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Post by Deleted on Jul 7, 2016 6:49:15 GMT -8
Within Hyperspace, Departing Kessel
Common Room, Wayfarer-class transport, the Midnight Shadow
Neassa nods sluggishly as Silas fills her in on the status of the other members of the crew, the pain and morphine making her thoughts fuzzy and soft around the edges despite her best efforts to mentally waft the haze away. Her expression is both perturbed and slightly confused when Silas has finished speaking and turns his attention to Erly, and Neassa does her best to file all that has been said away so that she can sort through it all properly when not fettered by her injuries and medication. Glancing around the area and spotting the Doc leading Izzy gently towards the medbay reminds Neassa that she needs to bring Trent up to speed with that unexpected development, and Neassa groans as she shifts her weight in a short-lived attempt to pull herself up to her feet.
The anguished cry that momentarily seems to freeze time for all aboard the Wayfarer after it pierces the air and gives way to the sound of the Captain's grief-fueled weeping is heart wrenching to hear, and the image of Draykon cradling his fallen friend is even more so, prompting Neassa to look away, resting her head against the wall behind her to stare up at the ceiling overhead as she tries to prevent the sounds and the image lingerig in her head of Draykon and the Nagai from affecting her more than it already has. When she feels Silas rest a hand on her thigh, Neassa reaches down with her own gloved hand and laces her fingers in his before giving his hand a squeeze intended as much to offer him what comfort and support she can while accepting that which she believes the gesture is meant to offer her.
Loathe though she is to break the silence of the moment, Neassa clears her throat after an unknown amount of time passes, turning towards Silas to ask, "Help me up? Freeing her hand from his, Neassa reaches for her buy'ce as she explains groggily, I need'a see Weston. Haf'ta tell him 'bout Izzy."
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Preacher
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One step closer.
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Post by Preacher on Jul 9, 2016 8:00:01 GMT -8
Waving off Erly's finishing touches on his bandages, Preacher removes the needle sticking out of his forearm, and the accompanying adhesive tape. The pain-killer would have to wait. He needed to be clear-headed for this. Swatting away Erly's objections, he sat up with a groan and stood, immediately crouching down to help Neassa to her feet.
I need'a see Weston. Haf'ta tell him 'bout Izzy...
He extended a hand, and helped the injured woman to her feet. Then, we shall do it together, Warrior. They made their way through the throng, and Silas paused as they moved past Adrien, still lost in his emotion. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder -- firmly, but with no intent to harm. Captain. I'm sorry. We're headed to the bridge. Could use some words from you about our next move, when you're ready. He noticed Erly and Gem approaching slowly, cautiously. Let Jemima care for Constanza now, Captain. There's things she needs to do for her. a reassuring glance She's in good hands, Cap'n.
He didn't wait to press the issue. Knowing the level of grief Adrien was operating under, he didn't want to push too far. The man would come around in his own time. Instead, he nodded to Gem as she approached, a silent passing of the torch, as he and Neassa continued on to the bridge. As they moved through the ship, pleading hands reached out for them, calling to them in Basic, and other tongues that Silas did not understand. The bridge was sealed, locked from within, and Silas banged three times on the door for entry, Neassa at his side.
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Isabelle Eoura
The Organization
"Be one with the shadows."
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Affiliation: The Draykon Crew...for now
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Post by Isabelle Eoura on Jul 10, 2016 9:49:06 GMT -8
Hesitantly Isabelle accepted Jemima's help though her first instinct was to refuse, but she was smart enough to know that she couldn't have made it to the medbay on her own even as stubborn as she was. At first glance it was probably hard to tell the extent of her wounds, save for the blaster wound she was favoring, being that she was completely covered in various slavers' blood from her fight for freedom. She put as little weight as she could manage on Jemima's shoulders, she may have needed her help but she wouldn't be completely dependent on someone else it just wasn't her way. For a brief moment she looked back to see Neassa rise to her feet as well and the man in black hover around the crying man and then she glanced at Jemima.
Pretty, timid, kind, what in the world is she doing here of all places?
"Thank you."
She offered the faintest of smiles then looked forward toward their path to the medbay. The walk was short and mostly silent, Isabelle choosing to save her inquiries for later rather than with an audience present. When they reached the medbay Isabelle removed her weight from Jemima, despite having to use her as a crutch more and more with every step, to walk to the table herself.
"I'm fine."
She spoke sharply to the doctor's inevitable protest as she fell forward toward the examination table catching herself on the edge and then pulling herself up. She walked around the table using it to hold herself upright until she reached the other side, and leaned against the table with her back to the door.
She was probably friends with the dead girl, interesting though that she didn't act nearly as dramatically as the captain, I think that is what I heard him called, though I could be mistaken.
"I'm sorry."
Her voice had softened.
"I shouldn't have snapped at you."
She looked down at her bloody hands and then at the rags she had been using for clothes, also covered in blood. She then began to pull the rags from her body, cringing with every painful movement until she leaned nude against the table. Her skin was bruised in several places all with differing degrees of aging. Remarkably enough however there were very few scars that could be seen. She covered herself by crossing her arms over her chest feigning modesty as she waited for the doctor to begin treating her wounds.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2016 11:23:48 GMT -8
Wayfarer-class transport, the Midnight Shadow - Cockpit
Biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying out when Silas helps her to her feet, Neassa lets her EE-3 drop into a front chest carry position as she leans heavily against her comrade to keep from falling. Forgetting about her buy'ce, held in her hand at her side, due to the effort required just to put one foot in front of the other, Neassa nods to silently thank Silas for lending her a hand, and, leaning heavily against the wall outside of the cockpit's hatch, catches her breath while waiting for Weston to let them inside.
Pale and sweaty, Neassa manages to look and sound as stoic as ever when, after the hatch is opened and she and Silas step inside, she drops wearily into the co-pilot's seat before she falls down, and starts speaking before the pain and drugs surge upward again. "Don't want to hear it, she begins, lifting a hand to try and prevent Weston from going off on a tangent about the crew's injuries and losses, Gotta decide some things now, for everyone. Shaking her head, trying to stay focused, Neassa says, Draykon might be . . . preoccupied, grieving for Anzhelina, but we need a plan. Have to decide where we'll take them, the ones we've rescued. Honoghr, or maybe someplace in the Core should offer them sanctuary, so I say we set course for there. One of them. Blinking, her expression momentarily puzzled as she remembers that she had something else to tell Weston, something important, Neassa takes a moment to recall, Izzy, she was there. She's here, on the ship, now. Hurt, or looks hurt, could be an act, she's always acting, might be another role for her to play. Remember how she . . . shaking her head, Neassa says with a bit of desperation bleeding into her tone, Not sure I can watch her like someone should watch her, so you have to do it until I can again. Strange to run into her now, right? Could be looking for us, to finish what she started, if she was the one that started the things. You know what things, the things before. Watch her for us, yeah? And remember she lies, all the time, about everything. Don't, Neassa's eyelids begin to grow heavy, and she has to fight the urge to just let herself lapse into the relief unconsciousness would offer from the pain and the struggle to keep it from reducing her to something weak and soft, forget that, ever."
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Trent Weston
The Organization
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Affiliation: These guys
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Post by Trent Weston on Jul 18, 2016 13:20:21 GMT -8
The pilot remained absent from the turmoil down the hall, opting instead to stay in the cockpit so that he could try to figure out a path forward while keeping a sharp eye on the radar for pirates. So far he had eliminated about a dozen or so planets from his list of places to drop off a bunch of slaves no questions asked and of course he wanted to stay away from the Core Worlds if at all possible given his history with the Republic. Of course there was always Honoghr that would be safe, but then again someone had tracked him there that had intended to kill him before he joined up with this crew so that seemed to be out of the question as well. It was about the time that he heard the distinct clank of a knock on the bulkhead door.He switched off the lock and opened to door then swiveled his chair around to see Neassa drop into a chair. "What happened? I told you-" He was silenced by her as effectively as ever before she started in with her plan.
"Anzhelina is gone?" He said with a rather somber tone, he didn't know her well, or at all really, but she seemed like good people and he could tell by the way that she spoke about the captain that she really cared for him and the fact that Adrien was unable to be here due to grief told Trent that the feelings were mutual. His heart felt for the two.
He cleared his throat and moved on, listening to her plan and nodding as she went on. "I'd rather not go to Honoghr, I've actually narrowed our choices down to two, Naboo and Umgul with preference to the latter. I want to avoid as may questions as possible and I'd rather not venture too far into Republic space.
The rest of what she had to say truly shocked Trent, which he liked to think was fairly difficult to do. "Izzy? As in Isabelle Eoura?" The rest of what Neassa said was more than he needed to answer his question and give him fifty more in the process. "What was she doing there? Which side was she on? And to what end if she's faking an injury? He simply nodded as she finished speaking to let Neassa know that he would keep an eye on her before he looked at Silas for his opinion on the subject, or any subject really.
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Preacher
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Post by Preacher on Jul 18, 2016 15:47:18 GMT -8
Silas listened as Trent explained their current predicament, even as Neassa grew weaker by the heartbeat. He didn't know what to make of any of this. Weston spoke of planets he'd never heard of, places he'd never been to, Republics that were as foreign to him as many characters in the galactic basic script were. Added to that, apparently one of their slave / survivors was known to Neassa and Weston -- and she posed some form of threat. She must have been the one the Preacher had entreated to drop her weapons... the one with a dark look in her eye (on the receiving end of too much from her captors, or something else?) Neassa's head all but lolled to one side as her strength ebbed, but she was as tough as they come, wouldn't give in to fatigue or pain. That was to be respected. He liked her more with each facet of her persona that was revealed to him. He steadied her, before returning Trent's gaze.
I know nothing of these places you speak of, Weston. I would ask the Captain his preference, were I in your boots, but as for my own self -- I trust in your navigation, and that you will not lead us astray amongst the stars. The Captain is in the hold, along with most of the refugees. He is grief-stricken, and I do not know when we may expect his return to form. The death of an old friend has hit him particularly hard. a pause If I were to head for the infirmary, to seek further "treatment" for my injuries, and to keep watchful eye on this Isabelle... what need I know of her? Is she a danger? Does she fear or have reason to stand in judgement over you who know her? another pause, during which he is contemplative ...to Trent You need to seek direction for this vessel. Find the Captain. to Neassa You need some rest. holding up a finger at her silent protest You're no good to us lame or dead, soldier. This is as quiet a place as any aboard the ship. And safe. I will head for Medical and observe this Isabelle. Gain what knowledge I can. to Trent Let me know when Adrien has given us a go-ahead on your heading, and if I find out anything of importance, I will inform you both.
Silas looks back and forth at the two faces on the flight deck, awaiting their reactions. He is fully aware that they are all flying blind, to one degree or another. He can see the strain of the day etched onto both of their visages, and in that moment, feels a connection of brotherhood forming between them all. He wondered if the others from his Order would find this place, and this empty blackness, as challenging and troubling as he does, and in that moment, Silas of Biul was certain he was where he was supposed to be.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 24, 2016 17:57:54 GMT -8
Wayfarer-class transport, the Midnight Shadow - Cockpit
Neassa does her best to remain alert and attentive enough to follow Trent and Silas even though it is becoming increasingly difficult to resist the temptation to surrender to her body's demand that she finally slip completely into unconsciousness, and feels an odd sense of pride when she manages to not only keep from losing the battle against unconsciousness, but to also stay abreast of the discussion.
Addressing Trent's contributions first, Neassa holds up a bloody, gloved hand and says wearily, "Gonna have to vote Naboo. Might be wanted on Umgul for a bit of work I did there not long ago, be better if we avoid it. Big misunderstanding," Neassa says while looking towards Silas, not sure why it seems so important to make sure he does not misunderstand the reasons she would prefer to avoid Umgul. Neassa is fairly certain that she was never identified while operating on Umgul, and in any event had only done some surveillance work, but given that she later found out that she had not been helping the Mist Government as she had been led to believe when initially hired, would prefer not to endanger the crew if the Sector Rangers investigating the mess her work had been entangled with had ever identified her.
Nodding to confirm that Izzy is exactly who Trent guessed, Neassa shakes her head as she says, "Not sure why she was there, but it looked like she was among the slaves. Could be a trick though, to make us think that finding her there is a coincidence. Knowing she sounds paranoid, Neassa tries to sum up her fears succinctly rather than rambling as the drugs and exhaustion make it easy to begin doing, Could be she thinks one of us, or both of us working together, were behind the way things went before when we were all together. Hoping that Trent follows her line of reasoning as well as to begin answering some of the questions Silas had asked of her, Neassa turns to face the Preacher and says, She doesn't have any reason to stand in judgement, no, but she might not know she doesn't, if that makes sense. Long, complicated story, but let's just say that something happened to separate us, and it's possible that someone in our fellowship betrayed it, and we can't be sure it wasn't her. Shaking her head as she plays back what she said and realizes it may not have been as clear as she had intended, Neassa says, Just watch her. May be a coincidence, and she may be completely innocent, but . . . Leaving it at that, Neassa sits up straighter in the seat, unconsciously reaching for her carbine to hold it to her chest as, her eyelids beginning to flutter as they grow heavier and heavier, she agrees with Silas, Need some rest. I'll stay here, hold the position, wait for you to report back."
As her eyes close, Neassa tells Silas in a near whisper as unconsciousness threatens to steal over her once more, "Watch her close, Preacher. And have the doc look you over, you're no good lame or dead either, you know."
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Trent Weston
The Organization
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Affiliation: These guys
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Post by Trent Weston on Jul 26, 2016 10:39:47 GMT -8
This was a point of contention between Neassa and Trent, one of the few. Neassa would counsel caution and suspicion when it came to Isabelle while Trent would be more inclined to advise trusting her as much as she would allow. Isabelle is a complex person but not a bad person as far as Trent could tell in his experience with her. She did bad things sometimes but so did everyone on this ship as well as everyone associated with the project. "Preacher wait." He said in an even tone as he stepped toward the man, placing himself just between the Preacher and Neassa. "Don't go in there thinking you're dealing with your average person. Isabelle is...unique. He paused and looked over his shoulder at Neassa and then back to Silas. "Neassa isn't wrong, Isabelle is manipulative and dangerous, and she will be both if you go in there with a preconceived notion that she isn't to be trusted. She can read people, better than most," A compliment from a Lorridan famed with their skills in kinetic communication, "and she has a fun time making a game of it." He stepped back and pivoted toward Neassa. "It really should be me going, you and I both know it. He isn't suited for her game." He looked over his shoulder at Silas as he walked toward the control panel. "No offense."
As he reached the helm he began downloading drift charts for their course to Naboo and prepping the ship for the jump to hyperspace at the captain's order. "Let me explain." He felt that he wasn't literal enough for Silas to understand, which was part of the problem. "Isabelle likes to toy with people, she likes to play games when she talks to people so she can get the upper hand and control the conversation. He was quick in finishing his preparations so he turned and leaned on the panel as his charts finished downloading. "Most of the time you won't even know you're playing, no one really gets the luxury of knowing before going in. She will probably be playing some sort of role, she will lie to and manipulate you, but that is because she doesn't trust you." He glanced at Neassa, partially to let her know that he was trying to remind her of that as well and partially check up on her. "You're going to be the first opportunity to possibly get her to be our ally, maybe even stay on the crew with us." The panel notifies him that the charts are complete and he turns make sure that they were live uploaded to the navicomputer, to which he displays a small smirk at the success and then grabs a bottle of water for Neassa. "My best advice is to go in there thinking of her as one of the rescued slaves and nothing else because we don't want the alternative to her joining the crew."
He walks over to Neassa and kneels beside her as he opened her water and held it up for her to either take or let her drink with his help. "Drink Shepherd." His tone was low but he realized that he had slipped into habit by calling Neassa by her code name, he hoped that it would be looked over or unheard by the Preacher.He looked up at Silas. "Just don't go in there and interrogate her. She's only dangerous when she sees you as an enemy. Don't make yourself one."
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Adrien Draykon
Retired High Councilor 
The Smuggler King
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Post by Adrien Draykon on Aug 7, 2016 22:21:24 GMT -8
All of their words had fallen on deaf ears as Adrien cradled his friend's lifeless body and mumbled incoherently in her ear pleading with her to wake up. It seemed as though he was trying to bring her back to life through shear stubbornness and willpower. Death was something that Adrien was familiar with, it was something that he never thought much of because in this business it was part of the day to day, but this he wasn't equipped for. Connie was everything to him, not just an employee, not just a friend, she was family. He thought of her like a sister and over the years they had been to hell and back together and they always made it through. Why should this be any different? How could it be?
And as he held her tightly against his chest he, for a moment, thought he felt a heartbeat, and he perked up, "Connie?" He held her head in his hand out in front of him so that they were face to face and his eyes quickly darted looking over her face looking for any sign of movement. "Help." He said quietly, barely above a whisper. "Help." Louder. "Help!" Louder still. "Somebody help!" He shouted as he started to rise to his feet with her in his arms. He didn't even notice that Erly was standing right next to him until he was on his feet. "Blondie I need your help! Follow me." He said almost frantically as he pushed his way through toward the medbay. "Stay with me. Stay with me." He mumbled to Connie as he rushed right past the medbay and into the main hold.
As he entered the hold he turned right and made a bee line right to Connie's cabin where he laid her on the bed and rushed back out before Erly would have had the chance to get inside. "Hurry up Blondie! We're looking for a big crate with "Dendratis Biological Exports, Incorporated" stamped on the side." And with that he started to search for the crate. The hold was large and there were quite a few bunches of cargo scattered around but finding the crate should be easy enough with two sets of eyes.
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Jemima Sacharo
Member
“I can't lose any more of you. I just can't!”
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Aug 14, 2016 5:21:24 GMT -8
Jemima's mind was doing so much racing, she finally lapsed into what she did back when she had been the sole escapee from the doomed medical ship that had been waylaid after it left Coruscant: she retreated into herself. Some people called it an implausible deniability, or literal insanity, but the young doctor could not otherwise cope with the horrors she had been beset with. As she bore the weight of the woman, she simply...let go of her thoughts, her feelings, and her grief. She managed a genuine, if weak, smile, which might come off as strange given the current circumstances and situation. The flame-haired woman was very independent, and clearly did not like having to depend on anyone for anything. The biologist took it in a stride, even when she snapped at her that she was fine - when clearly she was not - and moved with serpentine speed to help support her once again.
When the woman apologized, Jemima shrugged lightly, "It's fine. Given the situation, I would say I'm a little surprised you're not more upset."
She quickly cleaned herself and applied clean gloves before retrieving her tools. When she turned around, she found her patient...very ready for treatment. Blinking once without expression, the young doctor got to work. She was only glad it wasn't worse. As tempted as she was to respond to the captain, she stayed focused on the woman first. No mistakes were to be allowed. Only after she was done did she look up and tilt her head, curious about the activity beyond the med bay.
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Erly Ryzer
Member
Chilli Cheese Fries, please...
Posts: 181
Affiliation: CorSec (Formerly)
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Post by Erly Ryzer on Aug 14, 2016 8:28:24 GMT -8
Within Hyperspace, Departing Kessel
Common Room, Wayfarer-class transport, the Midnight ShadowErly stiffened when he said the Nagai's name, or nickname. It wasn't correct by her analysis. His tone was one filled with sudden hope. But what hope was it that he found? It wasn't that she didn't want him to have that. But it had already been so long, and even in the chaos, she had already heard enough in Jemima's exchange with Krystal to gather a very simple fact."Captain..." Erly began."Adrien..." she tried again."Captain..." She started at his volume, and he was on his feet. She stepped back a little to avoid collision. As he spoke, her eyes widened. Did he detect something that even Jemima had missed? "Captain, what?" He was darting past her, and she took a split second to consider the choices, "Draykon...Draykon!" She followed after him frantically.
For every one stride of his, she had to take three just to keep pace. He was in Connie's cabin and out before she was even close to the door and again had to jump aside to avoid crashing into the man. "Whooph!" Frantically chasing him into the cargo bay, her pet nuna leapt up from their nest when she entered and started following her around as she moved to look for the specified crate. It wasn't long before her keen eyes spotted the one Adrien was talking about and she called out, "Captain! This one?"
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Zalor Anneri
Crew of the Wayward Son
There will be justice for Theed. Trust my anger.
Posts: 296
Affiliation: None (currently) - Jedi Shadows(formerly)
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Post by Zalor Anneri on Aug 14, 2016 21:41:12 GMT -8
Somewhere in Outer Rim Space, along the Perlemian Trade Route
50 kilometers from the Terrabin Space Colony
The heavily-modified Mobquet-class Medium Transport,'The Farlan Flyer'was right on cue to one of its most regular clients along the Perlimian Trade Route, the Terrabin Space Colony, home to the descendants of human and Duros refugees from the Clone Wars. The Terrabins originally had discovered what was an abandoned Republic space station from the Revanite era, repaired and eventually refurbished the station into a livable residence in the Outer Rim, far away from the war. Much hadn't changed for the colonists in the years since, except for their need for a variety of quality supplies, from food to repair components, at affordable prices, something that the Farlan Flyer's suppliers were more than happy to provide on a regular basis.
=Marvis=
The captain of the freighter, Marvis Renald, a fifty-something man with black hair (along with a few greying strands near the front) stood on the bridge of the old but reliable ship, watching as they dropped out of hyperspace to see a familiar sight just fifty kilometers ahead of them. "Alright, people. We made it to Terrabin, time to go to work! Mute..."The captain turned to the ship's communications officer, Niagi Miako, a man known affectionately by the crew as 'Mute' for his lack of social skills. "Let 'em know we're here."
=Mute=
An older man, in his sixties and a native of Coruscant, nodded before cuing the ship's comm channel to the station just ahead of them. ::Terriban Colony, this is the Farlan Flyer, on time for our 1600 delivery.::
=Terriban Station=
The station was prompt with its response, as always...
::Acknowledged, Farlan Flyer, you are clear to dock at Dock 2 - we will have receiving crews standing by.::
=Marvis=
The captain smiled, as if unusually pleased at the prompt response by the station.
"That's it? No waiting in line - no 'extra precautions due to marauder attacks', no 'malfunctioning tug droids' or other miscellaneous, arbitrary complications? Wow." The captain turned and looked at a beautiful, forty-something brunette wearing a matching uniform to the captain's... "Easy day for us today."
=Alexi=
Alexi Farlan, the ship's First Officer, smiled sweetly back at the captain and nodded. "Lady Luck is smiling on us today, indeed."
=Marvis=
Marvis seemed to wince in response to Alexi's comment, but he quickly shrugged it off and smiled. "Well, I wouldn't call it that, but...at any rate..." Marvis walked up to the cockpit area of the bridge, stood behind the pilot, a young thirty-two year old Echani, and patted him on the back. "Okay, Zeron - you know what to do."
=Zeron=
Zeron Attari, the ship's silver-haired pilot, gave the captain an over-the-top salute as he punched in a few commands on the ship's navigational controls. "Aye aye, Captain. My first paycheck in weeks, here we come."
Although Zeron was brash and obnoxious, he had a steady hand on the ship's controls at all times and gently guided the freighter into the station's second dock with ease.
=Alexi=
When they neared the station, Alexi turned and began to walk out of the bridge to the ship's cargo bay. "I suppose I'll get the troops in order."
=Marvis=
The captain nodded in appreciation. "You volunteering to oversee the unloading? Today is a day of miracles, indeed. Just watch the Jedi kid - he's been known to fool around a bit lately."
=Alexi=
Alexi frowned before stopping in front of the blast doors leading to the cargo bay. "Which one? Last I checked, we had six of them on board."
=Marvis=
Marvis turned to face his First Officer with a grin."Oh, trust me, A'lex...you'll know."
=Alexi=
The woman seemed satisfied by response. Although her confused frown only grew, she turned and exited the bridge briskly.
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Zalor Anneri
Crew of the Wayward Son
There will be justice for Theed. Trust my anger.
Posts: 296
Affiliation: None (currently) - Jedi Shadows(formerly)
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Post by Zalor Anneri on Aug 14, 2016 22:40:01 GMT -8
Somewhere in Outer Rim Space, along the Perlemian Trade Route
Inside 'The Farlan Flyer' Cargo Bay
=Alexi=
Alexi had only gotten halfway down the hall to the ship's cargo bay when she was met by a cargo bay crewmember walking toward her, appearing very frustrated.
=Farlan Crewman=
The crewman approached the First Mate with a clearly disgusted look on his face. He stopped right in front of her and took his hat off. "Commander...Commander, he's doing it again."
=Alexi=
Alexi stopped just enough to respond to the crewman's disgust with a look of utter confusion. She motioned for him to follow her to the cargo bay, and they started walking towards it while talking. "Slow down - who's doing what again?"
=Farlan Crewman=
The crewman took off after Alexi, uttering a nervous chuckle in response. "You have to see it to believe it. I can't explain it."
=Alexi=
When she and the other crewmember finally walked through the blast doors to the ship's cargo bay, Alexi's jaw dropped when she saw it.
The entire ship's cargo, as well as the tugs to carry them out into their client's receiving areas, the tug's droid operators, and pretty much everything inside the cargo bay was floating, high above the floor of the cargo bay, almost to the ceiling. Since Alexi knew for a fact that the Farlan Flyer's artificial gravity generator was working properly, seeing as how she and all the rest of the crew were able to walk upright, and - in fact - many other crew members were standing on the cargo bay floor smiling, laughing, and pointing at the spectacle, Alexi was obviously shocked by the site.
"What....in the name of Coruscant...." The first mate uttered aloud.
=Farlan Crewman=
"He's been doing it ever since we dropped out of hyperspace and came out here to unload."The crewman shook his head and folded his arms in bewilderment.
=Alexi=
Alexi frowned in confusion. "Who's been doing this?"
=Xera=
"Oni-Li. Who else?" A young, blue-skinned Twi'lek girl of about 22 years old approached Alexi. She, unlike the other crew members, was wearing what appeared to be a light Jedi vest and britches, which clearly made her stand out from the others. "He's been bored ever since we left Kamino, and he's been driving us nuts. We can't get any work done."
=Alexi=
Alexi turned to face the Twi'lek girl, whom she was familiar with as one of the young Jedi the crew had picked up from Endor four years ago. "Where is he?"
=Xera=
The Twi'lek girl pointed up at the largest cargo container. "Up there."
=Oni-Li=
When the crew looked up at the cargo crate, atop it stood a young, 25-year old, brown haired and blue eyed human Jedi by the name of Oni-Li Berrin, who, unlike Xera, was wearing a Farlan Flyer uniform. He stood on the edge of the floating cargo crate with his arms folded and his eyes closed. However, when he heard Xera mention his name, he looked down at Alexi and the others, smiled widely and waved. "Hey, Alexi. Hey, guys..."
=Alexi=
The First Officer's look of bewilderment hadn't yet faded, even though she was familiar with the Jedi's ability to move things by sheer willpower. "What are you doing up there, Oni?"
=Oni-Li=
The young man's goofy smile didn't fade. "The crew didn't think I could lift everything in the entire hangar bay by myself. There was 200 credits on the line, ma'am - I couldn't pass it up."
=Xera=
The Twi'lek girl shouted at her fellow Jedi companion in frustration.
"Oni, we're at the station. We have to unload all this cargo now."
=Oni-Li=
The young man seemed disappointed. "What, we're there already? Aww..."
Slowly but surely, everything in the cargo bay began to slow drift back down to the floor until it was all roughly where it had been before. Once back on the ground, Oni-Li jumped off the cargo crate and landed squarely next to the First Officer.
"Well, it was fun while it lasted."
=Alexi=
Although she wasn't good at it, and she knew she wasn't, Alexi turned to Oni-Li and attempted to appear stern and cross at the young man. "Oni-Li, I know you miss being a Jedi, but we took you and your companions in as a good-will gesture. In return, you agreed to work for us, and to take your jobs as seriously as you took your Jedi Shadows jobs."
=Xera=
Oni's Twi'lek friend did a much, much better job of appearing cross as she chimed in. "Yeah, Oni. It's time to go to work - you need to stop screwing around. You're supposed to be in charge of the unloading team!"
=Oni-Li=
Oni-Li breathed in a deep sigh, obviously distraught. "You're right, Miss Alexi. It's just that - Sayra taught us that we're still supposed to be honing our skills in case we ever need to use them for anything, like if we get ourselves in trouble, or if the First Order finds us and starts hunting us down. I wanna be ready in case that happens."
Oni-Li turned and glared at Xera. "And besides - Sayra's supposed to be in charge when we're at a job location, and she's not here. Where is she, anyway?"
=Xera=
Xera's frustration seemed to fade. Her attitude became suddenly very solemn as she reached out to the Force to find their leader - Sayra Nur. When she found her, she could feel - sadness, frustration. "I think I have a pretty good idea of where she might be, actually."
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Zalor Anneri
Crew of the Wayward Son
There will be justice for Theed. Trust my anger.
Posts: 296
Affiliation: None (currently) - Jedi Shadows(formerly)
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Zalor Anneri on Aug 15, 2016 7:06:59 GMT -8
Somewhere in Outer Rim Space, along the Perlemian Trade Route
Inside 'The Farlan Flyer', Officer's Quarters
=Sayra=
Sayra Nur sat on her bed, datapad in hand, in the most visibly melancholy state she didn't know she was even capable of as an accomplished Jedi, and scanned through the information on her device. She sighed, distraught. It had been four years since she and her friends had lost their home on the Forest Moon of Endor. Although Marvis Renald and his crew of the 'Farlan Flyer' were kind enough to take in her and a few others from her secret Order, and give them new lives, Sayra insisted on searching for anyone else that might still be alive.
And chief amongst those missing whom she sought was Zalor Anneri.
The very last time she saw him, four years ago, he was getting on board a shuttle while First Order ships bombarded their Enclave on Endor. She remembered wanting to follow him, but things were happening so fast during the attack that saw their Enclave lost, she couldn't remember how he ever got away from her and the four other Padawans with her. She found out later that the First Order had managed to hunt down and kill many of those Jedi Shadows who fled the Forest Moon, but she could only get a few confirmations of deaths amongst the Shadows, and Zalor wasn't one of them. And that meant, to her, that he had to be out there. Somewhere. In the galaxy. Still alive. Maybe he was hiding. Maybe the First Order knew how powerful he was and he had to keep hidden at all times to avoid blowing his cover. There had to be a reason he hadn't tried to contact her, she thought. She missed Zalor so much - she missed his companionship and his heart for good so much, that - in her heart, him being dead would've been the worst thing ever.
She came to an interactive holo-doc she had written, with all the names of the Jedi Shadows and their non-Jedi affiliates, on her datapad. As she did every day before the crew's first job of the day, she scanned over it, and then she voice-activated its search feature...
"Datapad...update current status of all former Jedi Shadows personnel."
Almost immediately, the datapad spit out a list of names and information corresponding to them, accompanied by the datapad's voice reading off the information to her...
- Grandmaster Vilor - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Master Erris Anneri - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Master Chris Nial - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Master Vox Danteen - status: presumed deceased, unable to verify
- Master Tresk Fay'lya - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Master Ashili Vin - status: presumed deceased, unable to verify
- Master Nero Vaalair - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Master Steel Quinlan - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Master Aekor - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
The datapad listed off almost a hundred other names, some who were confirmed dead, most others, though, who were MIA...then it listed off the last few names...
- Tanara Ajahn - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Vincent Darklighter - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown
- Evan Azzameen - status: active, Captain of the ship Otana
- Asha Tailarani - status: active, First Mate of the ship Otana
- Sayra Nur - status: active, Lt. Commander of the ship Farlan Flyer
- Oni-Li Berrin - status: active, crewmember of the ship Farlan Flyer
- Xera Salla - status: active, crewmember of the ship Farlan Flyer
- Alia Nur - status: active, crewmember of the ship Farlan Flyer
- Jasso Li - status: active, crewmember of the ship Farlan Flyer
Finally, as Sayra had programmed the holo-doc to do, the datapad listed off one final name - this one, accompanied by a picture of the man with the name...
- Zalor Anneri - status: MIA, current whereabouts unknown, last known coordinates: Mid Rim space, near Dressel, time since last signal: 3 years, 9 months, 26 days
The picture of Zalor that had accompanied the data was one Sayra had taken with him, back on Naboo, on the bridge in front of the waterfall in the city of Dee'ja Peak. They had some downtime between missions, and the happy twosome, in a relationship, decided to escape the galaxy and go have some fun. It was one of Sayra's fondest memories of Zalor. Every time she looked at it, she tried to hold back tears, clinging onto hope that he was still alive and that they would return to this place together once more.
Sayra had searched near Dressel, where Zalor's ship's last signal was, according to her data, but she was unable to locate him. By the time she had gotten there, he was already gone. Attempts to pick up his trail from there were frustratingly unsuccessful, and she had all but given up hope, save for the gut feeling in her stomach, or traces of his presence she could feel through the Force, Sayra didn't care which - that kept her strong and kept her searching for him while working for her and her companions' new employers.
=Alia=
"You still miss him, don't you?"
=Sayra=
Sayra was startled, but only for a second, when her younger sister, Alia, a former Padawan and a silver-haired Echani just like her, stood in the doorway of the Officer's quarters. Alia was wearing a crewman's uniform, and she leaned against the doorway, seeming sympathetic to her sister's feelings.
Sayra put the datapad away and quickly responded... "Zalor's out there, Alia. He's out there, somewhere, I know he is."
=Alia=
Alia nodded in agreement. She could feel her sister's frustation and sadness, and she attempted to comfort her.
"Of course he is. He's Zalor Anneri - if any of the other missing Shadows could survive out there for this long, it'll be him. We will find him, Sayra - you'll see."
=Sayra=
Sayra Nur nodded, and wiped a tear from her left eye before getting up off her bed and approaching her sister.
"So - what's the news? ETA on our arrival to Terrabin?"
=Alia=
"Actually, we're there already. We just dropped out of hyperspace five minutes ago. We're gonna start unloading cargo, and you're needed in the Cargo Bay."
=Sayra=
"Right. Let's go." Sayra grabbed her Officer's hat from off her bed and put it on her silver-haired head. She never, in her life, anticipated ending up as a cargo freighter crewman, let alone an officer, but at least she was in a position of power and was able to call the shots from time to time, and that suited Sayra, a natural-born leader, just fine. When she was ready and emotionally composed, she and her sister made their way to the Cargo Bay of the Farlan Flyer.
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Isabelle Eoura
The Organization
"Be one with the shadows."
Posts: 192
Affiliation: The Draykon Crew...for now
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Isabelle Eoura on Aug 15, 2016 20:38:35 GMT -8
Midnight Shadow Medical Bay
Jemima's mind was doing so much racing, she finally lapsed into what she did back when she had been the sole escapee from the doomed medical ship that had been waylaid after it left Coruscant: she retreated into herself. Some people called it an implausible deniability, or literal insanity, but the young doctor could not otherwise cope with the horrors she had been beset with. As she bore the weight of the woman, she simply...let go of her thoughts, her feelings, and her grief. She managed a genuine, if weak, smile, which might come off as strange given the current circumstances and situation. The flame-haired woman was very independent, and clearly did not like having to depend on anyone for anything. The biologist took it in a stride, even when she snapped at her that she was fine - when clearly she was not - and moved with serpentine speed to help support her once again.
When the woman apologized, Jemima shrugged lightly, "It's fine. Given the situation, I would say I'm a little surprised you're not more upset." She quickly cleaned herself and applied clean gloves before retrieving her tools. When she turned around, she found her patient...very ready for treatment. Blinking once without expression, the young doctor got to work. She was only glad it wasn't worse. As tempted as she was to respond to the captain, she stayed focused on the woman first. No mistakes were to be allowed. Only after she was done did she look up and tilt her head, curious about the activity beyond the med bay.
"I don't get upset anymore."
She spoke quietly and thoughtfully as she stared at nothing across the room.
I've been though worse.
She caught the doctor pause as she turned to see Isabelle standing there naked and she adjusted her hands to cover herself better, well at least as best as she could, mainly for the doctor's benefit.
Whoops. I've made her uncomfortable.
When the doctor began Isabelle winced with the first touch of the wound and then sat virtually unphased by the rest of the treatment, perhaps due to the fact that she had become distracted by the noise coming from outside which seemed to be over almost as suddenly as it started. It also didn't take long for the doctor to patch her up which Isabelle immediately looked over.
"Do you think it will scar?"
She asked as she looked at the doctor.
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Preacher
Member
One step closer.
Posts: 318
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Preacher on Aug 17, 2016 17:25:50 GMT -8
...Isabelle is a complex person but not a bad person as far as Trent could tell in his experience with her. She did bad things sometimes but so did everyone on this ship as well as everyone associated with the project. "Preacher wait, don't go in there thinking you're dealing with your average person. Isabelle is...unique. Neassa isn't wrong, Isabelle is manipulative and dangerous, and she will be both if you go in there with a preconceived notion that she isn't to be trusted. She can read people, better than most," A compliment from a Lorridan famed with their skills in kinetic communication, "and she has a fun time making a game of it." He stepped back and pivoted toward Neassa. "It really should be me going, you and I both know it. He isn't suited for her game." He looked over his shoulder at Silas as he walked toward the control panel. "No offense." Interesting that in your experience, Trent Weston, there is only one ' alternative to her joining the crew.' As if it's play her game, or eat a bullet. No middle ground. He turns and makes for the door. If half of what you say is true... lying, manipulating, controlling... what kind of an ally is that? The hydraulic door hissed open... Dangerous? You don't know me very well. ... and shut. In the hallway, the din was quieting down a little, as refugees found their place and began tending to their own, settling in as best they could for the journey ahead. The walk to the med-lab was a short one, and not that Silas needed an ulterior motive for being there -- as banged up and injured as he appeared -- something fresh wouldn't hurt. A willing participant was not difficult to find, and close by, Silas spotted an alien man bleeding from a laceration on his forearm that should -- all things being equal -- have warranted stitches. But seeing the sheer number of wounded, and the severity of those whose need was greater, this man had sat unattended to. Preacher opened his shirt and held his breath as he tore off the freshly-applied bacta patch from his shoulder, reopening the wound and allowing the blood to run freely, and handed it to the alien. Here -- you need it more'n I do. The man replied in a patois that Preacher caught maybe 40% of, but the gratitude was clear. He rounded the entryway into the med-lab unceremoniously and plopped down on a nearby exam table, pulling a triage cart closer to rummage for supplies with a bloody hand. He nodded a greeting at Jemima. Doctor. There was the briefest hint of acknowledgement of the patient currently being seen to by Dr. Sacharo, and then Preacher went back to rummaging, coming up with a styptic applicator. |
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Adrien Draykon
Retired High Councilor
The Smuggler King
Posts: 720
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Adrien Draykon on Aug 18, 2016 1:09:17 GMT -8
Within Hyperspace, Departing Kessel
Cargo Bay Main Hold, Wayfarer-class transport, the Midnight ShadowFrantically chasing him into the cargo bay, her pet nuna leapt up from their nest when she entered and started following her around as she moved to look for the specified crate. It wasn't long before her keen eyes spotted the one Adrien was talking about and she called out, "Captain! This one?" Adrien in the midst of walking through some of the bigger containers in the hold hears Erly call to him and comes running. "That's the one. Good work Blondie." He rushes over to the computer terminal to input an order for the CLL-M2 ordnance lifter droid to move move the container out into the open and then he heads into Connie's room to retrieve her body. The large droid is quick to it's work and has the container out by the time Adrien returns with Connie in his arms. Once he reaches the crate he inputs a ten digit code into a key pad and the container pops open as Adrien steps back. "Break the sides down but don't damage the product." He orders the droid who promptly obeys as it is told and tears the container's side walls down until all four lie on the floor surrounding a brand new cryotank. With a confident grin Adrien walked up to the machine and opened the lid, making sure not to drop Connie in the process. The supercooled air flowed out like smoke as the lid raised, and after letting the air temperature even out Adrien stepped forward and placed Connie's body into the machine and knelt beside her. "You have to stay in here for a little while," he whispered reassuringly in her ear as he rubbed her hair, "until I find a way to br-" he paused, catching himself almost admitting what everyone else already knew but he just wouldn't accept, "to make you better." He corrected and then kissed her forehead and closed the lid latching it shut. He turned to Erly. "Behind the wall over there is a secret compartment that I use for smuggling larger items of high value. Open it, clear it, and place her inside. And tell no one, this is need to know." The order was given with authority and urgency. "And that list includes the two of us unless I say otherwise. This is Constanza Vinti, you knew her by an alias, I know her as a sister. She is family to me and you helped me save her no questions asked. You've earned my full and complete trust today and after this I'm in your debt. That being said, with Connie out of commission I need someone I can rely on and I'd like that to be you." He stood back and took a breath and waited for her response. It didn't even occur to him in the moment that he probably sounded like a crazy person and looked that way too, but perhaps she would understand his position, though there were definitely others on the crew who would not. There is a fine line between hope and false hope and Adrien is walking it.
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Krystal "Meony" Tancredi
Member
Figuring things out...
Posts: 239
Affiliation: Anything that abhors violence
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Krystal "Meony" Tancredi on Aug 18, 2016 7:34:02 GMT -8
Thank You. Thank You Thank You Thank You Thank You. Uhm...y'know...I always like to pray for hope and something better than death and loss. If there was anything from the Nagai, I must have missed it, and so did Jemima, don't know how that'd be possible between Jemima's knowledge, experiences, my scan-capable eyes, my superior hearing, and the fact I can feel a person's heartbeat through my fingertips, while touching their toes. BUT, I am a stupid stubborn believer of miracles and the impossible.
If there's any question as to why, I need only look in a mirror. Not too long ago, I was brought into the Red Dawn Medical Center with a cracked skull, massive amounts of blood loss, and physical trauma that would be a surgeon's nightmare come true.
But I'm here. If the Captain could find a trace of hope, then I pray with all my might, that it is true, and possible, and hey, anything's possible around here. So when Erly goes zipping past me, I almost wanted to follow, but these people still need help and tending, so I get to that while everyone else began to divert their attentions to other necessities. I walk up to a Wookie (there's always one or two in Kessel), and say, "Can I take a look at that?"
That being a rather unpleasant gash right across his chest. The captain has Erly doing this crazy dance of running up and down.
"Hey Krystal, would you mind running and fetching something for me, it's very important," I mutter to myself in a false deep voice, "why of course, it's good to have a specific objective in the midst of a frelling crisis." I say in my normal, ridiculously high-pitched voice. The Wookie growled in question at me.
"Sorry, I just feel a little ignored." The wookie grunted and said in his language that he's having a hard time ignoring me since I'm tending a painful wound on him. Which is a fair point, so I concentrate on his problem.
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Jemima Sacharo
Member
“I can't lose any more of you. I just can't!”
Posts: 104
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Jemima Sacharo on Aug 19, 2016 4:35:59 GMT -8
"I don't get upset anymore."She spoke quietly and thoughtfully as she stared at nothing across the room.I've been through worse.She caught the doctor's pause as she turned to see Isabelle standing there naked and she adjusted her hands to cover herself better, well at least as best as she could, mainly for the doctor's benefit.Whoops. I've made her uncomfortable.When the doctor began Isabelle winced with the first touch of the wound and then sat virtually unphased by the rest of the treatment, perhaps due to the fact that she had become distracted by the noise coming from outside which seemed to be over almost as suddenly as it started. It also didn't take long for the doctor to patch her up which Isabelle immediately looked over."Do you think it will scar?"She asked as she looked at the doctor. "Okay," said Jemima, accepting of the woman's statement. There was no doubt in her eyes that the injured lady meant what she said. "wish I could be like that sometimes..." When she saw an increased sense of modesty, she waved her hand reassuringly, "Don't take this the wrong way, but there's no need to be shy. We're both girls here..." with a frown she looked thoughtfully at her patient, "...right? I mean there are certain species where the male actually resembles the female of another species...but those are rare, and generally not human looking. Uhmm...and, well, besides, I would work better if you're not squirming and trying to cover yourself as I'm stitching and so on..." Fortunately, the woman's threshold for pain appeared to be impressively high, as the young biologist applied her medical care with relative ease. When she was done, she looked up at the question asked, "S-scar? Oh...I mean, unless you have an exceptional healing factor, then yes, you'll have a few scars. But of course..." she wandered over to a small cabinet near the entrance, and retrieved a small container along with a few patch packets. Her eyes shot up to meet Silas' when he greeted her, and she smiled pleasantly at him. "Oh, hullo, sir. You doing all right?" said the girl, but she quickly turned her attention back to the other woman. When she peeled open one of the packets, the smell that wafted out identified it easily for what it was. "...there's always bacta, or Kolto, which will remove any and all scaring, as well as improve the healing process. We have a refresher that you can use, and after a good bath, you can apply these patches, or dab the liquid version over the injuries." She smiled cheerily, before her eyes rolled up and to the left thoughtfully, "I do believe I had better get these out to the others. Hopefully we'll get someplace where I can replenish the used supplies. Not that I'm complaining, but we don't have a medical supply large enough for the volume we're dealing with right now." She was already bustling about while she spoke, the edges of her mind threatening to bring back the tidal wave of emotions, thoughts and experiences, but she pushed it forcefully out to be dealt with later, when she was no longer in a crisis and the lives of others depended on her focus and mental stability. Still, her red-rimmed eyes and red-tipped nose spoke honestly of how she felt about everything in absolute truth. Nevertheless, she paused before the woman and offered a helpful look, "Will you be all right? Do you need anything else? You will be slightly anaemic, obviously, but with proper rest, food, and maybe a blood transfusion once I can identify your type and if we have packs to spare, you'll be fit as a fiddle." |
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Erly Ryzer
Member
Chilli Cheese Fries, please...
Posts: 181
Affiliation: CorSec (Formerly)
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Post by Erly Ryzer on Aug 20, 2016 0:56:01 GMT -8
Within Hyperspace, Departing Kessel
Cargo Hold, Wayfarer-class transport, the Midnight Shadow
"No problem." Erly daintily hopped aside as Adrien came over to inspect her findings. The two nunas chirped and hooted softly at her ankles until she sternly but gently shushed them with a noise and a wave of her hands. Nodding to herself, she turned back to Adrien, filled with curiosity for what was in this box. "So what is it...?"
The captain was busily getting the service droid to move the large object into a central area, then he was gone, apparently ignorant of her question, but really, who could blame him? The blonde didn't have to wait long, as he quickly returned, carrying Connie, as he called her. Her eyes deftly followed his fingers as he entered the ten-digit code for the box, a force of habit more than a desire to memorize and know everything about her crewmates, she had already filed away the memory of the code, associating the memory with the pleasant smell of fried gizka, which she was smelling a faint trace of somewhere.
Imitating him in moving back as the droid opened the container, she stared open mouthed at what was inside. Of the numerous possibilities she had in mind, this was very far down on the list, so it still surprised her. But it made sense, she surmised. Frozen, preserved, maybe they'd find something along the way, in their travels, and Connie could be restored. Her lips quirked upwards supportively as Adrien grinned, brimming with confidence. As he placed the Nagai into the tank, Erly listened to him talk to her, and if she caught on to his mistake in what he nearly said, she only showed in an increased amount of attention paid to him, and a slightly twitch in her facial expression.
Then he spoke to her, and she turned to look at the location he was pointing out to her, listening intently to the instructions given to her. Just like when they first met on Juvex, Adrien would learn that Erly was not only attentive, but succinct in her obedience, though not to the point of slavishness. Her heart started beating fast and hard. It was exciting...and terrifying, the volume of trust that Adrien had suddenly imparted upon her. She felt flattered, for sure, but also worried, hesitant and a little afraid. She wasn't sure she truly deserved or earned such confidence in her. But her sense of duty told her only one thing: Do it to the best of your ability, earn that trust, and be worthy of it.
"You got it," Erly said, patting him gently on the arm with one hand. Her two pets following closely at her heels, she gingerly walked up to the cryotank first, leaned forward a little, and spoke softly, "So, your real name is Constanza Vinti? It's a nice name."
She turned and smiled sheepishly at Adrien, "I'll have her safely stored and secured, and we'll need to figure something out...in a moment. Hey, droid, a hand please?"
She beckoned the service droid to help with the cryotank, then darted towards the hidden compartment pointed out to her earlier. She marvelled at it, for if she hadn't been told where to look, a routine scan would very easily miss it, and she was willing to bet even advanced and full scans short of tearing the ship apart wouldn't have uncovered it. It was perfect for smuggling all right. Opening it, she started to make space for the tank, and hefted out some sort of weapon. Grunting with the effort, she wheeled unsteadily around, "Geez...hhh! I didn't think they...made these nasties any more..."
Placing it in the container that once held the cryotank, she then directed the droid with Constanza to place the tank inside, and once everything was secured, she had the compartment gently sealed up again. Slowly she turned back to look at the captain, "Adrien...what do you want me to tell the others? Dr. Sacharo, Tancredi, the Outlander, the Mandalorian, Weston, they all saw Anz...I mean Constanza lying out there, and you holding her. We're in hyperspace, and suddenly she's nowhere to be found? They'll be curious, and at least four of these people are natural lie-detectors. So I'd prefer to go with either omitting information or providing some sort of convincing explanation...preferably one close to the truth, without it actually being the truth. Or you got something else in mind?"
She brushed her hair back and looked up at him hopefully, trusting him as much as he trusted her, brimming with confidence that he had the answer to just about everything.
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