it was a sea of cyclones and electrical superstorms. Diving into the nebula, their attempt at hailing him cut off, only to be replaced by cannon fire. A loud thoom cracked over the hull and the ship flashed red with warning, sending it into a plummet. He pulled up on the stick, prying with all his might, and the ship crashed and skid across the grassy ground, upturning the earth beneath it. Glancing out the viewport, a ship with the markings of a Hutt Kajidic erupted into a fireball, with the two others nowhere to be seen.

Taking in the mess from the outside, Rin could not help but at least miss R4. Or Morrow, or Damien, or Davik, or Talin.

 

[Ayra Lowe]

// Padawan Lowe //
// Ashla //
// Objective // Survive //
// Focus // // Rin Tohran //

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"I shouldn't even fething be here."

A metal boot crashed against the control panels of the escape pod before it loudly whined against the girls thrashing, lights and noises blaring against the quiet storms of the space outside.

"Oh shut up."

A simple scout mission into the distance of the galaxy had turned into an absolute mess, the frigate she had joined torn asunder by pirates or slavers or whatever other scum managed their way out to these reaches of the galaxy. The frustration built around the cheeks of the woman as a blue gem of a planet finally glowed in the distance.

Ayra prayed that it was some salvation at last, she would take any signs of civilisation at this point. The last few days droning a deathly loneliness into the Echani, but her prayers would not be answered yet. As the escape pod latched onto the gravitational pull of the orb below it didn't take long for the atmosphere to give way to a sight of violent storms and turbulent seas.

Frustration gave way to fear of a watery death on some no-named planet at the edge of the galaxy, her plans of using her Jedi training to heal the galaxy buried in some sea nobody ever bothered naming. This fear only grew as the sounds of thunder grew louder as the escape pod crashed into the clouds, electricity racing passionately through the droplets.

It wouldn't take long for one of them to caress her pod, striking violently into the side of the vehicle. The panels split apart, igniting in a bright flame that would not be put out. Tracing a path of flame in the sky like a meteorite, it would trace its way to the surface of the planet before crashing into the ground below. Its passenger would be no less damaged, the controls of the pod failing to brace the landing as it crashed.

A streak of red grew quickly in the girl's silver mane as the control panels took revenge from the kick as her head slammed into them, ripping consciousness away from Ayra. A kindness of sort as she would be quietly ushered into death as the flame slowly grew across the pod, waiting to creep into the pod and claim it's prize of flesh and bone.

 

[Rin Tohran]

The Jedi awoke to the sounds of a soft, faint breeze and the distant thrum of overhead storms; cresting the skies amid the crimson hued nebulae, flashes of bright white-blue lightning shimmered to life. She was laid out on something soft... ish, with a canteen to the left of her. The air smelt of salt and ash, from lapping waves against the stony shore and the charred, burnt out remains of a vessel faintly bearing the markings of the Hutt Kajidic clans. Though a constant sparking brzzt rang out louder, with Rin atop the freighter bearing unoriginal parts haphazardly slapped on.

Seeing her stir, he lifted the goggles from his eyes and squinted.

"Oh, hey." He brushed sweat from his brow.

Ayra Lowe

 

[Ayra Lowe]

// Padawan Lowe //
// Ashla //
// Objective // Survive //
// Focus // // Rin Tohran //

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The pale blue eyes of the Padawan weakly shuttered open, consciousness slowly returning to the Echani. They were hazy at first but quickly sharpened to their senses as she saw a figuring hovering above her. A hand instinctively jolted to the girl's side in an attempt to fetch her lightsaber, but grasped nothing but air.

The hand lingered, however, whether the Chiss' imagination wanted to summon a blaster or a lightsaber didn't matter to the girl. As long as he didn't draw any closer to her.

"Stay away from me!"

The words attempted to summon strength, but there was no hiding the weakness the girl felt. A stinging sensation pierced her skull, and a free hand reflexively made it's made to her bloody hair in a vain attempt to soothe the pain.

 

[Rin Tohran]

"Huh," his mouth slacked open with the lift of his brow. "Oh, great. Mustn't remember." Rin mumbled, seemingly indifferent as to whether the girl heard him or not.

Standing up, he strode forwards across the bowed front of the freighter. One of the legs was crushed, a gnarled mess of metal underneath itself. If nothing else, it made for a convenient ramp.

"You were in some crash," he faintly gestured a ways off, somewhere to the east. "I pulled you out of the pod and dragged you back here."

Literally, maybe. If those dirt stains on the back of her pants made for any indication.

Rin put the welder back on his hip, where it then sat next to an item awfully familiar: her lightsaber. Jedi or Sith, at a glance it was impossible to say and anyone with those dangerous glowsticks was a potential problem, for one reason or another. A futile thing to take it, maybe, but a precaution all the same.

Ayra Lowe

 

[Ayra Lowe]

// Padawan Lowe //
// Ashla //
// Objective // Survive //
// Focus // // Rin Tohran //

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The crashing of thunder did little to ease the intense thrumming in the head of the Echani as she tried to gather her bearing. The escape pod she took was nowhere to be seen, the man must have dragged her from it. He earned at least a little benefit of the doubt she thought to herself, but this area remained pirate territory. Slavers came in many shapes and forms after all.

There was little the girl could do about it at this point, the glint of her lightsaber to the side of the man told her all she need know about her situation. Whether a benefactor or enemy, she was this man's prisoner at this point. What little strength Ayra could wield would be unable to lift the saber from his belt.

So for now she would have to play along.

"I suppose I owe you my thanks then." Her eyes darted weakly to her lightsaber once again as her hand gave way from its feint. "I don't suppose I could convince you to return that to me, though?"