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The Nebulon Bantha lumbered carefully along its precise but precarious hyperspace path. Tramp freighter it may be, but it was life and home to its owners and crew. In its life it had seen numerous alterations, but never suffered from neglect: in the Medj'K'ai Nebula pilots who neglected basic maintenance schedules did not last long.
They could not last long, for the nebula was a mass of shifting interstellar dust, the raw matter of stars. This was not, though, the dust of creation but of deterioration: the nebula was in constant turmoil from collapsars, black holes. The gravitational twists arising from their interaction with the cloud altered cometary trajectories, pulled asteroids out of orbit, and made every hyperspace calculation a dance with fate.
That the Bantha had survived so long in the nebula as a private freighter said a great deal about the skills of its pilot and co-pilot.
The passengers were oblivious to the precarious journey. One stood in her passenger lounge, the vivid blue blade of a activated lightsaber shimmering before him. Simja Shaar had his legs shoulder-width apart, his knees flexed, his stance steady but mobile. A blindfold was wrapped around his face and a training remote hovered in the air, wavering from side to side. It turned, darted left and fired two low-powered bolts, both of which he easily absorbed with the humming, iridescent blade. The remote slowly eased right, then lanced out with another bolt at his shoulder. Again, young Jedi slid his blade to just the right angle to absorb the attack.
To an outsider it may have looked impressive; to Mu'hai's Cerean eyes the impetuous Padawan was showing off, purposefully trying to impress the other passengers by training in so public a place, with the remote at such a low setting. After all, there were only seven people in total in the battered freighter. He shook his head slowly at Shaar's blatant posturing, once more regretting the absence of a Master to admonish his companion.
Two more bolts flashed out from the remote; Shaar dealt with both deftly, the clashing of the bolts against the blade intrusive against the hum of the hyperdrive. The Rodian and Twi'lek leaning over the holotable looked up. "Cut it out, Jedi," barked the Rodian, the tones rounded, oboe-esque through his proboscis.
The lightsaber hissed as the blade died. Shaar pulled back his blindfold and grinned. "Not one got through."
The Rodian was not impressed. "More's the pity," he snarled and turned back to the Twi'lek. "Can't you stop him doing that in here, Aayla? It's your ship!"
The Twi'lek smiled; her Lekku twitched. "It's not my ship, I only signed on for this trip. But he has a point." She glanced at Mu'hai, who nodded gently in encouragement. She stood and beckoned to Shaar. "One of the cargo bays is empty - try there. Come, I'll show you."
The Rodian grumbled. "The game…"
Her smile broadened, emphasising her natural beauty, famed of all Twi'lek women. "I'll be back shortly, Treevo." She gestured gently to Mu'hai. "You too, in case you want to practice."
Shaar shrugged. "Fine by me."
Mu'hai arranged his robes around him and stood gracefully. He bowed. "Please lead."
The lift plate led to the engine access passage, and from there to the connecting corridor leading forward to the cockpit and escape pods, both located between the forward mandibles. To either side were the wide access doors to the cargo bays. She bowed teasingly to Shaar as she opened the right-hand bay. "In here, great warrior."
The Jedi stopped. She saw the look on their faces and turned to follow their gaze. In the bay the last passenger was floating in mid-air with legs crossed, a staff across her knees. A faint shimmering in the air before her faded as they watched. She turned to face them, her almost sightless eyes nonetheless pinpointing them with an acute accuracy.
"I must apologise. I was trying to understand some advice." Her voice was a multi-timbred song, a pleasure to hear for all three in the doorway; her ears twitched as she spoke, as if listening to her own echoes. "Come in", she sung as drifted to the floor and gracefully stood.
All three stepped in, almost automatically. Mu'hai bowed. "I sensed you were strong in the Force, but I knew not how well the Adhrooli had mastered its ability."
Her face was blank, no emotion showed, but nonetheless pleasure emanated from her posture and stance. "Thank you. Though it is not the Force I strive to understand, but the Spirit Circle, the everlasting life and cycle of our ancestors and children to be."
"I stand corrected."
Shaar nodded. "Not bad. Not bad." He felt disconcerted: there was an intensely attractive grace about the Adhrooli which complemented her singsong voice. He cleared his throat. "Um. Do you mind if we practice in here?"
Mu'hai hushed his fellow Padawan. "When Velah has finished."
The Adhrooli inclined her head and leant on her staff. "I have finished for now."
Mu'hai looked up. "What's that…?"
They were interrupted by the screaming of the proximity alarm. From aft came the sound of metal squealing under stress. The ship shuddered and dropped out of hyperspace; abruptly it rang, jumped and trembled under a massive impact, the inertial dampers failing to compensate. The sounds of violent contact continued briefly, a rending and grinding, echoing through the empty cargo hold. All four were thrown to the floor.
The alarm changed tone.
Aayla swore. "Fire!" She rushed over to the extinguishers in the bay. The pilot and co-pilot ran past the door to the hold, each clutching an extinguisher. From the rear of the ancient YT-2000 could be heard the crackling sounds of a fire, the plinking of metal under intense heat. "Help me!" she ordered, throwing extinguishers at the Jedi. She began to throw one at the Adhrooli and hesitated.
The sightless eyes stared back. "I would only be a hindrance, I am afraid."
Aayla nodded to the Jedi. "Follow me!" She rushed out the doorway, the Jedi close behind and headed aft…
…in time to feel the explosion; in time to see the pilot and co-pilot thrown backwards against a bulkhead; in time to see both plummet to the deck.
The fire blazed harder, reaching out over their unconscious bodies. The draught tugged at the Jedis' robes as air was sucked in to the blaze, a counterpoint to the intense heat radiating from around the corner. "See to them!" screamed Aayla to the Adhrooli before cautiously stepping round the corner, extinguisher flaring. Both Jedi followed.
The controlled hiss of the extinguishers filled the air with the smell of fire suppressants.
Velah knelt by the co-pilot, sensing the life in him flicker. As she examined him she hummed and ran her fingers lightly over his body. Barely conscious, he could not feel her contact. His flightsuit was burnt, torn away in places. His shuddering breath bubbled in his chest: he was dying, of that she was sure. She focussed briefly, calling on the combined strengths of the Circle spirits to arrest further pain. Gradually his breathing eased. Her shoulders slumped with weariness, but she turned to the pilot. To her surprise the Rodian was standing over him.
"He's alive," he hooted, "And he seems stable enough. Look after him, okay?" She nodded. He turned and ran forward to the cockpit, shouting over his shoulder. "There's no-one piloting this thing. I've got to make sure we're not about to crash into anything else."
Behind her the blaze flared up; Aayla jumped back, jumpsuit smoking and redirected the efforts of the Jedi to the base of the flames. She called over to Velah. "Get them up front, out of the way!"
Velah nodded and began tugging the unconscious pair towards the cockpit and the escape pods, out of danger from the fire. They were heavy; she was slight. She called on her ancestors, softly singing an invocation to their spirits to give her their strength. She tried lifting the pilot again; strength flowed into her limbs and she dragged him along the companionway to the cockpit. Moments later she was joined by the Jedi carrying the co-pilot between them. Mu'hai beckoned to the escape pods and they loaded the injured crew into two of the small craft, sealing them safely inside.
The fire blazed once more; Aayla ran up the companionway and closed the emergency bulkhead behind them. "We must flush the air from the ship. We can't control the fire!"
Treevo snorted. "Easily said. Our air recyclers have gone."
"Don't say that!" It was a spacer's nightmare.
Treevo was grim, his dark gaze flitted around them all. "I have to say it, blueskin. The scrubbers have gone. All we have is what's in the ship and what's compressed in the reserves. That's one cycle. After that it's 5 or 6 hours - at low pressure - and the air deteriorates anyway. Maybe more with those two in the escape pods."
"Do we have a choice?" asked Aayla, Lekku twitching nervously.
The Jedi glanced at each other then at the Adhrooli. Velah shrugged. "I know nothing about starships."
Mu'hai spoke for the three Force-users. "I don’t think we have a choice. We've got to act now." He tried to feel the Force, to reach for a pattern as he said the words, but either his knowledge of the Force was still too weak or there was no obstruction to his decision.
"So be it." Treevo turned, flicked some switches and winced as the sound of wheezing pumps filled the cockpit. "They don’t sound too good." He watched the monitors, tracking air pressure, internal temperature. "Fire's dying."
Aayla watched his confident moves around the cockpit. "You're a pilot, aren't you. You've flown freighters before."
Treevo nodded. "A few times."
"A smuggler?" asked Shaar. "A bounty-hunter?"
Treevo's nose flicked. "Now why does everyone think Rodians are smugglers or bounty-hunters?"
Aayla laughed. "Because most of you are? I bet if we check…."
The Rodian looked at her, tried to stare her down with his huge, dark eyes, but her grin was obvious, infectious even across species. He chortled, a musical bubbling. "Fair point, sister. Well, it wasn't smuggling, just art shipments. Only I was framed this last time."
The sound of the pumps ceased and a flashing light caught his attention. "It's vacuum. Fire's out. Still hot in there, though. And there's no way of radiating the heat."
Velah interrupted. "Which means?"
"If we let the air back in too quick and there's anything flammable around, it might just flash-over. We could get another explosion. It may well re-ignite anyway." He flicked some switches on the red-light covered console. "I'll pump it slowly back up to a breathable pressure."
The pumps wheezed once more, but quieter than before. "They still don’t sound too good", muttered the Rodian. Lights flashed. "Fire's lit, but it's not as high as before. Let's douse it and check the damage." He led the way aft, Aayla and the Jedi following.
* * *
The Rodian and Twi'lek collapsed into the console command chairs, soot and smoke-marks over their clothes, hands and faces.
Mu'hai folded his arms and slid his hands into his sleeves. "So what do we have?"
Treevo hooted derisively before translating into Basic. "Almost nothing."
Aayla nodded in agreement; her Lekku flailed as she spoke. "The hyperdrive is nothing but molten slag, totally useless. Subspace drives look as if they're functional, but the motivators have been destroyed in the fire: we can't start them up even if they are okay. The repulsor controls are damaged - we could repair them in an hour or so - but there's no way of telling if they'll stand up to too much abuse, either."
Shaar interrupted. "Can't we call for help?"
Mu'hai waved him quiet but the Rodian answered. "Not in time, no. The sub-space antenna's been ripped off, and the amplifier looks as if needs repair - as far as the monitors suggest anyway. All we've got is sublight radio, and we're light-hours out from Losshaven." He looked expectantly at the two Jedi. "Unless you two can do something?"
Both shook their heads. "No way", said Shaar.
Mu'hai sighed. "I would like to repeat what Master Yoda taught us: there is no try, just do. But this is beyond doing."
Shaar rolled his eyes. "What he means is we can't contact anyone. No way."
Aayla shrugged. "So that's all we've got."
Treevo hooted sarcastically. "Whoopee, supermind."
Mu'hai was calm, and looked at the Rodian steadily. "Do you have another idea?"
Treevo held his gaze for a moment then began counting off on his fingers. "One: we don’t know where's nearest. Two: interplanetary travel on repulsorlift with minimal gravity influence will take days. Three: we only have five or six hours before the air starts degrading. Four: we have to fix the repulsors. Five: even if we took to the pods we might be so far away from anywhere we'll die before we arrive."
Mu'hai gestured towards the navcomp. His replies were calm, quiet and direct. "Navcomp's still working, is it not? You can repair the repulsor controls, can you not?"
Everyone stared at the Rodian. He clenched his fists, tentatively waved his proboscis around, then opened and closed his mouth a few times. Aayla turned to the Navcomp and punched in a few details. Treevo turned round to help her. "I hate damned know-it-alls…"
Mu'hai smiled. Shaar took his cue from his fellow Padawan and stood at ease, hands folded into the sleeves of his tunic. Velah leant towards them and gestured at the Rodian and Twi'lek. "What are they doing?"
"Huh?" started Shaar. "They're checking the navcomp. Look at the display." Velah turned to the navcomp: they sensed rather than heard her hum, volume slowly increasing. It stopped and she turned back to them. "I sense nothing but blankness."
"What?" Shaar was perplexed. He nodded towards the displays. "There's Losshaven, look, and our trajectory."
Mu'hai chuckled. "She cannot see, Shaar." He bowed to the Adhrooli and apologised. "The displays on this ship are meant for light-sensing eyes, not for sound or radar."
She nodded. "So I suspected." She stepped back into the corner and calmly leant on her staff. Shaar's gaze lingered on her for a few moments more.
Mu'hai spread his hands. "If we can help fix the repulsor drives…"
Treevo glanced up at the Jedi. "We can manage", he snapped. He strode aft, grabbing a toolkit from a locker as he passed. Abruptly he stopped and turned in the companionway. "Don’t stand there doing nothing. Try and raise Arysine Control." He fluted at Aayla. "Come on, you."
Aayla shrugged at the other three. "I seem to have said something to upset him", she grinned, and followed the Rodian to the rear.
Mu'hai sat down at the sub-light radio, checked on the navcomp and punched in the frequency for Arysine Control. The headset was a clumsy fit on his tall cranium. "Arysine Control, this is the Nebulon Bantha requesting emergency landing privileges."
The link was faint, interference crackling. The signal strength indicator fluctuated. He linked the cabin speaker into the headset amplifier. "Must be the interference from the giant and it's companion." He began repeating his request.
Velah tugged on Shaar's sleeve. "Companion?"
Shaar gestured to the navcomp display, then looked foolish. "My apologies, lady. Arysine is a gas supergiant. But it's got a companion it picked up in the past few millenia - a microscopic black hole. The singularity is siphoning off its atmosphere - it's already played havoc with the giant's smaller moons and asteroid belts. The gravity and the drag is what makes it look like a pear." He shook his head. "The electromagnetic interference from the pair must be huge." He looked quizzically at the Adhrooli. "Does this make sense?"
Velah nodded. "I understand. I have had some study of cosmology. Your explanation is very clear."
Shaar looked pleased. "Good. I'm no expert."
The comm crackled. "This is Arysine Control to Nebulon Bantha. Request denied. Gravity influences and meteoroid activity is excessive. Repeat: request denied. Suggest Losshaven."
Nebulon Bantha. Our engines have failed and atmosphere is deteriorating. Crew need medical attention. Your location is the only haven in range. I repeat: Request emergency landing privileges."
"Nebulon Bantha, Arysine Control. We are tracking your trajectory in-system. Suggest you maintain current course and not land at Arysine Control. Landing here is dangerous. Request denied."
Mu'hai patiently responded. "Nebulon Bantha. I repeat, our engines have failed and we have no other haven we can reach. Our atmosphere reserves are low. The crew are seriously injured and need medical attention." He stopped for a moment, then added "We also have Jedi couriers on board."
There was a pause before the response from Arysine Control. "Nebulon Bantha, did you say Jedi?"
Shaar smiled. "That got their attention. The Force is with us."
Mu'hai nodded. "Confirm, Arysine Control. Jedi couriers are also on board. We request permission for an emergency landing."
There was no reply. Mu'hai tried again. "Arysine Control, I repeat. We have injured and Jedi couriers on board. Request emergency landing under Republican safety protocols."
The carrier hissed quietly, empty of response. The signal strength indicator faded.
Arysine Control had cut the connection.
Continued…
© 2004 Tim Bancroft
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Page created 8th March 2004 by Tim Bancroft (Halfbat)