Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Zareca String - An Errant Venture

Things were finally starting to feel a bit more normal. There was family flying aboard Oasis again. Having Althea Becket aboard made a world of difference towards making Oasis feel like home. The crew was expanding. She'd yet to come up with an adequate (and far less off-putting to the droid) nickname for BB-4001X, but all good things came in time. They'd even picked up a curious, young fighter pilot by the name of Jerek Zenduu Jerek Zenduu . The teenager spent a lot of time in the garden for some reason. But seeing the extra face around the ship just helped fill up the space that much more.

And slowly but surely, the jobs were coming in. So the Oswaft immigration didn't pay all that well. They got to use some cool tech, have a neat adventure, interact with an awesome, rare, sentient species, see the pretty sights, and get their tank filled. They got to keep some pretty, space rocks from the nebula. Worthless on the market, but a nice souvenir for a job well done. Moving those farm animals paid a little bit on both ends. The smell had juuust finally started to come out of the hangar bays, much to everyone's satisfaction.

Not everything was as good as could be. Nova was still heart-broken about her parents. She was slowly coming to terms with the loss. At least she was dealing with the situation rather than just neglecting it like she had before. But then, she was pretty sure she would never really get over not having Mom and Dad around.

But if there was one thing that Nova was good at, that was focusing on the positive and keeping herself busy. Which meant keeping her crew busy. Which meant finding jobs.

There were still a few things that Nova was avoiding. Like using her parent's old contacts to pick up work. She wanted to prove to herself that she could handle the captain job. If all she did was rely on what her parents had achieved, was she really proving anything other than she was the daughter of Sola Casamyr? Nova certainly didn't think so. She was an independent captain of a non-affiliated freighter. Doing the job herself was the only way forward.

That was simpler to say than it was to put into practice. Finding contacts for jobs was way more complicated than Nova could have anticipated. She might be an experienced spacer but she was not an experienced captain. Nova had to rely on her crewing days to drum up potential employers. After reaching out to one former crewmate after another, there was finally a positive response.

~~Hey Nova. Long time no see. Congratulations on your new gig. Small galaxy. I got my own ship a few years back myself!
I've been pretty stacked with work over the past few months and I've had to pass up a few things. I know how hard it can be starting out so here's one I can pass along:
Look up Buirkenna Shipping Ltd. on the HoloNet. They came to me but the job is just too far out there. A few others have passed on it too.
Should be an adventure. Your kinda thing.
Best of luck,
Tess Vinmi~~

So Nova looked up the tip. And the job offer came straight away. Dropping Tess' name in her inquest must have really paid off!

~~Captain Casamyr,
Thank you for your inquiry. We are, in fact, looking to hire a ship. We would send our own, but all of our primaries are currently engaged in other endeavors.
Two weeks ago, we sent a ship from the currently neutral world of Dressel to Rishi, intent on delivering supplies across the Zareca String to the Rishi Maze.
We received word that they reached Rishi without incident. CIS patrols around Rishi confirm that the vessel departed for the String. But they won't comment further since the Confederacy closed their border.
The government has approved a single vessel passage through the border to investigate.
If you're interested in the job, your instructions are as follows:
Determine the status of the
Wayward Chance.
If the ship can be redirected, send it on its way. Repair the vessel if necessary.
If irreparable, recover any extant crew and cargo and complete the operation. The ship can be considered legitimate salvage, take anything useful to you and do with as you please.
Time is not a concern. Discretion and efficiency are.
Send confirmation of acceptance should you choose to take this offer.
Chief Administrative Officer Wret Boora~~

Nova was on the horn immediately to take the job. A few days later, Oasis crossed through CIS space with the proper authentications and proceeded to Rishi.
 
The leaves of the foliage around him were a blanket he wrapped himself inside, cocooned within its serenity. He was not unaware of the gentle hum of the ship's engines, or the brightly artificial lights mounted above the garden alcove, he simply chose not to recognize them at the moment. The smell of the greenery took the boy back in years, his closed eyes to allow himself to focus on the scent, letting it take him to a time when the galaxy had seemed simpler. The pastoral memories of his boyhood years before the Jedi were lost to time now, but they thrived in the elements that surrounded his youthful memories of Ossus. An idyllic Ossus of forests and wildlife, a youth of friends and learning what it meant to be a Jedi.

Jerek breathed in the reminder the scent invoked, grateful for its presence here as he sat cross-legged among the greenery. He could feel another presence, a pattern the Living Force outlined among the flora rooted in this garden space. It was dormant, though he might not have engaged it otherwise. The galaxy was full of life that sometimes needed only to be left about its affairs in order to bloom and flourish. In whatever capacity the unfamiliar being served there, its presence was a calming model for him. Another reminder of his purpose here.

A purpose that the Force had still not made clear to him.

The Jedi youth had long resisted its pull throughout his time as an apprentice. He would heed the words of his training masters, finding it easy to commune with the Force and let it help him in the midst of strife or conflict. That usually took the form of the variety of Force-assisted abilities the Jedi were known for, at which Jerek was happy to excell. When it came to plans and purpose, however, the teen insisted reliance upon his own logic and canniness. It had served him so well thus far, he had little reason not to trust it.

Yet logic and knowledge were wasted in the face of loss and grief. With mourning already past, Jerek had nonetheless faced some difficult truths in that time. His skills, his intuition, his resourcefullness were not enough in the face of an entire galaxy. Yet there existed a power enough in the face of a galaxy, an energy that bound everything within it. The Jedi relied upon it to be who they were, to answer their calling. Well, Jerek had been ignoring the Force's calling for far too long.

He didn't know why it had brought him to this starship or its motley crew. Jerek's own pride would have dismissed the idea, he had the use of transportation he owned or could loan. For now, his J-2 sat unattended in the ship's garage bay. Nothing had told him to bring it along, but it hadn't felt right to leave it. The Jedi teen was not yet willing to let go of every anchor point he had yet.

Convincing the starship's captain, a woman with questionable business sense who kept the company of more droids than people, of the necessity in hosting his starfighter took more credits than he had expected to part with, she only stood down from her steep pricing after one of her astromechs got a look at the Flashdance in person. That seemed to have broken barriers for his arrival, allowing Jerek to settle into a comfortable routine aboard ship. It was only when he felt wayward or ungrounded that he found himself in the ship's garden, taking time to revel in the small volume of connection it afforded him on a ship that otherwise felt rather mechanical.

Time he often spent searching for answers in the Force more than he let it offer them up. Under a furrowed brow, his tightly-shut eyes rolled behind their lids as he gave his head a slight toss. The physical movement brought him to the surface, affording him a chance to rediscover the reminder with the pull of one breath of the scented air. The breath moved through him, awakening the memory of a carefree youth spent in discovery and wonderment of all that there was to learn. That was the approach he needed a return to in the face of the Force. Not to forget the lessons of the past several years, exactly, just to put them aside as unhelpful habits for the moment. With another deep breath, Jerek let himself sink back into meditation once more.

Only a few minutes later, the Jedi rose from his fitful meditation, flustered by his own shortcomings. The Force had always been his ally, but now it seemed a meek friend, absent and unwilling in his efforts to engage. His chest fluttered as a wistful sigh escaped his lips, closing them as he considered the presence in the garden's planting bed. "I suppose it's easier for you," Jerek told the plant-being, "When you need an answer, it just gets poured all over you. I'm still trying to find a mere trickle."

Then the teen shook his head, feeling suddenly silly at the notion of talking to a plant. Unable to find the focus he needed, Jerek stepped back out from the garden's shelter, heading for the galley on the level below. He had spied a fizz-something at the back of the cooling unit, and his mouth suddenly itched for the bubbly comfort of his favorite cola.

It might not have the answers the Force was withholding, but at least Fizzyglug was willing company on a journal to the edge of the galaxy.

 

BB-4001A

Guest
B
There were billions of stars in the galaxy.

And there was also a billion lightyears of just nothing that stretched between them. But, even if you mapped out all of the stars and the lightyears between them, the universe wasn't a static object. Stellar formations moved, the galactic disk rotated, and shifts in orbit opened new space lanes and rendered others unsafe for travel. It was a herculean task to try and stay updated on the current navigation patterns, but there seemed no better time than the present.

So, the small droid was working inside the ship's main computer library. Verifying that the navicomputer had an uplink to the HoloNet and had updated to the most current pattern. It was tedious work, but as a droid that was hardly a problem. It helped that BB didn't rest, and had ample battery life as he began the work of verifying the updates. In the downtime between updates, he performed a diagnostic check of the navi-computer. It was the quintessential component of the ship. A fault in that system had catastrophic consequences for everyone on board, organic or not.

Shuffling a stack of datacards, the droid was satisfied that the end result of full planetary rotation's worth of effort had resulted in nominal ratings on all benchmark performance tests. The onboard maps were verified against the Confederate Hyperlane and Transportation Ministry HoloNet site.

In the distant past, the Bureau of Starships would have been responsible for ensuring access to safe astrogation data. In the absence of a central governmental authority, the information required to traverse the unknown reaches was often in the hands of proprietary, regional governments. A few corporate entities or university-affiliated non-profits would, occasionally, provide a temporary measure. But, as with all things in the current galactic era, such were often short lived. The Levantine Astronautical Academy was, perhaps, the last of such charitable efforts writ large.

Emerging from out of closet-like library, the afro-headed simulacrum turned and started his way through the ship. The datacards in hand would supply Nova Casamyr Nova Casamyr with an adequate status of the ship's navigation systems. Given their increasing proximity to the Rishi Maze, this information would no doubt help to ease any anxieties that their captain might have harbored at the prospect of their navigating the Zareca String.

As movement registered on his visual-auditory receptors, the small droid looked up time to see a lanky human male making his way into the galley. In addition to himself, there were two other crew aboard. Both capable pilots. That much was agreeable, as it allowed the droid to take a step back from co-pilot or astrogation responsibilities and focus on his primary directive as a maintenance droid.

Pausing in the doorway, the droid looked over at Jerek Zenduu Jerek Zenduu to ask, "Can I help you find anything?"

The BB-4001X was not very familiar with the reasons why organics frequented the galley. He could assemble a meal from rote replication of a recipe's instruction, but both form and function of such foodstuff were foreign to his processors.

Still, it seemed polite to acknowledge the organic and ask the question, before continuing on to provide the stellar diagnostic data to Captain Casamyr.
 

Althea Becket

Guest
A
It was mighty nice to be flyin' again.

Even if her own ship, the Stargazer, sat grounded back home. Sad as it was, the poor gal (the ship, of course), wasn't fit to fly these days. And as for Thea, she'd had doubts about her own ability, too. She'd spent the last few years planetside on Taanab, helping 'round the family's homestead. It was the first time since she felt good about walking away and leaving the Becket boys in charge.

It felt odd, knowing her father and brothers would be living there without Mama. The job of fussing had fallen to Thea when she was home. She did the washing, she did the cooking, she tended to the injuries, and she did the worrying. But Papa had assured her that they'd do just fine. It was time to 'get on with life.'

It had sure been nice to catch up with Nova. Thea had welcomed her cousin back to the farm with open arms. The two of them always had a good relationship. So, Thea had been more than happy to accompany her cousin—Captain Casamyr—on this journey. This would give her a chance to earn back her spacer-legs and get re-accustomed to flyn' and workin'.

At the moment, she'd posted up in the galley. Thea didn't know the other crew members all that well, and thought, perhaps, this would be a good introduction. After all, who didn't like food? Ah, well... maybe the droids. Thea's arm was getting a good workout stirring up a thick batter in a big bowl that she set on her hip. It was one of the few things that she'd brought from home. She could cook for an army, and her brothers had the appetites of hundred men. And as she set the first of the oatcakes onto the hot skillet, she realized that she might have gone overboard this time.

She turned, a young man entered— followed shortly by a droid in the doorway.

“Oh, hi,” Thea said, smiling. “Y'all hungry?”

She hoped they'd say yes... at least one of them.

BB-4001X, Jerek Zenduu Jerek Zenduu , Nova Casamyr Nova Casamyr
Sorry for the delay, meant to post this yesterday. Hope it works I have Thea already in the kitchen!
 
"Alright, Blind. Timer's on. Send a bleep three minutes before reversion to realspace."

SswEoo.​

Nova nodded to the eyeless, but not senseless R8 unit, acknowledging the droid's affirmative. He rolled over to her from another station and plugged in as she made to stand. Reeve's dome spun to face Nova, one arm extended and connected to the console. Another arm popped out of his casing and threw her a mock salute. The R3 had always done that with her Mom. Now that salute was reserved for the new Captain Casamyr. As Nova stood from the pilot console, Fifi did her best impression of a human passing gas. Nova rolled her eyes as Fifi chortled away, delighted by her own vulgarity.

Outside the viewport, the stars made bright lines, filling the bridge with light, allowing Nova to forget the vast darkness filling everything in.

The doors to the bridge slid open and Nova sagged backwards against them for a moment. This is it, she thought to herself. The first big paying job. Don't kark it up. The woman moved over to the captain's cabin. The door slid open and she stood in the doorframe, glancing around the room. It still didn't feel like hers. So the compartment had been made up into something of an office or a ready room. There was still a significant rack of jackets and another of boots and various footwear, but the pile of clothing had been removed and brought back to her personal cabin. The bunk had been folded up and bolted to the wall and a small, circular table with just enough room for four chairs circled around. A desk and a few cabinets were the only other furniture there. The room still felt empty, unfillably so. Since the clothes had been removed, Nova avoided the space as much as possible. She sighed and turned away, the door sliding quietly shut behind her.

The smell of Thea's cooking filled the compartment and Nova's nostrils as she walked up the stairs towards the galley. Nova knew that smell, there was no mistaking it. Only her little cousin would be making oatcakes right before a mission. No. Stop that, Nova kicked herself mentally. She's not a little girl anymore. Thea is a woman now. And a member of your crew. Treat her that way. "I am! Nova shouted from the stairs, just barely hearing Althea's question from down the hall. Despite the many sectioned-off compartments on the ship, the designers had curiously left the path from the stairs down to the command deck all the way back to the workshop without a break. Nova wondered if the initial design had been to stir hunger among the crew, at the slightest hint of cooking. If that was the case, the design worked like a charm.

Though Nova wasn't all that hungry this time. The winged-stars in her stomach completely squelched her appetite. But Nova knew she needed to eat. And she would never be rude to someone who had cooked her a meal, certainly never Thea. "Fix me up a plate," she said as she drew closer. BB and their other new passenger Jerek were also there, just outside the galley. Her nerves would certainly never stop Nova from being social, that was for sure. "Everybody's here. Great! Jerek, you've never had oatcakes til you've had Thea's, I can promise you that. Old family recipe. And you know, BB, I could probably scrounge up the parts to give you proper taste receptors if you ever wanted to try food. There really is nothing else quite like it."

Nova leaned up against the wall, hands tucked to the knuckles into her gray-green, mechanic's jumpsuit pockets. The crew lounge was tucked off behind a door and she wanted to be with her crew now as Thea finished cooking. Somehow, the nervousness started to fade as she surrounded herself with her companions.

 
It was clear that, in some past life, the Oasis had been a very different ship. Not only the size of it, but the amenities installed also told the story of a vessel fueled by excess. Gaming tables, places to lounge, even a pool and garden, comprised the whole upper deck that seemed to go largely unused now. Storage supplanted recreation now, leaving only the ghostly echoes of the past behind. Custom craftsmanship along the wall paneling now obscured by cargo crates, the stained carpet from a spilled drink poking out from under a rusted droid corral, the bar counter stocked full of unrelated trinkets. The Jedi youth could feel the history as if it was tangible, as if the room itself could project its grief. A ridiculous notion on most accounts, but he was loathe to dismiss any message the Force could provide right now.

Still, Jerek kept a mild hope alive that he wasn't about to turn into one of those mystics who took every errant feeling as something significant. The longing he felt could just as well be his own hunger.

It was no small wonder that he felt such cravings as the smell reaching his nose, just before the teen boy descended the stairs between decks. Somebody was cooking in the galley, and it was a true wonder that the whole ship didn't smell of the fried creation. The buttery odor of heaven grew stronger still until Jerek reached the bottom of the steps, to spy the other woman on the ship standing over the stove and the diminutive form of the final ship's resident exiting a small room nearby. Althea and BB, he recalled. It wasn't hard to keep track on such a small crew. He only found it troublesome with the trio of astromech droids, whose personalities were bewildering to him. Allya would like them, though, the teen thought with a momentary pang at the absence from her presence.

Then again, it was possible that those pangs were just hunger, too.

As he drew closer, the Jedi youth could see just what was cooking on the skillet in front of Althea. Some kind of batter being fried into a cake, smelling distinctly like breakfast. Jerek inhaled, his eyes half-closed in appreciation of the divine odor, before a comment from the droid-boy knocked him out of his reverie. The teen blinked, his eyes settling on BB as they focused. A Human Replica Droid in the form of a kid was generally unusual, one with such a distinctive appearance was sure to be unique. Dark skin, giant hair, and eyes that felt far too uncanny for the rest of him. His looks belied the fact that Jerek could sense nothing from BB, however, beyond the fact that the HRD existed in a physical space.

He could manage regular droids just fine, they were simple to understand. Lines of code embedded in circuitry and mechanics within a metal shell. A programmed automaton, capable of serving out a needed function. That was simple. A droid programmed to be Human, though, capable of motivations and thoughts like an organic but unconnected to the Force? It spooked Jerek more than his difficulty with meditations lately.

He tried his best not to let it show, "I was just coming to find something to drink." Jerek glanced toward Althea, giving her a smile, "I didn't expect to find a whole gourmet meal being prepared."

It was then that the ship's captain, Nova, made her appearance known quite vocally. Her presence completed the crew complement as he considered it, though Jerek found himself falling into more of a diplomatic protocol as she drew near. His smile became the calm demeanor he had seen Master Veiere put on so many times, and his hands clasped in front of him. Nova delivered him the name of the food being prepared at last, oatcakes, and the bottom of his stomach issued its list of demands so loudly even he could not ignore it. Jerek felt a grin bubbling over his lips, letting out a small chuckle before he said, "Well, I guess I have no choice now. I'll have to try them."

Finally recalling what he came down to get, the teen headed for the conservator set into the cabinets of the galley, leaning over to sort through its contents until he pulled out a bottle. It was not exactly what Jerek had remembered seeing, Fizzpop was one of those off-brand versions of the Fizzyglug he preferred. There was no need for him to be ungrateful, however, the teen thought as he took up a spot out of the way in case Althea need more room. The Jedi was a guest aboard the ship, it was a blessing they had some soda to begin with. It wasn't diet and it wasn't Fizzyglug, but at least it wasn't Phizz.

Perhaps that was a sign from the Force after all.

 

BB-4001A

Guest
B
It seemed that the kitchen was where all of the organics were going to congregate.

He supposed that the droid corral performed a similar function, except that droids did not impart the same social connotation as the ship's galley seemed to convey to the ship's crew. Beyond the functionality, this location seemed a lounge of sorts.

As though testing that hypothesis, the group was joined by the last remaining organic who had been absent from the collective. In addition to referencing something known as an oatcake for Jerek, Nova tacked on a remark about providing BB with taste receptors.

The droid's exterior betrayed no reaction, but internally his processors were reeling at the thought of what a terrible waste of resources that would be. His human simulacrum was only skin deep. Beneath the layers of synthskin, rybocourse fiber, and gel-foam faux fat padding was a carbon fiber skeleton and mechanical components.

"That will not be necessary," the droid answered evenly, before taking a step forward to offer the datapad that he was carrying out for Nova to inspect.

"I have the results of the latest navi-computer diagnostic," the droid noted simply. "I anticipate no anomalies in navigating the Zareca String."

At least with regard to the navi-computer. Whether the oatcakes would be of satisfaction to the organics was purely a matter under their purview.

Fascinating how the non-functional details were often the ones that organics seemed to fixate upon the most. For example, taste and texture seemed to matter more than the nutritional value of the food that they consumed, even though the end result was the same.

 

Althea Becket

Guest
A
Thea giggled when Jerek mentioned a gourmet meal, and she might have blushed a little, too. Gourmet. Well, golly... she'd never received such a compliment. She'd stack Jerek's plate extra high with oatcakes. And the droid, BB, he was a curiosity to Thea. Sure, she'd been around droids before, but never one so lifelike. Surely she'd forget many times he was not a little boy... but she'd try to remember.

An even bigger grin formed on Thea's face when she heard Nova shout from the stairs.

“You got it!” she said, momentarily returning her focus to cooking. She didn't want to burn anything today. As an oatcake sizzled away in the frying pan, she gave it a good flipping. The cakes were fluffy in the middle and toasty brown on the outside, just perfect if she did say so herself.

She maneuvered to the table with plates, butter, and syrup (from Taanab) balancing on her palms and the crooks of her arm. “Nova, here ya go... and Jerek—eat up, now. And some for me,” she murmured as she set plates down. Thea was a little surprised that BB would turn down Nova's offer for taste receptors, there were a lot of wonderful tastes out there that he was missing out on. But it wasn't her business, so she stayed quiet.

Thea slathered a healthy heaping of butter on her cakes and followed it by drizzling syrup on top, letting the golden liquid run over the sides of her stack.

BB-4001X, Nova Casamyr Nova Casamyr , Jerek Zenduu Jerek Zenduu
 
"Thanks, BB," Nova said, accepting the offered datapad as the group shifted from the galley into the lounge compartment set off from the cooking equipment. As an organic, she couldn't help but be pulled by the smell of fried batter, butter, and syrup. Carbs, fat, and sugar: the three main food groups. There was no going wrong. As soon as the food hit the table, there was no stopping Nova. Whatever twists and turns her stomach had been doing before as a result of her anxiety were gone. Maybe the thanks was to the company, many the thanks was to the food, but most likely it was both. The table jutted out from the fore-side wall and there was just enough room for five seats around the table. As a gut reaction, Nova chose her childhood place, on the starboard-side next to the head of the table.

The new Captain looked over the navigational data while she started into the oatcakes with fork and gusto. "This is great, BB! Since our heading is between the galaxy proper and the Rishi Maze, we'll definitely need as much up-to-date data as possible. There's a lot of empty space out there. Wouldn't do to waste a heap of time jumping to coordinates that don't exist anymore thanks to galactic drift." Some butter/syrup mixture dribbled down the side of her chin as she spoke and she caught herself just in time before the dribble became a drop on the table. She set down the pad and kicked herself mentally again. Come on, Nova. Be professional. She cleaned her face off with a cloth napkin before starting back into her oatcakes, this time with more restrained enthusiasm.

"Since we're all here, this would be a good a time as any to review the mission specs." Nova made sure to chew and swallow before speaking this time around. "Seems straightforward enough. A ship was sent out to make a delivery to a destination within the Rishi Maze and hasn't reported. First step is finding the ship. Second step is determining the status of her crew, cargo, and viability for travel. The delivery needs to be completed regardless of those qualifications and reporting back is paramount. We're on our way now to the typical first stop along the String. Blind is flying and Reeve is manning the sensors and they'll let us know if they detect anything unusual."

Nova squirmed ever-so-slightly in her seat, doing her best to rid herself of how uncomfortable managing her family felt. How did her Mom cope with all of this pressure? The new Captain Casamyr would never know. "Once we're on, Thea, you'll take the pilot's chair. You know how Oasis flies better than the rest of us. BB, take co-pilot. You certainly have a knack for crunching the numbers and that's what'll matter most with nav. Jerek, well, I'll leave it up to you. You're welcome to assist on our job if you'd like. You'll get a cut, of course. And there's an additional station on the bridge that mans the guns and other auxiliary controls when we have the hands for it. If you're up for it that is."

 
Observing the crew going through their normal routines around him was a stark reminder of the Jedi youth's status here. He had never been in the middle of many social orbits to begin with, barring a few times he had stumbled into them, so being the outsider wasn't anything new to him. Somehow, though, this time was different. Perhaps it was his recent loss, or perhaps the fact that it was the Force guiding him here, but for the first time in a long time Jerek felt alone in the middle of others.

Was this what it meant to be a Jedi?

The teen drew in a small breath before taking a long sip of the Fizzpop. It tasted just as unfamiliar. He blew out a small huff to himself, a fickle thought of frustration once more at his repeated disappointments while meditating. If he was to find answers out here, among this motley crew aboard a ship that far outclassed their maladroit image, he only hoped they were worth the effort.

His internal chagrin was brief, however, as he let the moment pass before the oatcakes passed him by.

A table set, a crew gathered, and a steaming pile of oatcakes. No matter what perception Jerek had for himself, he was eager to enjoy this. The warm food cooled quickly under the golden mass of syrup drizzled over it, but that only enhanced the appeal of the buttery cakes. He was quick to take a fork and knife to the ensemble, and the oatcakes were just as quick to melt wonderfully inside his mouth. They tasted so magical that he couldn't help droning out a long, "Mmmmmmmmmmmm," after the first bite.

He stopped abruptly as he noticed Nova trying to get their attention to talk about the crew's current mission. Jerek continued to eat as quietly as he could, even as he listened. The information was no doubt an important clue for his own mission, even if the Jedi youth wasn't sure how it fit in yet.

The Rishi Maze. It was a seldom traversed, and even less explored, region. The kind of places that his former master Bekk might have gone to, as intent as he was to leave the galaxy's conflicts behind. Nova had been straightforward about the Oasis' destination, but not its mission. As the ship's young captain relayed the details of the crew's new mission, one that sounded similar to many of the missions Jerek had performed before himself as a pilot, he began to feel that surreal sensation settle in again. It was so easy to put himself in their shoes that it was like watching his own actions from afar, and a small shudder ran through the body of the teen.

The Jedi youth almost missed Nova directing a question at him, he was so preoccupied by his new role as an observer. A quick replay in his mind offered him the chance to put down his utensils as well. It was just as well, even if he was only halfway through the hearty food, his stomach was crying, 'full!' Not something the ever-hungry teen had expected after smelling the oatcake's aroma, but this expedition so far had been a series of unexpected events. Really, out of everything so far, Nova's request might have been the most predictable.

"I'd be happy to assist in your mission, Captain Nova," he offered genially, and the words felt more like Master Veiere's than his own. "A Jedi is always willing to lend a helping hand to those in need, and a missing ship sounds like just the kind of need."

Was that his purpose out here? To help find a missing ship and crew? If that was what the Force had guided him out here to do, Jerek had to be honest, it felt pretty theatrical. It had taken hundreds of lightyears and days of traveling to get here, surely he couldn't have been the closest Jedi available. Yet even the emptiest of platitudes about the Force's mysterious nature seemed like the only reasonable explanation for the moment. Or at least the only one that would let him move past the moment.

"I hope you're not expecting trouble to come your way," he remarked once, glancing at the rest of the crew assembled around the table. Conspicuously absent were the three astromech droids that Nova seemed to trust to run the ship normally. It seemed odd that she might prefer an organic on the weapon's console if the ship came into a combat situation, but Jerek couldn't help but think he was just making excuses at this point, struggling against the restrictions hamstringing him on this expedition.

The boy in him felt like his place during a fight was among the stars, clothed only in the thin hull of his starfighter. The Jedi in him had to respect Nova's decision as the ship's captain. There was more than his personal desire at stake right now.

Jerek nodded, a bit more gravely than he intended, so he lent his words a warm smile as well, "But if it does, you'll have my support."

 

BB-4001A

Guest
B
In the time that it took Nova to verbally relay the parameters of their job, the droid had already run a series of inquiries designed to construct the relevant probabilities that would inform a logical construct by which to achieve their stated goals.

If there was available data on the missing ship, then the sensor arrays could be programmed to better screen the ambient cosmic radiation for indications of the vessel. At the very least, rudimentary information on its precise make and model. Beyond that, past sensor data or telemetry on its engine wash would be ideal for helping to identify the possible clues of its passage.

As the crew assignments were passed out, the droid reflected upon the one that he had been given. Without knowing more about this woman named Althea, the droid was not in a position to gauge her shiphandling abilities. However, it seemed the Captain Casamyr believed they held value for this trip.

His own assignment, however, seemed a human foible. An astromech would have been the correct choice for the job. Fifi would have been his choice. With her memory configuration, she would have been able to hold six sets of coordinates, which she would then be able to adjust calculations for on the fly.

Captain Casamyr's underlying belief was not incorrect. As a computer, BB was adept at making mathematical calculations. But he lacked the specialized memory or processor capability to function as a navicomputer. Fifi was the best choice for the job of navigating the string.

Was his humanoid appearance possibly the reason why he was considered more qualified?

Whatever the case, the captain had made her decision known and the droid saw no apparent reason to disagree. Though not optimal, he was, in fact, capable of performing the requested function.

From the cockpit, he could coordinate with Fifi for the sensor modifications based on any additional information that Captain Casamyr might possess. And then have the droid perform a few other maintenance checks on the shield generators that he had intended to conduct.

A ship disappearing in this region of space had a high probability of being a mechanical fault of some kind. However, there were pirates that did venture this far toward the galaxy's edge. It would be prudent to ensure that the ship was operating at its full capabilities in case defensive measures were required.

 

Althea Becket

Guest
A
Still stuffing her face, Althea listened as Nova started to outline the mission. So, a ship had been sent out on a delivery and hadn't reported in. Thea's brows rose, silently wondering at the many possibilities. Find the ship and then find the crew, got it—she gave a small nod between bites.

Alright, so their little crew was well on their way.

Althea watched Nova and happened to notice the way she shifted in her seat. She tried to catch her cousin's eyes and offer an encouraging smile, but she didn't want to distract her from her current task.

“Oh, me?” she asked, swallowing a mouthful of oatcakes. “Sure thing.”

She blushed a little when Nova mentioned her ability to fly the Oasis. Thea felt her face growing a mite hot, and she hoped to live up to the expectations. And when she learned that BB would co-pilot, she flashed the droid-boy a little smile and waved at him as if to say 'hi, we're going to be best buddies, just you wait and see!'

Thea couldn't help but turn a curious glance in Jerek's direction. She didn't mean to stare, but she was genuinely interested in what he'd be doing. Would he join in? No pressure! Then, he accepted and Thea grinned. He was a Jedi? Ah, that's why he seemed so... different. But in a good way, of course.

“Well, this is gonna be a hoot,” Thea said, just excited to be here.

Nova Casamyr Nova Casamyr , BB-4001X, Jerek Zenduu Jerek Zenduu
 
"Our contact from Buirkenna didn't say anything about expecting opposition. But out here on the edge of nowhere, between one galaxy and another. Well, anything is possible, I suppose." Nova had been from one side of the galaxy to the other. She'd traveled the String before too, crewing for a Corellian out of Lok. But places like Zareca changed all the time. There hadn't been much resistance to their passage years before, but many things could have happened since then. Pirates could have taken residence in some planetoid flung from the galaxy by gravitational forces, floating through space without a star. New paramilitary forces could have popped up, either migrated from somewhere else or as an upstart world with the wrong kind of influence.

Certainly the powers-that-be changed hands. And while Nova rarely paid attention to the interplanetary government structures of an area, the recent Confederacy blockades were certainly a matter that required further examination for the spacer. This might be the last job she took within Confederacy space. At least until the tides of change performed their never-ending work on yet another regime and the fealty of so many worlds were thrown into uncertainty.

Assorted whistles and tweets from the lounge's entrance drew Nova's attention away from the group. All three astromechs were crowded there in anticipation. "Of course I didn't forget about you lot. Blind and Fifi, you'll be manning the sensor suite. We need our best pair of eyes scanning our surroundings for any trace of Wayward Chance along with whatever else might be out there. And Reeve, you'll be with me on the bridge. I'm gonna need you to be the relay for the suite. Any sensor readings need to be updated live directly to the map and consoles on the bridge. You'll be able to process that faster than the ship's computer and I don't want to be caught with any surprises because of lag. Sound good?"

Reeve's arm popped out of its socket and gave a salute. Blind whistled his affirmative. And Fifi, to her credit, just hmmmmed. The droids moved off to get ready for their stations chatting and tweedling amongst themselves.

Nova swirled the last bite of her oatcakes around the syrup and bantha butter. "All right then. We have," she glanced at her chrono. "Eighteen minutes before we revert to realspace. Be on the bridge in fifteen?" She wasn't used to giving orders and what she had intended to be an order sounded more like a question. She hurriedly shoved the bite into her mouth and stood from the table before she was done chewing. "See you then!" sounded more like "Ffe oo denn!" with her mouth full.

Making for her quarters, Nova got out of there as fast as she could. Her nerves had dissolved when they had first sat at the table and everything felt a little bit more like family. But they had gradually escalated as she started passing out assignments. She hadn't thought her orders out beforehand. She hadn't bothered to consider anything past her snap judgment on where they all would be best suited. She just made the calls as they fell into place in her mind and now she found herself second-guessing everything. Would Thea be more comfortable flying support in her A-Wing? Would Jerek feel more comfortable flying support? Would BB be better off on the sensors? Should the astromechs be on the bridge where they have the most experience? What the heck am I supposed to be doing in the midst of all of this?

That last thought stuck. There were no other seats in the bridge compartment. The pilot's chair and the co-pilot's chair. The other stations were all standing. And Nova was a nervous wreck. She knew she would just wind up pacing all over the place. As she waited out the fifteen minutes she had given everyone, she subconsciously practiced her pacing in her room, wearing holes in the flooring.

 
The abrupt dismissal from Nova settled sedately over the young Jedi. It seemed apt, after sharing her information and orders —including some to the trio of astromechs who made their tardy appearances— there wasn't much else to do. A thousand burning questions smoldered inside the boy's mind, yet he remained taciturn amid the conclave of crewmates. While their captain seemed a bit reluctant, she nonetheless understood and trusted her crew to perform their tasks without any misgivings. It was only proper to follow their lead here.

Jerek offered whatever help was needed to clear and clean the table of their leavings. Not only did it serve the role he'd undertaken as a guest on this vessel, but it seemed like an easy way to build a rapport with its bashful cook. It was harder for him to get a read on BB, the boy-shaped droid, Althea's motivations seemed easier to understand. He needn't even use the Force for it, the woman seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve.

His part in the clean-up was brief, leaving the Jedi youth feeling out of place once more. What did one do at a bridge station? There had been a few times he stood in on The Unyielding Faith, but his girlfriend's vessel had its own experienced crew to back him up. The boy considered his upcoming responsibilities with some trepidation, finding himself in the one place he could rely on to feel grounded.

Taking up a rag and applying a cleaner, Jerek began to address some of the scoring on the Flashdance. His J-2 starfighter hadn't seen quite as much action as his original fighter yet, but the hull already bore the telltale signs of a storied history. Caring for the vessel was an easy task. It put his body to work, freeing the obligation from his mind to occupy it for a few minutes.

There were so many unknowns for the boy right now, it was comforting just to have something familiar. Tracing the lines of blackened carbon on the composite hull, rubbing away at the violence inflicted upon it. Here there was a scratch, something Jerek would have to fill in with a healing compound later on. In this way, the young Jedi worked away the rest of the fifteen minutes Nova had allotted.

Jerek had no extra clarity or resolve once he finished with his self-appointed task, something the young Jedi found moderately disappointing as he headed to his expected position. He only swung by the galley once more to pick up the half-full bottle of Fizzpop he had started. The boy grinned to himself at the indulgence. It was a minor thing, and he even found himself enjoying the small swig he took of it before heading downstairs to the lower level.

He had only been down to the crew deck once, but it wasn't hard to locate the bridge. The pilot chairs were easy to spot, and Jerek caught himself staring longingly at them. Perhaps in the future, he would offer himself as a pilot to Nova, allowing her to free up one of her crewmates for a more suitable task if there was one. For now, the boy merely stood before the station he presumed to be the weapons and auxiliary controls the Captain had spoken of, exploring the controls as best he could while awaiting their arrival out of hyperspace.

 

BB-4001A

Guest
B
The organics organized themselves with a surfeit of time, rather than tackling the task at hand. As it seemed they were wont to do. Being that the droid had no such need or desire for down time, the afro headed simulacrum instead made his way to the bridge in order to re-acquaint himself with the navigational console.

Verifying that the navi-computer was operating on the most recent version of the star charts, the droid then went through the process of a rudimentary diagnostic of the hyperdrive. Finding no errors that were not within the standard deviation for this model, the droid was confident that the ship was prepared to make the reversion to normal space in a relatively accurate frame.

There remained a margin for error, but he estimated that to be less than a fraction of a percent. Assuming that the diagnostics aboard the ship were an accurate depiction of the material condition of those systems.

By the time that was complete, the given time was nearing expiration. So the droid was confident that Althea would take the helm of a ship that was fully prepared and capable of executing whatever course she supplied. Though, to hear Captain Casamyr tell it, it seemed as though this might be somewhat routine. Re-tracing the steps of a transport and then completing its cargo run.

Organics tended to err on the side of adventure, so the droid was certain that someone was going to find a way to make this more than what had been advertised.

 
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Althea Becket

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A
Althea had held her hand up to wave as Nova made a rather swift exit, mouth full. She made a mental note to check in with her cousin later on. Maybe she was just a little nervous. But it wasn't anything a little girl talk couldn't fix, right?

As BB departed, she'd looked to Jared with a wide-eyed look that said 'I have just the job for you.' Thankfully, the young man was more than willing to help with dishes, drying the plates off after Thea washed them. She hadn't kept him for long, and she bid him a smiling farewell and 'see you soon' as he, too, exited the galley.

Thea was left alone once more, hands on her hips.

What now? Well, she supposed the counter tops might need a quick wipe-down. So she did that. And the stove top as well. After emptying the pot of caf and cleaning that too, she glanced at the time. A jolt shot through her.

“Golly, time to go,” she said, hurrying from the room.

Back on the farm, she had a knack for getting in the zone and just putting her head down until the chores were done. Here, however, she knew she'd had to have some wits about her. This wasn't mindless work, no, sir. And Thea silently gave herself a little pep talk as she entered the bridge with barely 30 seconds to spare. Everyone else was already present, and in various states of waiting and wondering.

“Wheew,” she breathed out, and slid into the pilot's chair. “Okay, I'm ready. Y'all look ready, too.” Thea said, offering her crew mates a sunny smile.

Nova Casamyr Nova Casamyr | Jerek Zenduu Jerek Zenduu | BB-4001X
 
The short amount of time ticked by slowly as Nova kept glancing at the wall-chrono. Her nerves were out of control and she had no way to calm herself down. Her outlet for dealing with stress had always been talking. But she felt so alone. How could she talk to anyone about the position she found herself. No one else was a captain. No one else had to be responsible for the other lives on the ship. No one would be able to help her through this. And talking would only worry the others and make them doubt her abilities. Nova already doubted her own abilities enough, she didn't need to add more doubt.

The new captain would have to find another outlet and quick because without having some way to deal with her emotions, she knew she would just get worse. None of these thoughts were helping as the time ticked and ticked. And yet, she couldn't shake them from her mind. Nova tried pulling up data about the mission but couldn't focus on the scrolling words and images. Eventually, only a minute remained before her designated time to report to the bridge and she couldn't stand waiting any longer. With an unenthusiastic groan, she took a quick look in her vanity mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed out every out of place strand. At the very least she could make herself appear more confident and put-together than she was.

Nova left her quarters and made her way to the bridge. Everyone else was already there, familiarizing themselves with their designated consoles. The tried to breathe out as silently as possible. Even if she couldn't put herself together, she knew that she had surrounded herself with capable people. She'd seen Thea's piloting and knew the girl could fly. Jerek was a Jedi and, from what Nova had heard, their skills spoke to the legendary people that they were. And BB had mastered every ship's system Oasis had within a cycle of being aboard. She had no doubt that the HRD would perform beyond his parameters.

Reeve whistled a joyous greeting as Nova stepped onto the bridge and she smiled at the R3 unit. She placed a hand on the droid's dome and felt a little better surrounded by family. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this.

Staring down the chrono once more, Nova dug right into the job. "ETA for reversion to realspace in 10. Now 5. 3... 2... 1..." Oasis dropped out of hyperspace into the first stop along the String. "Welcome to Zareca, the system that the hyperroute is named after." Nova looked over the sensor data coming in and projected the image of the solar system on the holotable. "There are three planets orbiting a late stage blue giant star. Two gas giants with lots of moons, one with rings, and then a single rocky planetoid orbiting very close to the star. There's a lot of shadows in the system created by the large astronomical objects and magnetic interference so we'll need to do a flythrough to see everything." The original plotted course deposited the ship well inside the system's outer cloud of particulates but just outside the largest planet's orbit.

"According to the last registered logs, there should be a small research outpost on one of the moons orbiting the inner gas giant. We should check in with them and see if they're helpful. Take us in and let's see what there is to see."

As soon as she stepped onto the bridge, surrounded by her family-crew, and put her mind to task, Nova seemed to just meld with the operation of the ship. As soon as there was nothing for her to do, her nerves came back, and as she waited for the ship to make its way through the system, she couldn't help the feeling that she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

 

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