Private Don't touch anything.

[In Rhan]

Days passed before In and Niysha managed to make port somewhere worth being. Taking apart the engine manifold to repair the faulty wiring was a big job, and it took a couple more days to do - days that were also spent picking up a couple of hauling contracts that'd take them back towards the core along the lokaido. After Medi-Creen, In felt it was just nice to be somewhere with working lights, more than one place to eat, and no metallic horrors attempting to eat her face. It was hard to tell what Niysha felt sometimes.

The woman was aloof, but never quite distant. Stoic, until excited - then the words flowed like water. When something made her laugh loudly, she usually seemed more surprised than In was. In never knew exactly how the Miralukan was going to react to most things, but it was always nice to find out. Today was one of those days. They were loaded for bear and fully fueled, which meant it was finally time to get on their way. In had slipped down a cantina to get a quick nip to pass the time - there she'd heard an interesting rumor, which had led to a light negotiation with a rather handsome fellow with a penchant for art.

A bag of last-minute shopping over her shoulder, In bounced into the Dancer's full cargo bay with a graceful swish. A long, theatrical press of the comms button made the PA crackle. "Oh Crewman NiiiIIyshaaa~" In sang into the intercom. "Please report to the galley, I've got an early lifeday present for you."

Niysha was likely closer to the galley than she was, so she'd get to see In strut into the room like a runway model - exuding buckets of smug confidence as she pulled a brassy cryptex from her bag. "Look what I've got! It can be yours for such a low price. I'm told it has a map to a facility where a painting is stored... a painting that screams in the night, and answers to calls in an ancient language."

 

[Niysha]

Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.

Niysha was completely alone on the ship for the first time in... actually, ever. It'd been a few days for the two of them to manage to get back to an actual working starport, even a free-standing one like this. Refueling took an hour or two, but repairs would take days. This had left plenty of time to walk around a proper, populated station. Niysha didn't have a lot in the way of options to sell off artifacts to anyone who would pay more than a couple hundred credits for them, so instead she just waited. This was In's territory, after all, not hers.

For today, that meant she had the ship to herself. She spent it in her quarters with the doors closed, meditating openly. She recounted every recent encounter she had, every brush with death, every surprising triumph. Each was a source of deep emotion and terrible passion, but she needed to concentrate to squeeze them for every drop they had. The relic floated around her as she floated off the floor, at peace in the tempest of her own aura. A tempest that was less and less fearful and more and more excited with every passing encounter and endeav-

"Ack!" There was a tremendous thud as she, the relic, and a few other things in the room clattered to the ground, her telekinesis interrupted by the sound of the intercom. Niysha didn't complain openly, of course, but she did take a minute to clean up her quarters and put the relic away before she found her way out to the galley.

"Something I can do for you, Captain Rhan?" Her tone wasn't quite short, but she was absolutely fixing her hair, which seemed to be a mess for some mysterious reason.

 

[In Rhan]

In realized too late that she'd done her whole schpeil to an empty room. She'd expected Niysha to be in the galley, she'd anticipated it - hell, for a moment she'd have sworn she saw her there. Space madness was clearly setting in. Or maybe she was just so hard-up that she was seeing thick legs and black tank tops where there were none. It was a little astounding, though, how much she'd gotten used to Niysha's presence around The Dancer after just a couple of days.

"You missed the whole thing." In complained, slumping her shoulders. With a chuckle, the Pantoran flipped a bronze cylinder around in her hands, the lubricated dials on the outside spinning at all the motion. Unbeknownst to In, the crypex she was using as a prop contained something heavily saturated in malevolent energy - a humanskin map wrapped around a dull red kyber crystal. In leaned a hip against the table, smirking at Niysha.

Treasure in hand. Cargo hold full. A lead on a buyer for The Thing. Low-slung denim that gave her confidence even if Niysha couldn't see how nice they looked on her. Everything was going her way.

"I picked up a present for you. A guy down at the canteen says this thing has a map to a facility with a talking painting or something similar." In explained, setting the cryptex on the table behind her. "What are you willing to do for it, I wonder? This seems the sort of thing a Niysha would crave..." The Pantoran teased in a mild singsong.

 

[Niysha]

Niysha cocked her head at a very slight angle and offered a small smile. "A gentle reminder that I can see through walls," she replied, then had a seat at the galley table and resumed fixing her hair. On this station she'd picked up new clothes, so she got to have full pants on the ship now. Small blessings. She held out her hand to accept the thing, noting before she even touched it how it had any aura at all, let alone a slightly potent one.

"I don't think you'll like what's inside here, In," she quietly, almost dispassionately offered when she took the container from the Pantoran's hand. "I can't read it, but the contents of this little puzzle box aren't wholesome."

Still, she might be more open to it considering what good shape they were both in at the moment. Niysha had a couple of days to recuperate after her last big adventure, and settle into her new - if however temporary - home, and In was rocking a fully loaded ship with appointments. That alone might have dulled the blow of... well, actually, Niysha didn't really know how "normal" people responded to humanskin anything.

After looking at the cylinder for a couple of seconds, she rested it on the table, still in her hand, and visibly turned her face towards In. "How was your wander today? You seem in good spirits."

 

[In Rhan]

In never knew exactly how the Miralukan was going to react to most things, and sometimes that meant zero playing along with the teasing In had been planning to do before giving her a cool old thing. Which was apparently a loathsome old thing. She handed the cryptex over without a fuss, pouting only a little bit.

"I kind of figured it'd be something gross, considering the guy I bought it from." In sighed. "But! All the more reason you should have it since you generally tend to know what to do with nasty old art pieces. I'm not going to pretend to understand. I don't have to understand to try and help out. Especially not for the pocket change I got that thing for. Guy couldn't seem to get rid of it quick enough." Laughing at her own good deal-making, In poured herself a cup of tea and Niysha a mug of caff, as had become her routine whenever they were hanging out in the Galley.

"I AM in good spirits. Got a full berth, and it's all going in the direction we want to go. Cromslor gave us three fresh citrons today, the engines are finally working right, and I've got a new pair of boots." In chirped. "How could I be anything other than happy? It's a beautiful day. How's YOUR business gone - you about ready to get out of here? Got anywhere you want to stop or get dropped off?"

 

[Niysha]

Niysha respectfully did not fiddle with the thing in her hands as she listened, making sure her attention was on In for as long as the conversation was happening. It was an adjustment. Normally she'd just... do things when she felt like them, but it would be very rude to not give her captain her undivided attention. Being rude was something she'd begun to care quite a bit about. Just being rude. Nothing else in the room. It was all exclusively out of kindness.

In's new wardobe had her aura looking bright and vibrant. It was a lovely and preferable distraction to the pile of negativity in her hands.

"Well enough. I got a bit of a wardrobe update, now that I have closet space." Not even had closet space "again." She had basically never had it, save the time she was training with Leos. And even then... she hadn't had anything to put in it. Now, she had a small wardrobe with multiple pairs of shoes, including one fancy set, as well as both formal and casual clothes for at least two climates each, and two sets for mucking around the freighter. She was assured they were all in darks and neutrals, and sensed no lie in the salesman's words.

For now, it was loose, silky pants that were a little snug around her rear and a similarly fitting top. The fruits of her labor. Not including all of the meditation. "I don't have any plans at the moment. Your operation is mobile, which suits my needs pretty well. If I'm not offensive to have around, I wouldn't mind staying on a bit longer."

They, largely speaking, had matching goals. Or at least parallel goals.

 

[In Rhan]

"Trust me, you're not offensive to have around." In promised quickly, a little loudly. The urgency of needing to assure Niysha that she was welcome had struck her. "Like, really. Having you around has been pretty great. Even if we can't offload that statue, I-" The Pantoran woman paused a moment, catching her tongue. She tended to ramble, and being flustered only exacerbated her tendency to run at the mouth. She had to pick her words very carefully here, lest she fuck everything up and create a failure pileup.

Rather than sit down, In turned and sat on the table, one leg still on the floor and the other atop it so she could face Niysha. "Cards on the table, Frizz. I'd love to have you onboard in a more formal way - like, paying you for your time. You bring cool skills to the ship, you help out constantly, you're good company-" She explained. "No pressure or anything. After we sell the statue, if you want to stick around... I have room for you." The Pantoran woman promised.

"Independent of that entirely, and one hundred percent unrelated and not at all contingent etcetera." In continued, shifting her hands from side to another as though moving a box from left to the right. Separating an idea with physical space. "If you're at all interested, I'd love to go get dinner sometime, if you're interested? Somewhere off of the ship. We have dinner together on the ship all the time, this would be - you know." Pause. Rubbing the bridge of her nose while waving her hand in a circle. "Romantically intended. A date. If you'd like. Because I would." She explained

A quick wave of her hands. "B-But don't, like, feel pressure to accept! I'm perfectly happy hiring you and not dating you, my life won't fall apart. And I guess the other way around could also be true, if you wanted to... date, but put some physical space between us?" Headtilt. That felt clumsy. She shook her head. "You know what I mean. You usually do. And obviously you can have the little cylinder thing regardless, I just thought you might like it."

 

[Niysha]

Being very definitely and explicitly welcomed on the Dancer was definitely a relief. Or maybe an encouragement? It was difficult to tell the difference at this point. Niysha had, at the very least, an idea of where she stood. Valued member of the crew. Excellent place to start from. Niysha allowed herself a smile for at least a few seconds as she processed the first part of that... before coming to the back end.

Romance? That seemed... maybe like an imprudent idea, given the very large and very heavy secret of omission she was keeping from In. She hesitated for quite a while to put together her words, tumbling them over in her head for a bit. Her hands had long since dropped the freaky skin-map-puzzle-box and now rested clasped together in front of her mouth. Eventually, she was ready to speak.

"Thank you for the welcome. I appreciate it and I'll gladly stay on your crew as long as my interests and your route continue to intersect." She physically indicated a change in topic. "Independent of that, the attraction is mutual. You're pleasing to look at, you're kind and funny, and I appreciate how you can't help but talk about the things you enjoy."

Pregnant pause. They both knew what was coming. "But."

Niysha stopped herself, her face landing on a confused expression, and she held up one hand. "I'll be back. Please give me a second." The Miraluka walked off to her room, dug into her personal affects - specifically that bag that she'd been carrying since she'd met In - and brought the whole thing back with her. She sat it on the galley table, unzipped the top, and dug around in her clothes, beneath artifacts, beneath her datapad...

To produce a lightsaber.

 

[In Rhan]

Oh.

Okay.

Encouraging. Pleasing to look at was, as of that moment, In's favorite complement. The moment Niysha left the room, the Pantoran woman threw a triumphant fist into the air with sufficient energy to slam her hand into the low ceiling of the galley and nearly abraise a knuckle. She hissed and bit down to keep from yelping, and when Niysha returned from her room with the important-looking bag she paused sucking on the small wound so she wouldn't look like a lunatic. Full attention. Locked in. This was important - this meant something.

What it meant took In a couple of moments to figure out. Peering into the bag, In didn't immediately realize what she was looking at. In her defense, a hand-held metal cylinder in a personal bag could be any number of things - vibro-spanner, tiny plasma cutter, emergency comms unit, archaic rebreather. A scomp, maybe. But she'd done a bit of research when she'd learned that the mystic hokum was actually real and could kill her. In was no fool, and could be proactive. Especially with the Statue-That-Makes-Metal-Horrors was currently in the other room secured by what appeared to be a jewelry box and a perfectly normal quilt.

The look In gave her defacto First Mate was dripping with smug satisfaction, a smile that suggested the Pantoran held all the cards and was waiting for Niysha to realize it. "Frizz. C'mon." She chuckled. "I appreciate you opening up to me, but... intrepid traveller, a serene warrior who sees invisible things, saves children, secures evil artifacts, tips fourty percent? I did my homework."

She put a soft hand on Niysha's shoulder. "Thank you for opening up to me. I really do appreciate it. I figured out you're a Jedi days ago." In promised gently.

 

[Niysha]

Well, at least In wasn't completely oblivious. That was progress. And she was from a clearly fringer society that didn't interact with a lot of Force-users, which meant that she probably thought anyone with a lightsaber was a Jedi. She could be forgiven, but this was a bit more serious than that. Having produced her lightsaber, Niysha gently moved her bag aside and stood up.

She did not say a thing. She would've raised an eyebrow if had any experience doing that, but her normal visual signals would have to do. Namely, that she didn't have any. Niysha stepped a meter away from the table and very carefully made sure the lightsaber was pointed up, very much away from anything it could damage. Then she flicked it on.

With that familiar, iconic snap-hiss sound, the room was filled with a dull red glow from the bright red weapon.

 

[In Rhan]

In watched with keen interest as Niysha lifted her lightsaber with a bit of ceremony, curious to see an actual one in use. She didn't know much about the mechanisms of a lightsaber - it seemed that few outside of their users did, which might be why the design hadn't changed meaningfully in millennia. But In DID know her gadgets, and she generally LIKED gadgets. Who didn't like a new gadget? She cradled her chin, set her brow, and focused on looking very thoughtful and cute while also studying the lightsaber.

The red glow was sufficient to change the lighting in the room considerably. In didn't move, her expression didn't change, and for several seconds she simply processed this new chunk of information and what a clown she'd just made herself look like. A red lightsaber was something entirely different. The Jedi pretended to be cops and the like, or so she'd heard. The ones who weren't Jedi used red. They were the ones who took slaves, murdered entire ships, purged the undesirables from their domains...

In was briefly shocked, but she had to reconcile this knowledge with a couple of important framings. She knew only one or two factoids about Jedi and Sith, and she'd only met one that she knew of. The one she'd met was fun, smart, calm, and insightful. She'd put her life on the line to save a station from an evil ghost thing, and was only getting rid of that after she was sure it was neutralized. In had no reason to doubt her motivations. Besides - anyone who spent that much time helping clean her ship likely didn't have it in them to oppress. The genuine delight Niysha had shown when In had put different electrical labels on her hydroponics trays so that Niysha could more easily tell them apart and help out with the gardening? That person couldn't be a slaver. That person probably couldn't be a murderer.

So, In had bad information on Sith, or Niysha had put that life behind her - though that suggested she'd been a part of it, and even that beggared belief.

Serious face. In sat up straight on the table, very calm, and folded her hands on her lap. "I'm curious to hear the story." In confessed. "But if you aren't ready to tell it, I can wait. But I trust you, Niysha. I don't think you'd ever hurt me. I don't think you'd hurt anyone, if you could help it. So I'm willing to wait." She promised.

 

[Niysha]

For Niysha, the sound and motion of deactivating a lightsaber and putting it away was almost more familiar than drawing it. As she returned to the table, she made sure to put her awful red glowstick back in her bag, in its standard hiding place beneath layers of clothes and artifacts. At some level, she might've been trying to give a symbol that she didn't want it to frame their entire relationship going forward, but she firmly realized that drawing a Sith lightsaber was something of a conversation starter.

Properly seated, the Miraluka offered what looked, for the moment, to be a grateful smile. Relief was harder to pick up when you didn't have eyes. There was a whole layer of emotional conveyance that didn't really come through with half your face missing. Her voice, then, carried the rest. "Thank you," she offered earnestly. "I am not a danger to you." That was probably the single most important thing she could establish as quickly and specifically as possible.

There were other things to cover at the moment, though. Niysha's throat was housing the most uncomfortable lump she'd felt in a while, and that needed to be addressed as quickly as possible. She and In had been through multiple life-threatening situations, and now In was off finding her dark side artifacts to play with without even knowing what she was doing. That was the sort of one-sided situation she desperately wanted to avoid.

Niysha stayed quiet for a second or two as she processed what she wanted to say carefully. "I'm not trying to mislead you. Not to sound like a classic movie saber jockey, but I haven't technically lied to you. It just didn't come up," she began, then shook her head. "But that's obviously an excuse when we're talking about something this important. People tend to react very radically when they see red."

There were lots of reasons for that and most of them were justified. Sith were dangerous. They were so dangerous that rather than deal with them for the last five years, Niysha had decided that leaving, disappearing, and never talking to anyone ever again was the preferable alternative. But to someone this far out, being a Force-user with a red lightsaber meant that she was one of them, and that she was probably going to be dangerous, unhinged, unpredictable, and violent.

Since she was only really one of those things, it made things easier to just not have a lightsaber at all.

This whole thing was because In expressed interest. Deep breath. Niysha returned her attention to the actual, important matter at hand. "I realize this probably recontextualizes our relationship pretty sharply. I wanted to put all of our cards on the table before either of us tried to firgure out what our hand looks like." Most people did not want to date a horrormongering cannibal psychopath.

 

[In Rhan]

In reached out to grasp Niysha's hand. Physical contact felt important now. It was honest and direct in a way that her clumsy words struggled with sometimes. "It doesn't recontextualize much for me, Frizz." In promised quietly. "Everybody out here in the rim has had to do what they need to to survive. Whatever you had to do to get by, I don't believe you're the sort of person who'd ever want to or go out of your way to hurt people. Unless there was a metaphorical blaster to yours or their head. The only time you've been a danger to me is when I was following you into the fleshmetal heart, and even then you made it real clear that it was dangerous and I could walk away like a dozen times.."

In squeezed the hand that'd just been holding a murderous lightsaber.

"Thanks for telling me, though. I really do appreciate you coming clean before we get entangled." The Pantoran woman added sheepishly. "If you're good, we're good. And unless you have more big dark secrets lurking in the rafters you're waiting to let loose - I don't need the details unless you wanna give them. And I'm still interested."

 

[Niysha]

Niysha didn't make physical contact with other people very often, but it wasn't a shock most of the time. More incidental, bumping into someone or grabbing a shoulder to stop someone from doing something stupid. Intentional contact like a handshake was less common. She hadn't had tender contact in a very long time, but she could at least see it coming. Well-broadcast. She only jumped a little bit.

More dark secrets? Darker than being a Sith? "I... no, In, I don't think I can top that," she hesitated with a slightly flabbergasted tone. Her expression fumbled for a moment before landing on awkwardly open. "...I prefer caff to tea? I think that's about the darkest secret I've got left."

Obviously that wasn't true, because- Wait, no. She just had this mental kerfuffle. Niysha consciously spoke up. "Obviously I have a whole dark history thing going on, but none of it is relevant or dangerous, and none of it will come bite me in the rear any time soon. Basically everyone and everything tied to my past is long dead." She stopped a moment and felt the need to add "Through no fault of my own. I'm not a jinx, as far as I know. But 'Sith' is a pretty dangerous job with a really high turnover rate. If that makes sense."

Okay. That was all. "Thanks for hearing me out. I would've felt awful keeping that stuff inside after you expressed an interest."

 

[In Rhan]

"I do sincerely appreciate it." In reiterated, releasing Niysha's hand. "Your crummy taste in hot drinks aside..."

A bit of humor. Just a bit to reassure.

"It's a good thing your job isn't Sith anymore. You're my second-in-command now - we'll have to break the news to Doctor Cromslor later." In chuckled quietly. "...I know I don't understand this stuff. I'm from the fringes. There's probably implications and things I'm missing here, but I THINK I understand the general shape of things. And I'm fine with it. I'd bet a dozen roses that you didn't have a choice in becoming a Sith. No offense, Niysha, but you don't strike me as the aspiring warlord-slash=murderess type."

The Pantoran woman pushed herself off of the table, letting her hand brush across Niysha's shoulder as she moved past her. "I'd even double down that bet and assert that you didn't 'quit' being a Sith so much as escape having to be one. That is way more in line with the woman I know. Which means in my book, you're pretty similar to somebody who was conscripted into the military and bailed when she had a chance."

In drifted over towards the cockpit, pausing in the doorway from the galley. Just a little theatrical as always, posing with one leg behind her, hands on either sort of the frame, gazing over her shoulder with a backdrop of the stars from the large cockpit windows. Or, rather, a backdrop of the station interior. "I'm gonna get us underway. Lemme know if that puzzle can has anything worthwhile in it, so I can bring you more of that. Yeah?"

 

[Niysha]

Look at all of that explaining Niysha didn't have to do. If she'd known talking to people about being an evil space wizard would be this painless, she might've approached several parts of her life notably differently. "Thanks," came her brief reply. "I'll get on it."

In was off doing captain things. That meant that, for a moment, Niysha had the run of the place. First things first, though, she needed to get her things back to her room... including that map. She did not want to mess with anything too captial-D dark out in the midst of all of In's plants. Living things sometimes reacted poorly to dark energy. At the very least, it might make the fruit taste wrong. Best to put some distance before she started futzing around with anything made of human skin.

When she was safely in her room, Niysha decided to leave the door open. Now that she had nothing to hide, it meant she didn't need to lock herself in when meditating... or, apparently, playing with ancient toys of malicious energy. She hadn't had a puzzle tube in a while, but considering this one was filled with a kyber crystal and an old Sith map, chances were it was designed to be impenetrable for anyone who couldn't search for answers in the Force.

A minute or two of tinkering proved, at least, that it wasn't going to be easy to solve with mundane means, at the very least. Physically, while the tumblers looked and felt like they were catching on the triggers inside the tube, Niysha noticed that the actual locks weren't moving. Satisfied with her first attempt, she took a seat on the floor, placed the cryptex in front of her, and allowed herself to focus.

While Sith didn't concentrate well, Miraluka were a bit more accustomed to swimming in the Force naturally, without forcing it. One of Niysha's earliest tricks was subsuming herself into the infinite space of raw power, emotion, and truth that was the swirling, tempestuous winds of the Force. It didn't take her long for her perception of reality to sublimate into something primal.

Within a few minutes, her room was an absolute mess of small, orbiting objects.

 

[In Rhan]

In was in her element, when she was in a pilot's seat. She wasn't some hotshot fighting ace, she didn't have whip-twitch reflexes or supernal eyes to pick a torpedo out of the backdrop of space. She didn't instinctively understand hyperspace or anything like that. But feeling her ship lift out of the starport with a full berth and recently repaired engines? She got that. The groan of the powerful frame adjusting to enough weight to leave a sizable crater should she drop it, the way the ship listed slightly due to inertia when she banked away from the planet below the station they'd been in and began lining up her hyperspace vector, she got that to. Every dial and knob and toggle within reach had a function, and she knew all of them the way she knew her own nose and hair. There was a good chance, In had reflected, that she might not be able to fly anything other than a Besaid class. She'd learned and developed on this specific ship, she'd spent over half of her life in it at this point.

The Dancer yawed lazily to one side, lining up with a distant star. The gravity well beneath would help slingshot. The hyperspace calculations were simple and mostly freestyle - they were taking known, legitimate routes on conventional hyperlanes. Everyday stuff. The skipdrive hummed merrily, then slipped them into a realspace envelope. The Dancer dropped into Hyperspace as smoothly as always. In put her feet up and sighed, settling in for a long drive.

Seconds later, there was a hard JOLT as the ship was dropped out of hyperspace entirely. It felt like a giant had grasped the ship and tossed it thoughtlessly aside, which was only heightened by the fact that In'd been thrown from her chair and slammed into the console. The cockpit was blindingly bright, suddenly filled with alarms screaming and sensors going berserk. The cockpit window itself was dominated by wall of blue flame that ached to look at, even with all of the shielding and filtering between In and the blue star her ship was about to to be pulled into. Something had gone terribly wrong with the jump.

In crawled back into the pilot's seat, pulling the yoke back to try and about-face away from the star. Space around them was filled with danger - wrecked ships, munitions, and abandoned fighters formed a tight cloud of garbage around the star. In an agile ship, it would have been hard to avoid hitting something dangerous. In the Dancer? Weighed down by cargo? Impossible. The ancient battlefield was too dense, and they were directly in the middle of it. Her heart sank as In took in the full scope of the incomprehensible situation.

What just happened?!

 

[Niysha]

Endless and infinite, swirling waves and whisping smoke, blinding light and frigid darkness. Existing in all things, nothing on its own. Rage and pain and joy and relief and the quiet moments in-between. For a moment - many moments, now and in the past and again in the future - there was no Niysha. There was a room, a figure in it, and a ship surrounding it, but there was no self. Washed away in the perfect, purest chaos of the infinite, blinding and soothing in equal measure, she eagerly looked for her answer.

Did she need to dive so deep to open a box? No. There was no she, but what was there was nothing but need, elemental and searing. Her curiosity bore her aloft, her desire deeper and more passionate than the most redolent flower in the galaxy. And in that infinite, in the unending and turbulent mess of the Force, she found-

Her head on the floor.

The lurch had sent Niysha tumbling to the deck of her private room, and the orbital of small objects that had been floating around her followed suit in half a second. Blinding white pain shot through her head as it collided with metal, but she was only dizzy for a moment before she managed to grit her teeth and burn that pain straight into rage, into resilience, and eventually into insight. Let it never be said that she wasn't getting more experienced with the dark side.

Niysha clambered to her feet and made her swift and shockingly coordinated way to the bridge without a word. When she arrived, her mouth asked "What's going on?" before the rest of her had even caught up. She didn't need an answer. There was too much power outside. A star had a truly massive spirit that was impossible to miss, and being this close to one wasn't anyone's plan.

Her fear spiked higher than it had been in months. Mecha zombies and Jedi masters had nothing on hurtling towards a star. Once again, her mouth got away with her. "Is that a star?!" Not the calm, collected voice In had likely become very used to. She didn't crowd the pilot's seat. She didn't need to look out the window to tell what was happening.

 

[In Rhan]

Niysha materialized just in time. In was pretty sure the Miralukan was bleeding from the head somewhere. In was pretty sure she was likely banged up from the impact of whatever had happened. "I don't know! We got thrown out of hyperspace - none of this makes sense!" The Pantoran woman yelled over the squealing, shrieking din of alarms. The ship lights flickered, then went backup red. What was using all of the power?!

A glance at the instruments. Oh,

She couldn't take her hands off of the yolk or her eyes off of the space around them for a moment. The area was too fraught with potentially-explosive ruin. The gravity fluctuations and heat baking off of the star was pushing the Dancer's ability to disperse heat into the three-layer hull to the very limit. All of the debris was straining the shields. The heatsinks were about to melt into slag. If they did, there was a good chance that the Dancer would never make hyperspace again - they'd be trading a quick death by star for a long one by dehydration. Something had to give. She had to vent heat. She had to get away from the star quickly. She had to navigate the debris slowly. She needed the shields to deflect the debris, but the shields made the ship hotter.

It was impossible to think with all of the din. The Dancer was screaming in agony.

"Niysha, listen to me." In ordered over the noise, flipping toggles and switches rapidly. She was amazed how calm she sounded to herself, considering her heart was about to explode out of her chest. "I need you cool the electronics bay. Route gaseous coolant from the chilly garden in there, then spray down the heatsinks with the fire extinguishers. Quickly. The coolant tank is across from fuel."

The ship rattled and lurched as In powered the shields down. Her grip on the yolk was white knuckled, the Pantoran was locked into her navigation. The ship immediately began to reverberate with metallic noise through a combination of the exterior trying to heat and cool in different places while ancient debris struck the hull.

 

[Niysha]

In's aura was swirling, a fiery, blindingly hot tempest of barely contained panic. Streaks of panicked need, frozen lines of grim fear. This was obviously serious - Niysha didn't need any proof - but it was at least reassuring to know that someone else was as scared as she was for once. Fortunately, that didn't seem to stop In from having exact ideas what to do to solve the problem. Niysha didn't even respond, she just nodded and took off at a dead sprint across the ship.

Of all of her skills, "running" and "improvising" were probably the two best.

Powered by the sharpest, keenest, purest fear she'd ever felt, Niysha didn't taken more than a couple of seconds to reach the electronics- oven?! If she went in there she'd be fighting heatstroke within moments. What was all of that stuff that In had set her on? Reroute the cold garden, spray everything down with fire extinguishers. Coolant tank was... where?! And where were the fire extinguishers?!

Don't panic.

There was no peace here, only a desperate, maddened need to stay alive. Niysha's gaze spread out to the area around her, and she lost herself in the moment. Let go. Act on instinct. Her body was already in motion. The coolant was around here. How did she interact with it? Her fingers were already moving by the time she realized she was half-suffocating from the inferno that had become of the actively glowing, flash-oven heatsinks. If they made it through this, they could fry some bacon in this room later.

She'd already pressed a few buttons and felt like she needed to pull a lever. There were none, so she flipped a switch instead. There was an immediate, explosive hiss as the pressure in the coolant tank released far, far too quickly. The result was an immediate, arctic blast. She could hear some of the rubbery compounds in the engineering bay blister and crack at the sudden drop in temperature. And her skin.

Fortunately, she didn't have time to wait. She was already outside, apparently, and spotted a couple of fire extinguishers, one in each of two different cabinets. Niysha ran to one and ripped it out of its cubby, then flung her hand out and desperately called the other from across the room. It flew like it was shot out of a cannon. The Miraluka had almost taken her head off twice in as many minutes.

No time, no time. She needed to be in the engineering bay again. Heat sinks. Fire extinguisher. Full blast.

Do. Not. Panic.