Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Godfather [Jorus]

"Safe travels, Jorus." With a last smile, Sarge began to close the ramp and went up to the cockpit. Familiarizing himself with the cockpit controls, he sets the Moth on a course for Oseon - thank the Stars he'd learned how to plot a hyperspace root from his wookiee all those years back.

Jorus would be there before him, of course, but Sarge showed up not long after. He'd not heard much of the Flamewind, but he was more than a little cautious of it. No sooner had he dropped in-system then he began looking for Jorus.

It would be easier if he knew more about the Moth other than how to make it shoot things.
 
The baby began to cry and stink.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Jorus was-

Well, elsewhere. He'd thought he knew hyperspace, but he'd only ever known it from behind a viewport. Here, riding the back of a hundred-metre Duinuogwuin, he couldn't avoid the raw immediacy of the experience, like a Zeltron with a riding crop.

He relaxed and let the Duinuogwuin touch his mind.

Thank you for this, little Warden.

A fair trade.

Between old sailors, yes. You worry about your child; that is something all Duinuogwuin can appreciate. I have had ten offspring, only two of which were true Duinuogwuin. The rest were monsters, and yet I would love for their company. But feeling what you feel for your child helps soothe that part of my heart. You want to know how I fly, how I know where to go; let me show you.


It wasn't as if knowledge cascaded into his head, but suddenly he began to make connections between things he already knew. Bits of supposition and half-conscious guesswork firmed up and shifted.

They dropped out of hyperspace with the most bizarre sensation of mind.

And now, Jorus Merrill, Warden of the Sky -- be my eyes.

The old dragon trembled and shivered at the sight of the Flamewind -- the biggest light show in the universe. Crimson, yellow, flickers of blue; swirls and contortions and layered currents. Freedom incarnate. Jorus felt the dragon use his eyes, and a sense of profound joy filled him.
 
Sarge, vaguely, thought he spotted his friend, but he couldn't be sure. Instead, he sat and watched the lights do their work. Strangely, he didn't like them. At all. They made him feel... raw emotion. Red brought out his anger, violet unshackled his psychosis a little.

It wasn't healthy for him, and so he set the ship to station-keeping and stood, disappearing from the cockpit. To look upon the lights was something he couldn't do, not yet. Sometimes when you illuminate the darkness you see things are far worse than they were when you could see nothing.

Light wasn't always an improvement.

He felt a headache claw at him, and he did his best to shake it away.

Time to wait. There was nothing else to do.
 
The baby, quite happy to see reflected lights, burbled with glee, and crawled around her repulsor-restrained crib until she got a good view of the Flamewind out a side portal.

It distracted her for about a minute. Then she continued crying and stinking.


That was...helpful to me. Thank you, friend Warden. I trust you've learned what you wanted to learn from me? Has our trade been fair?

I can't think so, friend. What you've given me will last me the rest of my life.

And you think that what you've given me won't last me the rest of mine? Carry on, friend Warden.

And the dragon vanished utterly. One with the Force.

Leaving Jorus floating in space, staring at the flamewind. After a long, long moment, he tapped his comm.

"Sarge, you out there?"
 
"No, I'm going to be honest I haven't heard anything but the pounding in my head for the past... fifteen minutes. On my way to you now." And so it was he brought the Moth into position near Jorus and opened an airlock for him.
 
Jorus stepped through the airlock, cracked his helmet, and inhaled deeply.

"That, my brother and friend, oh greatest tracker in the universe, is the smell of diaper. Also, holy fething crap I just rode a dragon through hyperspace."

He set about changing Mara's diaper, staring out the viewport at the Flamewind.

"You doing all right, bro?"
 
Sarge gave him a puzzled look, like he couldn't hear what Jorus was saying. Putting a hand to his forehead, he groans and drops into a seat. When he opens his eyes, there's a wild look to them as though he can't place where he is.

Mouth hanging agape, he begins blinking rapidly.

He doesn't respond.
 
Over the course of about ten seconds, Jorus's eyes narrowed as his brain scrambled to catch up.

By the eleventh second, he had a crisp sequence of events and movements in line. Whatever the Duinuogwuin had done to his mind, something of that clarity still remained. He knew the exact course he needed to take.

Three steps took him and the baby to his own cabin. He bent and put her on the floor beside a toy of hers, then closed the door, sealing her inside. Two side steps put him well away from the door, facing Sarge.

Anything could happen. In the bulky space suit, minus the helmet, he had all manner of disadvantages. That couldn't be helped. And he wasn't armed. Carefully, he slipped out of the space suit.

"Sarge. Sarge, wake up."

He grabbed Sarge's shoulder.
 

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