Two-Bit Con Artist
Other than a raging headache, Neri couldn't find anything *wrong* with herself. Some weird bruises that were certainly less than three weeks old, but no less than a week on since whenever they had occurred- yellow and green and fading. There was nothing out of place on her ship, all of her things were there.
So how was she missing three weeks worth of time?
She took a day to scout out Nar Shaddaa, ask around, try to figure out what had happened. It was here that she slowly began to recall the events of the night before the gap. The Sith attack. The smoke in the alley. [member="Darth Ophidia"]. Struggling back up to her knees. Neri's hand ghosted to her ribs, where the grey woman's blade had skipped off of her ribs. Tender to the touch, but healing well enough. She strained to focus past that moment but there was nothing. Just a haze and darkness until she'd woken up, mouth feeling stuffed with cotton and head pounding, three weeks later according to the ship's logs. She'd double checked that with the local calendar, hoping it was a glitch.
It was not.
With a sigh, she plopped down in the pilot's seat. Popping a couple of painkillers she mulled what now. Dead end here, no one knew anything. Her ship had been here the whole time but no one had seen her. The ship's security system marked it as empty until, a few hours before she'd woken up, it simply wasn't anymore. Someone had brought her back but without leaving any trace of themselves on the feed. An uncomfortable prickling sensation skated over the back of her neck, leaving the hair standing on end. It didn't take a genius or a Jedi to fill in the blanks. The Sith.
The question wasn't who though.
The question was why.
Mulling over it all, she itched to get moving. Somewhere- anywhere- but sitting here on the tarmac on the Smuggler's Moon. She needed to make sure she was okay. Sure her own inspection had yielded nothing, but she needed someone with proper bio scanning equipment and probably the Force, just in case.
It really was an easy call.
A short ping- an apology for dropping off the face of the galaxy completely. That everything was okay but could she come to Kashyyyk and get his help on a matter? She needed an outside opinion.
With a confirmation, she maneuvered the small ship up and out of the smoggy atmosphere. She'd have the whole trip to stew over it all. Hopefully by the time she showed up at [member="Delaney Wilder"] 's door she'd have remembered more.
So how was she missing three weeks worth of time?
She took a day to scout out Nar Shaddaa, ask around, try to figure out what had happened. It was here that she slowly began to recall the events of the night before the gap. The Sith attack. The smoke in the alley. [member="Darth Ophidia"]. Struggling back up to her knees. Neri's hand ghosted to her ribs, where the grey woman's blade had skipped off of her ribs. Tender to the touch, but healing well enough. She strained to focus past that moment but there was nothing. Just a haze and darkness until she'd woken up, mouth feeling stuffed with cotton and head pounding, three weeks later according to the ship's logs. She'd double checked that with the local calendar, hoping it was a glitch.
It was not.
With a sigh, she plopped down in the pilot's seat. Popping a couple of painkillers she mulled what now. Dead end here, no one knew anything. Her ship had been here the whole time but no one had seen her. The ship's security system marked it as empty until, a few hours before she'd woken up, it simply wasn't anymore. Someone had brought her back but without leaving any trace of themselves on the feed. An uncomfortable prickling sensation skated over the back of her neck, leaving the hair standing on end. It didn't take a genius or a Jedi to fill in the blanks. The Sith.
The question wasn't who though.
The question was why.
Mulling over it all, she itched to get moving. Somewhere- anywhere- but sitting here on the tarmac on the Smuggler's Moon. She needed to make sure she was okay. Sure her own inspection had yielded nothing, but she needed someone with proper bio scanning equipment and probably the Force, just in case.
It really was an easy call.
A short ping- an apology for dropping off the face of the galaxy completely. That everything was okay but could she come to Kashyyyk and get his help on a matter? She needed an outside opinion.
With a confirmation, she maneuvered the small ship up and out of the smoggy atmosphere. She'd have the whole trip to stew over it all. Hopefully by the time she showed up at [member="Delaney Wilder"] 's door she'd have remembered more.