Carnival of Rust
Posted on Wed Jun 3rd, 2020 @ 11:50pm by Reave & Kalen "Rex" Vickers & Thane & Bomoor Thort & Amare & Mentis
Edited on on Tue Sep 8th, 2020 @ 10:39pm
2,647 words; about a 13 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: Red Raptor, At Hyperspace (Near Quesh)
Timeline: Start of Week Five
Far above the old abandoned toxic dump of a world that was barely known to the galaxy as Quesh was a meeting of two destinies that had taken many years to arrive at. A jagged metallic chunk from an ancient spacecraft, featureless and bland, was being intercepted by a smaller collection of debris elegantly spiraling through space. The debris had come loose decades earlier from the shattered hulk of the old orbital station that had changed ownership between the Republic, the Hutt Cartels, and independent proprietors for many centuries. Just as those smaller bits had completed their long journey around Quesh to finally tear into the larger hunk of space trash, the system had a new metallic guest snap out of hyperspace, almost as old as the graveyard of forgotten piles of forgotten spaceborne waste.
As the Red Raptor soared past the torn and gutted space station on the way to the rust coloured planet ahead, it banked hard to port to avoid its starboard half from smashing through a heavy uneven slab of thick deck plating only for a much smaller ball of durasteel to bounce harmlessly off the opposite end, although it did leave a minor blemish to the ship's paintjob and the collision was enough to be heard by everyone on board.
"We're in a heavy debris field," the female Nautolan pilot said over the intercom system as proximity alarms from the co-pilot's console were chirping. "Hang on everyone! This place is a real mess." Then to the space cowboy from Tatooine on her right, "Rex, spool up the shields if you woul--aah!" Amare barely dove the ship out of the way of a stray engine manifold that could have easily bashed through the window and ended their lives in almost an instant. Another pair of rough bumps of metal clumps struck the hull again, but no real damage aside from very minor dents. "That was close..." she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Close?" Rex demanded of Amare, his voice reaching a few tones higher than was his norm, eyes wide as he gripped the console in front of him, frantically turning his eyes from the viewport to the readouts and back. "Who in the various hells of Rodia taught you to fl-"
He automatically ducked as the Raptor dipped to avoid another large chunk of swirling stellar detritus, but he quickly turned his glare onto the Nautolan. If there was any fear of the Sith apprentice and her remarkable talents from the Human, they had quickly surrendered to his ire. If the man loved an enjoyable flight, it was probably reserved for when he was in the pilot's seat.
"Interesting flying," came the addition from Thane, who was just entering the cockpit after the sudden jolt from the recent impact, a hand pushed up against the bulkhead as the Raptor rocked again. Bomoor was stood just beside him, the pair having yielded the arrival to Amare, Rex and Mentis, all of whom were seated before them. The younger Human made his way closer to the fore of the cockpit, placing a hand on the backs of both Amare's and Rex's chairs, eyes looking out at the debris and dirty globe beyond.
"I thought I'd seen some crazy flying on the Janna," Mentis sat in his own seat, with one hand holding the nearby control panel for support, "But I think Amare is giving Rex a run for his money."
The topic of Rex's destroyed ship no longer seemed to be an indelicate subject between the Rattataki and the smuggler. Their rocky relationship had settled since their business on Naboo and both seemed to enjoy sniping at the other in good humour.
"You should realise, Mentis," Bomoor raised an eye stalk as a tangle of durasteel framework swept across their view like a sarlaac claw barely missing its prey, "That some of the best pilots are also Force users, given our enhanced perception and precognition. But that does tend to lead to more last minute manoeuvres. Perhaps you should try taking the wheel."
The pale Humanoid tightened his grip on the panel as another shudder swept through the ship, putting the artificial gravity to its absolute limits, "That's quite alright. It takes more than just the Force to be a good pilot so I'll leave it to the experts."
"I suppose now might be a bad time--" Amare started to say right when she banked hard to starboard, causing everyone's weight to shift uncomfortably in that direction, "--to mention that I've crashed every speeder and vehicle I've flown; except my father's single-seat deep hopper sub. I took it to near crush depth one time and almost got swallowed up by a reaper leviathan. Father was so ticked. I got grounded for three months, but it was worth it. Those teeth on that thing; as long as Bomoor is tall, and thicker than Mentis' aura of brooding."
Rex actually sniggered and glanced back to Mentis. "I didn't realise she knew so well already, Mantis," he said, before one of Amare's sudden manoeuvres brought his attention back to the front, eyes widening slightly.
Mentis' brow dropped and he looked like he was about to protest but another jolt of movement cut him off.
The ship dipped, rolled, and thrusted plus and minus on its z-axis and let loose a few quick bursts of blaster cannon fire until the way ahead was clear. Amare stole a quick glance at her approach vector to Quesh, but saw the little round instrument indicator was showing static. She tapped it gently a few times, then scowled at it and gave it a quick dose of percussive maintenance from her fist. The little monitor restored itself to working order in response.
"I'm really starting to love this ship," Amare said softly to herself with a satisfied smile as the Red Raptor broke atmo...
"We're almost at the coordinates Contrarian gave me," Amare said to the others as they flew low-altitude over the rusted shambles of ancient Old Republic and Hutt Cartel industrial buildings. There was an almost endless expanse of twisted military and civilian hulks, gutted out factories, and multitudes of battered and partially disintegrated smokestacks that hadn't funneled any chemicals through for anywhere between a few centuries, and several millennia depending on the structure. Quesh had been reduced to a giant orange-red monument of waste and broken dreams of people long dead for many generations. And yet, somewhere, hidden amongst the piles of scrap, her brother had been held prisoner against his will. No more. Amare had come to set him free once and for all.
Thane had remained at the front of the ship, his hands gripping the pilot and co-pilot's seats. Now that they had breached the atmosphere and were making good speed through the burnt-looking skies, he leaned forward a little more, peering at the skeletal remains of the so-called civilisations that had dominated the decaying world.
He closed his eyes, and Amare could feel him reaching out within the Force, surveying Quesh with more than just his 'natural' senses. He spoke, but his voice was quiet, barely audible. "They know we're he-"
"Almost there," Amare reported. "A few more kilometers."
From the haze of pollution ahead of the ship, there suddenly came a pair of bright green energy lances. The first shot left a glancing blow off the far port side hull, but the next scored a direct hit on the starboard side; only Rex's careful handling of the shields kept the ship from having a hole punched in it. Amare immediately started evasive maneuvers and tried to gain some altitude. She spun the ship hard on high-G turn, the ship's inertial compensators pushed to their mechanical limits. Fortunate for all on board was the Raptor's uncommon gapped-hull design which allowed for at least one of the turbolaser shots to pass through harmlessly between the inner and outer hull sections.
Relying on his preternatural abilities, Thane twisted about and avoided being flung into an untimely and embarrassing death. He claimed the spare chair and used the Force to activate the concealed sliding rest, which promptly slipped out from the bulkhead for Bomoor.
"To the damned fools on that intruding ship of yours," came the smooth baritone male voice over the ship's comm system, "this is Captain Vorgunn, and you are trespassing Hutt airspace. Those were just my warning shots. Leave now. Do not make us blast you out of the sky."
Amare's jaw dropped opened slightly, almost soundlessly gasping in unmistakable recognition of the man's voice, but it wasn't the one she was expecting to belong to the pirate captain responsible for the death of her adopted parents.
Rex tsked, wobbling his head in slight derision. "One of those guys, huh? Well, we got Reave nestled in the turret. I don't think their firepower is so fancy. I say we give them both barrels. With some more of your space wizard flying, I actually like our chances." He noticed the slightly surprised expressions he was getting from the others at this sudden show of bravado. "What?" He added, shrugging. "I'm learnin' to doubt you guys a little less."
Thane paid little heed to the other Human, and instead leaned forward to his apprentice, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Amare, focus."
Under normal circumstances, Amare would have welcomed Thane's touch and firm guidance. This, however, was anything but normal. Taking one off the yoke, she tapped the comlink to the pirate's frequency, her body and mind feeling heavier than ever, and her hearts racing just as fast as they did when faced the terentetek on Korriban.
"Capo...? Is that you?" she ask, her voice meek and a touch higher pitched than usual. She was that fourteen year-old girl again being torn away from the only family she had left.
The response was silence, but the channel was open, and there was a faint ambient background noise of machinery humming.
"Capo, it's me. It's--"
"Coda?" came the pirate's voice, or at least the one pretending to be one. He, too, had dropped the tough man edge to his, and there was a lighter, younger tone as well with a distinct hint of the Nautili islander accent.
"Yes!" Coda gleefully replied, tears filling her large eyes. "Stars, it's so great to hear your voice again. Why are you pretending to be Captain Vorgunn? Is everything okay? Are you in danger?"
There was a long pause, and then, "No... I'm fine. You can land on the clearing near the west entrance. We've got a lot to talk about." The line was then cut abruptly.
There were a few moments of silence as the laser fire halted and everyone in the cabin seemed to be processing this reveal.
"That... was Capo?" Bomoor spoke in a sombre, concerned tone, "I would ask if you were certain but I sense that you would recognise his voice anywhere."
"There's something sinister about all this," Mentis added, "And all too familiar. How long has your brother been with these pirates?"
"Amare," Thane repeated, using the same tone he had employed before, although he wore a particularly sceptical expression - one that his apprentice had grown to know quite well, as it typically accompanied a bold decision or grim declaration. He was stretching out in the Force, a dark focus spreading from him like slick oil slipping across a metal surface. "Think critically," he added. "Take yourself above the situation. Assess it."
Before she started to lose herself in her excitement as Coda, the dominant Amare persona found her place again under the Dark Lord's subtle influence. It was true, something was indeed amiss given that Capo was masquerading as an infamous murderer on a desolate world. It seemed ridiculous, but there had to be a reason for it. She wondered if somehow Capo broke his chains, killed the captain, and took his place. If that were so, then why not return to Glee Anselm? Sure, the old family island had been sold off to pay for the colony ship, but citizenship and victimhood as a former slave gave him options. The Nautolan Council of Elders would have gladly provided for his needs and assisted with job placement to help start his life over, and he had many useful engineering and maintenance skills to make a good living. Amare needed answers, and there was only one way to find out.
"The turbolasers around the compound have shutdown, master," Amare reported as the scanner showed the three military-grade heavy turrets retracting into silos underground. "I don't sense he's in any danger," she added to Thane. She slowed the ship over the clearing and set the computer to automatically vector the thrusters for vertical landing whilst she closed her eyes to concentrate. "I think there are others around him, but I can't feel much beyond his presence. I...I need to see him. I have to find out why he's pretending to be the same person who killed our parents. Maybe we can help him, and he can help us."
With a large tatty dark-grey poncho thrown over his black jumpsuit that reached down much of his chest and arms, with the jumpsuits having echos of a classical Old Empire uniform, Thane, now standing by the doorway again, cut a similar figure to his appearance during their fated excursion to Korriban, but his lightsaber was concealed, with only a blaster conspicuously strapped to his leg. By design, his appearance did not betray his past or current 'professions'.
"Before we head to meet Capo and his merry band," Thane began, adjusting some of the straps and equipment affixed to his excursion outfit, "I would like to know what you intend to reveal about your life in the last year - and who we all are." He looked over the faces of the other gathered crewmembers, tucked closely into the cockpit as they were, just as Reave found his way in as well. "Truth can be costly."
When the ship achieved a soft landing, Amare carefully followed the post-flight checklist instructions she had on a digital cheat sheet she prepared which appeared on the sensor display. The procedure to spool down the ship's engines and power seemed more complicated and finicky than the actual piloting of the ship.
"I grew up with him for nearly fifteen years," Amare answered whilst reaching to flip a few switches, depressing some buttons, and gradually turning a black analogue dial to the left as if she were tuning a radio. "I can't recall lying to him once that whole time, but he need not know about us just yet, especially around others we know nothing about. I'll deflect and keep the focus on him. He'll come around eventually. I just hope you'll all come to trust him in time. He is decent and hard working. You'll see."
With a brief glance at the environmental controls, eliciting a brief look of displeasure, Bomoor turned back to the Nautolan, "I hope we will find the Capo you remember, but do bear in mind how much you yourself have changed since you last stood before him as Coda. We are not static in this life, particularly when we endure hardships as Capo surely has. None of us will have any idea of his character so we will trust you to know if something is amiss."
With that, Bomoor brought his wide hands down upon his thighs with a slap that broke the tone of his previous words, "Well then," he forced a cheerful note into his tone, "Let's say that concludes the dreary Thane and Bomoor warnings portion of the expedition and prepare ourselves for setting foot on this toxic orb..."
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