Breath Before the Dive

Posted on Wed Jan 7th, 2015 @ 1:08am by Morgo Le'Shaad & Thane & Bomoor Thort & Berry & Sev Rezer & Nimo Lemere & G2-O7

3,136 words; about a 16 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Red Raptor
Timeline: Concurrent with "Walls of Jericho"

OLD

Nimo peered at her, studying her—as if her cold, controlled exterior would betray anything. Then he frowned faintly. “Funny how money can’t buy you a new crew.” He smirked, almost triumphantly, at the failure of his favorite thing in the world. “So what’s the plan?”

Fingers dancing upon the screen of the datapad beside her, the device made a soft beep of confirmation as the commands she input appeared onscreen.

"This is."

For the first time since the beginning of their prickly conversation, Morgo smiled—a hideously smug thing across her pretty features, her long arm extended to the pirate, offering the datapad.

Nimo's blue eyes flicked down and across the screen in small, rapid successions, taking in what was being shown to him.

And red eyebrows climbed towards his hairline.


NEW

A stream of binary flooded through the circuits of the droid with a rate of a billion numbers per second. It was a standard stream of upload and download during communication with the ship's navicomputer but it had been tasked of utmost importance by the crew that the calculations given by the Dromachian master be entered with complete accuracy. A tiny spark of emotion was processed by the droid. G2-07 never miscalculated by design so any error was due to an incorrect command input. But if it made the masters pleased if their instructions were given with greater weight, he did not have to tell them that he continued to function at the same capacity as always: maximum.

With a satisfying click, G2 disconnected his interface arm from the terminal and retracted it into the compartment with the hatch closing behind it. He then released the pressure in his leg valves to drop him back down from the terminal to his most-comfortable height. He no longer saw the stream of numbers from the computer, instead his visual interface picked up the various lights from the wall panels illuminating the small dim room adjacent to the cockpit. Even without his sight, the little spherical droid knew the layout of the ship like the paintwork on his chassis. The only thing he could not predict accurately was the crew.

The faint grind of his motors began as G2 propelled his way forwards and into the cockpit where several masters were gathered. They spoke together in serious tones. G2 had caught little of their plans besides the instructions he had been given. He felt another twinge as he wished he had a larger role. After all, his existence was tied with the fate of the Red Raptor.

"Bweep! Bloop, bloop," G2 processed the droidspeak into its audible form, relaying to the crew that he had completed his task of laying in the new course. As per instruction, the ship would not move on the course until manual input was received from the large human master with the cybernetic eye.

Sev looked over his shoulder to the rest of his companions. "Last leg before we enter the atmosphere. We're at the point of no return", he said, his expression grim. He had much invested in this. His crewmates lives and his honor. It was the first time and a long time that his honor was the first time in his list of priorities. And it had been awhile since his bloodlust had not been in the forefront of his emotions. "Everyone ready?"

Morgo blinked from where she leaned in the far back corner of the cockpit, shadowed save for the occasional blink of a console light.

“As ready as we’ll ever be, I’d imagine.” She said wearily, voice unsteady from disuse. Shifting her weight from one leg to another as she leaned against the door frame, the MagnaCuffs around her wrists clinked quietly. “Lemere, is Berry taken care of?” she asked, eyes shifting to the back of his red head.

Nimo ran a hand through his red hair, brows furrowing. “For now.” He glanced behind them, earring swinging from the motion. She never stood in one spot for long.

Morgo seemed to consider this as she looked down to her boots, her fringe of hair a bit overly long as strands caught on her lashes. In the slim chance she survived this encounter with the Mandalorian Exiles, a haircut was most definitely in order. That and a number of things…

“Then Jericho awaits.” Morgo said evenly as she pushed herself from the wall, “Take us down gently, Sev. I’ll meet you both at the ramp.”

Slightly red eyes gave Nimo and the back of Sev’s dark head one last look, before she turned and left the cockpit, the sound of her light steps softer, as they grew more distant.

Nimo nodded at the Mandalorian before turning on his heel and walking out. He was a navigator and pilot, but the man looked like he knew what he was doing. But to be honest, Nimo was sure he’d still have critiques ready to launch off of his tongue. Best to leave the man alone before the confrontation…

Sev grunted quietly at Morgo's reply. It was not his first suicidal mission. But, it was his first rescue mission since... since... He shook his head slightly, burying the memory of failed deeds and the blood that stained his honor. He had to keep his mind sharp and focused. But it was hard now. He grunted again, this time shunted that part of his mind completely.

He typed the coordinates and slowly execute the jump to hyperspace. Onward to Jericho. Oward to meet death or to deal death to Zrad. All he had to do was to big enough so everyone else notice him as the others do what they had to do. Zrad was smart, but he was also vain. That would be used against him.

I will not let him goad me. Morgo taught me well. Deception is also a weapon in war, he justified to himself the lies he was going to spin.

He looked at the painel and checked time to reverse to realspace: 5 minutes and 37 seconds.

As Nimo left, a crash and cracking thud in the rec room brought Nimo running in, his long coat flapping behind him.

“Hairy balls of the Sith, woman!”

Labored breaths pushed past Morgo’s clenched teeth as she squeezed her eyes shut and turned to look at Nimo. The sticky viscous run of blood oozed from her nose to her chin, starkly crimson on her pale face. She stood near the ship’s ramp door, a splatter of blood on the wall before her where her face had apparently impacted.

“What the kriff is wrong with you?!” he demanded, rushing up beside her. He gesticulated wildly. “You’re supposed to be a prisoner, not a bag of useless bones!” He cast her a dark look. Granted, if he had half as pretty of a face as she did, he’d probably want to do more to it before Zrad’s men got to him....

Morgo stretched the crick in her neck and threw Nimo a flat look, “This wasn’t an accident, pirate.” She stated, sounding more than a little congested with the blood now coagulating in her nose. Morgo smiled, her teeth stained a horrid pink, “I’d hardly be a convincing captive if I looked fresh as a lily, now would I?”

Swallowing in vain the clear the familiar metallic tang from her mouth, Morgo licked her teeth to clear away the blood, disregarding the pain in her nose.

A smile froze on his face as he his blue eyes glared at her. “Wasn’t...an accident?” he said tightly.

“You mean you did this on purpose?!”

For all his charm, anger changed him more, enough to make it clearer how Berry could even be scared into submission (sometimes). If Nimo hadn’t invested in creams for his face, he’d have a vein throbbing in his forehead now after that yell. He sliced his hand through the air as he growled, “I’d be perfectly willing to sock you a few times in the face--for a price.” He lifted his chin and stared down his nose at her, examining her handiwork.

With wet sounding tsk , Morgo turned around fully. It was a testament to her own skills that the blood on her face did little to mute the high-born, brand of boredom radiating from her.

“If you recall, you did 'sock' me a few times down on Nadroj. Burned me even. But those wounds are hours old.” She said, all the while repeatedly twisting her wrists in her cuffs to create abrasion marks, “This one has to be fresh. This one has to show to Zrad that Sev is a brutal and domineering Mandalorian as any of his own men—at first glance.”

Nimo smirked, eyes glinting a bit. He hadn’t forgotten that beating in Nadroj. Not for one second. “I can make ‘em extra fresh, if that’s what you want.” He flexed his fist.

“Save that bloodthirsty seduction of yours for Zrad.” Morgo scoffed, wrinkling her nose in irritation from the blood drying on her face, “I’m sure it will work wonders when he’s pulling your intestines from your anus.”

Nimo barked a laugh, smirk widening. “More action then I’ve seen in a while, that’s for sure.”

“Well, keep it in your pants, darling.” Morgo sniffed, “Or we might be forced to tell Berry that you were too busy dueling penises with Zrad to come escape with us.”

Morgo raised both her shackled hands to lightly tap the side of her nose with a fingertip, blinking at the sting of pain. Yet it was not the unique sensation that signalled a broken nose, so Morgo thought no more of it as she looked at the pompous pirate in all his leathery glory. Despite his silliness, Morgo appreciated the distraction he offered even as she felt the Red Raptor lose altitude in its descent into Jericho—a special Hel of the Mandalorian variety.

The pirate sobered somewhat at the mention of Berry, his captain, and shuffled his boots as he looked back over his shoulder, presumably where he last left her.

“About Berry…” he began, quietly as if the part-Aquar could hear. “…I don’t think that she’s going to stay put like we’ve told her to.”

Morgo frowned, the arch her eyebrow waiting for an explanation.

“Well, you see, Berry has this pattern where she sort of… does the opposite of what someone might tell her to do.” Nimo explained, a cringe forming on his face.

Morgo’s face was of one exasperated, “Well then bribe her with—”

A sudden rattle behind both Morgo and Nimo interrupted her as a floorboard of the Red Raptor burst open, resting now on a dark head with a golden green face. It was like a head of cabbage had suddenly sprouted from the ship’s floor, except with two huge blinking eyes.

“Duel?” she said at first. Then she grinned at the sight of her pilot. “Nimo!” There was a bang, to which Berry laughed. “I was trying to wave to you, Shady Lady, but my hand’s stuck.”

Morgo narrowed her eyes as she looked down at the girl, not even surprised that Berry had somehow found them by burrowing in the Red Raptor’s smuggling passageways, beneath the floor.

Berry smiled at her crewmate. “Well, I found you! I thought you said that this game of stash-and-seek was only going to be in these neat tunnels?”

A glance to the vaguely “caught” look on Nimo’s face, and a glance down to the pouty jut of Berry’s lip was all Morgo needed to see. Nimo’s plan had gone awry, and nowhere near any mood to be dealing with Berry’s antics, Morgo moved forward with an uncaring stomp atop the floor grate balancing on Berry’s head. Shouts of protest came from both Velusians but Morgo brushed them off as she pushed Berry back beneath the floor with her boot, the metal of the grate clanging shut.

“Hey, you can’t do that!” Nimo shouted as Berry’s whining came through the grate. He ran over to her.

“Ow….” Berry complained, rubbing her head. She felt a lump. Her dark eyes looked up at the tiny squares of light coming through the grate. “Hey! Let me up there with you!” she cried muffledly as she banged her fist on the floor above her.

Morgo ignored them both as she crouched down to ensure that Berry would hear her through the Raptor’s floor, “Berry, game time is over now.” She stated, grave as death, “Sev, Nimo, and I will be leaving soon and you cannot follow us, do you understand?”

“I want to fight!” Berry argued. It felt like she spoke to the darkness in the tunnel with no one listening. “Thane and Bomoor are in trouble and they need help!”

“I don’t care.” Morgo responded cooly, “If you come with us, your water magic will be taken from you. You’ll become weak and as vulnerable as the child you are. Even with all the accelerated healing you have, you won’t survive a direct shot.”

“Then I just won’t get hit,” she retorted.

It was then that Nimo had had enough. He shoved Morgo out of the way and lay himself on the ship’s floor so that his cheek pressed into the floor right above Berry, shooting Morgo a dirty look. “That’s not how you do it,” he hissed to the noblewoman who was now on her side, before turning all his attention to Berry. Morgo was smart, but negotiating with the desperate took certain skills...and certain knowledge.

“Berry,” he called, his voice softer. “You can’t come with us.”

“But I—”

A sudden smack on the floor interrupted her.

“No, Berry!” Nimo snapped, louder than he meant to from the stinging pain in his hand. But there was something else in his tone, a kind of pleading waver. Desperation.

Fight fire with fire.

The sound of it made Morgo pause in her attempt to stand after being unceremoniously shoved to her side, turning her eyes to study the pirate whose face was pressed to the ground.

“If you die…” Nimo began quietly, “…who will lead us back on Velusia, huh? Who will be our Captain? Orza, Kassi, Najis, Pacha, and Iboni are all getting stronger, waiting for your signal.”

Nimo smiled faintly, his mind going back to the members of the crew, and from Berry’s silence, she was thinking of them, too.

She stared into the tunnel’s darkness, the small rays of light from above breaking it. It had been so long since she felt their energy, their presence, or heard their laughter and voices...

“You can’t die here, Berry,” Nimo insisted. “So you stay here on the ship. You can come out from under the floor after the men who come in here to inspect the ship leave. But until then, you have to stay quiet, OK?”

Berry seemed to listen, as only silence was her response. The part-Aquar frowned in the splotched darkness, brows drawn.

Morgo watched the pair of them with an uncommonly thoughtful expression as she stood. She’d been out of sorts with being unceremoniously pushed aside, but all that had floated away when Morgo truly listened to what was being said between Nimo and Berry, his Captain. Morgo had never truly believed that someone like the green idiot could possible captain a crew, let alone earn a measure of respect from them—but somehow Berry had.

And the intimate depth they knew of one another...was singular, indeed.

The sudden slow of their ship’s descent and the unmistakable sound of the Raptor touching ground startled Morgo out of her thoughts, and brought her back to reality. With a lurching shudder, the ship’s engine’s began to wind down, as it rested its full weight onto its landing talons.

The had arrived in Jericho.

Standing abruptly, Morgo dusted herself off and met eyes with Nimo.

“It’s time.” She declared quietly, a surge of adrenaline making her dizzy.

Sev got up from the pilot's chair and walked off from the cockpit. He looked at Morgo. "Good idea", he said to hercurtly, aprovingly.

He started checking his weapons. "As soon we are out and and on our way, this ship will be scanned and then they will try to enter. I'll put the fear of death in whoever is going to approach us outside, saying there's some horrendous traps and self destructions systems here and only I can disarm it and I only do it after I talked to Zrad", he looked at Berry and Nimo. "You two know what to do? Because we don't have time for talking anymore."

Nimo stood and turned to look at the Mandalorian, his long coat swishing slightly from the movement. Blue eyes gazed grimly at him, and the Velusian nodded in compliant silence.

Sev glowered at the boy and nodded back. He looked at Berry. "Stay alive, stay strong and persevere", he said. He turned around and slapped the button that opened the ship's door and looked at Morgo. "Take a breath. We're about to dive and we may not come out to breath anytime soon", he paused. "Or at all."

The Red Raptor doors hissed before opening with a resounding thud.

If the outsiders had extremely good vision and tried to look, they would have seen the grate in the floor raise just a bit, eyes peering from the darkness below.

The grate rested on Berry’s head as she watched their feet leave. Or rather, boots. Nimo’s was covered in sharkskin leather, raised and rough yet fashionably sewn. Morgo’s heavy but quiet boots, whispering across the metal floor. And Sev’s scuffed but sturdy boots, probably hiding a dagger or
something equally awesome in the heel.

They walked, further and further away from her into who knows what. Well, she did know what since she could feel the presence of people…but who knew what was really waiting for them in the bowels of the fort, where no water magic or any magic would work?

Berry’s eyes widened and she tried to stand, her golden-green lips parting to say something—anything—to the departing party.

The doors closed and sealed with a loud, jeering hiss.

They were gone.


TBC

RSS Feed