[Jedi Night Adventure PbP!] Out of the Fire and Into the Ashes

[blingdenston]

SPOILERS FOR THE ZIOST QUESTLINE BEYOND THIS POST!

In tandem with the events of this thread ( /threads/3540-0.html ), the following is a Play-by-Post thread for group roleplay aboard the ship transporting the Jedi investigators from the Coruscant, to the Y'Toub System, and then to Ziost!

Introduction (and SPOILERS!) in the next post!

[blingdenston]

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjMNNpIksaI

The SITH EMPEROR has returned, and calamity has come with him!  Beginning his assault on all that lives with the former Sith homeworld of ZIOST, the Emperor's evil power has turned the planet from a frosty world of forests and cities to an ashen wasteland, devoid of all life save the sinister Sithspawn known as 'MONOLITHS'.  Spurred by the deaths of millions of unevacuated citizens, and thousands of Imperial and Republic troops, the JEDI CUSTODUM sends a group of Jedi Knights to investigate the tragedy.  Aboard an anonymous tramp freighter, they wend their way into Sith Space...

[Imazi]

[May I make a suggestion to sorta help take some of the guesswork out of how to start and what to do? Just a little bit of organizational stuff.

How about we start with all the people on the mission doing a settling in post to sorta introduce their characters and their habits. Then we use this thread to RP what happens at meal time. Mealtime would be a focal point of the time spent on the ship and ICly a good routine to help normalize the time spent on the ship. It would also be an opportunity for the people on board to eat, mingle, and discuss their thoughts on the mission at hand and serve as neutral ground.

For RPs that may happen on the ship in other places, at other times, or for other reasons, new threads can be started to contain those RPs and can be linked back in this thread with a little description on how that ties into the main storyline. This should help keep various story straight and easy to read. It may also help get things rolling. :)

What do you think?]

[blingdenston]

[Sounds fine to me!  I'll start:]

Ran-del Qardaak:

These Corellian scows, Ran-del thought, lack class, lack symmetry, and always smell like sweatsocks.  He made his way along the corridor which connected the disparate elements of the freighter, hands behind his back and mind cast across time and space.  With the ship packed so full of Jedi, the only semblance of privacy was moving from cargo hold to barracks to mess to common room and back.

He'd been in less pleasant circumstances - two days in the bilges of a Zygerrian slave-barge, a week dressed in heavy Mandalorian armor, Tipsey Kwan's sweet sixteen - but it was a matter of national pride that he treat his time in a Corellian ship as especially heinous.  He was Kuati, and his family had long served the aristocratic oligarchs who administrated Kuat Drive Yards, perhaps Corellia's greatest Republic rival in the shipbuilding business.

He smiled as he ducked underneath a sloppily exposed bundle of paralight cables.  As a child he had desired nothing more than to be free of his duty to Kuat, to be traveling the Galaxy on a path chosen by himself rather than some brocade-clad corporate Matron.  Now that he had achieved that - indeed, been honored to join the ranks of the Jedi Knights - he allowed himself the small pleasure of fond attachment to a small nationalist chauvinism.

Ran-del was shaking his head and chuckling when the onrusher came.  From around the corner, like a blur, it charged at him low and fast.  Hands still clutched behind his back, he pivoted to the left, turning his torso to give with the ambusher's rush.  It was a simple matter, especially with preternatural reflexes, to extend his left leg between the attacker's galloping stride, hook an arm around their waist and use their momentum to slam them into the wall.  If he could just keep his balance, he'd be able to follow-up as the attacker hit the floor...first, a rabbit punch to scramble their brains...then, as the right limb numbly scrambled for purchase against the bulkhead, he could lock in a Kata-Ha-Jime hold and cut off the blood to his brain...or...no...hers!

---

Ran-del was shaking his head and chuckling when the onrusher came.  From around the corner, like a blur, she stumbled towards him, tripping over another bit of paralight cable extending from the wall.  Ran-del threw himself forward, sacrificing his balance and trying to catch the Padawan around the shoulders, to save her from falling head-over-aft and taking them both to the ground.

"Careful, there...I think we should save jogging for the cargo hold, neh?"

[Imazi]

[Sorry sorry sorry… I didn’t intend to make a short story out of this post initially, but it just sorta happened. >.< tl;dr: Imazi puts away her things, has something of a panic attack, then gets her head on straight as she settles in.]
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Settling in

Having put most of her things away in the compartments set aside for her use, Imazi quickly took mental inventory to ensure that she had forgotten nothing since there would be no turning around to retrieve anything on this dangerous and serious mission. She confirmed the presence of the essential items and the items for the mission, but she stopped to focus on the few items she had brought along for her comfort.

Across the bed lay several darkened datapads containing scholarly articles and commentaries on various archaeological topics for Imazi’s later reading and entertainment, and on a little nightstand near the bed sat a lone droid arm of archaic design alongside two smooth, rounded stones. A  week-long, covert trip into imperial space loomed ahead of the small group of Jedi sent to investigate the mysterious and destructive incident on Ziost, and during that week, Imazi knew she would need to keep her mind both occupied and focused for which purpose these last items were brought along.

Running her hand slowly over one of the smooth stones she that she used during meditating, she thought about what she saw on the live feed from Ziost. The loss of life had been catastrophic and the deadened feeling through the force overwhelming. Whatever, exactly, they were heading towards now was a deadly force of cataclysmic proportions, and they were walking into it blind. Subconsciously, Imazi slid her hand around her waist to brace herself as the sickened feeling she had had at the Jedi Custodum Enclave during the live feed returned.

As she attempted to cope, the young, Human Jedi sat on the bed to prevent from falling while the wave of nausea increased. She reeled as thoughts of what lay ahead of them began to haunt her. True, she did not know the exact details of what was happening on Ziost, but she did know one very important detail. The source of the event, whatever its true nature, had been the Emperor... THE Emperor.

Imazi gave up on attempting to sit as the nausea grew, and she laid over on the bed, curled up in a ball, as she fought to resist the fear and the sickness. She had long known that the path of a Jedi was a dangerous one, and she had heard many stories of Jedi who had died during their assignments, but this was the first time that she was forced to fully confront the possibility that it may finally be her time to join the ranks of those now one with the Force.

Desperately, she tried to recall her training and remind herself that there was no death, there was only the Force. But, in the face of a potential showdown with THE Emperor of the Sith Empire, the words rang hollow. For many minutes, she wrangled with the fear, alternating between wanting to do her duty as a jedi and wanting to return home, but gradually she came to think more and more of the people she would be letting down if she did.

The people who died initially on Ziost could not be helped, they were already gone, but there were others. Those who lost loved ones and maybe even those who would lose further loved ones if the Jedi did not find a way to stop the Emperor or at least find out what he was doing. While she had no particular regard for Imperials in general, she did acknowledge that they were people like any other, and a jedi had the responsibility to protect whoever they could. Then came the realization that failure to stop the Emperor would likely result in expansion, expansion that could easily engulf the Republic if left unchecked.

Now, duty had something firm to latch onto, and it began to fight back against the fear. “There is no death; there is only the Force” may have rung hollow to her at that moment, but “lives are at stake” did not. Slowly, she uncurled from her ball as her sense of duty took over, and she reinforced one thought in her mind, “I will not let these people down. Not this time…” She closed her eyes as she laid on her bed, and she began to meditate to center herself.

This time, she would not let her insecurities or fears interfere. This time she would succeed, and this time, she would not let people down. Having once again regained control over her emotions, Imazi sat up and she took a deep breath. Despite the tenseness of the situation and the seriousness of it, she had a week to fully come to terms with what she had volunteered for. But, for now, she needed to get settled for the week ahead.

With that thought, she remembered the rest of the preparations she intended to make, and she set about making them. Quietly, she moved about the room as she prepared for departure, and idly she wondered when the droids would be preparing a meal. Now that the nausea was subsiding, she was beginning to grow hungry.

[Shaen]

Initiate Tressk Zatrin (by way of holocommunications) and 'Captain' Dreshyyk:

The towering, brown-furred Wookie serving as captain, pilot and Tressk's liason with the rest of the team busily welds some loose floor panels in the ship's cockpit. Thus far, Dreshyyk has been surprisingly welcoming to his Jedi passengers, despite Tressk's obvious reservations (particularly since the Initiate is not aboard in person)- and his intimidating stature is belied by his fairly calm demeanor.

However, despite his relaxed nature, Dreshyyk is still captain of Felsk's Fortune, and to that end he regularly asks the Jedi for assistance in maintenance, as well as keeping the freighter in a general state of cleanliness. "Earn your keep", he'd say in the almost unintelligible, growling language of his people. "I fly you, you help with repairs." But sometimes, in the rare cases in which he overhears one of his passengers slandering the ship, or alternatively, making a ruckus (such as by jogging), he raises his voice, likely frightening some of the younger Jedi in the process. "Respect the ship, or it will not respect you! If you don't want to be here, airlock is there!"

At the moment, things are fairly calm. The excitement of jumping to lightspeed wears off fairly quickly, and after the sudden 'jolt', it's business- or in this case, maintenance- as usual. "Bring me hydrospanner," Dreshyyk asks, holding out one paw as he extinguishes the welder with the other.

All the while, Tressk watches on with interest via a shoulder-mounted holocam/holocom combo. Since much of the Initiate's time is spent training, his 'presence' aboard the Fortune is fairly limited- but that does not stop him from checking in at every available moment. Though Dreshyyk is technically the ship's captain, it's quite apparent that the regular rounds he makes are done on Tressk's behalf- although upon being asked why, the wookie would simply respond by saying "Captain's duty to watch ship- make sure ship is in good shape."

"Think it's all patched up, buddy," Tressk says via com, his voice crackling as a result of the distance between him and Dreshyyk. "Let's see what the other Jedi are up to- probably scratching one of my couches out of spite." The wookie wipes his brow and takes another tour of the ship- that loose bolt will have to wait, it seems.
____________________________________________________________________________________________

Overall, aside from Dreshyyk's demands that the Jedi help him keep the ship in line, the initial part of the journey is not very eventful- but it is likely that if his passengers were not accustomed to maintaining a ship before, they will end their journey with newfound discipline in that area.

[Dassalya]

((/me promises to reply more promptly in the future.))


Dassalya Nasadee:

It was always a strange thing, to be on a starship.

As a child, the thought of flying amongst the stars had been such an unimaginable concept Dassalya had cried the first time she watched the earth fall away beneath her. Yet also, as a child somewhat older, she remembered the long journeys in the blue of hyperspace between those stars, where the hum and buzz of the ship had been so familiar it had escaped her notice.

So she was now, sitting in the cargo bay of the Felsk's Fortune, taking a moment between the duties assigned to her by Dreshyyk to centre herself and meditate. A wooden puzzle cube floated in the air before her, suspended between her outstretched hands, its pieces slowly rotating and spinning as she silently deconstructed and reconstructed the cube. The hum of the ship was familiar, calming. Its subtle motions helped lull her into a state of peaceful quietness. This was safety. This was home. Even if the smells were strange and the crew was one with which she had not travelled before.

Dassalya let her breath out softly. The cube's final piece clicked into place, and then lowered into her waiting hand. It was time to return to the rest of the ship.

Rising easily, she tucked the cube into her robes and stepped out of the cargo bay. The circular corridor around which the ship's design was built appeared empty for the moment, but she could hear the sounds of conversation not far away. She moved towards it, curious as to which of her fellow Jedi were near.

They were on a grim mission. It was a grim time. And yet, as she made her way towards the voices, Dassalya's thoughts turned to something else entirely: what would the child of Mirial say to the Jedi who now walked the star-travelling construct without fear?

It was always a strange thing, to be on a starship.

[Audaine]

[LINK, LISTEN! HEY, LINK? HELLO? LINK.]

Abethul Reena

     "Hey, Abethul!"

     "Hey, Kosh-ka?"
     Abethul had always considered herself a little adventurous at heart. The other Initiates always found her hidden in the lush overgrowth not too far from the Temple, or hidden beneath a quieted stairwell, reading or simply meditating.
     "Check this out! I think I found a lightsaber crystal."
     "No way!" Abethul gasped inwardly, stricken with a sense of awe.
     It was a beautiful little crystal. Well, it wasn't quite a crystal, so much as it was little chunk of amber. Ancient resin that had since solidified and crystallized into something akin to a gemstone.
     "Where'd you find it? Can I find some too? Can I hold it?"
     "Well-... Oh-kaay. Because you're nice to me." The chittery-voiced little verpine reached over, exending the hardened resin to the fellow youngling.
     It was so beautiful. It was roughly hewn, the sides requiring some care and smoothing until the little pebble of amber could be considered a 'true' gemstone. Abethul's eyes twinkled upon study of the offered amber, delighting the idea of possibly using it as a saber focus if she could find one of her own.
     "That's so pretty. It doesn't look like a normal crystal, though..."
     "Well—I didn't find it in a cavern... It was kinda in a tree."
     Abethul blinked to herself. With iron fortitude, she delicately reached across to feel the crystal...


     Violet eyes revealed themselves to the rusty interior of the engine room of Felsk's Fortune. Of all rooms in the vessel, this was perhaps the noisiest to occupy. The hyperdrive throbbed and hummed, and the sublight drives whirred as they waited to pull into realspace. The metal cacophony was however, in spite of the retched noise, quite relaxing to the Mirialan Padawan.
     "Careful, there...I think we should save jogging for the cargo hold, neh?" She heard, some ways outside the room she occupied.
     With a stretch, a yawn, and a spry hop to her feet, Abethul checked over all the garb she wore. She hadn't been pick-pocketed whilst meditating—good. The Padawan padded on her sandal-wearing feet into the ajoining hallway that stretched out across to the cargo bay and similarly, the engineering bay. So many little spirits moved through the ship, as did their voices which carried through the metal hallways.
     “Hellooo?” The girl called to the hallways, pondering who might answer. She could do with a social call, or a friendly face.