Icarus Falls

[Vex]

“Boss... you've got to get out of there.”

“I'm working on it, Wash.” Rizzen sighed as he responded to his agitated Familiar. The Falleen was walking swiftly down the narrow corridor, refraining himself from running only by sheer will. To bolt down the hall wasn't going to improve his situation...all it would do is give him less of an opportunity to react to anything that happened. Given the situation, he preferred to have as much time as possible.

He was already behind the power curve, after all.

“I see a team coming up from each stairwell and radio chatter indicates that a third is being flown in on hover. They'll be landing on the rooftop in less than three minutes. I'm trying to override their security protocols, but they keep putting them up as fast as I'm taking them down. It's taking forever to make headway.”

“It's okay, Wash. Keep me updated on those security positions and do what you can with the security. Somebody was obviously expecting us. Be prepared to evac at a moment's notice. There won't be a lot of time...” He trailed off at the end, not bothering to finish the rest of his thought. It would become apparent soon enough. There won't be a lot of time for you to get out of here.

“Right-o, Cap'n.”

Rizzen heard the power lock cycling to his left. He twisted around as the door slid open, slamming the electrical stun baton he held into the metal chest plate of the security droid that had been activated by the silent alarm. The voltage crackled over the droid's chassis, making it jerk and shudder. It wasn't enough to disable it, but it was enough to give Rizzen time to rear back and slam his boot into the automaton's chest, sending it tumbling back into the closet it had begun to emerge from. With the doorway clear, the portal slid shut again. It took two heartbeats to pull off the exterior door control panel with the tip of a knife taken from his boot. The electrical discharge proved far better at disabling the door than it had the droid behind it.

Rizzen kept moving.

“Uh Boss...the other team just landed. They are disembarking n-....wait, I just lost feed. The firewalls are popping back up. I think someone's just initiated a trace to try and triangulate my source. Running countermeasures.”

Grimacing, Rizzen shook his head. It was as he had feared. This had all been planned for one purpose...to flush him out. Somebody had obviously been paying attention to all of his activities as of late. In reality, he had always assumed that there was the risk of someone trying to profile his activities. Before, however, he'd always worked very cautiously to avoid things that may be flagged to his behavior and make him easier to track. He didn't always have that luxury now, however, not when he was focusing on targets for Mand'alor. Where his leader required him, he would go. Unfortunately, it made him vulnerable...and the Republic had finally managed to set something up too alluring for the Mando'ade to pass up.

He finally reached his destination. When the trap had been sprung, the lights and main power had been cut in an effort to disorient and limit his ability to move around. Security had its own, separate backup generator that supplied power and allowed the doors to be cycled through the system. He had finally reached that generator's location.

From his belt, he pulled out the small breaching charges that were resting on it. Placing them around the door, he stepped to the side and out of the door frame before inputting the key sequence that caused them to detonate. The door dropped away, so much useless metal, at the same moment that explosions from the two stairwell doors also occurred, followed close by skittering canisters of smoke that began to fill up the already darkened halls. He slipped inside the room, face grim beneath his mask.

“Wash, I'm disabling the security generator.”

“...Um, Boss, you can't do that. Without power, the doors default to 'lock'. You'll seal yourself in.”

“If I don't, they'll trace your signal back to you and the ship. It's up to you to get messages out to Mand'alor and the rest of the Mando'ade, and then get yourself safely to Project Familiar. It cannot become apparent to the Republic that I am being assisted by a Familiar. That puts Rahja, Sender, and the rest of the Familiars at risk.”

“Cap'n....Rizzen, I can't just leave you there!”

“You can, Wash. You will. We both knew this was a possibility. It's time for you to initiate Lambda Protocol. Disengage and inform command before security your own return to Project Familiar.”

“Boss! I...”

“It wasn't a request, Wash. You can't do anything here and now...but you are still the only chance I have of getting out of the situation. I know you won't let me down, Washburne.”

“I....you can count on me, Cap'n.”

“I never doubted it.”

“Cap'n....”

“I'll see you soon, Wash.”

He'd been busy while they had the discussion. What charges he had remaining was attached to that generator, wired up with the backup power packs he carried for the rest of his equipment. Keying in the final detonation code, he waited on the final digit. He activated the comms scrambler that would wipe all connection to Wash and his ship as he heard the sounds of footsteps moving swiftly and efficiently down the hallway. He took a moment of pride in this...they had, at least, worked very hard to prepare this trap and had sent in professionals. Removing the last two items from his belt, two small canisters, he armed them and tossed them out either side of the door, closing his eyes as the flash bangs went off. Diving from the room, he hit the last digit on his gauntlet keypad before his shoulder impacted the floor and he rolled. The explosion behind him took out the power control box for the generator, causing it to make a wailing cry of agony before rattling out its death knell, killing even the emergency lighting.

Rizzen gave the men credit...they responded well to the flash bangs. A pair of them were writhing in pain...two others were stumbling, but the others kept tracking, fighting against the disorientation to try and engage with him. He snapped up that baton, knocking a rifle wide before it spat out blue coruscating waves of energy. Stun....they mean to capture me. Twisting around the length of the barrel, Rizzen brought his other hand up. Now filled with the solid grip of a punching dagger, he slammed it into the man's jaw, beneath his helmet, and used it as a lever to pull the slackening body around. The blade pulled free with a wet “schlick” and the momentum caused the loose bag of limbs to tumble into the feet of the rest of the first team, further adding to the confusion. He turned then to deal with unoccupied enemy...

...and promptly dropped flat to the ground as another pair of stun bolts flew over him. Pulling himself up and forward, he left the baton on the ground as he bodily rammed into the closest man still standing, fouling his next shot so it absorbed harmlessly into the wall. Getting a grip on the uniform, he twisted away from the next man who was to his side, bringing his “guest” around in time to catch the lion's share of the stun blast.

Nevertheless, his right hand tingled and went numb from fingertips to elbow, waging a sudden mutiny against control. Hissing, he thrust the man away and into the shooter, letting them sprawl out. Distantly, he heard footsteps, turning his head to see that the teams from the roof had apparently gotten inside before the power was blown. He didn't have time to curse this as he heard movement behind him, bringing up his arms as he twisted to ward off the blow of the stun baton that came down. One of the men had picked it up and was attacking him incessantly. The bracer kept much harm from befalling him, but it was still an unneeded distraction. Stepping forward, he brought his arm up, palm resting against his own ear as he protected his face and drove that elbow forward at his assailant, crushing his nose and sending him reeling.

That was when the first bolt hit him in the back. He turned, trying to face this new attacker and instead felt that rebellion spreading over his limbs as they became heavy and sluggish. A knee buckled and he dropped down to one. He heard another adversary coming up, felt a hand on his shoulder. With a great feat of effort, he managed to bring his hand up before the effects of that bolt fully took effect, dragging the man off-balance as he allowed his body weight to fold over and forward, pulling the man over him. The man landed awkwardly, his head jamming against the wall while the rest of him hit the floor. The wet snap of cracking vertebrae was audible as he went limp, half on top of Rizzen.

Pounding footfalls surrounded him and he felt the tingle of two more bolts hit him, his grip on consciousness slipping away. In his last few moments of awareness, he couldn’t help but smile sadly as a last thought flitted through his mind, coupled with the memory of rich crimson eyes and an enigmatic smile.

The Republic had sent three squads of men to capture him. All they had needed was one woman, one extraordinary woman.

---

Everything in Wash was rebelling. His programming was telling him to follow protocol and do what he and Rizzen had decided in the event something like this happened. He’d never actually expected to have to do it. He wanted to do something, do anything, to help his partner. He would have too, if Rizzen hadn’t blown the generator. A small part of his processes had calculated that there was a 99.5% chance that his partner had caused the lockdown specifically to keep Wash from trying to come there and help. Wash didn’t need the analytical model to let him know it was true. He knew Rizzen, after all. The Falleen had never intended to get out. He had known it was hopeless and had instead done all he could to mitigate the chance of Wash getting caught as well.

Reluctantly, he hopped into the pilot’s chair of the ship, jacking himself into the system and getting the automated controls up and running to prepare for departure. Rizzen had spared no expense in making certain that, if necessary, the little mustalid droid would be able to use the ship to get himself to a safe location like Project Familiar.

It wasn’t long before he was in orbit and pulling away with the nav computer already working on jump coordinates. Switching over to the communications array, he patched himself in directly and prepared the hardest communication he’d ever had to send.


Mass Familiar Comms System
...system startup
...accessing comms profiles
...profiles accessed

>>Message Recipients:000PF00100FAM
>>attach following familiar codes:
Sender
>>Flag: FLASH Priority
>>Code: Black
>>Authentication: *************
>>Encryption: Yes
>>Subject: FIDES Familiar Partner MIA
>>Body: FIDES 17 partner, Rizzen Xan, currently MIA and considered to be EPW following failed operation against enemy installation. Site was compromised and contact was lost with partner after ambush commenced. FIDES 17 is currently following pre-planned contingency protocol for return to PFHQ. Will wait for contact and rendezvous with collection team or further instructions near Kessel, coordinates attached to this communication.

It sounded so sterile to Wash, but he didn’t know what to feel right now. He was lost his programming unable to handle this and forcing him to disable several of the emotional protocol processes so that logical calculation could take over and allow him to do what needed to be done.

Wash curled up on the seat dejectedly as he sent out the short coded burst communication to the PFHQ and to Sender, letting them know that the world as he knew it was crumbling down. As the stars turned into shining, streaking lines of color and light, he turned his head away, powering down his visor so he couldn’t see. Right now, he just wasn’t in the mood to see anything shiny. His world was dull and gray.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

A slight shift and a small ripple of grey crossed that cloak at the light waves were disrupted by the movement. The mottled brown and tan weapon shifted almost imperceptibly as she watched the violently gesticulating man at the mouth of one of the many phobium mines through her scope.

Garvin Letix.

A former Republic Army officer who had retired when his contract had ended five years ago. He’d been in good standing after 20 years…never a front line fighter, really, but a good strategist. At least, that’s what his files said. Recently, however, he’d taken to running an operation here on this gangster dominated planet. Why the Republic wanted to keep it was beyond her. Why the Mandos wanted it was beyond her as well. It was likely the phobium. It had certainly been part of the reason the graying many below (and about 935 meters in front of) her…but Garvin was more than just a phobium mine owner and businessman. He’d been selling other things as well. Drugs, occasionally girls (mando, empire, republic…it didn’t matter) and, if the fancy struck him (or the price was right) military information. He still had friends in the military, had connections through the people who processed the phobium, had ears just about everywhere he could and with his ‘spotless’ service record…well, who was going to question him? And lately…well lately he’d been feeling more and more loose lipped.

He didn’t know about the Hounds.

He didn’t realize that people were watching when he went to this mobster’s paradise to start his ‘new career.’

Either he didn’t know…or didn’t care.

He was about to care, but by then it would be too late.

<<The shot’s lined up. Give me another wind reading.>>

The voice was little more than a soft purr across the com through her throat mic, the chiss language keeping her words practically indecipherable even if (and this was a big if) someone had managed to tap into the secure line. About half way between herself and Garvin, a charcoal grey and black bird was settled on an electrical post. Sender had gotten quite good at imitating actual bird movements, and his new chassis had only enhanced the illusion he was already good at creating. Behind all the subtle motions of a perched bird, however, a complex series of processors worked over the constant data streaming in from the world around him.

<<Five point six-one kilometers per hour at the midpoint. Judging by your HUD feed you should be aligned perfectly.>>

For a moment only, her mind’s eye didn’t see Gargon. She saw Garvin’s form well enough, and she felt the world around her as she should have in the force, but for a moment only she was back on Csilla with the wind whipping around her creating a flurry of snow that obscured her vision. This was the man who had caused it all…all of her pain, all of her fury, the deaths of all of her friends...the death of her lover. This was the man that had betrayed them all. A traitor.

After that moment, the snow faded to the edges of her mind and that ‘invisible’ laser sight from Sender could be seen through her scope…the man she saw Garvin once again…but it didn’t matter.

He was just another traitor.

<<Taking the shot now.>>

Goodbye, Garvin.

With a gentle tug on the trigger, the rifle in her hands attempted to buck with the force of the shot. She didn’t allow it the chance. As the shot rang out Garvin’s head snapped to the side, pulling the rest of him down in the same direction as he went boneless, blood pooling below his head. The miners scattered with shouts of dismay and his personal guard rushed forward, automatically trying to shield someone she already knew was dead. With a swift motion of one arm the slug was ejected, the next round automatically loaded in.

…one by one they fell…

Kin’to Boma

The other guards took defensive position, Sender swiftly lining her up for the next shot.

Wenlam Foorin

Red and green bolts peppered the air in front of her eyes, all falling far short of her as one of them attempted to com others for what would, no doubt, be assistance.

Quan-lev Minru

A pair of them was slowly moving up along one wall, covering each other as they moved swiftly from cover to cover. The muzzle of her weapon shifted just slightly as her body inched to the side.

V’bem Rithrom

A bullet struck the side of the outcropping she was settled on, just a couple of feet short of the edge. He was out of her sights…

She shifted, lifted, a piece of ground stretching up and morphing into an almost cone-shaped lump as her cloak pulled up with her…around her…slowly. With calm, fluid, motions she settled herself again as another bullet glanced across the edge of her position. A fraction of forehead and lekku showed itself from behind an ore cart, accompanied by the muzzle of a gun and a pair of eyes…

Lemnos’wel

<<Let’s go.>>

With detached indifference the sniper stood, a ripple of silvery-grey flickering across her cloak as the movement disrupted the image reflected in those metallic fibers, and turned to start back through the old mine-shaft toward their rendezvous point. It wasn’t until she was practically a third of the way through the tunnel that Sender’s voice finally crackled into her earpiece.

<<Rah…I have some…news and…it’s urgent.>>

As he soared through the air above the chaos that was slowly building in the mining compound, Sender decoded the message…again…for the fifth time. Maybe it was insanity, decoding it so many times in hopes of seeing something new…something different…but each time it was the same.

He’d only ever heard stories about this sort of message, only once had any Agent actually died and left their familiar behind…that familiar was never the same. Only once had any Agent actually been captured by an enemy force. That agent had been Rahja and he knew that story all too well…but now…this message…being on the receiving end of it, rather than the sending?

<<Well what is it that can’t wait until we got back to the rendezvous?>>

<<It’s a message from Wash…>>

Even though she kept her brisk jog, the heavy cloak, rifle and gear weighing her down, that blue skin paled slightly at the tone from her partner and the words he spoke. Please don’t let it be what I think…

<<Rizzen…he’s been captured by Republic forces.>>

Darting into the small shaft that led up to the top of this section, she clambered swiftly up the ladder toward the sky above. Was Sender’s news good…or not? Certainly Rizzen wasn’t dead but considering what he did for a living…considering the fact that he was Mandalorian and did what he did for a living…she knew what was likely going to happen. Especially once they figured out that he wasn’t going to tell them anything easily.

<<Where?>>

Silence.

<<Sender…where?!>>

<<Here. On Gargon.>>

Silence.

That’s all there was, all there could be, after news like that. As a Familiar Agent she had a duty to help him. As a Republic soldier she had a duty not to interfere. As an interest and his friend she wanted to help him.

<<I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.>>

<<BUT RAHJA!?!>>

<<Enough.>>

---

She pointedly ignored the previous statement of the man watching her from the other side of her ship’s comm. system while she tended to a blaster injury along her arm, her face…her demeanor…more stony than usual.

“I know how you must be feeling, Rahja, but you’re the closest one. You’re actually on Gargon. Besides, I would think that you, of all people, would jump at the chance to pay back the man who handed you over to the Empire for this very same treatment.”

”General, with all due respect, you haven’t a clue how I’m feeling right now.”

Sender hunkered down on the back of her chair and prepared for the worst. The face of the General went hard as he visibly pressed back the years of friendship with the Chiss woman and passed back into the realm of her commander. Rah knew she’d gone too far with that comment, but at the moment she didn’t care. She had a story all lined up and ready to fire…not all of it lies.

“That was out of line, Kel, and I suggest you don’t do it again.”

”Yessir.”

“Now I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Kel, but this is an order. Get over whatever issues you’re having with performing these duties and do it fast. We can’t afford to let someone like this slip through our fingers without some information about who he really is and where he comes from. If he is who we suspect, then we can’t let this get to the press either. Now pack up shop and get to the base, Miss. Kel.”

Her eyes had narrowed visibly, her face hardening, as the man before her spoke, but all she could do…the only choice she really had…was to nod once.

”Yessir.”

As the comm. blinked off, she groaned and wrapped her arm, securing the gauze before powering up the ship. It wouldn’t take her long to get there…but it felt like it was light years away.

”What…should I tell Wash?”

”Nothing about our assignment, that’s certain.”

”Right…wing it…okay.”

---

---

”Goddess…this feels…..perfect.”

The blonde shifted a bit, enjoying the feel…the sensation…of this little taste of heaven in the still dimly lit hangar.

“Does it?”

Her Zeltron partner was all smiles as he watched the expression on her face. Samantha sure was something else. Right when you thought she was done surprising you, something new cropped up. Still…people did say Corellians had rocket fuel for blood…

”You have no idea how good this feels, Jazz.”

He chuckled a little as her eyes closed in a sort of ecstasy that he knew only too well. She was really happy…a sort of happy he hadn’t felt from her yet. Bliss…that’s what it was. Contented bliss. It was nice coming from her, rather than the sometimes false happy that she used to cover all the hurt and anxiety…or the overly hyper happy that was…nice because it was real…but it tired him out just trying to cope with all of it.

“I was hoping it wasn’t too tight a squeeze in there…”

Those grey eyes opened and she beamed a smile at him that he was sure he’d ever seen before. It was like she was a different woman. Still, there was an impish emotion bubbling up in her again that he knew meant mischief…well…in this case it might mean fun.

”Nope…it’s a perfect fit. Does the clamp have to be there, though?”

He laughed a bit as she looked from the metal clip, to him, then back again.

“Nah, you can take it off and put it anywhere that feels right for ya.”

”Great…I was afraid I was gonna bruise something with it there!”

“Well you might still, if you’re not careful.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully at him and folded her arms across her chest for a moment, earning another laugh from the red skinned man. Really…this guy thinks he’s funny. He’s not funny….bah, alright, he’s a little funny. Poking her tongue out at him for a moment, Jazz could only chuckle and grin brightly.

”Wait…wait…Jazz, seriously! If you’re gonna move that, put it behind the gunnery seat.”

Half standing in the cockpit and twisting around to look behind her as Jazz started trying to wedge a small silver case between the hull of the fighter and the gunnery seat, then strap it down, she caught one of his arms. Shaking her head, all she could do was sigh and turn all the way around to kneel on her seat, propping herself forward against the back of the chair with furrowed brows.

“Why all the way back there?”

”I don’t wanna get knocked in the head by a first aid kit is why. Cripes…isn’t there a net back there?”

She couldn’t believe that there wouldn’t be one…sure the interceptor was cramped for space, but not that cramped. Poking his head around the back of the gunnery seat, Jazz muttered to himself for a moment before the sound of metal buttons popped open and he slipped the kit into the black net, snapping the buttons closed again.

“I…didn’t see it, sorry.”

”It’s okay, but you gotta remember…this is a fighter, not the AXE. Anything that’s loose could clock me in the head.”

Smiling at him, she gave his shoulder a pat and turned back around to settle into the pilot seat again. Sighing contentedly, the blonde sat back and ran her eyes over the familiar (no pun intended) controls to the new Hawk-S….the Harpy. It was almost exactly how she remembered the old Firehawks…

One hand moved to run along the center stick, testing the movement of it lightly…hardly daring to believe this was real. Part of her mind drifted back to the past as her eyes unfocused for the fraction of a second it took for her to remember there were things she needed to do…like help get her gear into the Harpy. Pulling herself (almost unwillingly) from the seat, she clambered up onto it and out onto the sturdy wing of the craft, hopping down lightly. It didn’t take her long to collect her gear…well, what remained of it anyway. After the loss of the Exodus there wasn’t much left as far as gear was concerned. Still, she had her heavy blaster pistol and her blaster rifle, as well as her cache of flight gear and demolitions gear. Glad I actually bothered having a cache around here that wasn’t in the Ex. Toting her things up the ladder, Sam swiftly started arranging the Harpy by muscle memory.

Jazz could only pause to watch as she meticulously stowed her gear as if she wasn’t even giving it a second thought…like she’d known the Harpy for her whole life and knew precisely how, and where, she wanted it. It made him wonder just how that could be possible. Sam had always been forthcoming enough with him, and he knew she’d been a demolitions expert for the Republic Army on Corellia…he knew that she was a damn good pilot who’d flown for most of her life…but this was different. This was a different Samantha.

She didn’t even notice as her Zeltron compatriot stood back and watched her work in the cockpit, making it about as close to her old setup as possible…Sam was just lost in the moment and her actions. Moving from the small gunnery seat area back to the pilots seat, she plopped down comfortably and checked the various zip, snap-button and velcro close pouches within reach. Each one held exactly what she wanted…what she expected…it was nice to know she remembered her set up outside of flight still. It would make things during flight so much easier to find. Twisting around, she caught hold of one of her pistols from its stowed position just behind her seat. To the other side her rifle was stowed comfortably within reach and secured. With a grin, she knew everything was right….well…almost everything.

The back of her chair was uncomfortably devoid of her father’s leather jacket.

Sighing, she shook it off and nodded to Jazz.

“Ready to start ‘er up?”

”You have no idea.”

Even though she’d been allowed to test the engines previously, she still couldn’t get over the sensation and today…well, today she got to fly. Reaching around, she grabbed her helmet from the gunnery seat and gave a light tug on the cockpit hatch to start it moving as she sat down once again and started the Harpy’s power-up. With a twist of her hair, she slipped her helmet on and clipped it before hooking up her flight suit (G-suit) to the air hose. With a flick of a switch the air started flowing through the system and built up the steady pressure against her legs and abs…a sure sign of the Gs she was able to expect from this sort of craft. She grinned even as she clipped the breathing mask onto her helmet, the rush of air through it blowing across her face as it dangled half on.

Slowly the cavernous hangar had started bustling with the scientists who resided in the compound, as well as the few mechanics and even a few of the more curious GAIs. The lights around them had slowly begun to flicker on as well, revealing the speeders that were parked against one wall and the AXE dropship that was settled several yards away, as life returned to the slumbering compound. The blonde pilot could have cared less. In fact, the only reason she cared was because it meant she could finally get off the ground.

”Alright, Jazz, I got her from here. ….Thanks for the help.”

The man gave a stout nod and hustled down the ladder, a grin on his face, as her hands moved deftly over the nearly identical controls…the hatch closing down over the cockpit with the smooth sound of brand new hydraulics. Her heart was racing already, a feeling similar to her first time flying with the Sevens taking hold of her; a sense of immense pride, duty, importance…privilege…a sense of belonging. Today she added a sense of meaning and feelings of hope, nostalgia and (oddly) completion to the list as the engines powered up in a high pitched decibel, then roared to life behind her before settling into a steady purr.

Even as lights and screens came to life under her hands, she could almost feel the Harpy’s contented and happy rumble. Smiling to herself, Sam went through the flight checks easily, testing all the wing flaps and gears steadily. All around her the gauges and readouts were showing up green as one of the scientists read her off the weather conditions she’d specifically asked for. It all read good weather and clear skies, perfect flying conditions. Clicking the breathing mask to the other side of her helmet, she listened….felt….the VTOL gears shift downward as the dome of the hangar opened and let light filter in. No doubt the opening of a grassy hill would have looked strange enough from above, but the green and golden-yellow painted fighter slowly rising out of it must have looked even stranger.

Samantha didn’t care one bit as she flicked her comm. on so that she could give updates to the PF science team and the two man team from NMT. Right now was the moment of truth…they’d want her to take baby steps, but Sam…she wanted to run. She was ready, the Harpy all but begging for it…buuut the ground staff wanted her to take it slow. As the glistening craft rose into the air, she reached up and slipped down her HUD visor, the covering swiftly tinting under the sun’s bright light and dimming it and allowing her to see without having to squint. The HUD lights danced before her eyes as she looked this way and that, getting her bearings as she stopped the upward motion of the Harpy.

Gently, she’d move the control shaft around in a square-shaped movement, the Harpy easily hovering with the movements. Her eyes looked past the HUD readouts to the ship’s readings and she gave a short nod. Each angle was tested, as best she could, to check the hover systems and their mobility in the air for any problems, but she couldn’t find a single hiccup. Nodding again, she finally spoke up. ”Alright, energy readings stable at 100%, engine readings green. VTOL works like a charm…teacher, may I be dismissed for recess now?”

A belabored sigh sounded in her ears at her question. “Yes, yes…very good Miss. Zaftig. You may proceed with standard flight testing, but for force sake, take it slow at first! We need accurate readings!” That had her chuckling a bit…they knew her all too well.

”Alright, fine. I’ll play ball…don’t wanna end up grounded. Are the readings transmitting alright so far? It says you have a good link.”

“Oh yes, we’re getting very clear readings from the engine and power cells.”

Sam didn’t recognize the voice very well; after all, she’d only met the man and woman from NMT today, but at least they had people skills. It was a nice change from the socially awkward, odd, antisocial or downright sociophobic scientists that haunted the halls of Familiar. There were a few decent ones, certainly, and she got along with just about everyone to some degree…but it was just nice having a couple of techies around who had some people skills. Like normal people should have. Yeesh. Nice not to be groused at too. ”Good deal, Doc. That said, I’m off.” And so she was.

In mere moments the power through the engines rose and she shot off in a press of G-forces that she had missed for years.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Their first mistake had been putting him in a holding cell without binding him. Once he awoke, he'd taken stock of his situation, planned, and waited. The first time they'd come to take him for interrogations, he'd been waiting. The first man through had gotten two boots to the chest, slamming him back into the others. He'd taken out three and been about to attempt an escape when reinforcements had arrived and gunned him down with stun bolts. When he woke again, he'd been strapped vertically to a table. During the first interrogation session, the interrogator got into his face, angered at the Falleen's lack of response. He had, of course, been goaded by Rizzen's pheromones. That had allowed Rizzen to headbutt the man, busting his nose and making a great distraction for his unbound fingers, which were close enough to the man's belt to get the Republic Security Key that was clipped there. He happily accepted the short beating the man gave him before guards came in to pull him away. He'd made his second escape attempt when the doctor's had come to check on his condition. Freed of his bonds thanks to the key, he'd threaten the doctor and manage to find a vibro scalpel in the man's kit bat. Insult was added to injury when he used that to hold the man hostage during this escape attempt. It was his unfortunate luck that the man wound up fainting from the shock of everything. This...led to another round of stun bolts. When he woke again, he was force-cuffed to the ceiling, hands covered, feet weighted. He'd been worked over pretty well and sported a lot of bruising and one or two cracked ribs. The doctor hadn't come back to see him again...

---

She'd been in the compound for a while now. Long enough to see the second escape attempt, at least. She'd refused to assist in wrangling the man back up again, stating that she needed to see just how clever he was at escaping, as well as seeing what sort of condition he was in and reviewing the last escape attempt. That, and 'it wasn't in her job description.' So, as they managed to get him into something that...might...hold him for a while, she stripped herself of anything that he might find useful. For now she was just going in to do a bit of healing and to test the waters. AKA...she was stalling for time. So far they didn't know who he was working for, much less why...and while there had been a positive ID through facial recognition software, there had been some trouble getting blood samples. Well...clean ones anyway. So far as she knew, she was the only one who truly -knew- anything about the man.

So it was that she entered the holding cell armed with nothing but herself and giving express orders that until she contacted one of the men outside telepathically, the door was not to open. Stepping in, she waited for the door to close behind her and lock before drawing any closer to the man hanging before her, a soft sigh escaping her as she did. "Well, Mister...Vren...I certainly didn't expect to meet you again under these circumstances..." That was certainly the unfortunate truth. Her cloak had been left in a locker with Sender as the guardian, along with the majority of her gear, leaving her only in durable civilian clothing of dark colors and still a bit dusty and dirty from her time in the mines, hair pulled back and twisted into a bun to keep it out of his reach. She'd come straight here, after all, the only addition being her Hell Hound arm badge. Right now, she was hating it.

"Now, I wonder why it is that I've come to find you here, of all places. Have you given up the past-time of turning women over to the sith in favor of infiltration?" --I'm so sorry Rizzen...but they called me here...--

---

He'd been resting, such as it were, when she made her entrance. At the sound of the door cycling, he'd lift his head and gaze toward it. Violet eyes widened just so...barely perceptible save to those who had an eye for such minute details. The surprise could be from anything, but she would know the truth. Other than that minor tic, the rest of him remained unassuming...the most benign prisoner on the planet, by all appearances. Finally, he allowed that expression to slip slightly, a smirk curling the corner of his lip. He shrugged...or whatever motion was the closest approximation to a shrug, given his current situation. "Times are rough, sweetling. A pragmatic individual takes employment wherever it can be found." His tone dripped contempt and scorn, much as it had with the previous interrogator. His eyes flashed with dangerous, arrogant bemusement as he looked her over from head to toe. "You are still looking in fine....very fine....shape. Your time as a guest on Muunilist couldn't have been too unpleasant." He played his part well, his tone and mannerisms matching that of a cocky soldier-of-fortune. Meanwhile, his mind opened gently, offering her solace while he eschewed her apology. -You've nothing to apologize for, little one. It was not you who was foolish enough to get yourself into this situation. I cannot fault them for making a good operational decision.- He spat at her boots, sneering. "Did you miss me?" -You look exquisite as always, Rahja.-

---

He looked horrible, but...he could have looked much worse. He was going to look much worse after she was done with him. The thought was not pleasing to her...not a bit. The surprise in his eyes, such as it was, was expected...hers had been the same way upon hearing...then seeing...who it was. His smirk was something pleasant to see...an honest expression, if for different reasons than those watching might expect. Still, she held her face as a stony mask, not a crack showing through the utter distaste she showed...for the situation, not the man.

"Of course...and that's why you're here, right? Pragmatism?" She'd pause before him, glaring at him, so it would seem, but she was watching the camera in the corner and attempting to discern just how this was going to happen...and how she would have to tether him down to keep him from getting hold of anything she might use against him. =Force help me, what a mess this is,= she thought and finally turned her eyes back to him. "You'll find out soon enough, won't you? I think I may have learned a trick or three while I was there. Perhaps I'll share them with you?"

For every ounce of venom or sarcasm he gave her, her tone was just as cold and unfeeling. Still as he opened his mind to her, she'd return the favor, if only slightly. Too much and it would show...she knew this much about herself. --I do...for what I'm going to have to do to you, Rizzen. Be it by choice or not.-- At his question, she couldn't help but grin, almost devilishly, and let out a low, dark, chuckle. "Apparently I did...but I can remedy that...my rifle is in the other room." She'd let out a long suffering sigh and shrug slightly. "Unfortunately, you're lucky in the fact that I can't kill you yet...it would be counter productive. So...here I am to heal you before I actually get to work."

Still...she had to make it convincing. Even as she 'saw' those injuries, the cracked ribs, the bruises...she wasted no time in putting her hands directly on one of the damaged ribs and pressing. Hard. --Thank you, but...please don't compliment me...not right now. I don't think I can take it--

[Vex]

At her first question, he shrugged. "Everybody makes a career error now and again. It seems I should have done my homework before taking this job. I'll just have to make certain that I add on some added charges to the total bill." He cracked that smile wider. Letting his eyes roam over her a little bit, he purposefully took her words wrong, letting his pheremones pump out while his coloring ripped and brightened into a richer crimson, like lust. Given the coloring and the increase in pheremones they'd be able to detect, her controllers would no doubt think that he was trying to use a similar trick as he had earlier and incite emotion or feeling. In truth, however, he was trying to calm her...to help her stay settled for the task at hand. While he didn't enjoy being on the receiving end of what was to come, he much preferred it to being the one that had to administer it. He doubted that, in her shoes, he'd be able to do half so well. -You are stronger than me, Rahja. You can do it...I have no doubt. Do what must be done. I understand the necessity. Whatever happens, you must remain blameless when I get out of here. There can never be an ounce of doubt that you are anything but a devoted soldier who did all she could.-

He seemed quite calm and assured about those words, as though it was just a matter of time before he was free from their control and captivity. At her words about healing him before she went to work, he blew her a kiss and chuckled. "Mmm, yeah, it's about time you got your hands on me for a change. Just wasn't the same with you helpless before. I like a girl that knows how to play rough..." It was simple innuendo...something to try and shake her...rile her up and get some small modicum of power out of this situation. It appeared as though the mercenary was trying to exert some control.

He groaned harshly at her hands as she pressed them so hard, letting his head loll back as he laughed harshly and growled. Dropping his head, he looked into her eyes. With that open mind, she would almost be able to see him disassociating, walling his consciousness off from the pain and the trial that was to come. The person that could be seen, the soldier of fortune, Vren, was the armor to protect him from what was to come. Only she could reach out still and touch the real Rizzen.

---

Wash found himself gently guiding the ship into the asteroid belt at the designated coordinates. He managed to align the ship and land it inside a crater on one of the larger pieces of rock, settling in for the long wait and powering down all non-essential systems. Keeping only the radar and comms online, he reverted them to a passive state and only receive what might come his way. Hooking himself into the ship, he set everything up so that if anything registered on the communications array or the radar, he'd be notified. Then, like the ship, he powered down. Oblivion, at this point, was much preferable to staying conscious and thinking about the recent past.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Addition: Long italics section is written by Arheim, our loverly PF professional.

---

Rah couldn’t help but snort softly…whether it was at his words, his coloring, or his thoughts, she wouldn’t say, but really, it didn’t matter. She had already begun stepping aside, so to speak…disassociating, as he no doubt would be later. She’d had to before, after all, if not in quite the same context.

”I hope they’re able to pay you anything after I’m done with you. Then again…they might just kill you…whoever ‘they’ are.” She smirked, just a bit. ”Though I suppose I’ll be finding out, won’t I?” Smiling sweetly she’d ignored his thoughts for half a moment as she’d studied him and his injuries through the force, seeming only to watch him placidly. ”Unless you want to just save me the trouble and tell me outright…dearling.” While his pheromones did help in keeping her just a bit more level headed, she hadn’t been completely distraught either. This was just another sad, yet almost expected, turn in her life.

Everyone I get close to ends up hurt…I’ve told him so before. --Whether I can or not isn’t a factor, nor is my emotional strength. I must, so I will. There is no choice.-- Blameless…hardly blameless, but again, I don’t have much choice…they can’t know about us, and this is the only way to keep it otherwise. I hope Wash got help. Someone would get Rizzen away from here, she knew it…even if it was herself and a well planned ruse. Still, she allowed his persona to rankle her just a bit at that ‘kiss’ he blew her…her counter reaction, her ‘rankling’ little more than a sharpening of her features and a lift of one brow.

“I like a girl that knows how to play rough…”

She couldn’t help but grin devilishly at that as she targeted his ribs, causing him to groan and growl a harsh laugh. ”Good…then you’ll love me,” she countered flippantly, with a devil-may-care smile as she released the pressure on his cracked ribs. Moving her hands, she’d start with the more severe bruising that would hinder her progress by swiftly turning to something more dangerous, like internal bleeding. There wasn’t much that was that bad, but she was going to make sure. In fact, she’d only found one place where the bruising had been bad enough to potentially turn into a risk and with a little time it was nothing more than another bruise. No point in healing him fully of a bruise, after all, when her energy was better spent elsewhere.

Still, she made sure to ‘test’ the area of the bruise along his abs with a sharp press of her finger. ”How’s that? Feeling better than before, I hope?” She didn’t wait for a reply as she moved on to one of his damaged ribs…not pressing, this time, but starting to heal the fracture. ”So, Castor…” Another rough press of her thumb against his rib punctuated the beginning of her comment before she started healing him once more with a very coolly muttered ‘apologies.’ ”Since it seems we’re going to be spending some time together, I thought we might start to get acquainted. I’ll start us off, shall I? I was just wondering, is that you’re real name, ‘Castor’? I mean, Castor Vren is decent enough, but hardly a name befitting such a…prime specimen…of the Falleen race…which you very obviously are…”

Just as she had expected, his mind was hardening, shifting to bring up that armor and will away the full reality of the situation…slipping into a role that would protect him, shield him from some of the pain this was going to cause. Pain that had already started. Even though he allowed her to stay connected to the depths of his mind, she wasn’t certain he would want to be connected to hers…the link worked both ways, after all, and her thoughts had already moved on from healing him. That was her disassociation: complete focus on the task set before her. What could she do to work the information out of him as swiftly as possible with as little permanent damage to him? What information would she be willing to verify as truth? Just how far was she willing to take this out of the bounds of ‘conventional’ torture? What might have been worst of all, however, was the fact that she was swiftly working to convince herself that this man was not the one she knew him to be.

No, this was the face of a man who knew something…something that she wanted to know. Badly.

Somewhere in the darkest parts of her memories Rizzen became the final missing piece to a puzzle that would unlock the answer to just who had killed everyone she’d ever cared about.

That, however, she would never allow him to understand…

---

---

After her initial speed off, Sam rose steadily until the Harpy broke a low level cruising altitude, the world passing ‘slowly’ below her in a patchwork of greens, browns and blues. For the moment, however, she hardly paid the color scheme of Kuat’s surface any mind, her eyes dancing along the displays laid out before her past the glow of her HUD readouts. On the other end of her comm. Sam could hear the quiet muttering of several people over the readouts they were getting from the craft. ”How’s everything looking to you Docs? Still green here and I’m itching to open up…all this loitering is making me sleepy.” Okay so that wasn’t entirely the case; any time Sam got behind the stick she woke up mighty fast and for a long while, but she wanted to get a point across.

There was a soft chuckle from the other side of the comm. before the man of the NMT duo spoke up. “We read it fine, just give us a little more time. Still…you’re a fighter pilot, staying the same speed doesn’t mean you have to flight straight.” The silence of the pause that followed came from both ends as both parties attempted to decide just how they felt about that statement or what to say/add to it. Sam had just about decided on something to say when he spoke up again. “Besides, it’ll be useful to see what the readouts will be through the maneuvers.”

”I could kiss you right now.”

That earned a solid laugh from several of the scientists (and Jazz) that was drowned out by the sudden rush of adrenaline and the sound of her rising pulse as the Harpy took a sharp dive….

Grey eyes widened in surprise as the piercing howl hit her ears even through the hull and canopy, the unexpected sound stunning her into silence for half a heartbeat before she let out an excited whoop in return and laughed like a madwoman. Pulling up once more, she grinned behind the heavy airflow of the mask as the howl finally tapered off, gravity pressing her back into her seat. Rolling to the right, she watched the clouds spin behind her HUD before she straightened out and craned her neck to look back behind her at the swiftly shrinking landscape. ”If only you guys could see this…holy Goddess, this is…just wow.”

Leveling out again she let out a low whistle and a little chuckle as the Harpy rolled left, ending with her hanging momentarily upside down before rolling right again and settling upright again. The steady purr of the engine behind her pumped a steady pulse through the Harpy, something almost electric to Sam’s senses as she banked hard to come around and head back toward PF. There was something about this bird that was…well, she couldn’t describe it. Maybe it was the nostalgia of the craft, the sensations, the sights and sounds it brought, but…it was more than that.

”You guys are too quiet…I know I’m having fun up here but cripes…tell me something.”

“Alright…well…I think we’re all confident that the engines are fine. It should be safe for you to push her a bit.”

That was music to her ears.

”Alright boys and girls, hold on to your hats then…”

‘Testing’ the airbrakes and pulling back, the nose of the interceptor swept upward sharply as it slowed.

Come on, girl…let’s touch the sky.

In an instant the airbrakes had been switched off and the throttle opened up to 80% as she shot upward, the Harpy leaping forward in excitement as the Gs piled on. Lordy…I forgot how uncomfortable this part was…Still, it shouldn’t have been this bad. Glancing at the inertial dampener, she got a good shock upon seeing it’d been dialed down to 70. Frelling hells…Acting swiftly, she pushed the dial back up to 90 and breathed a hell of a lot more easily. Some would have looked at her as if she were insane for having it that low, but the Gs were half the fun. Besides, she could take them after flying a jet.

Sweeping through the clouds, the Harpy pulling a trail of them with her, the sky swiftly started turning from bright blue toward black. Grey eyes scanned the readings on the canopy seal and the 02 levels and flow. ”So far so good on the space seal and 02 readings…same with pressure. Dampener is working like a charm. Energy and engine readings are green…starting up the shield…” She couldn’t help but snicker slightly as she brought the new system online. ”Wouldn’t want to die by space gravel, after all.”

“But we’re not r—“

”Don’t worry…I’m not actually leaving atmo. Big babies…but I am up far enough that it’s good to check all these systems.” She could have sworn there was a sound of relief from one of the scientists. One of PF’s if she heard correctly. Silly worriers. Still, they had the reigns on this little test and if they called her down again she’d have to go, so she was playing by the rules. ”And shield is holding steady. Green readings all around and feeling excellent…even the Indian night noises are minimal. I think I love this bird. Coming down to play with the cherubs for a bit.”

Flicking off the shielding to save energy drain on the engines, Sam couldn’t help but snicker as Jazz had to try and interpret her comments for the scientists. Ah well, they’ll learn eventually. Glancing over her shoulders each direction it took less than an instant for her to see the spoilers doing their job as the Harpy lost altitude as she pressed downward on the control column. That wonderful howl as she dove was something Sam knew would never get old. She nearly hit the deck at 200 feet, the wash of the engines creating contrails of dust and debris as she sped over the open planes before her. With that, finally, out of her system, the Harpy was taken for a ride ending in a tight loop that had the ground and sky reeling through her vision before she finally pulled back on the throttle and enjoyed the scenery with a contented sigh.

---

The hangar bay was a small basin of activity, even for Project Familiar standards. This prototype had been a long time coming but at last it seemed a worthy replacement for the somewhat dated AXE for high-speed retrieval had come. At least that's what the techheads were trying to determine, a majority of which managing to remain almost irritatingly skeptical even as the Hawk-S roared to life at the heed of their experienced test pilot. Now the data was pouring in, and all of it was good. Very good. A few of the less cloistered ones and even a GAI or two actually cheered! Today was nearly as happy a day for PF as it was for the pilot who at long last got to truly stretch her wings.

Then Pan came.

Even as she stalked through the bay door, the air seemed to chill. Several of the nearer workcrew backed away several steps. There were a few reasons for this sudden change in atmosphere; the first was that the rumors of what the ill-tempered doctor were only slightly more terrifying than she was in actuality, but more frightening still was the fact she was this far from the central labs. Sunlight was a thing that few could ever recall seeing reflected on those pale white scales, yet it shone through the open ceiling disguised as it was as a large grassy knoll and onto her though she seemed to bear it no mind. Her stoic expression said all the rest: there was some very, very bad news.

She ignored every soul in the room but one who her eyes remained fixed upon as she approached the man from NMT with slow purposeful strides. He lowered the commlink he had been speaking to Samantha through only moments before and gave her a concerned, questioning look. He and the other NMT representative had met this "Dr. Lenarksi" on several former occaisons during the development of the Hawk and while they were far from anything resembling friends, at least their numbers had matched up. He knew this was a being to be respected. And so when she stopped in front of him and lowered her head solemnly, even he knew something very serious had happened.

All eyes in the room watched the quiet exchange Pan made with the man in silence. Only the various whirrs and chimes of the testing equipment remained to buffer the tension that hung in the air. At last the representative nodded and raised the commlink back up to his lips. "Miss Zaftig," He waited for her confirmation.

"We have an emergency."

---

If only…her hand had lifted from the throttle as she cruised along, brushing against a spot at the center of her chest. Smiling, she didn’t even consider the fact that she’d started humming an old tune from Corellia until the sound of the NMT man's voice broke unexpectedly over her comm. and called the last of the testing off. As the comm was passed to Pan she listened to the reasoning, eyes flickering over the information transmitted to the Harpy’s systems, grey eyes widened. ”Wait, what?! I’ve got no teeth practice with the…okay, okay right…Kessel it is.” No use in arguing or getting cold feet over it, but still…an EPW? To whom? Republic? Sith? Mando?...other?

“Just go und get Vash und bring him back here, Zaftig!”

Growling a bit at the loud snarling in her ear, Sam pushed the throttle again and brought up the shields. ”I hope someone told him to expect me, Doc, because this is gonna be a long flight.” As the blue of atmosphere became the black of space, then broke orbit altogether, her fingers deftly entered the coordinates specified as the other hand brought the hyperdrive online. Here’s to hoping I don’t run into any stars…Watching the jump points map themselves out, Sam waited until the full run was plotted before bringing the Harpy around and aligning with the first jump point. With a steady push of her hand against the small lever at her right the stars blurred around her into that familiar hyperspace tunnel.

It would be quite a few hours later that the Harpy would drop out of hyperspace just outside of the Maw Nebula. The coordinates read that the ship she was looking for wasn’t actually on Kessel, however. Yup, it was about to be a very long day…especially since it looked like her target was somewhere in The Pit.

”Why did it have to be here?” Flipping a switch on her comm. she plugged in the code to the ship she was supposed to be meeting and brought up the encryption code she’d been given. Hopefully 17 was listening. ”FIDES 17, this is the Harpy…please respond.” She may have been willing to begin the ‘easy’ part of the run, but she wasn’t taking a ‘step’ into the pit until she had some confirmation that he was out there.

[Vex]

Wash's internal systems kicked into life as the comms transmission was received by the ship's array. Affecting a yawn, Wash uncurled his tube-like form and stretched, running through his basic diagnostics. When everything came back to him green-lit, his photo-sensors came to life and he looked around to determine what had brought him out of the state. It took a few milliseconds for him to call on his memory archives to remind himself what had happened in the recent past. That caused his optic receptors to dim slightly as the little FIDES let the sadness and despair wash over him again. He was, thankfully, rousted from the moment slightly by the realization that he had been brought out of his low-power state because of a positive communications hit. Playing it back, he ran the voice against his PF biometrics recognition database. It came back immediately as a positive match for one Samantha Zaftig. Pickup had arrived.

"Harpy, this is FIDES 17. Please transmit verification code in order to receive coordinate location." His voice was almost robotic in its words, finally wavering at the end as he burst out. "It's really good to hear your voice, Sammy!" The sadness and terror in those little vocabulated words. He waited impatiently until she finally sent the proper verification codes. Once they'd been received, he sent out the coordinates for the asteroid's location. He'd wait until scanners determined that she was less than a half click away before turning on his transponder in order to guide her in the remainder of the way.

---

"What's wrong with Castor? I'm rather fond of the name..." She was being gentle with him for now. She was torquing those wounds with her touch...trying to irk and bother him with the pain. As far as things went, however, that pain wasn't even a blip on the radar...not compared to what he knew was to come. Honestly...she'd caused more pain to him during some of the most pleasant memories he had of her. In that protected corner of his psyche, he wrapped himself in memories like those and others while he allowed that alter defense take the lead.

"I'm glad you noticed...I'd been afraid you forgot from the last time we were together, darling. We had so little time together, but I tried to make it as memorable as possible for you." He hissed out a laugh while her hands continued to heal and harm in equal measure. She was hardening...distantly he could tell that. She'd shifted her point of view, turning the situation over into something she could control. It was a technique he knew of....making reality something that was palatable for you. She was making motivation in order for her to do what had to be done. If he was truly honest with himself...he'd accept the fact that where she was going...frightened him. This was not a place she wanted others to be or to see. Some day...he'd bring it up, when she was ready.

"Why don't you let me out, little one... stop being a tease? I'll show you just how fine a specimen you've got. I assure you, I'm more than a handful. Just one hand, Rahja Kel...one hand and I'll show you a time like you wouldn't believe." He leaned his head as close to her as possible in an effort to whisper in her ear. "I'm good with my hands..."

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

And hopefully this will be the start of better Rah posts and shorter Sam posts...or at least more size-appropriate posts lol

---

A soft snort of derision was the first response he got to his reluctance to share another name. Come on, I know you have to have another one lined up beside your own…give it up. She didn’t think his name, didn’t even want to associate him with it right now, as she stood up once again. His attempt to tease her verbally, his innuendo, only earned a wicked smirk…at first. She’d already paused in her healing, so, stepping forward to the point of almost pressing against him, her hands went to his sides…finding the most tender places she could. ”I’m sure you are, and I’m sure you would…but I’m rather good with mine as well…”

With that she pressed hard against those sore places along his sides, as well as the rib she’d been healing…actually putting some decent strength into it this time and feeling it bend at the weak point as she looked up at him. ”Now about your name…I’ve met a few other Falleen beside yourself, Mr. Castor, and their names have all been a bit more…exotic. Besides, you know I’m hardly new to this game. You have another one…how about you tell me and I can go back to being polite, hmm?” Pulling in on the force, she melded it into her muscles, helping her to amp up the pressure she put on him…if only a bit…and holding it there as she stared calmly up at him.

Give it up....give one of them up…something for them to look at…”So what is it, then? What other personas do you have buried up there in that brain of yours? You falleen are to careful…have too much ‘honor’ to just go around using your real name in a profession where you might get caught.”

---

He didn’t like having to reply to this horrible message knowing what he knew. Perched atop the storage locker, Sender entered and re-entered his message only to scrap it each time. What in the name of the wizard did you say in a circumstance like this? Everything ‘sounded’ so…so…shallow and meaningless. Maybe it was because he knew what the facts were, the ugly truth of the situation, or maybe it was because he knew how it felt to be in Wash’s place. Giving an audible sigh he shook his head and tried again.

=Wash. I received your message some little while ago and I’m sorry for not contacting you sooner. Rahja and I were completing a mission and this was the first chance I had to really try and process the information thoroughly. I…wish I knew what to tell you, Wash, I truly do. I…don’t know what we can do but I’m sure Rahja will come up with something to at least TRY and help. I’ll try to keep you and Familiar abreast of any information we receive through military channels as much as possible. Hang in there, little cousin, I’m sure he’ll pull through this. You’ll see him again! =

Trying to convince himself that it was better to leave Wash in the dark about what was really going on, he sent the encrypted message and truly hoped everything was going to work out. As it was, the blueprints for the base were…disconcerting.

---

”Kessel run: Leg one…complete.”

Throttling the Harpy back, she adjusted the nose of the interceptor for the next leg.

The Maw nebulae was a dangerous place, the Kessel run even more so. She’d never liked this particular course, the timing, skill and sheer luck needed to navigate it more than a headache, but she didn’t exactly have a choice. She wished she had a choice. Well…she did have a choice but it just wasn’t in her to stand back and wait if someone needed help. ”Leg two beginning in three…two…one…mark” Fifty percent…seventy percent…one hundred percent. The time was started as she ignored her radar and sensors all together.

They wouldn’t help her here.

…all they were picking up was the cloud, and considering parts of the primarily emissions-type nebula were thick enough to be considered a dark nebula, the light near them was minimal. Dipping below one of the colored clouds of dust particles and gasses, grey eyes flickered along the scene around her, emotions and thoughts racing through her mind. The last time she’d been through here her father had been with her…but right now those thoughts were obscured by thoughts of someone else.

It sure is a pretty sight...if you ever have the time or eye to enjoy it…

Sighing, she brushed a spot on the chest of her flight suit and turned her thoughts back to the little familiar that she hoped was out there somewhere. Sure can seem lonesome out here, even with all this dangerous beauty around. Shaking that off as well, she glanced at the elapsed time…and the elapsed distance. ”Leg two complete. Beginning leg three in three…two…one…mark.”

As the Harpy twisted deftly between two ‘pillars’ of cloud a burst of static stabbed at her ears over the com system, the signal disrupted by the ionized emissions. Still, she could catch faint words between bursts of grating static noise. It wasn’t a voice she recognized, nor did it sound…human, or even ‘real.’ The signal code was the one she was looking for, but it sure as hell made no sense to her mind.

“…py, thi…des…een. Plea…mit ver….in or…ive co…atio. –lly goo…ear y…ce….my!”

”Do not copy. Transmit again, 17. Dratted cloud is makin’ all kinds of music. Repeat: Do not copy. Transmit again.” Frell…this is gonna go nowhere with this nebula screwing the pooch as far as the com goes. Maybe something else will get through…Twisting through another bundle of clouds she broke free of the arm she’d been traveling through and cut the forward thrust, allowing the ship to drift as she entered the message into the com system and keyed in the security encryption.

=Message garbled through voice-com. Too much music from the nebula. In transit. Entering third leg of five for Kessel Run – Formos side. Requesting current position. Familiar ID SD48S91141, Zaftig.=

If there was any verification code attached to his original message to Familiar she didn’t know about it, so the best she could do was her personal ID code and last name. It seemed to work, anyway, since the coordinates were sent shortly thereafter as she’d tunneled her way through the next leg of the run. By the time she’d reached The Pit itself she was, quite honestly, exhausted…and cramped. Very cramped.

Reversing thrusters, she slowed the Harpy and eyed the nebula-ensconced asteroid field dubiously. Am I really up for doing this right now? Unhooking her O2 mask, she pushed her visor up, the HUD clicking off with the action. She hated this part of the run…really hated it. Just something to brag about to the boys later on, right Sammy girl? With another wide yawn, she pulled her water flask from the net beside her leg and took a drink to help wake herself up a bit more. Capping and storing the flask again, one gloved hand ran the length of her face before that visor was pushed down once more, HUD flashing to life across it once more. ”Alright, Sevchenko, let’s see you top this.”

With an impish smirk and a chuckle, she guided the ‘hawk into the nebulous asteroid field.

This was a feeling she hadn’t had in ages…As the new ‘hawk tipped and rolled between the shifting masses of rock and eerily dark cloud she smirked to herself, flickering memories of a race through the Agrilat back on Corellia prickling at the back of her mind…

Green wingtips slipped past the mottled and craggy surface of two asteroids by millimeters as she banked around to line up with the coordinates once more. The belly of the interceptor drifted above the surface of another by meters. Shimmering particles of dust and ice floated past the canopy, whispering past by centimeters….but all was still…a tense, yet almost serene, sort of silent vigilance emanating from both craft and pilot as the engine thrummed steadily behind her.

Years ago Sev had mentioned, once, that the Firehawk spoke to him in a way…on an almost tangible level. That he didn’t consider himself and the ‘hawk to be different entities…and that was why he was such a good pilot. Samantha hadn’t believed him at the time, but as she and the Harpy ghosted their way through the Pit toward their destination she began to believe him. Began to really understand what he had meant. It was an almost surreal experience, but she wouldn’t have traded it for the world at that moment in time.

…Well, she would have given it up for one thing…but that was a different story.

*Ping…ping…ping…*

The homing signal from that transponder brought her out of her half-thoughts and back to the task at hand. The closer she got the more annoying that signal got in her ears until she finally turned the dratted tone off and only used the HUD readings. In only a few minutes more the slowly twisting rock that was, apparently, 17’s hideaway loomed up before her. Drifting in closer, carefully, she barely spotted what could have been a ship as the Harpy’s single floodlight floated over a crater. Upon closer inspection (and some careful thruster work), she had the Harpy lined up to settle beside the other ship in the crater. Only question now is…how are we gonna do this? Flipping on the voice-com once more, she stretched out as best she could in the cramped space to try and relieve some muscle tension.

”17 do you read me? Snuggled up next to you for the time being, but there’s some small difficulty here. I came straight from testing this interceptor craft. I’ve no real docking ring just a couple small mag-clamps. I can magnetize to the hull of your ship and maybe slip through your hatch if you have one on the dorsal section of your ship but…

Anyway, you could just follow me back to Formos or forward to Kessel itself if you think you can make that part of the run, but I’m beat and cramped coming from Kuat, so I’ll need to take that into account depending on your choice. I don’t wanna risk the Maw if I’m gonna be half asleep.”

Hopefully the minimal distance would negate any effects the nebula had on the com system.

[Vex]

He grit his teeth, biting back a snarl of pain as she manipulated those ribs and continued her attempt at tormenting him. Violet eyes fluttered closed before his eyes could be seen to roll back into his head. Groaning darkly, he managed to turn it into a low laugh as he let his head loll back. "Polite? And who wants you to be polite, Ms. Kel? Forced politeness is so trite and boring. Life is far more interesting when people stop being polite and start revealing their raw, inner self. You learn so much more about them then. Please....be impolite....please be bad. It would make my temporary stay here much more interesting."

Leaning his head as far forward as he could, he allowed his eyes to open and gaze into her eyes. "I'm afraid that your coworkers leave a little to be desired in regards to hospitality. They've been rather...droll and uninspired..." His voice lowered a bit, "...but please don't tell them. I'd hate to undermine their self-confidence."

As she threw that Force-laden strength into that touch, his head dropped, chin resting on his chest as he focused on anything other than what she was trying to do to him. Breathing slowly, he spoke softly. "If you think I am so careful...what makes you so certain that I am, actually, caught? Perhaps Castor Vren is just a ruse...in more ways than one?"

His hands moved slowly, minutely, relaxing from the fists he'd kept them in from the time they'd put those securing mitts over them. Easing them up, he felt the room that had been made. It was minor....but it was almost enough. He just needed more time.

Fortunately...he had plenty of that now...didn't he.

---

Wash was fortunate in the fact that the makeup of the asteroid he'd settled on helped dampen the music from the nebula. It didn't hurt that she'd come into the system on the side of the asteroid he was on. It meant that he was shadowed from much of the interference that she was struggling with. While it was playing havoc with her own gear, his systems only had to filter out the latent noise.

Confirming the message, he sent the response back in encoded format, ramping up the gain and narrowing the broadcast area to her general direction instead of omnidirectional, managing to further up the strength and focus to make it easier for her to receive it.

It was about that time that he received a response from Sender. He wanted to open it up right then and there and see...he could really use some good news or some friendly words right now, but he remembered that he had other tasks to finish first.

Bounding down, he'd scamper across the floor, heading back toward Rizzen's quarters. There was something that he had forgotten to do. Rizzen had given him a very specific set of instructions for if something like this were to happen. Remotely cycling the lock, he hopped within, looking around and moving to Rizzen's personal terminal. Clambering up on top, he slotted into a connection and powered the system up.

He had to work his way through several layers of encryption and obsfucation until he found the file was was looking for. Putting it into a queue, he sent the message out, letting it pass along several anonymous relays to its final destination:

Falleen.

---

(reserved for the addition of the message and its reception by Rizzen's father)

---

Once that was complete, Wash made his way back to the cockpit...just in time to see that Samantha was getting close enough for the ships sensors to pick up. Getting back into the pilot's seat, Wash reached up, cycling the transponder on to guide her in the rest of the way. It wasn't long before the comms system crackled to life once more.

”17 do you read me? Snuggled up next to you for the time being, but there’s some small difficulty here. I came straight from testing this interceptor craft. I’ve no real docking ring just a couple small mag-clamps. I can magnetize to the hull of your ship and maybe slip through your hatch if you have one on the dorsal section of your ship but…

Anyway, you could just follow me back to Formos or forward to Kessel itself if you think you can make that part of the run, but I’m beat and cramped coming from Kuat, so I’ll need to take that into account depending on your choice. I don’t wanna risk the Maw if I’m gonna be half asleep.”

Keying the mic, he responded. "We have a dorsal hatch that you could make use of if you want, Ms. Zaftig. If you are that tuckered out, you could link up and come through the hatch. You could get some rest then here and we can work out the best way to get back. It sure was heck trying to get this thing around to this location. I'd really rather not try to do so again if I don't have to. Lets talk about it when you get here? I can show you my room!"

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Thank god most of this was typed already

---

”You are already quite well trained. I am surprised and impressed at this, considering the barbarians you grew up around, Eefr’ahj’akelith, but what makes you think that we will teach you anything?”

”I can improve. I must improve. There is information I must gain and you know how to elicit it. I am one of you come home…a link to a galaxy you choose to ignore but has many possibilities. You need me as much as I need you. That is why you will teach me.”

The older man chuckled at the young woman before him, her face a cold mask of seriousness and determination. So much fire it almost astounded him. She was a good example of the Red Flame thus far, and that spoke volumes. A part of him wondered how she had grown up to be this way among a ‘Republic’ full of barbarians. Cunning, courage, discipline, and obviously wishing to work toward a state of preparedness…how could he refuse her?

“You are correct…but…I must know, this personal war of yours…this information you must gain at any cost…do you initiate, or were you ‘attacked’ first?”

She gazed at him for a long moment as she debated her answer carefully. It was both, in a way, but she knew the correct answer. ”My comrades were attacked and killed before my eyes, making it an attack on myself as well. Thus, I was attacked first.” She watched as the man nodded again, his crimson and gold colored robes a stark contrast to the white clothing she had been given to wear temporarily.

“Alright, little cousin, come with me and we will dress you properly for House Akelith, then we will begin your training.”

“…start revealing their raw, inner, self. You learn so much more about them then. Please…be impolite…please be bad.”

She ignored his words as much as possible, only allowing a flicker of a memory from one of their nights together to seep through her mind before returning to its previous tasks. Scenario after scenario ran through her mind as she weighed her options, crimson eyes watching him passively as those scenarios branched out into a multitude of more possibilities. No doubt he was learning more about her more swiftly than he had ever thought would be possible.

“They’ve been rather…droll and uninspired…”

I can fix that.

Even as she spoke and put that added pressure on his ribs, her mind had settled on one grouping of branched thoughts and scenarios…the most likely ones. An escape artist he had proven himself to be…not once, but twice, and she would put money on him trying for a third.

“If you think I am so careful…what makes you so certain that I am, actually, caught? Perhaps Castor Vren is just a ruse…in more ways than one?”

She released that pressure on his ribs, letting her hands settle lightly on his sides as she widened her ‘view’ of him, both physically and in the force, checking the sensation of his circulation and heart beat, the other (more minor) injuries done to him…allowing her eyes to wander over him steadily in observation. The ghost of a smirk touched her face and she stepped closer to him…nearly coming to press against him as she caught the faint movement of tendons at his wrists. ”You won’t like me when I’m bad, Mr. Vren. And yes…you are very…” she slid her hands slowly up his sides and along his arms, ”very caught.” Her hands paused on the cuffs, checking how secure (or loose) they might be around his wrists. Still fairly tight, but she wanted them tighter. She wanted everything on him checked and secured again. She could still feel some blood flow through into the hands, but between the way he was hanging and the new tightness she was going to demand…he would have to be repositioned.

Stepping away again she continued healing his injuries, the toll on her energy affecting her mental barriers and threatening to unlock more of those compartmentalized memories. Still, she seemed to show no outward sign of the strain. ”I have no doubt that you will be missed and that you may hope someone is coming for you, just as I have no doubt that you are not who you say you are. However…I also know that if you had wanted to be caught, you wouldn’t keep attempting to free yourself so valiantly. Once, plausible…twice, dubious but acceptable…this third attempt you were working on? Not the sign of someone who wished to be in this position.” Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t have known for certain that she would be called in had he been captured…so that ruled out an attempt to garner information on her or her abilities. She sighed inwardly…Not that he isn’t getting a good look now, anyway.

Letting that healing energy drift away again, she stepped back and watched him carefully for a long moment. --Stay strong, Rizzen.-- That would be the last thing from her before she sharply cut herself off from that connection between them, her mind swiftly deciding what to do with the man as she turned and started for the door. ”Don’t go anywhere, Mr. Vren…I’ll be back to continue our little chat soon enough.” Pausing at the door, she clicked the comm. button twice.

“Ma’am?”

She stood silently enough, her words to the man unsettling him in their delivery, but soon enough there was a slight buzz and the door hissed open allowing her to slip through before closing and locking behind her. As she paused beside the guard once the door was shut, she gazed at him with a chilled, bloody, expression. ”This is your task, Sergeant. Take three men, enter and stun him, then sedate him. Wait for it to take effect before you move him.

You will bind his hands behind his back with the mitts on. Make certain that the binders are tight and re-secure the mitts. Be certain to bind his ankles securely as well.

He is to be chained to the wall. One foot of chain only…just enough for him to be able to stand or kneel. I don’t want him to have enough slack to get his wrists in front of him no matter how much he bends or twists or disjoints himself.

He is to remain as unmolested as possible until tomorrow morning when I will require him to be back as he is now.

Use extreme caution, and do not attempt to unbind or move him unless he is both stunned and at least moderately sedated. Do I make myself clear?”

The cathar nodded, managing not to squirm under her glare. “Yes Ma’am. Perfectly.”

A nod was given as she fought off a wave of dizziness. ”Very good. Remember, he’s escaped twice already. Be certain that you continue to re-secure him. We don’t want him getting away or attacking any of us. I expect him to be ready for me by 0800 tomorrow morning.” With that, she went to find herself a good place to collapse for a few hours…and maybe some food and water.

---

”Sam. Just call me Sam,” she muttered into the open com. ”Alright. Get the hatch ready then. I’ll have to slip through quick since this suit wasn’t meant for long open space exposure.” She huffed a little chuckle at that as she went about sealing her suit. ”Wasn’t expecting a space flight today, much less one this length.” She should have five minutes of full atmosphere and pressure with this suit before she had to be back into a pressurized atmosphere. It wasn’t the longest time allotted, but it would have to do…it should do until she could get into the larger ship. As she let the suit pressurize fully, she brought the Harpy up from its temporary resting spot and switched on the single floodlight to help her see the dorsal hatch.

It took a bit more finesse in guiding the interceptor to line up with it than normal, but then again, the small ventral hatch was new to the hawk’s original form. There hadn’t been much need for one previously, after all. Prepping the heavy docking magnets, she felt the Harpy pull against her hold on its position with the active magnets. Carefully she controlled the descent until the ship shuddered slightly once more with the attachment. ”Alright Wash, I’m set to come through.” Powering down the ship’s systems, she unhooked herself from the O2 and double checked the seals on her suit as she waited for the go-ahead. Once it came through, she unlocked and slid open the small hatch in the floor of the Harpy, feeling the atmosphere go rushing out past her. As the hatch on the ship below opened inward, she swiftly unclipped the safety harness and slid herself through, feet first.

She wasted no time in closing both hatches and waiting for the small area to pressurize once again before unsealing her suit with a slight hiss of air as her helmet came off. Grey eyes blinked around the little room swiftly out of habit before she took the time needed to stretch out her cramped feeling muscles. It had been a while since she’d flown any distance in a fighter or interceptor type of ship, and she couldn’t even remember if she’d ever taken one out for a flight of this length.