Public The Scream Between Stars

[Korben Aej]

Ellia "El" Arroh Protectorate Stories R'ayne Asara Korran Sha Judah Dashiell (and company!)

Weapons: C-10 heavy blaster pistol https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/s..._Reaper.png/revision/latest?cb=20201127015258

Droid Companion: A modified Phase Two Dark Trooper nicknamed "Mr. Fist" https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Phase_II_Dark_Trooper/Legends

Droid Weapon: EE-3 carbine rifle https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/EE-3_carbine_rifle/Legends

Korben had slid down from her droid's shoulders and retrieved her datapad from the Phase Two's backpack to check the passenger lounge's terminal for information when it happened, barely noticeable if one weren't paying close attention to the terminal itself before use. Behind her, the Chikarri's droid slowly walked along the circumference of the room itself, his non-replaced gauntlet resting on the butt of his blue-durasteel EE-3 carbine, while the intimidating phrik-and-bronze gauntlet-replacement swung lazily at his side, as though he had been an organic taking a casual stroll planetside, while that eerie recording finished assailing both her large ears and her droid's audio receptors. It was just as she had begun to reach for the connector that the screen - without her even touching a button - automatically shifted away from standby, to automatically begin to shift through the various sections all on its own!

For a second or two, Korben just stood there, the end of the cord held in one hand and her datapad in the other...

She had been within a piranha-beetle's antennae's worth of space away from connecting her datapad to the terminal, when the terminal switched on directly in her section of the ship, all on its own, with no input from either her or her droid, to begin cycling at a brief, if respectable speed through its various sections and departments. Even as she watched, the speed remained constant. After switching from the security team's lounge, the view displayed the layout, non-holographically, of the ship's medical bay.

What happened next made Korben glad that she often enjoyed fictional holo-novels, because it certainly grabbed her attention.

The display LINGERED for an additional few seconds on the medical bay. No standard vessel with a crw of more then a dozen operated in such a capacity that she knew of.

The medical bay, out of every other section, had just now been especially emphasized, both last of all and at a longer interval then any of the other sections, by five extra seconds.

The terminal shifted back to standby mode all by itself.

The teen released the connection cord to let it retreat back into its housing slot, and Korben felt her fur stand on end along her shoulders and forearms as she silently cursed herself for not paying extra attention to see if there were any security cameras watching from the few hallways that she and Fist had traveled down, even as she felt relief that she had BARELY avoided connecting her datapad to the ship's systems.

She had dodged a blaster bolt, as the old saying went!

She kept as silent and calm as possible as she raised her hand upwards, and listened as her droid stopped his calm, metallic pacing. Two furred fingers shifted upwards, before spreading apart, curling, and then pointing straight ahead. She knew her Phase Two was watching, and the gentle metallic clank of his armored plates along his left arm moved, unseen, to shift his hand into the view just out of the corner of her left eye, whereupon he took her datapad from her left hand. The young girl listened as the droid's pack opened and closed along his back, and she sighed and rubbed her eyes. She felt Fist's thick, phrik, bronze-laced arms shift under either of her armpits, to lift her upwards from behind and turn her around, and she let her body relax, while the gentle coolness of the mace touched and shifted against her side, as careful as his normal right gauntlet would have been; the left gauntlet guided her to lightly rest her chin on the droid's massive shoulder. To anyone or anything watching by any means, the action may have looked like lovers embracing.

She shifted to lean and against the droid's Trooper-helmet as both his mace and gauntlet hands each lowered back down, to lightly set his owner back on the floor again. She had spoken as softly to him as she could, and he had understood:

"...We're being watched... And herded..."

The Chikarri's hands raised again, one finger pointing forward directly, to stab forward once.

The nonverbal command was clear: Intimidate, but do not fire first.

Fist inclined his head silently, even as his owner withdrew her frosted white C-10 heavy blaster pistol from her side, raising the barrel to the ceiling, her tapered ears shifted to and fro atop her head, listening for the first signs of trouble...

The Sciurid alien didn't have to wait long...

Behind her and her droid, the distinct, swift whoosh! of a blast door heralded the arrival of someone, at last! R'ayne Asara

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre Athlea
Objective III: Answer the Distress Call
With: Judah Dashiell | Jayna Ismet-Thio | Protectorate Stories

The information from the passenger transport did little to reassure Iandre. An apparently intact vessel, functioning life support, and no detectable passengers or crew presented a contradiction she couldn't easily explain. More troubling was the brief alteration in the distress signal, suggesting that someone, or something, might still be attempting to communicate. Whatever had happened aboard, she wasn't inclined to dismiss the possibility that people needed help.

Before leaving the Challenger, Iandre returned to her quarters to retrieve her equipment. She changed from her sleeping clothes into her LO-58A armor, carefully securing each component and checking the seals that would let her survive vacuum exposure if the transport's environmental systems failed. She had no intention of trusting an unfamiliar vessel's atmosphere simply because its instruments reported breathable conditions. Her lightsaber found its familiar place at her side, along with the rest of her weapons and equipment. Once she was sure everything was secure, she returned to join Judah near the boarding ramp.

His decision to wear an envirosuit despite the pressure readings earned an approving nod. At least they agreed that caution was better than discovering the transport's life support limits firsthand.

"I'm glad you're taking precautions. There's too much about that ship we don't understand yet."

Leaving Jayna aboard was a decision Iandre hadn't made lightly. Her Padawan was capable and eager to learn, but an unexplained disappearance involving an entire passenger transport was hardly the sort of situation in which she intended to gamble with the girl's safety.

"Jayna, stay aboard the Challenger and keep the communications open. If anything changes, let us know immediately. And if something happens to us, your priority is getting help, not coming after us alone." Her voice was firm without being unkind. "I know you'd rather be coming along, but we need someone here whom I can trust to remain calm and think clearly."

Judah's kiss upon her cheek drew a brief smile from beneath her helmet, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze before accompanying him through the docking connection. Whatever unease she felt about the abandoned vessel, his presence reassured her, even if she would have preferred they spent their time together under considerably more pleasant circumstances.

Beyond the airlock, the dim crimson emergency lighting gave the reception corridor an unsettling appearance. Iandre took a moment to examine their surroundings, noting no obvious damage or immediate indication of what had become of the transport's occupants. The quiet was peculiar for a vessel that should have been carrying passengers, although she reminded herself that silence alone was hardly evidence of danger.

Judah's question prompted her to look farther along the passage before answering.

"Nothing I can identify yet. And that's rather the problem, isn't it? Everything appears intact, but there's no one here to explain why."

She let her awareness extend cautiously through the Force, searching for the familiar impressions of living beings without assuming anything she sensed would provide a complete answer. There was no reason to believe she could solve the transport's mysteries by reaching blindly into its corridors, and she was unwilling to mistake uncertainty for evidence.

"I'd suggest we stay together and find a functioning terminal. If the crew recorded anything before the distress signal began, it might tell us what we're dealing with."

She glanced toward Judah, a trace of familiar humor entering her voice. "And for the record, I think our next journey should involve somewhere considerably less mysterious. Perhaps a beach. One with absolutely no abandoned ships."

Her attention returned to the passage ahead as she continued alongside him, alert for anything that might explain the transport's unsettling silence.

 

[Protectorate Stories]

The Scream Between Stars

DM Post | Whispers in the Silence

Judah Dashiell | Iandre Athlea | Jayna Ismet-Thio

The reception corridor remained undisturbed as the newcomers ventured farther from the docking connection. Emergency lighting continued its intermittent cycle, casting long shadows across the polished deck plates and illuminating a series of directional signs identifying the passenger accommodations, administrative offices, and medical facilities. Nothing suggested that the transport had suffered any significant structural damage, and the atmosphere remained within acceptable parameters. Yet the absence of ordinary activity was becoming increasingly difficult to reconcile with the condition of the vessel. Even the smallest personal belongings remained where their owners had apparently left them, as though an entire population had simply abandoned its daily routines without warning.

Iandre's cautious exploration through the Force encountered much the same peculiar resistance that others aboard had experienced. The familiar impressions of nearby living beings remained recognizable, but beyond them, the transport seemed strangely indistinct. There was no obvious barrier preventing her from extending her awareness, nor any clear indication of a presence deliberately concealing itself. Instead, impressions that should have been relatively easy to distinguish seemed to fade into an uncertain distance, leaving the surrounding compartments difficult to interpret.

A functioning terminal stood near the entrance to the passenger administration section. Its display continued cycling through routine travel information, including the vessel's scheduled arrival and the names of several destinations along its route. Most of the information appeared ordinary, although the passenger manifest contained an unusual discrepancy. The transport's automated systems insisted that its full complement of passengers and crew remained accounted for, while the internal security network registered no occupants within any of the monitored compartments. Without warning, the terminal flickered, replacing the manifest with a single line of text: PASSENGER COUNT: INCREASING. The message remained visible for several seconds before the original display returned. No corresponding security alert accompanied the change, and the vessel's systems continued reporting their normal operating status.

Korben Aej | R'ayne Asara

The passenger lounge remained illuminated by the terminal's faint glow, its otherwise ordinary furnishings offering little indication of the disturbing circumstances surrounding the vessel. The display that had so abruptly directed attention toward the medical facilities had returned to standby, although a small indicator beside the screen continued blinking at irregular intervals. No visible camera occupied the room, and the nearby maintenance panels showed no obvious signs of tampering.

Beyond the lounge, the adjoining corridor connected several passenger compartments to the broader administrative section of the ship. The blast door separating the lounge from that passage remained operational, opening and closing without any apparent mechanical difficulty. The arrival of another investigator introduced the first ordinary sounds of movement into a space that had otherwise remained unnaturally quiet. For several moments, nothing else occurred, until the terminal unexpectedly activated again.

Rather than displaying the familiar directory, the screen filled with a sequence of numerical characters that appeared too quickly to read individually. They scrolled across the display before stopping upon a single designation: MEDICAL QUARANTINE: ACTIVE. A second line appeared beneath it, stating AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL: NONE. The information remained visible long enough to be examined before the display returned to standby. Somewhere beyond the lounge, a distant metallic tapping sounded through the ventilation system, consisting of three deliberate impacts, a pause, and another three. The noise appeared to originate from farther inside the vessel, although the interconnected passages made determining its precise location difficult.

Ellia "El" Arroh | Korran Sha

The flight recorder offered the first substantial evidence concerning the transport's final journey. Although portions of its data had been corrupted, the primary navigation records remained intact, documenting an otherwise routine hyperspace transit until approximately seventeen minutes before the vessel's unscheduled emergence into realspace. During that period, the crew had reported a series of unexplained disturbances affecting the communications systems, beginning with faint interference and progressing into increasingly severe disruptions.

The recovered audio contained several fragmented exchanges. A navigation officer reported unusual readings beyond the vessel's forward sensors, followed by another crew member questioning whether the interference was originating from inside the ship. Their conversation was interrupted by a high-pitched distortion that overwhelmed the recording for several seconds. When the voices returned, their composure had noticeably deteriorated, with one crew member exclaiming, "It's outside. I saw it move." A second voice responded, barely audible beneath the interference, "That's impossible. We're still in hyperspace." The final intelligible command came from the captain, ordering an immediate emergency reversion to realspace, although the recording ended before that maneuver could be confirmed.

A separate diagnostic file indicated that several passenger compartments had activated their emergency locking mechanisms during the disturbance. The system registered repeated requests for assistance, although none appeared to have reached the bridge. As the final portion of the recording played, the audio distortion briefly returned. Unlike the earlier interference, however, this sound carried a peculiar quality, almost resembling a distant voice stretched beyond recognition. It lasted only a moment before the recording terminated.

Elsewhere aboard the vessel, the strange disturbance Korran had perceived through the Force remained difficult to identify. Whatever had caused that sensation offered no further clarity, although the transport's persistent silence did little to make the surrounding corridors more reassuring.

Drakonll

The captain's terminal remained operational, its navigation interface displaying the transport's identification and last recorded route. Much of the information appeared mundane, detailing scheduled stops, passenger transfers, and routine communications with traffic control stations along the hyperspace lane. There was no indication that the vessel had encountered hostile ships or suffered a conventional attack.

The most recent navigation logs, however, contained a significant irregularity. Shortly before the emergency reversion, the ship's sensors had registered an unidentified disturbance immediately beyond its forward viewport. The recorded information offered no recognizable classification, and the accompanying visual data had been corrupted beyond ordinary reconstruction. An automated diagnostic report attributed the disturbance to a possible hyperspace sensor malfunction, although the captain had apparently rejected that explanation. Several emergency commands had been issued in rapid succession, including an order to disengage the hyperdrive and activate the vessel's internal security protocols, but the final command remained incomplete.

As the terminal continued displaying the recovered information, the bridge's forward viewport briefly darkened again. This time, the phenomenon lasted several seconds, obscuring the stars beyond the transparisteel before gradually fading. No corresponding fluctuation appeared within the bridge's environmental or electrical systems, leaving whatever had caused the earlier disturbance unexplained.

Xitli Sacul

The medical bay's quarantine systems continued their irregular operation, repeatedly announcing an isolation procedure that the ship's own records could not adequately explain. The automated voice occasionally distorted beyond recognition, while the emergency indicators above the sealed compartments flickered between warning states.

An additional diagnostic sequence became available through the maintenance interface, revealing that the quarantine had not originated from the medical staff. Instead, the command had been issued through the transport's central security network shortly before its emergency reversion from hyperspace. The authorization field contained no identifying information, and the accompanying explanation consisted of a single corrupted audio attachment.

The recording began with several seconds of indistinct background noise. A distant voice could be heard issuing instructions, although the words were impossible to distinguish. Then came a sudden metallic impact, followed by what sounded like hurried movement across a hard surface. The recording ended with a brief, piercing burst of interference, immediately after which the medical bay's announcement system fell silent.

For the first time since the quarantine began, the repeated countdown ceased entirely. The warning indicators remained illuminated, and the compartment doors stayed secured, but the oppressive repetition of the automated message had finally stopped. Whether the silence represented an improvement or something considerably worse remained uncertain.

Throughout the passenger transport, the emergency lighting flickered almost simultaneously. The disturbance lasted only a few seconds, barely enough to interrupt the functioning displays and cast the surrounding corridors into darkness. When the lights returned, the vessel's communications system issued a brief burst of static, followed by a sound that was faint at first, almost indistinguishable from the background interference, but gradually rose into something resembling a distant, prolonged scream.

The noise possessed no recognizable words, no obvious mechanical source, and none of the familiar qualities of an ordinary distress transmission. It lasted only three seconds before the familiar Mon Calamari blink code resumed, repeating its original plea for assistance as though nothing had happened.

 

[Drakonll]

Tag since he sensed Drakonll's Dark Side Healing and Rage. Korran Sha
Tag since she has the flight log box. Ellia "El" Arroh

Drakonll studied the evidence before him.

A ship that was abandoned.

No sign of life onboard.

Devoid of the Force.

Navigational records and the Captain's own actions show evidence that something had set off the external front sensors while they were in hyperspace.

That something was identified as a hyperspace sensor malfunction that was directly in front of the viewport. Directly in front, while in hyperspace.

The crew and Captain had seen something that made them reject that, they panicked and deactivated hyperspace.

They tried to escape and then activated their internal defenses. And failed.

Was it... what he thought it was?

Could the crew of this ship have awoken a presence in the deep of space, and that horror swarmed their ship? Wiping out their crew, draining them of life.

Drakonll remembered his first deep space excursion when his forces had been ambushed like this. And the screams they emitted, the mind splitting screams.

But was it what he thought? He needed to know now. The flight logs.

Drakonll searched around the bridge until he found where the Flight Logs were stored.

Gone, taken.

The original crew couldn't have taken them, why would they when they were attacked by something that appeared to have killed them off so quickly?

The black box was missing, but Drakonll knew that he had seen no one outside this ship nor did he sense anyone with the Force before entering.

Drakonll then stormed towards the viewport, and stopped.

'It flickered dark again, longer this time.' Drakonll stopped before touching it. But outside he could see several new ships of varying makes that were not there before.

The space around this ship had been empty when he arrived and launched himself from the transport ship to this derelict passenger ship. It was empty even as he Phase Walked inside the ship.

'Had time passed for a long period of time when I Phase Walked through?' He thought to himself.

Were the effects of the time rituals from the Beings in the Unknown Regions still lingering around him? Affecting him even now?

These ships had somehow arrived after he had Phase Walked in. And perhaps they had taken the flight logs while he was trapped in time.

He needed the flight logs now if he was going to confirm what he suspected. And whoever was now here had no idea what they had just walked into.

Drakonll walked up to the viewport again, yes there were ships out there now that hadn't been before. He had to have been lost in time when Phase Walking and they showed up. It was madness though.

The viewport flashed darkness again. Venting, he blasted it with flame as he moved away and towards the bridge exit.

Cutting off the flame, Drakonll reached out with the Force. Sending the Force flying down the corridor and through the ship. Searching aggressively for whoever had taken the black box. He needed to know.

Nearby, a group of them.

He strode forward, charging his energy to confront whoever took it.

They would all be in danger soon.

 

[Ellia "El" Arroh]

Well, an informal Jedi was always nice. And not half bad looking either, even if the young man was blind. Just meant he couldn't call out everything she did wrong. "Yes, it does, and no, I just managed to jimmy it out of the housing before you and your team showed up. Let's just hope our luck keeps..." Just as she said that, the noise came... It almost sounded like all of the parts of this ship were slowly coming alive, rising like the living dead. Yeah, they both were right to have a bad feeling about this ship.

El had no idea what was happening, but the way Korran's face moved and scrunched up, it wasn't a good sign. Whatever the Jedi was experiencing, it must have been some doozy, to say the least. And as much as El wanted to ignore it, the Officer doubted they could. She couldn't help but wince as the metal shriek rattled her bones. "Yeah... let's hope..." It was false hope if they actually believed it was. But sometimes that was better than the alternative.

When asked if she had felt anything weird coming from the ship, she could only shake her head. "Other than this whole thing just being a creepy haunted wreck, not really. Then again, I'm not attuned to those feelings like you are or even your species is." El knew a little bit about Mirialans, mostly on the topic of their famed sight through the Force. But Korran was regretting being born one right now.

A small sigh escaped her mouth as El didn't disagree with him. "Unfortunately... I think you are right... Now we just need to decide if we want to face it." She, of course, hoped the answer was no. They could... should circle the wagons and try to get the evidence off this box. Disturbances or not, they had a job to do.

As the voices came out of the Black Box, now it was El's turn to look like she was about to throw up... "Well... looks like we are up Nerf's Creek without a paddle... Worst thing is we are going to have to clear this entire ship out. And is that... things still here..." She quickly said a silent prayer that "it" didn't make a new home in here... "We check the passenger compartments first, and then we think about getting out of here. Do you agree, Korran? Otherwise, they might both need to get therapy if they stayed any longer.

Korran Sha

 

[Korran Sha]

Objective I: The Silent Vessel
Tags: Drakonll (for ability use and Korran's feeling it) | Ellia "El" Arroh | Protectorate Stories
Korran had been about to answer when the voices from the flight recorder began to play.

He fell silent, turning his attention toward the device as the recording unfolded. The fragmented sounds offered little comfort, and the growing realization that something had happened aboard this vessel left him with an unpleasant weight settling in his stomach. Whatever the crew had encountered, it had been enough to drive them from their intended course and into a situation from which they had apparently never escaped.

Ellia's suggestion was sensible. If there were still passengers somewhere aboard the transport, they could hardly justify leaving without making an effort to find them. And if there were none, a methodical search might at least establish what had happened here.

"Agreed," Korran replied, giving a small nod. "We should check the passenger compartments. If anyone survived, we can't leave them behind."

He paused, his attention drifting toward the corridor beyond them.

Something had changed.

The sensation came suddenly, an intrusion into his awareness that made the indistinct impressions of the ship seem almost insignificant by comparison. The Force, which had been so strangely difficult to interpret since his arrival, now seemed to recoil around a presence he could neither see nor understand. There was an intensity to it that made his breath catch, something sharp and oppressive that seemed to reach through the vessel with little regard for whatever lay in its path.

It was not the same as before.

Where the earlier sensation had been difficult to grasp, this was unmistakable in its intensity. Korran felt anger, or something that resembled it, but magnified into a presence that seemed to burn against the edges of his awareness. He had no understanding of its origin or purpose. He could not tell whether it belonged to someone aboard the transport or whether the ship itself had somehow become the conduit for something far more disturbing.

He only knew that it was moving.

Korran stiffened, his expression tightening as he turned toward the deeper corridors. The sensation was foreign enough to unsettle him, and the fact that he could not make sense of it only made matters worse. He had felt the emotions of countless living beings before, but never anything quite like this. It was as though something had taken the familiar language of the Force and twisted it into a form he could no longer recognize.

"Investigator Arron," he said quietly, his earlier composure giving way to something more guarded. "I think we may have a problem."

He hesitated, searching for words that would explain what he was experiencing without claiming certainty he did not possess.

"There's something nearby. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it through the Force. Whatever it is, it doesn't feel..." He stopped, struggling to find an adequate description. "It doesn't feel right."

A distant sound reverberated through the ship, metal groaning somewhere beyond their immediate surroundings. Korran's head turned toward it, his awareness straining to separate the ordinary vibrations of the transport from the strange presence pressing closer.

He wanted to retreat. The instinct was immediate, perfectly reasonable, and increasingly difficult to ignore. Yet there might still be people aboard this vessel, and abandoning them without knowing their fate was not something he could easily accept.

He drew a slow breath and faced Ellia again.

"We should stay together," he suggested. "And if we find anyone, we get them back to the relief freighter. If we discover something we can't handle, we leave and bring back help."

It was a simple plan, perhaps an obvious one, but it was the best he could offer under the circumstances. He only hoped that whatever was approaching would give them enough time to put it into practice.

​

 

[Drakonll]

(For his perception of Drakonll's aggressive outreach Korran Sha )

(She still has the black box Ellia "El" Arroh )

Drakonll flew down the corridors, his armored boots striking the ground. Easily announcing his presence as he strode down the corridors to where he felt the mass of living bodies. And something else. Subtlety be damned, nothing else mattered now but finding out if he was right.

The flight box may have nothing, but he doubted that line of thought. Otherwise they would not have taken it from the bridge. He could leave them, isolated or even as bait. While he penetrated deeper into the ship and sought out the creature, or creatures by himself.

But if these strangers had no idea what they were dealing with then they would likely become the next victims, making the creature even more powerful. Drakonll needed this ship intact so he could investigate further. Perhaps it held some evidence about the whereabouts of his Vae Victis forces. The fact that he had just been teleported far into time and this is the first hint of this type of phenomena happening seemed too coincidental. Perhaps he was reading too much into it. He had just experienced a severe time fluctuation again.

The passenger ship was vast, but Drakonll no longer wasted time in being quiet. He wanted them to hear him coming. He was likely to be shot immediately if he appeared out of nowhere without any warning. Within a moment he had covered hundreds of yards and bypassed more scenes of horror that further intensified his urgency. He reached out again through the Force and found them stopped ahead. Before they could move on, he was upon them.

The darkened corridors broadcasted his approach, his heavy armor filled the empty space as he broke through the darkness then halted twenty feet away from the group. The first thing they would have seen is his white skull visage of his helmet, glaring at them.

The group pointed all weapons at him that they had, Drakonll however remained still. His hands prepped for violence, his vision already taking in corners that he could Phase Walk to and gain a flanking attack. Perhaps even burn the lot of them in this corridor with his Pyrokinesis. That would all attract the creature though, so his lightsaber was the best option.

Instead the silence remained as the group looked at the large menace that appeared out of nowhere, and he looked back at the large gathering of them. And his black visored gaze finally fell onto the black box that a human looking woman with short black hair held onto. Her sidearm was pointed at his helmet, ready to fire with a sturdy grip.

He smiled inside, but calmed his urge to violence. He could not afford to damage the ship in a vicious fight. And if the creatures came upon them when they were fighting, it would get very messy.

His sense let him know that someone in the group was Force Sensitive. He saw the young blind man....

No, they still exist in this time? Drakonll thought to himself as he remembered the young and scarred Miraluka woman he had saved thousands of years ago, who then became his trusted assistant. Iritei was also lost to him now. All gone. He pushed it aside.

Drakonll's gaze looked back at the short haired woman.

"If you want to live, I need to see what you found in that black box. There is something on this ship—perhaps several things—more dangerous than me."

 

[Protectorate Stories]

The Scream Between Stars

DM Post | The Uninvited

Ellia "El" Arroh | Korran Sha | Drakonll

The corridor connecting the bridge to the passenger accommodations had remained remarkably undisturbed despite the transport's prolonged abandonment. Emergency lighting illuminated the polished deck plates, while the occasional hum of machinery provided the only consistent interruption to the silence. Even the arrival of additional investigators had done little to disturb the vessel's automated routines, although the increasingly erratic behavior of its communications systems suggested that something was changing beneath that outward appearance of normalcy.

As the three investigators found themselves in the same section of the vessel, a nearby passenger information terminal unexpectedly activated. Its screen displayed the transport's identification, followed by a list of occupied accommodations. Most entries appeared ordinary, consisting of cabin numbers and passenger identification codes, but several new records had been appended to the bottom of the manifest. Unlike the original passengers, these entries possessed no names or identification numbers. Instead, each had been assigned a temporary designation and a cabin number, accompanied by an arrival timestamp that predated the discovery of the abandoned transport.

The most recent entries corresponded to the number of living individuals presently gathered in that section of the ship. A small indicator beneath the manifest continued blinking, suggesting that additional records were being processed elsewhere within the vessel's administrative network. Whatever was responsible for the discrepancies had not issued a warning or requested authorization. The system simply continued accounting for its passengers, apparently indifferent to whether they had ever purchased passage.

Meanwhile, the flight recorder retained by Ellia emitted a brief electronic tone, followed by an unexpected continuation of its corrupted audio. The familiar voices of the bridge crew returned beneath a layer of interference, although this fragment had not appeared during the earlier playback. An unidentified officer could be heard demanding that the passenger decks be sealed, followed by several seconds of frantic background conversation. Then another voice emerged, considerably quieter than the others.

"Don't look at the windows. Whatever you do, don't look at the windows."

The recording dissolved into static before any explanation could follow. Almost simultaneously, a faint scraping noise traveled along the corridor ceiling, moving several meters before stopping directly above a maintenance access panel. Nothing emerged from the compartment, and the panel itself remained securely fastened. The sound did not resume, leaving the investigators with little indication of whether it had originated from the ship's machinery or something moving within the narrow spaces between its decks.

Korben Aej | R'ayne Asara

The passenger lounge's terminal had remained inactive since displaying its peculiar quarantine warning, although the intermittent blinking of its standby indicator suggested that the system had not entirely returned to normal. The adjoining corridor offered access to several passenger compartments, a maintenance junction, and a route toward the vessel's medical facilities. None of the doors appeared damaged, and the emergency lighting continued functioning with the same irregular consistency that had characterized the transport since its discovery.

Without warning, the lounge's overhead speakers produced a soft electronic chime, the sort ordinarily used to announce routine passenger information. A woman's recorded voice followed, pleasant and carefully modulated despite the faint distortion accompanying every word.

"Attention, passengers. Please return to your assigned accommodations. Cabin assignments have been updated. For your safety, remain inside until further notice."

The announcement ended with another cheerful chime, leaving the room silent once more. No corresponding emergency alert appeared on the terminal, and the ship's directory continued identifying the lounge as an unrestricted public area. A moment later, the display illuminated and presented a revised passenger manifest, its newest entries containing unfamiliar identification codes and cabin assignments that had not appeared in the original records.

The route toward the medical facilities remained available, although a security indicator beside the relevant corridor had changed from green to amber. According to the accompanying status display, the medical quarantine remained active, but the system had begun processing an unspecified request for access. There was no indication of who had submitted that request, and the authorization field remained conspicuously empty.

From somewhere beyond the adjoining passage came the familiar pattern of metallic tapping. Three measured impacts, followed by a pause and another three. This time, however, the sound was accompanied by something considerably more difficult to explain. A second series of taps answered from the opposite direction, matching the original rhythm almost perfectly before both fell silent.

---

Throughout the abandoned transport, the passenger information network continued updating its records. Cabin assignments appeared where none had existed before, and the automated systems quietly revised their occupancy totals without requesting confirmation from the individuals concerned.

Deep within the administrative network, a previously inaccessible security file became active. Its creation date corresponded to the transport's final minutes in hyperspace, although its contents consisted of little more than a corrupted passenger manifest and a brief instruction entered by an unidentified crew member.

DO NOT ANSWER WHEN IT CALLS YOUR NAME.

The file remained accessible for several seconds before the terminal displaying it abruptly returned to standby. Somewhere within the ship, a communications speaker crackled to life, releasing a faint breath of static before falling silent again.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"A beach." Judah didn't want to point out he lived on an island, the beach was everywhere. Age and experience had taught him this meant Ian was looking for a real trip. "I can make that happen. Frankly I think you just want to show off in a bikini but I can suffer with that consequence. It will be difficult but I will somehow manage."

Chuckling, he focused back on what she had mentioned. Finding a terminal that would give them information. Right. Light bounced around as he tried to find his directional bearings once more. Focus was on the plumbing and wires and what direction it seemed things were going in, the more he saw the more he assumed it was a main corridor.

"This way."

"If they recorded anything, I am uncertain it will make the mystery easier. Even if we do uncover what has occurred they may have simply just died. Always unfortunate to find out. We may have to alert sector authorities that this vessel is in danger of drifting into hyperlane traffic."

Korben Aej | Iandre Athlea | Jayna Ismet-Thio
​

 

[Ellia "El" Arroh]

"No... We can't..." As much as the Police Officer wanted to get out of here, she knew leaving anyone still here would be a death sentence for them. Honestly, she half wanted to blast this thing to smithereens, but there were lives to save. At least she thought that till she noticed Korran's expression and where he was looking. She quickly drew her blaster pistol from her holster as Korran said that they had a problem. El responded dryly, trying not to show how much fear she currently held inside her heart. "No kidding... I don't need the Force to know that..." They had barely dipped a toe into this ship, and already they were starting to drown...

El only nodded at the Jedi's plan. It was sensible enough, but by the time they came back... well, it would already be too late. Then again, it might be time to worry about themselves. Or at least that's what her first thoughts were as the figure in all black emerged out of the shadows, asking... no, demanding... to see the black box. El gripped the box tightly in her hand, not even considering that option. Not for a Sith.

It was then she heard the scraping in the vents coming towards them, and the Officer knew what they had to do. The Sith clearly wasn't a newbie. By the way Korran reacted, this man... or some kind of machine of flesh... The team couldn't win... Rescuing anyone wasn't an option anymore. The team would be lucky to rescue themselves. She only had one idea... one idea that the Jedi would probably stop on its tracks, but it was the only idea she had in her back pocket. "Everyone, to the airlock now!" Her hand quickly came up to her suit's mic, her voice sounding as panicked as she felt. "Freighter, this is Agent Arron! Fire with all the weapons you have at the sections of the ship aft of us! Now!" The Corsec Agent knew there would be no stopping the Sith once they got going; even Korran probably couldn't beat this man in a straight-up duel. So, it was time to hit the red emergency button and hope that if they passed on, the Sith passed on with them. And if any of the passengers were caught up in the blast, being vaporized was better than ending up in a Sith slave camp or slowly being torn apart. Or at least that's what El told herself as she tried to move to the airlock, Ones forgive her.

Korran Sha Drakonll

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Judah's remark about a bikini earned him a sidelong glance, although the amused smile accompanying it remained concealed behind the dark visor of her helmet. She hadn't anticipated that particular interpretation of her suggestion, but she was growing accustomed to his ability to find humor in almost any situation.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a peaceful afternoon without an emergency distress signal, but I'm glad to hear you're willing to make such a tremendous sacrifice."

Her amusement faded as she followed Judah along the corridor, studying the directional signs and the undisturbed surroundings. The transport appeared to be in remarkably good condition, considering its circumstances. Personal belongings remained where their owners had apparently left them, yet there was no indication of where those people might have gone.

"We should certainly notify the authorities, but I'd prefer to establish whether anyone is still aboard before we leave. There may be survivors somewhere the internal sensors aren't detecting."

She cautiously reached into the Force again, searching for any sign of life aboard the transport. Judah's familiar presence was easy to distinguish, and she sensed others elsewhere in the vessel. Yet the farther she reached, the less reliable those impressions became. No discernible barrier or opposing presence existed, only an unsettling lack of clarity that kept her from pinpointing where those individuals were.

"We're not alone aboard this ship. I can sense other living beings, but something is making it difficult to determine exactly where they are. I can't tell whether they're passengers or others responding to the distress signal."

A functioning terminal near the passenger administration section caught her attention. Iandre approached it, examined the manifest, and compared its information with the internal security records. The discrepancy was immediately apparent. According to the manifest, everyone was accounted for, yet the security system registered no occupants.

Before she could investigate further, the display flickered.

PASSENGER COUNT: INCREASING.

She watched the message disappear, replaced by the ordinary manifest as though nothing had happened.

"Judah, take a look at this. The manifest claims everyone is accounted for, but the security system can't locate a single occupant. And now it's reporting that the passenger count is increasing."

She glanced toward him, her expression hidden behind the visor of her grey LO-58A armor.

"We should make a copy of these records while we can. I'd also like to check in with Jayna and make certain everything is still normal aboard the Challenger."

For the moment, Iandre stayed beside the terminal, reluctant to go farther without first determining what the transport's systems were trying to tell them.

Judah Dashiell Jayna Ismet-Thio Protectorate Stories

 

[Jayna Ismet-Thio]

Objective: Monitor the Challenger / Request Permission to Join the Investigation
Location: Aboard the Santhe Challenger, docked with the mysterious passenger transport
Outfit: Normal Blue Field Outfit
Tags: Iandre Athlea | Judah Dashiell

Jayna had been given an important responsibility. She knew that because Iandre had told her so. More than once, in fact, and in that particular way adults sometimes spoke when they were trying to convince a teenager that being left behind was actually a privilege. Keep the communications open. Watch for anything unusual. Get help if something went wrong. All perfectly reasonable instructions. All perfectly boring.

The young Padawan sat in the copilot's seat aboard the Santhe Challenger, one leg tucked beneath her and the other swinging idly as she watched the displays. She had already checked the communications equipment three times, reviewed the sensor readings twice, and made certain that the ship's systems were operating normally. There was only so much excitement one could squeeze out of a perfectly functional console. She sighed.

Somewhere aboard that mysterious transport, Iandre and Judah were undoubtedly uncovering all sorts of fascinating things. Strange clues, abandoned corridors, perhaps even some dangerous mystery that required a Jedi's particular talents. Meanwhile, Jayna was guarding a ship that appeared perfectly capable of guarding itself.

Her thoughts wandered back to the pair's departure. Judah had been all serious business, talking about pirates and checking his blasters before leaning over to give Iandre a kiss on the cheek. Jayna had caught that little moment, and it had taken considerable effort not to giggle. Iandre had already admitted that she and Judah were together, so it wasn't exactly a surprise. Still, there was something wonderfully amusing about seeing her usually composed master being someone's girlfriend. Especially when that someone was a man who had been wandering around in his pajamas with his hair sticking up in every direction earlier. Jayna grinned to herself. Maybe when they got back, she'd ask whether kissing her master was part of Judah's standard pre-mission safety checklist.

Her gaze drifted toward the two lightsabers hanging from her belt. Two lightsabers. Years of training under her parents. A growing understanding of Ataru and Makashi. And here she was, bravely defending a communications console against the terrifying possibility of an incoming transmission. "Master Iandre would probably say patience is part of being a Jedi," she muttered to herself. Jayna considered that for a moment. "Dad would probably say I should be practicing while I wait." She straightened in her seat, apparently satisfied with that assessment, and reached for her datapad. There were training exercises she could review, after all. Perhaps she could work through some of the footwork combinations Iandre had introduced, at least mentally. It wasn't quite the same as actually practicing, but it was better than counting the lights blinking across the instrument panel.

She had barely begun when a soft notification drew her attention back to the console. A sensor update. Jayna leaned forward, studying the information. The transport's automated systems were still transmitting routine telemetry, but something about the data caught her attention. A portion of the information appeared to repeat at intervals, almost as though the system were sending the same status report rather than updating it properly. She frowned and brought up an earlier transmission for comparison.

The readings weren't necessarily alarming. Old equipment malfunctioned all the time, and whatever had happened aboard the transport could easily have damaged its systems. Still, she couldn't help noticing that the repeated information seemed unusually consistent. "That's weird."

She ran another comparison, this time checking the timestamps against the Challenger's own sensor records. The discrepancy remained. Whether it meant anything was another question entirely. Jayna was considering whether she should report it immediately when the communications console chimed. Her head snapped toward the display. An incoming transmission from Iandre. The timing was so perfect that Jayna actually laughed.

"Oh, thank the Force!" She accepted the transmission with perhaps a little more enthusiasm than a professional communications officer might have considered appropriate. "Master! Hi!"

She caught herself, straightened in the seat, and attempted to adopt a more official demeanor. "Everything's fine over here. The Challenger is still exactly where you left it, all the systems are working, and nobody's tried to steal anything." A mischievous smile tugged at her lips before she continued. "I did notice something strange, though. Some of the transport's telemetry looks like it's repeating instead of updating. I compared the timestamps, and they don't quite match what our sensors are recording. It might just be a malfunction, but I thought you should know."

She transmitted the relevant readings, pleased that she had something useful to contribute. Then came the question she'd been considering for what felt like an eternity. "Soooo..." Jayna drew the word out before catching herself again.

"I've been thinking. You've got Judah with you, and I'm sure he's very helpful, but wouldn't having another Jedi around be useful? I mean, if there's something dangerous over there, two lightsabers are better than one. Technically, three, since I've got two." She glanced down at her weapons as though their presence somehow strengthened her argument. "And I've been practicing everything you've taught me. I could help investigate, or watch your backs, or even just carry things if you need me to." That last suggestion sounded considerably less appealing once she'd said it aloud, but she pressed on.

"I know you told me to stay here, and I haven't gone anywhere. But I really think I could help. I promise I'll stay close and follow your lead." There was a brief pause. "Please?" Jayna folded her hands in her lap, trying to look composed despite the hopeful anticipation written across her face. She had made her case, reported the unusual readings, and, most importantly, hadn't abandoned her post. Surely that counted for something. Now all she needed was for Iandre to agree.

 

[Korran Sha]

Objective I: The Silent Vessel
Tags: Drakonll | Ellia "El" Arroh | Protectorate Stories
The warning from the flight recorder lingered in Korran's thoughts long after the voice had dissolved into static.

Don't look at the windows.

He had no intention of doing so. Not that looking would have helped him much, given the nature of his sight, but the warning carried an urgency that was difficult to dismiss. It had not sounded like the sort of instruction given in response to an ordinary mechanical failure. There had been fear in that voice, raw and unmistakable, and Korran had begun to suspect that whatever had happened aboard this transport had been considerably worse than an evacuation gone wrong.

Then the terminal activated.

Korran turned toward the sudden electronic chime, his attention settling upon the manifest as its contents appeared. Passenger accommodations, identification codes, ordinary administrative details. At first glance, there was nothing particularly remarkable about it. Then he noticed the entries at the bottom, designations without names, cabin assignments without identification numbers. New passengers, apparently, though none of them had checked in.

His brow furrowed.

"That's odd," he murmured, leaning slightly toward the terminal. "Were those entries there before?"

He had barely finished the question when the scraping began overhead.

The sound traveled along the ceiling, metal dragging against metal, before stopping directly above the maintenance panel. Korran went rigid. His awareness reached instinctively toward the space beyond the panel, searching for some indication of what might be moving there, but the familiar difficulty of interpreting the ship offered him little comfort. He could sense the others around him. The machinery. The faint, indistinct impressions that seemed to belong to the transport itself.

Whatever lay beyond the panel remained frustratingly uncertain.

Then something else arrived.

The change in the Force was so sudden that Korran almost recoiled from it. A dark presence pressed into his awareness, sharp and forceful, accompanied by an intensity that made the earlier disturbance seem distant by comparison. It was not simply anger, though anger seemed to burn somewhere within it. There was something else beneath that, something cold and unfamiliar that left him struggling to make sense of what he was feeling.

His attention snapped toward the approaching footsteps.

When the armored figure emerged from the darkness, Korran instinctively stepped back. The heavy silhouette, the skull-like visage, and the sheer certainty with which the stranger occupied the corridor would have been imposing enough without the sensation that accompanied him. Korran could not reconcile the figure before him with what he felt through the Force. The two seemed inseparable, yet the darkness he sensed was so strange to him that he could not determine whether it came from the stranger himself or something surrounding him.

He had never encountered anything quite like this.

The others raised their weapons, and Korran found himself wishing he had something more useful than instinct and uncertainty to contribute. His hands remained at his sides, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his robes as he tried to make sense of the newcomer.

Then the stranger spoke.

There is something on this ship—perhaps several things—more dangerous than me.

Korran could not tell whether it was a threat, a warning, or an attempt at persuasion. Perhaps it was all three.

Before he could respond, Ellia issued her order to retreat toward the airlock and called for the relief freighter to open fire on the sections behind them.

Korran turned sharply toward her.

"Wait!" The word escaped before he had fully considered what he meant to say. He glanced toward the ceiling, where the scraping had ceased, then back toward the armored stranger. "If there are still people aboard, firing on the ship could kill them."

It was an obvious objection, and one he knew might mean very little against the danger they faced. The manifest had registered them as passengers. The recording had warned the crew about the windows. Something was moving through the spaces above their heads, and the stranger before them seemed to know considerably more about the situation than he was willing to explain.

Korran wanted answers. More than that, he wanted to believe there was still a chance to help anyone who might remain alive.

But the darkness surrounding the armored figure was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. He could not understand it, could not name it, and could not tell whether standing near it was more dangerous than whatever lurked elsewhere in the vessel.

He swallowed, forcing himself to look toward the stranger without allowing his unease to dictate his next words.

"You say something else is aboard this ship. What is it?"

His voice was quieter now, but the question carried a genuine urgency.

"Because if you know what we're dealing with, we need to know too."

Another faint scrape sounded above them.

Korran's head tilted upward, his attention fixed upon the maintenance panel. Whatever answer the stranger might offer, they were running out of time to decide what to do with it.

​

 

[R'ayne Asara]

something in the dark

​

dark aresnal • Draconic Scourge | Aura of Asara
tags • Protectorate Stories | Korben Aej

The irregular tapping crawled through the ventilation system with all the subtlety of a scalpel probing an exposed nerve, each metallic impact carrying through the vessel’s hollow architecture before vanishing into the suffocating silence. I raised my eyes toward the ceiling, studying the ventilation grilles with the detached concentration of a scientist examining an unfamiliar organism beneath a microscope.

Three impacts, a pause, three more.

Deliberate.

Reproducible.

Potentially communicative.

I passed through the operational blast door, my gaze following the conduits disappearing overhead, while my mind catalogued the possibilities; a mechanical fault, an automated maintenance system, or something considerably less compatible with the comforting laws of engineering.

The ship had already demonstrated an inexplicable interest in its medical facilities, and the terminal’s intermittent activity suggested that whatever intelligence governed these disturbances possessed either a rudimentary understanding of surveillance or an irritating fondness for theatrical entrances.

Then my attention descended from the ceiling and settled upon an unexpected tableau; a red-brown Chikarri, her tan underside contrasting against the dim illumination, accompanied by a droid that appeared to have been assembled from the surviving relics of some ancient stormtrooper project.

The furry alien's blaster pistol was pointed directly upward.

For several seconds, I simply regarded the pair. Then, to my own considerable amusement, a genuine chuckle escaped my lips, soft and wonderfully inappropriate beneath the oppressive silence.

“A Chikarri,” I remarked, the corners of my black-painted lips curling into a faint smile. “I must confess, you would not have ranked particularly highly on my list of species I expected to encounter while poking about a ghost ship. And yet, here we are.”

My reddish-orange eyes briefly examined the droid before returning to its companion. “You are quite right to be armed, incidentally. Something is most certainly amiss aboard this vessel.”

My amusement lingered, although my thoughts had already begun rearranging themselves around a more productive problem. The hidden compartment. I had not forgotten its existence, nor the peculiar circumstances surrounding its concealment.

If my memory served me, and hauntingly enough, it almost always did, the Chikarri possessed a notable aptitude for tinkering with technology, dismantling mechanisms, and coaxing functionality from machinery that more sensible beings would have condemned to a scrapyard.

A useful characteristic. Particularly when confronted with an obstacle that refused to surrender its secrets through conventional means. If the compartment could not be spliced, bypassed, or persuaded to relinquish its contents through an electronic interface, then perhaps the solution was considerably more primitive; disassembly.

There was a certain scientific elegance in abandoning the attempt to convince a mechanism to open when one could simply determine how it had been constructed and reverse the process. My gaze narrowed thoughtfully as I considered the possibilities, imagining concealed fasteners, redundant locking assemblies, and whatever ingenious little safeguard had been employed to keep the compartment inaccessible.

“Tell me, little tinkerer,” I continued, allowing my voice to acquire the smooth, aristocratic warmth I reserved for situations in which another person’s curiosity might prove more valuable than their obedience, “if you possess the means to get through a locked compartment safely, I believe I could sate that inquisitive nature your species is so frequently accused of possessing.”

I inclined my head, studying her with undisguised interest. “Consider it a mutually beneficial expedition into the realm of forbidden engineering. You provide the technical expertise; I provide the incentive. And, should our investigation uncover something sufficiently interesting, you may retain half of whatever we find.”

My smile sharpened by a fraction.

“Naturally, that depends upon the nature of the discovery. You must forgive me, generosity is a new concept to me, one I haven't decided if I prefer to practice to often in the future.”

I nodded toward the ceiling, redirecting our attention to the ventilation system as another thought settled into place with the unpleasant certainty of a tumor appearing on a diagnostic scan. Whatever had produced those measured impacts might be communicating, testing the structural integrity of the ductwork, or attempting to provoke a response from anyone unfortunate enough to hear it.

I had insufficient evidence to distinguish between those hypotheses, but the absence of evidence was not evidence of safety, a distinction I suspected this vessel had already demonstrated rather emphatically. “Because whatever that is,” I said, my tone cooling as I regarded the shadowed grilles above us, “I can assure you it is not friendly. At least, I would strongly advise against assuming otherwise until it has furnished us with compelling evidence to the contrary.”

I let the silence settle between us for a moment, allowing the distant, metallic corridors to retain their dreadful uncertainty. “I have a hypothesis, however. Whatever has been sealed inside that compartment may be connected to our little stalker. Perhaps it is a component, a recording, a specimen, or some other fragment of the explanation this ship has so far refused to provide. Alternatively, it may be an entirely useless relic, in which case you are welcome to keep it, provided it does not attempt to devour you, infect your droid, or compromise my continued existence.”

My eyes returned to the Chikarri, bright with cold amusement. I extended one hand toward the corridor leading back into the vessel, offering neither reassurance nor a promise of safety. “The choice is yours. Help me dismantle a mystery, and there may be something worthwhile at the end of it. Decline, and we can continue listening to whatever is crawling through the ventilation system until it decides that conversation would be more entertaining at closer range.”

My gaze lifted once more toward the ceiling. “Personally, I find the former considerably more appealing. I prefer my specimens contained, my mysteries dissected, and my predators identified before they begin feeding.”​

 

[Korben Aej]

Weapons: C-10 heavy blaster pistol https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/s..._Reaper.png/revision/latest?cb=20201127015258

Droid Companion: A modified Phase Two Dark Trooper nicknamed "Mr. Fist" https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Phase_II_Dark_Trooper/Legends

Droid Weapon: EE-3 carbine rifle https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/EE-3_carbine_rifle/Legends

R'ayne Asara
Korben had taken to rubbing at her temples in frustration at this sudden and strange turn of events, and was silently cursing herself for not remaining onboard her TIE outside of this derelict and settling for increasing her scans to maximum at point-blank range to save her scrawny little butt from either a metaphorical or literal fire.

Probably the latter, in all likelihood.

But, unfortunately, her medical code of ethics would have frowned upon such a course of action once she had discovered that there were no biological contaminants on the ship directly and, as the fact that the life support systems seemed to be functioning, she was duty bound to investigate.

There were times that Korben absolutely hated being heroic, even as she enjoyed all of the holo-novels that portrayed such matters nicely and well... Admirably. Usually though, those awesome, entertaining tales left out the grime, horror and apprehension of a good number of situations, to say nothing of pulse-pounding, crap-your-pants, holy-acklay-@&#*! moments that often came alongside the moments of happiness, brave-heartedness and absolute truths and resolve that came about when one lived those moral actions out by oneself!

In short, Korben had been focused too much on the results and not on every moment that came before the heroic conclusions in question!

She found herself lost in such thoughts, tail swaying softly behind her as she fiddled with her blaster pistol's settings, before pointing the barrel upwards, even as a door opened up behind her.

She then saw a shadow move upside-down as she tilted her furred head backwards a bit, at the top and in one corner of her line of sight...

SITHSPIT!

The Shadow, - a woman, the Chikarri caught the feminine shapeliness of a scarlet face - a Twi'lek woman, as could be judged by her upside-down, dangling lekku, actually smiled in an inverted manner even as the Sciurid teen gasped and jumped to one side, dropping her pistol to the floor with a harsh clattering noise as she slipped, butt-first down onto a red-cushioned swivel chair in front of the terminal she had been studying only moments before, her bushy tail trembling, puffed-out and with an ear twitching erratically!

“A Chikarri,”
“I must confess, you would not have ranked particularly highly on my list of species I expected to encounter while poking about a ghost ship. And yet, here we are.”

In front of and to one side of his panicked Master, the immense, black-and-bronze form of Mr. Fist shifted, raising his right hand - which ended in an immense gray mace covered in bronze, glinting spikes - upwards, outwards and to the right, like a batter prepping for the swing in a youngling's ball game, while his normal gauntlet leveled his EE-3 carbine towards the older Twi'lek woman, the weapon barrel kissing her right temple gently, though the Twi'lek would easily see the rodent girl raise a hand even as the droid watched her with a slight, if brief, tilt of its head.

The Chikarri actually laughed a little. "While I can't speak for the others, I am a traveler at heart." Her voice was accented and, had she heard any of them in the wider Galaxy, the Twi'lek may have recognized the accent as Ithorian.

She bent down to retrieve her fallen pistol, raising it back up to point it at the ceiling, a gesture far more polite then her droid's action.

“You are quite right to be armed, incidentally. Something is most certainly amiss aboard this vessel.”

The rodent girl huffed a little, her form shivering with what may have been nervous energy as she actually holstered her blaster pistol - she did have nothing to fear (she thought) with her droid's blaster's muzzle pressed lightly against the Strange Woman's head. Having calmed a bit even as her pacing continued, the slim, petite alien folded her arms over a rather boyish chest, her tail dancing to and fro as she seemed to be thinking. "I guessed that just before you got here, Madame..." Her accented voice lowered, as though she were afraid that someone might be listening to them, even as she took a step closer to the scarlet female, "This very terminal showed every section of the ship, without my interacting with it, on is own as I entered and was about to look into it. It stopped on the med-bay last, and lingered there for a few extra seconds compared to its readout of every other section, while I watched." The girl swallowed and then shivered, even as she turned her worry-laced face to the Twi'lek

"We're being herded - you, me, him," A furred finger pointed to her stoic droid, "and anyone else who may be on board, passenger or brave investigator like us both, I've concluded, just from that one incident."

“Tell me, little tinkerer,”
“if you possess the means to get through a locked compartment safely, I believe I could sate that inquisitive nature your species is so frequently accused of possessing.”

She listened to the Twi'lek's thoughts on the Chikarri as a whole, and noticed how she was keen on the smaller of them - Korben - investigating the ventilation system to some degree. She frowned at the mention of engineering and tinkering, and kept listening. Upon hearing the desire of reward, she smiled a little, the action left-sided and crooked and with that bushy tail shivering.

“Naturally, that depends upon the nature of the discovery. You must forgive me, generosity is a new concept to me, one I haven't decided if I prefer to practice to often in the future.”

The rodent teen smiled in what she hoped was a friendly and companionable manner, even as she no longer seemed perturbed or leery of the Strange Woman. Indeed, she snapped her fingers twice, and the immense, Wookiee-sized droid lowered both his carbine, holding it along one shoulder and behind his neck. The droid's master just seemed happy to have finally found another living soul aboard the ship, for her part, her emerald eyes bright as she studied the Strange Woman's attire and tattoos, possibly from one Force-Using sect or another. Her gaze shifted upwards towards the vent itself and she recalled the ominous sounds and her own feelings of fear back when she had been sensibly outside of the shape.

No way in the Hells of Corellia would she risk her tail - literally - for a complete stranger, no matter how charming he or she might be!

Keeping silent, Korben continued to twirl her blaster, listening politely and intently as her droid kept cautious watch over them both.

“Because whatever that is,”
“I can assure you it is not friendly. At least, I would strongly advise against assuming otherwise until it has furnished us with compelling evidence to the contrary.”

The rodent girl chuckled a little at the Strange Woman's words, her goggled eyes traveling up and down over the woman's tattoos... "Any youngling with a monster in the closet could tell you that, Ma'am. No disrespect."

Sith, Korben had just now concluded. That bit about being new to generosity was the water jug that broke the Dewback's back.

The Chikarri shifted her weight from foot to foot, now silently dedicated to being as cautious as possible...

“I have a hypothesis, however. Whatever has been sealed inside that compartment may be connected to our little stalker. Perhaps it is a component, a recording, a specimen, or some other fragment of the explanation this ship has so far refused to provide. Alternatively, it may be an entirely useless relic, in which case you are welcome to keep it, provided it does not attempt to devour you, infect your droid, or compromise my continued existence.”

The Chikarri, while being polite, seemed to be trailing more restless and nervous energy, even as she continued to pace before this newfound and unexpected companion, twirling her weapon with surprisingly practiced ease, ears twitching with her movements to remain swiveled towards the Twi'lek as she kept listening to the taller woman.

“The choice is yours. Help me dismantle a mystery, and there may be something worthwhile at the end of it. Decline, and we can continue listening to whatever is crawling through the ventilation system until it decides that conversation would be more entertaining at closer range.”

The younger female shifted as she listened to the Twi'lek's thoughts on the Chikarri as a whole. The Rodent had frowned at the mention of engineering and tinkering, but had kept on listening. Upon hearing the promise of reward, she had smiled a little, the action left-sided and crooked, but upon hearing of the promise of meeting the unseen... Whatever it may have been in a ventilation shaft, of all places, her frown returned, before it deepened more then the Twi'lek may have liked.

“Personally, I find the former considerably more appealing. I prefer my specimens contained, my mysteries dissected, and my predators identified before they begin feeding.”

The smaller alien sighed, rubbing her temple with her free hand even as she considered the last of the Strange Woman's final words.

"I'm no engineer, Lady - I was raised as Ithorian and Tarro, believe it or not, as my birth parents abandoned me, so... Not sure what help I might be in regards to engineering, and I've got no desire to go exploring a vent... I'm a medic, loosely-speaking and a former musician-by-chance... I'm only formerly trained in Botany and Xenobotany thanks to my adopted culture's Herdship." She swallowed and retrieved her pistol, twirling the weapon via the trigger guard with a finger nervously, "If anything, I think we should watch each other's backs and stick to the main halls. I sure as hell am not entering a dark, enclosed space alone. I don't want to risk getting stuck, at the very least..."

The Scuirid huffed a little, holstering her weapon as she raised a hand to point towards the sign that directed the way to the administration.

"If we can get to the administration section of the ship, I think we can get some answers from the Captain's logs and entries and plan out a better course of action based on the context that that new information gives us."

The girl cracked her knuckles and offered a cheerful smile. "I'm a medic, and if anything does happen, I'm here to patch you up and Fist here can beat anything to a pulp if he's not inclined to shoot it first!"

Strangely, at that very point, all three of them stumbled just a little as the sound of distant blasterfire began, and the very ship they were on tremble with the impact of laserfire.

"What now?!" The rodent groaned as the grasped the back of a chair in the middle of the lounge to prevent herself from falling. Fist, meanwhile, whunked! his mace hand into the side of a wall near the door to stabilize himself, even as more blasterfire sounded and the ship shook yet more.

Korben cursed in Ithorese once again, even as she turned to make her way out of the door she had come, casting a desperate glance at the ship directory as she slipped through the door she had initially entered. She shouted and motioned to her droid and to the Strange Woman, who was now under her care, whether she liked it or not.

"We've got to move away from those shots! NOW!!! We've got to get to the ship's administrative section!!"

OOC: I think this post sucked, but that's just me... Hope you guys enjoy it enough. I never feel sure when responding to that much from another, and I shouldn't have kept just the quotes alone like that... Live and learn...

I also wrote this while tired and checked it once in the dead of night. I'll poke at it a bit more in the morning, proper. I hope everyone is still having an absolute blast, even despite this one less-then-stellar post. I know I am! Happy Writing, all!

 

[Drakonll]

Korran Sha for being level headed.)
Ellia "El" Arroh for still having the black box and wanting to space everyone.)

Drakonll loosened his grip on the pommel of his lightsaber after the Miraluka, or whatever he was, spoke some sense to his overreacting partner. Drakonll had quickly predicted her retreat path when she said to space them all, ordering her ship to open fire and likely cause massive damage across this ship. Her brash reaction nearly forced him to send his lightsaber flying from his hand in an arc to take her down before she could escape.

"You are either stupid or insane!" Drakonll yelled at her with no remorse, his metallic voice shaking the corridor in it's fury. "I need this ship intact and so do you! Not in pieces while you try to run back to your personal coffin."

Drakonll growled at her and then redirected his frustration onto Korran. "The Captain's log revealed something IN FRONT of this ship caused them all to panic, while in Hyperspace."
"They then tried to activate the internal security systems and failed, I only know of one creature capable of that during my wars in the Unknown Regions."

Drakonll looked over to Ellia again, his loud voice dripping with distaste. "IF it is what I think it is, It is stronger in space. We need the ship in one piece."

Drakonll lowered his hand from Ellia before he became too tempted to blast her with Pyrokinesis. He faced Korran.

"You want to survive? Stay on this ship. And if you want to know more then I need that box, I don't need to keep it. I just need to confirm what this crew saw or heard before they DIED."

He had been much calmer, now his shock had been replaced with anger. He was certain this group would all die, unless he hunted the beings down first. Just like he had done in the Unknown Regions. But he had to confirm what experience told him was true.

Drakonll showed no concern for the scraping in the ceiling above him, his focus was sharply on finding out whatever was on that black box that made the black haired woman choose to blast the derelict ship apart rather than give it up.

"Choose, and quickly. I am not in the habit of waiting when there are powerful beings seeking to kill us."

 

[Ellia "El" Arroh]

This wasn't making any sense... Someone had tried to hack into the passenger manifest and cheat the system. That had to be it? What else could it be? If not, this was something the CorSec agent couldn't even comprehend. Or maybe didn't want to comprehend.

When Korran shot her down, El looked at him like he was insane. So did most of the recovery crew. To trust a Sith... That was as close to madness as anything was on here. This new Darth Vader could have every intention of double-crossing them or leading them all into a trap. The first thing you were taught in school was your ABCs, but the second thing was never to trust anyone with a red lightsaber. And yet... as the man in black talked, El had to admit it half made sense. And the woman hated every bit of it.

She had assumed if they had blown the section of the ship these... things... were in, they would suffocate in space and die. But maybe they were droids or weren't organic. Who knows at this point. All she knew was it was better following Korran's lead than acting out. As he led on with the conversation, though, the Jedi would hear El mutter to herself. "The Jedi owes me a drink for putting up with this nerf dung..." She was used to catching all of the waste of society before emptying it into prison or the morgue, trying to patch the leak up before beginning all over again. Now this... this was a mess she couldn't even dream of how to begin to fix. Guess that's why the compassionate Jedi was here to teach her.

Korran Sha Drakonll

 

[Protectorate Stories]

The Scream Between Stars

DM Post | Something Answers

Ellia "El" Arroh | Korran Sha | Drakonll

The relief freighter's weapons fire struck the passenger transport's aft section in a succession of violent impacts, sending vibrations through the vessel's internal framework. Emergency lighting flickered as the ship's automated systems registered the damage, and compartmentalization warnings appeared along the corridor terminals. Reinforced bulkheads kept the affected sections separated from the primary passenger decks, but the security network immediately began reporting structural damage and localized pressure fluctuations.

Whatever the weapons had struck, the bombardment produced no corresponding life signs or recognizable movement on the transport's internal sensors. Instead, the system registered a peculiar discrepancy. Several compartments that had previously reported themselves empty now displayed occupied status, despite the absence of any detectable biological signatures. The passenger manifest continued updating, adding unidentified entries faster than the system could assign accommodations.

The scraping above the investigators stopped during the bombardment, but it didn't stay silent for long. A heavy impact sounded somewhere in the maintenance passages, followed by the unmistakable sound of something dragging across the ventilation shaft's interior. The sound traveled away from their position, moving through the overhead conduits before abruptly stopping. A nearby maintenance panel bowed outward for a fraction of a second, its fastening bolts straining against an unseen pressure, then settled back into place without opening.

At the same moment, the flight recorder emitted a brief electronic tone. Its playback indicator lit up without any apparent command, and a new fragment of corrupted audio emerged through the speaker. The captain's voice was recognizable beneath the interference, although the recording had deteriorated considerably.

"Keep everyone away from the observation decks. It knows when we're looking."

The transmission dissolved into static, then fell silent for several seconds. Then another sound emerged, faint and almost conversational, as though someone were attempting to speak from an impossible distance. The words remained indistinct, and the recording terminated before they could be understood.

Korben Aej | R'ayne Asara

The passenger lounge trembled beneath the distant weapons impacts, its overhead fixtures rattling as the transport's emergency systems struggled to compensate for the sudden damage. Several ceiling panels shifted in their housings, releasing fine dust into the already stale air. The terminal that had previously displayed the medical quarantine warning flickered between its ordinary directory and a series of emergency notifications, reporting damage to the aft compartments and advising passengers to remain within designated safe areas.

The route toward the administrative section remained accessible, although the ship's automated guidance system had begun displaying contradictory directions. One indicator pointed toward the central passenger decks, while another directed occupants toward the medical facilities. Both claimed to identify the nearest emergency assembly point, even though they led in entirely different directions.

Then the tapping returned, considerably closer than before. Three measured impacts sounded from within the wall beside the lounge entrance, followed by a pause and another three. A second sequence answered from somewhere farther along the corridor, but this time the rhythm was imperfect. The final impact came several seconds late, accompanied by a faint scraping noise that continued after the tapping had ceased.

A nearby wall-mounted communications panel lit up; its speaker emitted a brief burst of interference before a recorded announcement began. The voice was the same pleasant, carefully modulated female voice that had previously instructed passengers to return to their accommodations, though irregular pauses distorted its words.

"Attention, passengers. Please remain calm. Security personnel are responding to the disturbance. Do not attempt to assist anyone requesting entry to your compartment unless their identity has been verified."

The announcement ended abruptly, leaving the panel illuminated. Beneath the speaker, the emergency call indicator began blinking, registering an incoming request from a passenger cabin several decks away. The caller's identification field showed no name, only a cabin designation and a status report indicating the compartment had been vacant since the start of the voyage.

Judah Dashiell | Iandre Athlea | Jayna Ismet-Thio

The passenger administration terminal continued to display contradictory occupancy records, but new information from the transport's security network introduced another irregularity. Several recently generated passenger entries now contained timestamps matching the investigators' arrival, while others appeared to have been created before the vessel disappeared. The system offered no explanation for the discrepancy, and attempts to reconcile the records produced only an automated notification that the manifest remained accurate.

The Challenger's independent sensors continued operating normally, but the repeated telemetry Jayna had identified became increasingly conspicuous. Certain environmental readings remained identical across multiple transmissions, including temperature fluctuations and atmospheric pressure values that should ordinarily have varied at least slightly. The transport appeared to transmit previously recorded information rather than its current condition, though the exact extent of the discrepancy remained unclear.

When the relief freighter's weapons struck the transport's aft section, the resulting vibrations traveled through the docking connection. The Challenger's instruments registered the impacts immediately, while the passenger transport's emergency systems began broadcasting structural warnings across its internal network. Despite the damage, the docking collar remained secured, and the passage connecting the two vessels continued maintaining atmospheric pressure.

For several seconds, the transport's distress signal disappeared entirely. When it returned, the familiar Mon Calamari blink code had been replaced by a new sequence.

DO NOT LEAVE.

The message repeated twice before the original distress call resumed.

---

Throughout the passenger transport, the emergency lighting briefly dimmed as the vessel's damaged systems redistributed power. The disturbance passed through the corridors in sequence, leaving each compartment dark for several seconds before the lights returned.

Deep within the ship, an observation window overlooking the surrounding stars developed a thin fracture across its interior surface. The transparisteel remained intact, and no pressure loss was detected, but the fracture slowly extended several centimeters before stopping.

Then, from somewhere beyond the window, came a sound that should not have been possible in the vacuum of space. Three deliberate taps. A pause. And three more.

 

[Drakonll]

Korran Sha He is here.
Ellia "El" Arroh "You hit my battleship!"
Protectorate Stories

The entire derelict ship shook with the force from the blasts of Ellia's Freighter. Drakonll had to widen his stance and hold himself sturdy through the Force to avoid being knocked over, metal screeched and the damage could be heard from all over the ship.

Several of the Relief Crew fell to the ground, while others braced as best they could. All of them failing to keep their weapons trained on Drakonll.

But Drakonll paid them little heed as the emergency warnings blared and the normal lighting began to fail. A loud bang and scrape sounded above them, moving away from the group. A panel away from and above them bulged as if a great weight was pressed against it.

Drakonll was aware something was pushing it. But he had his eyes on Ellia, who had just ordered her Freighter to open fire and destroy segments of the ship.

Whatever evidence that may have existed back there had just been destroyed or tampered beyond use. Drakonll glared at the woman who had just possibly destroyed any of the evidence he needed. Severely diminishing the chance to investigate whether this ship and the anomalies that took over it were involved with his own Fleet's time warp, or his. Or even entities that caused it.

They were all bathed in red light as the emergency lighting came on and the normal lighting died.

Drakonll activated his internal night vision through his helmet, he could feel just fine through the Force and sense each person here.... but whatever stalked this ship couldn't be felt through it. His helmet had an extra little benefit for doing this, it made his eyes red. An effect that he found made many sentients uncomfortable in the dark.

The red lighting then failed and the hallway became dark. Only showing Drakonll's eyes as he glared at them. Especially Ellia.

"I will deal with you in a moment." He stated coldly and then looked up, his voice louder as if challenging someone. "Come on out. The fire is warm."

His gauntlets lit aflame, his fury increased the flames heat until it covered his entire arm with intense orange flames. He strode past through the group down the middle of the corridor, following where the crash and dragging sound had moved away from them. He stood near where the maintenance panel had bulged and buckled, then raised both arms towards it. The fire dampened just a little as he aggressively grabbed the metal hatch with the Force, it's frame and all the metal wall next to it screeched and was violently ripped out and sent clanging down the corridor.

The mass of metal clanged and scraped away from the group, not harming them. Even though he had thought of sending it their way.


Whatever was or had been there was more exposed but still in the dark. Drakonll increased the flames on his arms, ready to burn anything to Dark Side tainted ash.

 

[Korran Sha]

Objective I: The Silent Vessel
Tags: Drakonll | Ellia "El" Arroh
The first impact nearly knocked Korran from his feet.

He caught himself against the corridor wall, one hand striking the cold metal hard enough to send a brief sting through his palm. The transport shuddered around them, the violence of the bombardment traveling through its framework in a series of groans and shrieks that seemed to come from every direction at once. Somewhere behind them, the relief crew struggled to maintain their footing, and the sudden chorus of alarms drowned out whatever Korran might have said.

For a moment, he could only stand there and listen to the ship suffer.

Then the emergency lighting came on, washing the corridor in a deep, bloody red.

Korran turned toward Ellia, his expression tightening beneath his blindfold. He understood the desire to escape. He understood the instinct to destroy whatever threatened them before it had the opportunity to strike. But the ship was still standing, the corridors still connected, and there remained the possibility that someone might have survived somewhere beyond their immediate reach. They had just made the prospect of finding those people considerably more complicated.

He drew breath to speak, but the sound above them stopped him.

Something dragged itself through the maintenance passages, its movement heavy enough to make the metal overhead complain. Korran tilted his head, trying to follow its progress through the deck and walls. When the panel buckled outward, his entire body went rigid.

He reached through the Force.

Nothing.

Not an absence of life in the ordinary sense, nor the quiet impression of an empty room. He could feel the people gathered around him, their fear and confusion flickering at the edges of his awareness. He could feel the machinery straining beneath the damage. He could even feel the terrible intensity of the armored stranger standing nearby, his anger burning through the Force with an almost oppressive clarity.

But whatever had moved through the ceiling remained beyond his perception.

The realization unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. His awareness had always been the means by which he understood the world, the closest thing he had to sight. Now there was something moving only meters away, something capable of bending the metal above their heads, and his instincts offered him nothing with which to comprehend it.

Then Drakonll tore the maintenance panel from the wall.

The shriek of tortured metal made Korran recoil, one arm lifting instinctively before the dislodged hatch crashed farther down the corridor. He turned toward the opening, his attention straining to make sense of the space beyond it. His senses found distorted impressions of machinery, conduits, and the lingering vibrations of whatever had passed through them.

Nothing that explained the movement.

Nothing that explained the absence.

Drakonll's flames cast a harsh, shifting light across the exposed passage, but Korran found himself reluctant to concentrate on the opening alone. The warning from the flight recorder returned to him with renewed clarity.

Don't look at the windows. Whatever you do, don't look at the windows.

The captain had sounded terrified. The manifest had continued adding passengers who had never boarded. The thing above them had moved without leaving any trace he could interpret through the Force. And now the armored stranger, whose presence had already unsettled him, was preparing to confront whatever lay beyond the panel as though he had encountered such horrors before.

Korran swallowed.

"Wait," he called, stepping forward just enough to make himself heard without approaching the exposed passage. "We don't know what that thing is, or whether it wants us to follow it."

He could hardly believe he was offering caution to someone whose arms were engulfed in flame, but the alternative seemed worse. Drakonll had made it clear that he knew something about the threat, and Korran was beginning to suspect that his experience might be the only advantage they had.

He turned his attention toward the armored figure, keeping a wary distance between them.

"You said you recognized what the crew encountered. Have you seen something like this before?"

The question was urgent, but beneath it lay something more personal. Korran needed to understand why the stranger's presence felt so profoundly different from anything he had known, and why the thing they were hunting remained invisible to his senses.

Another metallic groan sounded from somewhere beyond the torn-open passage.

Korran fell silent, his head turning toward it.

He could not see what waited in the darkness. He could not feel it through the Force. And for the first time since boarding the transport, he found himself wondering whether his inability to perceive something meant it was truly absent, or whether he had simply never learned how to recognize it.

His hands curled into fists at his sides.

Whatever happened next, he would not let his fear make the decision for him. But he would be a fool to mistake courage for understanding, and this ship had already given him ample reason to fear how little he understood.

​