Fourteen hours ago...
A blaring screech brought Ryv to consciousness as the sound of his alarm echoed through his bedroom. He groaned his complaints at the stationary device before reaching out to clumsily deactivate it. Several failed attempts eventually turned to success as the grinding sound came to an end. The kiffar rolled onto his back and stared up at the bland, white ceiling of his apartment. Joining the Imperium provided him a small home on Coruscant, something he lacked since his departure from the Jedi Order years earlier. It was nice having a home again, but the planet itself brought back memories, some good, some bad, but it didn't matter anymore. What mattered was the purpose the Imperium brought back to his life. It was likely the only reason the kiffar bothered dragging himself out of bed before noon.
Ryv threw his legs over the bed to press against the cold floor below and pushed himself to his feet. He crossed the room to the bathroom and turned on the sink. Splashing cold water against his face, he went through the morning routine before turning the faucet off. He dried his face off with the towel hanging nearby before catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A tired-looking young man stared back at him, one he couldn't recognize. He had grown used to a sweaty brow, hollowed cheeks, and bloodshot eyes that seeing himself in a healthier state of living was still a shock half a year later. Only the scars remained of his past life.
None of them were particularly imposing. A few nasty cuts from an errant vibroblade, some burns from a well-placed blaster, but nothing you'd expect on a battle-hardened warrior. Just a bunch of signs pointing to the street thug he used to be.
With a shake of his head, Ryv turned and padded out of the bathroom. He crossed through the small apartment until he found the kitchen. Already, the small servant droid provided by the Imperium had breakfast ready and on the table. Ryv eyed the plate, unable to suppress the rumble within his belly. There were three things Ryv loved more than anything else. A good pun, getting high, and breakfast.
"
Good morning, Ryv. I have provided a meal that includes all the necessary food groups for a young Kiffar mid-recovery."
"
Yeah dude, I can see that," Ryv sat down and began to pick at the steaming omelet. Until the droid arrived in his home, Ryv thought he hated vegetables. He learned he was wrong. "
I still can't believe spinach, onions, and potatoes can taste good with this. You've really outdone yourself, CF."
"
Thank you, Ryv. I am required to inform you, you are expected in a holocall in ten minutes."
"
Cedric, again? Didn't we just finish up with the shovel-faced things?"
"
The vulptereens, and yes you did. However, he has an assignment for you."
"
Whatever man, just put em through," Ryv began to lazily munch on his breakfast as his mind began racing. Cedric had provided him with so much and the kiffar was thankful for it. A part of him knew he didn't deserve any of it, but he didn't want to let his master down; not again. His brooding continued until the Imperator's voice broke the silence. It startled Ryv to the point he jumped in his chair. It was also the unfortunate moment he realized he was still only in his boxer briefs, not something a bit more presentable. "
Ah maaan."
"
I'll make this short, Ryv. Our intelligence division has just picked up a Sacheen II-class Light Frigate, one of our own.”
“
Yeah…. And?”
“
We didn’t know it was missing.”
“
O-oh,” Ryv’s brow furrowed as he considered the revelation. The Imperium prided itself on the function and success of all aspects of its military. For a frigate to go missing without anyone noticing, well, that was a big problem. One someone would likely be losing a job over. “
I can’t pilot a frigate, chief.”
“
You will be sent ahead to gather intelligence. In fourteen hours we’ll be sending in various teams to ascertain what happened and I do not want them going in blind. Understood?”
“
Yeah man,” the young kiffar managed a salute, fork in hand.
“
And Ryv,” the Imperator paused momentarily, his hands clasped together behind his back. “
Be careful.”
Twelve hours ago...
A lone Defender-II class starfighter exited hyperspace at the provided coordinates Ryv received two hours earlier. He looked ahead to see the massive frigate floating aimlessly through space, seemingly unphased by the fact its power was off and it was alone. The sight sent a shiver down his spine, but he pushed on and angled the ship to enter the nearest hangar. He set the ship down carefully before popping open the cockpit to climb out.
Booted feet landed with a thud as Ryv made contact with the hangar floor. The sound echoed through the hangar, leaving a sense of unease to settle on the kiffar. He looked around the dimly lit room before raising the wrist communicator to his lips.
“
This is Ryv, checking in. I’ve arrived at the point of interest, no contact made thus far,” static crackled from the device in answer. “
I repeat, its Ryv. Can anyone hear me?” several long seconds of silence followed the padawan’s question. “
Son of a queen… alright, whatever. I’m gathering intel, what can go wrong?”
Ryv pushed past the hangar and into one of the various halls connected to it. Aside from the emergency lights that flickered off every so often, the ship was a dull shade of red. He gripped his lightsaber in his right hand but did not activate it, instead choosing the more subtle approach of not bearing a massive green glowstick in the cold, empty ship. While he hoped nothing else was aboard the ship, it was safer not to draw unwanted attention in the unfortunate event there was someone else slinking through the deserted halls.
He continued moving through the ship, room by room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. It began to appear as if everyone just up and abandoned the ship, but it made zero sense. Why go through all the trouble of stealing the ship, only to abandon it when the Imperium had no idea it was taken in the first place? There were so many holes in that line of reasoning, yet Ryv prayed that was the case. Gathering intel was something he was decent at. Fighting off hidden assassins, an enemy crew, or even a potential Sith? Hell no, that wasn’t his thing. He was never really a fighter, more of a runner. He had gotten good at running from his problems. First Coruscant, then his father, the Sith, the Jedi. That list was a rabbit hole he had begun to quickly fall into.
Drip
Ryv’s eyes shot open at the noise. For so long, the only sounds to accompany his overactive mind was his heavy footfalls, soft breaths and the sound of his father’s leather jacket. The sudden introduction of something new set his danger sense through the roof. He looked left and right as he sought out the source of the disturbance, but even the lone dripping noise echoed throughout the room in the harsh silence surrounding it.
With nothing to go on, Ryv pushed forward. He moved across the room he was in, which looked like a set of sleeping quarters for a unit of soldiers. Nothing over the top, simple, efficient, the way the Imperium worked overall.
Drip
Again the sound came, sending a steam of cacophonous echoes crashing around the kiffar. Again he sought out the source of the noise. It wasn’t his eyes or ears that managed to locate the source, but instead his sense of smell.
The smell of iron permeated the air.
Drip
Ryv followed it to the best of his ability. He was better than most at tracking considering he had a bit of an advantage afforded to him by his species, but tracking through smell was something he had much less practice with. Eventually, he stumbled upon a small trail of crimson that appeared to run intp the room from out in the hall. Taking a deep breath Ryv moved out into the hall and began to follow it. He had to guess it was no older than a few hours given it hadn’t begun to coagulate yet, but each species was different.
Drip
It didn’t matter at the end of the day. It seemed fresh enough that whoever it belonged to could still be alive. One foot in front of the other, Ryv hurried down the hall. His slow gait increased in pace until he was running forward. Time seemed to stretch out around him as he ignored his better senses. He turned a corner and his hand shot up to suppress a scream.
Drip
A broken and torn body was pinned to the wall by a jagged, black metal rod. His eyes frozen open in a mix of horror and shock, his mouth hung open as if he was caught midway through a scream of pain and terror.
Ryv recoiled immediately. He fell back and hit the floor with a grunt, sending another series of echoes through the halls of the ship. He scrambled away until he was opposite the corpse, his back pressed against the wall. His breathing came in ragged gasps as he failed to keep calm. The kiffar’s eyes were locked on the dead man’s own, empty gaze. It wasn’t until Ryv heard the faint sound of a footstep in the distance was he able to tear his eyes away.
Something else was out there.
And it knew he was there too.
