The Sands of Change

[Vasto Cormin]

The sands of Tatooine brushed against the hard old structure, which was once a moving monument in space. It grand image now a fraction of what it once was, now claimed by the sea of the desert sands. However, as powerful as it once was, it had seemed to hold on to the world under the searing sun. The back of the colossal still visible, the large engines filled with sand, it pours out of the three tubes like a giant waterfall. Within the structure however, laid the only living passenger, who has made this dead transport his home.

Dwelling within the confines, the ship’s hull baring wounds of an enemy vessel, a young soul could be seen. Lying against a computer console, his head tired from the recent work he had done. The ship’s energy source was damaged long ago, from the attack. Ever since then, the power core always needs adjustments to its output. Every so often, the container would need to be readjusted manually, but now, due to the recent upgrades through spare parts, the system could be maintained via the main computer. But really, the young soul who accomplished this was not physically tired from this labor; in fact, he could go all day fixing things, for that was one of his trades. No, you could say that he was mentally worn out. Worn out from doing the same thing over and over again, with no sign of change, stuck, he was. Stuck, sitting on the hard chair he was, stuck, with his arms crossed together which were placed on the large computer board, and stuck was his head placed right on top of his arms. His dreaded arms swept to his right side.

The large monitor above him, tied directly into the keyboard which he laid upon, flashed with a horrendous alarm. The Core upgrade did not last as long as what he thought it would, perhaps it was the low grade tech he was working with. Vasto stood from his chair, cracking his neck, his hair now flowing freely down to his chest. His clothes were also somewhat wrinkled from his rest, his vest especially. Stretching his legs, the rifle strapped to his back with its long strap, Vasto made his way along the narrow corridors of the ship, his tools left in the same room of the core, ready to work once more.

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Arriving on Tatooine was not through his own will; it was commanded by his master, who wished the Ashborn to make contact with one of her spies in the area. Finding his contact was easy enough, except for the fact that the man stated he required something in return for his services. "A piece of equipment only found aboard certain ships", he'd said in a smarmy tone, thinking himself above a knight of the Sith. Foolish arrogance...

Asking around the dirty cantinas of Anchorhead, he heard rumors of a derelict behemoth of a ship out in the desert. "Well, that narrows it down..." he grumbled to himself as he followed one of the sources of the rumor to the location of the ship. The sea of sand had all but swallowed it whole, with only the tail end of it poking up from the earth.

"Leave me."

"Eh? You wanna stay out here alone? There are sand people out at night, y'know--"

"Leave. Me. Go home to your petty life and forget about this place." With that said, the man left the scene just as the Ashborn made his way towards the hull. Locating an apparent entry-point, he tore the hatch open through brute strength, creating a loud, seemingly neverending echo through the structure.

[member="Vasto Cormin"]

 

[Vasto Cormin]

Upon reaching the power core chamber, the large hourglass like structure placed in the center of the circular room, hummed with an irregular like noise. This being a sign that something was wrong with the construct, it's blue aura was faint as well. Tying is long dreaded hair back, he was ready to seek out the problem. Pressing the button to open the hatch into the mechanism's hardware and wires, a loud and alert noised echoed throughout the halls of the ship at the same time, his head jolting up as a reaction. "What was that...?" Was it another problem with this degrading ship of his, it couldn't be, there were only a few sections of the ship he could get operational, perhaps...

Vasto quickly ran towards the door, pressing the touch sensitive lock that was still operational, the door plates quickly shifting to allow passage through. His right hand switching a small switch on the rifle, the setting going from rapid fire, to single shot. perhaps something managed to get into the ship, from beneath. To venture down deeper into the ship, he has not done this before in a while. The anxious Sith breed casually walked the long stretched halls of the ship, his grey metal interior barely unlit , due to the power core. Once he would deal with this problem, it was back to the power core he would go.

With the up coming turn he took, he immediately ran back, his back against the wall near the turn, hiding his form away from sight down that particular corridor. His breathing became heavier a bit, as he grabbed the but of the ion custom rifle. The shadowy setting covered half of his upper face, making his jaw visual somewhat. Someone was here...

Judging from the spilt second, someone, or something tore its way inside the ship, hence the loud noise that was made. Another key thing that he saw, probably the most important sign of all, was the shadow that he saw among the wreckage, near the entrance. Dude to the placing of the planet's sun, one of them, the sun was angled towards the ship's entrances, causing a shadow to form from whatever stood at the entrance. Due to his combat training, taking note of these signs were key to survival. The now unsettle sith breed waited, remaining hidden from plain sight.

 

[Thyrian Hearthfire]

Entering the hull of the ship, there was utter darkness within. The only source of light in the immidiate area was his own eyes; fiery red lit up the otherwise pitch black surroundings, as if one was to hold up a lighter or a candle. It gave him enough to go after, and thus he made his way through the heap of abundant scrap metal littering about, with only a few corridors still intact from the crashlanding from Force know how long ago. Loud echoes formed with every step he took, lending to the notion that this vessel was indeed desolate and void of lifeforms.

Even so, his Sith training allowed him to see and hear and know things others wouldn't, and so when he happened upon one particular corridor, he remained stood in its opening and spoke using his booming voice. "I do not enjoy having weapons trained on me, boy. Unless you wish me to shove a lightsaber through your entire being, I'd suggest you put it down where it belongs."

[OOC: Sorry for the wait and somewhat lacking reply, I've been preoccupied with lots of things, both on site and IRL. I'll try to be more active from now on. ]

[member="Vasto Cormin"]