Public Planeshift | Lost in the Null Zone

[Boggo Flib]

They call it the Null Zone, a place so empty, so far from everything, it makes deep space feel crowded. No stars. No planets. Not even a rock drifting through the dark. Just black. Pure, endless black. It's a part of the galaxy so far off course, most nav charts don't even bother labeling it.

And somehow… you're here.

Your ship's hyperdrive malfunctioned during a jump. Something in the galaxy just shifted in some strange, cosmic way, one moment you were flying past a familiar moon, and the next, nothing. Not a single point of reference. Just void.

You're drifting now. Communications are down, fried, or distorted beyond use. The systems on your ship can't even find a signal to lock onto. Rations are getting low. Power is limited. You're not sure if help is coming or if anyone even knows where to look. Whether you are alone or accompanied by a crew...

What will you do?

 

[Valery Noble]

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Outfit: Wedding Ring
Ship: The Bastion
Weapons: Blasters

"Chit, Kahlil Noble is going to kill me."

The words slipped from Valery's mouth as she leaned back in the pilot's chair, boots kicked up on the console, a half-dead control panel flickering sporadically in front of her. Sparks danced somewhere behind the nav station, the smell of burnt wiring lingering like an annoying reminder of her bad luck — or worse, his ship's temperamental hyperdrive. Yeo, totally.

The Bastion — Kahlil's beloved freighter, the one he polished with his own hands more than he ever polished his boots — was dead in the water. Drifting and alone in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

The Null Zone.

No stars. No nav beacons. No hyperlanes. Just... black. Wearing her smuggler getup, Valery looked the part. She had been undercover. And what better cover than playing the rogue wife on her husband's suspiciously nice ship? Only now... No cover. No contact. No comms. Just the hum of low auxiliary power and her own increasingly annoyed breathing.

Valery sighed and dragged a hand through her long brown hair, already pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her reflection in the viewport was half-lit, flickering in and out like the rest of the systems. She stared at it a moment.

"Alright, think. Power's low. No comms. No nav solution."

A pause.

"...and the one time I fly his kriffing ship."

She slid her feet off the console, stood up, and paced across the cockpit. The Bastion was built for running fast and light — not drifting in Force-forsaken nothingness. If she was going to get out of here, it would take more than shouting at the console or blaming Kahlil from afar.

Still… he was going to bring this up for years.

Open​