Private Queens for a Day

[Loske Treicolt]

Ojoster Sector // Wayland // S.S. Bruno
Auteme
​

Loske reached over to turn the music down so her friend could focus.

"Okay, Frank has entered in the end coordinates...sooo.." She leaned forward, pointing to the final destination that was showing up in the navdisplay. He'd had the coordinates to the mysterious planet, drenched in history, from their last random adventure to a tomb on it's surface. It had ended unceremoniously, but at least kept them aware of the planet on the map. Useful for the mission they were embarking on: Acting as diplomats to try and quell the rising conflict between three sentient, primitive, species.

"In a few minutes, we're going to come out of hyperspace into real space.." The blonde recoiled, draping her arms over the head of the pilot's seat, and resting her cheek against her palm as she gave instruction.

Even if her friend hadn't outwardly admitted it, it was pretty clear this was the first time the other Padwan was flying anything. Thankfully, S.S. Bruno was pretty maneuverable. It wasn't as fickle as a starfighter, nor as obtuse as a frigate. It was just right.

For the most part, navigating through hyperspace wasn't too difficult -- all Auteme had to do up to this point was keep in a straight line and not fall out of the route they'd been plotted on. It was the transition that could be tricky for new flyers. Not that Loske had taught much, she'd given some pointers to Ryv, but that was the extent of her pedagogies. She just assumed it would be the tricky part, given the immediacy of the transitions.

"You're going to want to naturally hit the brakes. Don't do that, you'll damage the repulsors. Bruno'll compensate for the transition mostly, you have to focus on....yeah, just not hitting the brakes. And debris. Don't hit any obstacles. Sometimes you'll snap just above an atmosphere and everything is a mess."

She gestured wildly in a vague shape to demonstrate mess, before she scooted over to plunk into the co-pilot's seat, usually unoccupied, and did up her crash webbing. Frank rolled between them, keeping whatever nervous thoughts he had to himself.

Arriving above Wayland in three minutes. The astromech announced, which was redundant to the range-to-target indicator on the console that scrolled meters off by the hundreds as they approached their destination.

 

[Auteme]

W A Y L A N D
Tag: Loske Treicolt

Spoiler: Auteme

​

---

Sometimes -- very rarely -- Auteme felt that her knowledge was a curse of sorts.

Oddly enough in the situation in which she was being taught she felt that she knew too much about one thing and not enough about another. She tried to learn things to make sure she'd have nothing to fear, but hyperspace madness was no joke. It was freaky. Every report she'd read about it, every academic paper and news story was always a horror story. She absolutely, positively, 100% did not want to contract it, so she was taking as many precautions as possible. She wore shades in the cockpit of the ship, kept most of the blinders on, and kept her eyes away from the spinning blue lights of hyperspace. It was a wonder how anyone traveled this way. They needed to automate all of their ships already.

Of course, there were a great many other things to be afraid of in this situation. The dangers of hyperspace were varied and numerous, and the chances that she'd embarrass herself -- again -- in front of Loske while flying this ship were equally so. What if the gravitic anomaly sensor wasn't working? What if they got sucked into a black hole, or some other cosmic event tore them into the void? What if she threw up in Loske's ship?!

Knuckles white on the controls, Auteme forced herself to take a few deep breaths. She could spend all the time she wanted in her books, but practical experience was a much quicker way to learn. It seemed that no matter how many times she reminded herself of that little piece of wisdom, it never truly sunk in. She needed to force herself to start changing. This trip would be a good chance, and not just because Loske was teaching her to fly.

"Naturally. Right." She closed her eyes. The Jedi were good pilots because they could use their enhanced senses to feel beyond what they could see and hear -- moreover, masters could navigate hyperspace themselves and pull off hair-trigger hyperspace exits. Maybe she could...

No no no this is bad this is bad this is- SLAM.

Auteme waited a little too long to pull out of hyperspace. The S.S. Bruno re-entered realspace reasonably smoothly, only jerking slightly at the end as Auteme slammed hard on the brakes. Her eyes shot open for a moment in shock; they were awfully close to the jungle planet of Wayland. That was another big batch of fears, what with the dangerous fauna, three separate languages, and all the responsibility she'd been given...

But first: embarrassment.

"Sorry!" She squeaked. "Sorry, sorry. I'm really sorry," she rambled to Loske. "I tried to- and I just- I'm sorry." She was starting to sound like Ryv.

"Can you fly us down?" She pleaded the more experienced pilot, finally taking off her shades.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

HURK! ​

The crash webbing clenched around her torso, and Loske let out an involuntary gasp. It took her a second to realize what had happened. It wasn't everything she had advised Auteme against, but some of the things.

Before responding, she looked over the dashboard. The HUD was aglow with some warnings, the repulsors were overloaded with the strain but they were working on rebalancing themselves. Frank plugged into the main drive and worked to reroute some of the energy from the repulsors to the main thrusters to ease the transition.

"No, no, it's okay. You got us this far, c'mon, you can do this. You can keep us going." A finger tapped against the screen, struggling to lean forward against the seatbelt. "You can do it, don't worry.

Worst case, you crash. It'll be fine." If they crashed, she wouldn't be able to ask about the sunglasses. The blonde offered a smile in Auteme's direction, shrugging beneath the straps. "Most people survive crashes. So, that's cool. C'mon, ease through the atmosphere to the coordinates. They should be placing us near a clearing.

You can use the brakes now, just...a little more tapping than stomping here on out.

When you're about twenty meters above the ground, you can start to enter the landing sequence. Frank will help you out -- all you have to do is hit the LANDING GEAR button."

 

[Auteme]

W A Y L A N D
Tag: Loske Treicolt ​

---

"I don't know..." She didn't know if she wanted to fly, really. It was an important skill, and all the other padawans she knew could do it, but she'd never really been sure about being in a large metal coffin moving at speeds not meant for humans. How did the others do it? Was this something that she couldn't learn? She wasn't like the others. Maybe she should have just read about how to fly instead of actually trying it.

But she failed to express her doubts to Loske, and instead the other padawan gave Auteme instructions on how to continue. Flying in atmosphere was much different than in void conditions, and the likelihood of crashing was much higher. Loske's comment about the worst-case scenario did not inspire confidence -- Auteme had been in ship crashes twice in her life already. Then again, she had survived two ship crashes. She didn't want to push her luck, though. "I don't want to crash," she muttered, her hands clenching tightly around the steering controls.

The astromech would take care of it, though, and that made Auteme relax a little. She just needed to get close to the surface and hit the button. The S.S. Bruno began a slow, controlled descent towards the green surface of Wayland, gliding towards the capital of New Nystao. She seemed more in control now, gently pushing the breaks to keep a constant speed as they went. Loske was right, it wasn't so bad... and now that she was a little more in control, she could see the surface of Wayland... some people flew to see the stars, but Auteme would rather fly to look at the wonders of the world below. The planet was beautiful, and as they got closer she could see flocks of clawbirds and packs of garral roaming about. This place was incredible. "Could you grab my camera? The old, boxy little thing in my bag. Just hit the power button, then the button on the top to take a picture." They weren't very common, but maybe Loske knew how to use one.

Air traffic control was expecting them and sent them towards a landing pad in the spaceport, and once they were close enough, Auteme pressed the landing gear button. From there, she let go of the controls and allowed the astromech to take over. "That was... less bad..." She hoped nothing had been damaged, particularly because she had no idea how to fix something like this.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"I don't either." Loske agreed, sharing the sentiment about crashing and the desire to avoid it.

Through the transition, she remained tightly in her seat. Until Auteme was struck with the wonder of their arrival over the emerald canopy and asked her to get a camera out of her bag. "Oh, yeah..okay." She'd never really thought about capturing the moment -- though each time she arrived over a new planet it was something breathtaking. Maybe she was losing her appreciation; something to be aware of. Straining through the crash webbing, she reached for Auteme's bag and recoiled it to her lap, reaching inside and feeling for the rectangle.

She hadn't seen one of these before. Usually Frank was recording where she went and creating renderings of it on the fly. The dense piece of technology rotated a few times in her hand before she realized she was wasting time and the picture worth capturing was getting closer. Following the direction from the brunette, she lifted it to her eye out the viewport and clicked the button.

"Hopefully that's okay." She looked down at it, a picture composed of pixels manifesting pretty-near instantly. "Probably not going to make any calendars." She admitted with a shrug, and tried again with a slightly different angle that strained her abdomen.

The landing was relatively smooth. Auteme's timing was pretty well measured and Frank handled the rest. S.S. Bruno settled down with a sound of air depressing, and the engines cut.

"Nice work." Loske complimented, and handed over the camera. "How was your first flight experience? You wanna drive home, too?" While she spoke, she unclipped herself from the restraints and stood up with a stretch and pressed the loading ramp to extend. The mouth of the ship blurted out a metallic tongue, forming as the canopy over the girls and receded into the body of the ship.

An attendant came to meet them, and Loske handled the exchange. There was a small fee for holding the pad and providing security, which she deposited, and asked for directions. An escort wouldn't be appropriate if they were to remain truly neutral.

 

[Auteme]

W A Y L A N D
Tag: Loske Treicolt ​

---

Auteme smiled. "I've been sending letters to my parents lately. Like, paper ones, delivered and stuff. I thought it might be good to send them a picture, so they get a better idea... I mean, I'm not all that good at painting word pictures, and it really is quite beautiful..." Her eyes wandered over the lush forest as the ship began to slow. This place was idyllic; it was no wonder that the Emperor would have wanted it hidden... well, aside from the fact that there was the secret mountaintop storehouse.

She shook her head vigorously in response to Loske's question. "No way. I think I've had enough flying for a lifetime," she said, finally able to un-clip her crash webbing. It felt like she could breathe again. She'd had too many bad experiences with ships -- being in control of one didn't seem like a bad idea, until she'd actually tried it. It was a lot more pressure with someone else in the ship. Then again, she'd probably have crashed instantly without Loske's help.

With the landing ramp down, Auteme grabbed her day pack and disembarked alongside the other padawan. Loske was pretty articulate and clearly knew her way around spaceport protocol -- something Auteme couldn't exactly study -- so she let Loske handle it. Auteme felt that her Honoghran was pretty bad and she was afraid she'd insult the Noghri who'd come to greet them.

They began to walk towards New Nystao's Grand Dukha. First they needed to greet the local leaders, then they'd head to the edge of the city where new residences were being made for the refugees. It was relatively urgent business, but Auteme took her time as they walked through the city; this was the closest she'd get to the original architecture on Honoghr and she didn't really want to waste it.

"Do you speak Honoghran?" She asked Loske. "I... probably should've asked that earlier," she admitted. "Mynershi and Psadan might also be useful. They did mention that there'd been some friction with the locals."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"That's so sweet." Loske grinned to the sentiment of trading memories back and forth with folks. Ongoing dialogue with someone's parents was important, and she felt a tinge of envy.

"You say that now, but you'll end up behind the sticks again. Can't stay on Peace forever."

The docking of the ship was pretty standard, save for the difficulty in the first few sentences given the language barrier. Frank and her had practiced the basic salutations and 'how much does it cost' -- but he had to step in pretty quickly after she fumbled to find the right words in an appropriate amount of time. His rolling in sped up the process and gave the Jedi more time to get their feet on the ground and wander through the cylindrical architecture.

Loske was about to levy the bad news of not knowing any of those dialects Auteme mentioned, when Frank whirred in. I do. I can translate. Or..do you, Miss Auteme?

It seems you know your way around, or which way to go.

It wasn't tricky, if you put your mind to it and remembered the mission briefing. As they approached the largest rounded building, the Grand Dukha, there was a smaller grey-skinned local draped in robes standing just outside the entrance.

<Ah, you must be the Jedi mediators The Order issued.> It greeted. <My name is Vor'kaim. I'm to be your escort, please do come inside.>

There was an awkward, desperate pause and Loske looked panicked toward her astromech who quickly spouted off a Thank you in return. The primative sentient looked at the droid with a frown.

<He can't come in.> It said plainly.

I have to. Frank protested, and shared a translation to Auteme and Loske for what was happening.

 

[Auteme]

W A Y L A N D
Tag: Loske Treicolt ​

---

"You say that now, but you'll end up behind the sticks again. Can't stay on Peace forever."

"I know." She wished it wasn't true. Auteme was sure that Loske had meant it as an off-hand comment, but having the idea spelled out like that really hurt her. Peace had become her home -- in fact, it was the longest she'd ever spent in one place. All the years moving around the galaxy had left Auteme yearning for something permanent. Would she need to leave soon? She just wanted something to hold onto... in a way she envied Loske's freedom and decisiveness, but she knew it wasn't for her.

Auteme pushed away those thoughts and focused on walking. The language of the Noghri was an important topic as well. They probably should've talked about it on the way here, but Auteme had been so focused on flying the ship it had slipped her mind. "I understand Honoghran," she replied to Frank. It hadn't been difficult to learn, the language was relatively simple and held many similarities to other trade languages, particularly the pronunciation and vocal rhythm of Sy Bisti. Still, she'd never met a native speaker on Honoghran before, so she was worried that she might miss something. "But... my speaking isn't fantastic, and there's the possibility that the dialect here on Wayland has evolved... I mean, it's been eight hundred years since they split..." That was a whole new set of worries for her. "If I'm having trouble, I can always write it out. Psadan and Myneyrsh I can understand, but... I know the Myneyrsh can speak basic, as can the Noghri, but I don't have the vocal range to speak Psadan. They don't have any written language last I checked, so that'll be more difficult." Both of the native races gave their histories entirely orally -- she'd had to learn their languages to understand their culture and history.

As it turned out, her worries were completely warranted. Vor'kaim's accent was slightly different from the Holorecords she'd listened to, and she knew that most Noghri introduced themselves with their clan name as well. Was it a mistake, or had the people here cast off their clan traditions? Eight hundred years was a long time. She was excited to learn about the cultural drift, and terrified at the idea that the clan-bound Noghri of Honoghr might clash with the drifted traditions of those of Wayland.

"It's okay," she said in response to Vor'kaim's... stopping, of Frank. She turned to the Noghri and gave a slight bow and introduced herself. <"I am Auteme, and this is Loske. Thank you for escorting us."> She couldn't tell if her Honoghran was fantastic or terrible; Vor'kaim just grunted in response and kept his eyes on the droid. Auteme cleared her throat, then continued in Basic. "We will leave Frank here, but if it's not too much trouble, could you please speak Basic with us? My friend doesn't speak Honoghran."

Vor'kaim was stoic, before he cleared his throat as well and spoke in basic to the two. "Very well," he said, his voice like a cat's mewl. "Come." The Noghri turned towards the Grand Dukha and went in through the entrance.

Auteme glanced at Frank. "Sorry... let's go, Loske." The padawan followed their escort and entered the building.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

All of the words Auteme was saying sounded complicated - and all she was explaining were the names of the locations. She couldn't wait to hear the dialect in action. "Wow." Was all she could murmur in appreciation of the scholar before they were interrupted.

When the Noghri stopped Frank, she reached out to place a calming palm on the top if his metal dome, patting once-twice. She couldn't tell what Auteme was saying to the self-titled guide, but she followed the prompt to hinge at her hips in a respectful bow.

All of a sudden they were speaking basic again! She signalled for Frank to stay, and crossed over to Auteme, touching her wrist to get her attention and dropping her voice in a low, rushed "Thank you" as they paced up the black and red marble steps to the entryway.

Somehow it wasn't as humid as it was in the jungle world outside, and she quickly glanced about to assess the ventilation systems. There were also a slim number of exits as far as she could see. Inside, tall, onyx pillars stretched from the ground to the top of the roof. It was as angular as it was practical, nothing ornate about it. Loske was surprised by how sparse it was. It meant all the attention was to the cluster of sentients gathered in the common room.

There were three distinct groupings, and nobody sat in the high seat. All three were talking boisterously to one another, pointing claws and fingers around at different individuals. Neither of the girls needed to be an empath to realize the tension on the room was treading toward each clan desiring genocide of the other. Even though the language was harsh on her ears, Loske supposed part of it was because of the root messaging being shared back and forth.

Vor'Kaim cleared his throat, and lifted his hands to try and quell the crowds. There was little reaction.

<Clansmen. Leaders. Please.

The Jedi Peacekeepers are here.

Please..if you can manage, speak basic. They're uneducated in our customs.>

<Poor choice for mediators!> Someone bellowed, in a language that rolled more than it punctuated.

For all she was, she'd never heard herself described as a peacekeeper. From the moment she was belched out of the lab and into the real world, she was behind the sticks and in combat. This was...strange. From her position, concentrated on the malicious intentions of the crowd and exhaled softly to try and impress the minds nearest to her with something more respectful to the guide. A few eyes tore from their dagger-glaring conversations, and focused on the robed Honoghri with the two girls.

"Master Jedis, we must respectfully differ - our disputes cannot abate until ---" someone made a noise that Loske couldn't tell was part of the language or not, but it send them into a spiral of continued disagreement, paying little attention to the trio in the middle of the floor who were here to try and help.

Loske dropped her voice: "Hey, Auteme - rather than standing on a pedestal here, do you think it would be better for our approach to try and get each representative to us to talk to one another individually? Get an understanding of their perspective without interruption?"

 

[Auteme]

W A Y L A N D
Tag: Loske Treicolt ​

---

Oh, this wasn't good...

The Noghri were already divided and clearly didn't think much of Loske and Auteme. The call-out from someone in the crowd shot her confidence like it was a dog that went to a farm upstate. They shouldn't have sent two padawans, her Honoghran was terrible, and everything was already going wrong...

Loske's plan of action took her a moment to consider as she tried to calm her breathing. They'd had a platform to speak on, but she'd waited too long and now it was gone. Auteme kicked herself for being too slow. Still, all the evil eyes they were getting made her want to just go home. Books were a lot easier to understand than the intricacies of sentient species and cultures and interactions...

But she'd tried to understand them nonetheless. The padawan took a deep breath in, then turned to the blonde and nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

Auteme stepped down off of the slightly raised entrance area, tentatively entering the pit of clashing words and pointed fingers. The tone in which the various elders and maitrakhs spoke was harsh, but they all spoke with the same slight accent that Vor'kaim had; she was quick to realize that none of the Noghri here were from Honoghr. From what she could tell, all of the groups had numerous ideas on what to do with all the refugees, and Auteme stumbled on the realization that they hadn't been asked about this whole idea. The way they were talking about it, she could tell that there had been little to no warning or consultation about the sudden refugee crisis. It made their stresses completely understandable -- suddenly millions of refugees arrived at your city, requesting asylum, and the Jedi just left them there? Moreover they sent children to oversee further work?

It made the padawan feel very small and very in the wrong. She pulled Loske aside after wandering through the crowd a bit and getting a feel for the Noghri of Wayland. "They're stressed out. From what I can tell, there wasn't much communication between the Noghri here about the refugees... and we haven't really done anything to help. There are a few different groups and a lot of ideas on what to do, and this discussion format is not very friendly." Auteme hadn't learned any Honoghran profanity, so she was certainly missing a few words here.

"I just... I don't know how to help." And that was the worse feeling.