ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
Katja Javik
They were indeed far from where they were supposed to be, but not
too far, so she remained silent on the matter. They were as-yet in no danger of missing their objective. Unlike the SCAR operative, she had been subjected to
several analog periods at different points in her life, firstly by a cruel hand that had essentially thrown her ‘off the deep end’ during her childhood, then years later within her training as an Imperial Knight - the Knights were meant to be exceedingly adaptable, the ideal result of significant investment. But even without that specific intent being hammered into her by her handlers and late mentor, she would likely still have the force-borne ability to find her way around
any location, an
excellent sense of direction... and the discipline to set it mostly aside and let the Hapan take the reins to see how she managed. Ostensibly to know her better.
Regardless, this
was a nice place.
“It’s very… open,” she said, both agreeing and not agreeing, letting out a deep breath she’d taken in, along with her response. In some ways the openness was good, in other ways it could be a problem... if they were somewhere else, but the relative peace and quiet was nearly
alien. Vaguely disconcerting. She was used to the ever-present din of the city life of Ravelin, or the hum of the Star Dreadnought they both lived on at present, or the chaos of the battlefield. She looked up to the sky where stars slowly appeared as darkness progressively fell over the land, while the other woman gathered sticks. For a brief moment or two, Aerin admired the view above that was making itself known before her mind switched over to considerations of
celestial navigation and
astrogation. Domains of travelling upon seas, and in skies and space. Her mind was always
on.
That is, until the blonde dropped the gathered sticks in a disjointed pile, the noise and the query snapping the meandering of the Knight’s thoughts. Her chin lowered and she turned her head slightly, flicking a look at Javik that said the medic had the
entire measure of her attention for that fleeting moment… then she glanced down at the pile of sticks. She turned fully to face the other, her arms folded.
“Friction would work,” she replied, but then recanted that after a couple seconds,
“but friction will take too long.” They would need light and warmth quite soon. Siyn went to the fallen tree, slipped her pack off and set it on the great log, then took the handful of steps to the pile of sticks, crouched, and began stripping the leaves that clung to a few branches for tinder. She set the leaves in a little pile with some of the thinnest twigs, then glanced up at Javik, her hand hovering over over the small pile.
“It should only take a small electrical spark, but I suggest you back up a bit, in case,” she informed.
She wasn’t taking any chances. Once there was enough distance, Siyn projected a spark, a rather small tendril of electricity at the dry leaves, and small licks of fire sprung nigh-immediately. She watched the fire take hold, prodding it with one of the more sturdy sticks, tending to it.
“What do you think of…” She lifted her gaze after a handful of moments, looking up at Katja again from her crouch, then she indicated the sky with the stick in her hand,
“...when you look up in a place like this?”
Most others didn't think the way she did, or anywhere near to that extent.
