The Good Witch
Over the span of the last few weeks hyperlanes across the Galaxy have been warping and shifting for unknown reasons. One such shift, that of a lesser traveled route to the Endor System, has left an old Alliance vessel stranded. The Font of Wisdom is a Convor-Class Corvette that served in the Second Great Hyperspace War. After her many years of service she was converted to an evacuation vessel, still serving some purpose so long as her internal components have yet to decay. The Wisdom was, as such, shuttling wounded away from the Sith front back to the core, choosing to take the remote route through the Endor System to avoid being intercepted before making it to safety, potentially risking the lives of the patients onboard. What occurred, however, was wholly unexpected. A mass shadow, completely unseen by the systems aboard the vessel, seemed to appear out of nowhere and damage the corvette. After taking critical broadside damage, the old ship was forced out of hyperspace to take refuge on the Ocean Moon of Endor, Kef Bir. Now the vessel sits stranded on a flat, grassy island, stuck in the rain. Their SOS beacon is active and hailing to the rest of the Alliance, awaiting a hopefully swift recovery.
Amongst them is a padawan fresh off of her first assignment, the young witch Saphira Ohm. As maintenance crews set off into the rain to assess the damage, the young woman found herself aimlessly wondering the cargo-bay of the vessel, overhearing the various concerns of the crew.
"If this is gonna take a while, I hope we have enough provisions..."
"Relax, we're stocked up to last a month out here. I doubt it will take that long."
"In the case it does," Saphira chimed in, "there's no reason to worry. I've heard mention that lanky stallion-like creatures were spotted by some of the maintenance crew. I'm certain that they would have more than enough essential compounds within their entrails to comfortably survive off of."
There was an awkward moment of silence.
"Right... I'll keep that in mind..."
Saphira could really only watch in confusion as the crewmembers of the Font of Wisdom walked off. Had she said something wrong? These were simple facts of survival that most on Dathomir knew well. Getting lost in the wilds without the means to sustain yourself was a death sentence. After all, you had to compete with the beasts as well. What she had said was, as far as she was concerned, completely reasonable.
Maybe they were just tired. That made sense.
With little else to do, the young woman gazed out into the rain, spotting a lone rocky overhang that seemed particularly comfortable. She set off through the grass, not particularly bothered by the precipitation, and sat herself down on a flat stone. With a whisper of words that couldn't quite be understood, green energy swirled up before her. After a moment it dissipated, leaving behind a bright orange fire that seemed to feed off of... nothing. It simply sat there under the overhang, comfortably contained.
Hopefully they wouldn't be waiting long.
OOC: This is a chill thread for castaways to hang out and chat, not really a rescue thread. That means no sudden relief fleet showing up and ruining the fun. Thank you in advance.
