#swtaw

Safely atop the speeder, Narithia wound her arms about Nadia's waist. The woman tensed briefly, and then relaxed. The vehicle rumbled, sputtered and roared. Dust had settled onto its workings, but still it responded, still it moved. Great clouds rose up behind them as Nadia drove away from the wreckage. Smooth, open roads lay out before them - fortunate, as she could barely keep her eyes on the road. The sirens of local security forces greeted them. Narithia watched them pass with idle curiosity.

  "Shouldn't we introduce ourselves?"

  Nadia glanced briefly over her shoulder.

  "You advised us not to, Narithia, in case of Imperial sympathisers within their ranks. Doctor Mendriax warned you..." She trailed off, waiting. She wanted Narithia's reaction - she needed to know how much her master could remember.

  "Imperial sympathisers?" Patches of indigo sky hung above, lines of coloured light streaking through. The nouveau-riche, culturally aware warehouses were now inhabited, and the thrum of synthesized music filtered into the street. "Yes, of course, we wouldn't want the Empire to know we were here."

  They drove further, leaving behind the converted industrial sector - a sign of decay or new life, Nadia could not decide which. The buildings steadily reached higher, blotting out the sky. Cars and people packed the streets. The low overhangs of advertising boards prevented higher levels of travel.

  Narithia shifted on her seat, appearing to take in every detail. Multi-coloured lights twinkled and shone, creating a fake star studded sky that nearly touched the ground. It was quite beautiful, though she was somehow sure that even greater sights existed. She squeezed Nadia gently.

  "Yes, Narithia?" Naida halted, made to correct herself, and then thought better of it. She was stil unsure of calling Narithia - Narithia in this state - 'master'. It might confuse them both. "What is it?"

  Her voice was full of wonder when she spoke, but Nadia could sense a slight sadness, almost like regret. "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

  Nadia looked around, unsure of what she was supposed to be 'seeing'. A presence in the Force prodded her toward the lights.

  "Ah," she smiled. Warmth, more than friendship, flowed between them. "It reminds me of Coruscant."

  "Coruscant... of course." Narithia laid her head on Nadia's shoulder.

  "We'll be at the space port soon."

~

The port's security measure barely slowed them, though Nadia did find herself bending the truth somewhat. Regardless of the actualities of being a Jedi, popular opinion was such that even leisure breaks were treated as formal business. The gaggle of excited was, however, a welcome sight. Narithia seemed able to follow her lead, and played the part of serene Jedi perfectly. After some time, in which naïve thanks were given for defeating the galaxy's evils, and one young boy recited the Code (to the admiration of his fellows), Nadia and Narithia entered the hanger.

  "Home away from home," Nadia tried not to let her apprehension show. She had to remain calm and be sure of herself. Narithia still needed her. A reassuring light filled her, not to drown her worries, but to lift her beyond them. She looked to the other woman, who gazed upon the sip with a mixture of reverence and familiarity. Narithia had unconsciously used their link. Nadia smiled. "Shall we go inside?"

  The stout, Defender-class ship filled much of the hanger. The slatted, domed roof above was closed, and the lights that dotted it seemed mere pinpricks. Narithia strode up the ramp with ease. Nadia followed closely behind, watching. Muscle memory led the confused Jedi to the security panel, and she stopped only after the door opened.

  "I did that, but I don't remember the code," She turned to Nadia, grinning. "Not part of the usual security, yeah?"

  Nadia shook her head. The confidence that oozed across their link relaxed her more than the smile. She gestured to the opening, but it was Narithia who ushered her inside. No one ran up to great them. Even the ship's droid seemed busy.

  "Quiet, that's odd," Nadia was about to interject, when Narithia continued. "Of course, because I told them... something important... didn't I, Nadia?"

  She was startled, if only for a moment. It had seemed as if Narithia had been cured, and then it was gone.

  "Yes, Narithia, we all had our own part in this," With a sudden boldness, she took Narithia gentaly by the hand and led her further into the ship. "Perhaps," A lump formed in her throat. "we should meditate on this."

  Nadia hesitated by Narithia's quarters. She wondered if it might not be better to use the cargo hold, instead.

  "Ah." Narithia waved her hand at the door panel, and made the decision for them.

  Inside was how she had left it, just a day ago. The bed - pressed against one wall - straddled the border between unkempt and tidy. The covers were smooth, but at an odd angle. The shelves held numerous reference books and small souvenirs of her adventures. Only the floor before two large statues lay bare. Nadia was no stranger to Narithia's quarters - purely business, of course - and yet she still took her time, regarding the room.

  With an air of confidence that comes from years of practice, Narithia knelt on the mat before the statues. To Nadia it seemed as if everything was suddenly right in the galaxy. She joined her Master. Her knees protested slightly, but the mat was worn and comfortable and she relaxed.

  Relaxed, she opened herself.

  Her own confusion, worry and fear came tumbling out. Nadia gasped. She recited the Code, and found another voice.

  There is no emotion...

Behind the wall of Narithia's confidence, there lurked weeds of uncertainty.

There is peace.

Nadia swept aside her own negativity, and helped remove the blooming doubt.

There is no ignorance...

Light pierced through murky clouds. Memories floated through.

There is knowledge.

Battles won, lives lost.

There is no passion...

The darkness cleared under her watchful gaze.

There is serenity.

And before her skilled hands the path became known.

There is no chaos...

The found each other, on the edge of the mind's twilight.

There is harmony.

Narithia walked back to herself.

There is no death, only the Force.

  Nadia blinked. Slowly, the overpowering hum of the silent ship receded into the background. She could hear Narithia's steady breathing over her own. The other woman turned to her and smiled.

  Nadia offered her hand. Narithia stood slowly on her own, then helped her to her feet.

  "I understand now, Nadia," Narithia rested one hand on her padawan's shoulder, using the other to lightly stroke her cheek. "Our connection, its depth and strength..." She leant forward, breathing softly, trying to control the flutters of nervousness in her chest.

[APPEARANCE]

A middle aged man, Vaundrey spots silvery strands here and there, even though most of his hair is still of a faint black colour. His preferred hairstyle is that of neatly back combed, whilst also sporting a well kept beard with a moustache. Due to his age, Vaundrey also has wrinkles on his slightly weather-beaten face. On the right side of it, the man has scarifications (scars that act as tattoos), running down from his jaw and up to his temple, marking a part of his history. Besides this, Vaundrey has dark brown eyes, an average build of a man - nothing muscular, though - and stands tall at 1.8 meters (5.9 feet).

[SKILLS]

Despite being a failure when it comes to physical activities and handling weaponry, Arauwn excels at thinking and planning. It is no wonder that he has worked as an analyst, intelligence officer in the navy, operational strategist and military tactician. Not only did he serve in the afore mentioned positions, but acted as a logistics handler as well, making sure that the ships he worked on functioned in a peak condition and had good stocks of supplies. Besides being capable of navigating through complex situations, Arauwn is a great pilot. He is a quick thinker, always staying one step ahead of the enemy. The man never loses his calm, being able to share the calmness with his crew members.

[PERSONALITY]

Vaundrey is a highly intellectual and intelligent man, behaving exemplary. He approaches subjects in serious and no-nonsense manner, and has a tendency to easily start arguments. Despite this, Vaundrey obeys his orders, and is capable of maintaining a light-hearted relationship with his colleagues - this applies to even temporary hostages. He is known for his witty comments and sarcasm from time to time. The man has his principles, being honorary and speaks rarely anything than the truth. He keeps a calm even head in even the most heated battles, capable of navigating through complex situations with relative ease. Vaundrey may have a short temper when he is unable to solve something. At times, he may get carried away, muttering his thoughts out loud. The man is protective of his younger brother and whatever family he has left.

[HISTORY]

Born in 37 BTC to Grioger Vaundrey and Nau'ra Vaundrey, Arauwn lived as peacefully as he could for eight years until the Great Galactic War began. The war was not kind, and soon claimed Grioger Vaundrey as its victim. Nau'ra found another man some time later, changing her name to Kesher. Having reached his teenage years, Arauwn was more or less left to fend on his own as his stepfather did not favour him and his mother paid no heed. Even as a youngster, Arauwn had shown keen interest in advanced reading and hunger for more knowledge. This only grew in his teenage years. Since the war waged on, the young man was determined to prove his worth. He was one of the weakest candidates in the Imperial Army, and in no time transferred over to Intelligence. Arauwn proved to be a valuable asset as an analyst. Yet, he was not satisfied and wished to do more than simple reading. Thus he made another transfer, this time to the navy, in which his father had worked. Arauwn learned every possible trick he possibly could on his own, being granted the position of an intelligence specialist and a part time pilot after passing his training. These skills would be put to a test when the young man, at the age of 23, participated in the Battle of Hoth. The capital ship that Arauwn was on received heavy damage, but against all odds, it survived. Arauwn even had the chance of temporarily piloting the ship as one of the other pilots got wounded. Thanks to the experience, Arauwn was promoted, later on becoming a second in command of a Terminus-class destroyer. In the next 14 years, the man proved his worth several times, ultimately gaining the chance of being the second one in charge of a Harrower-class dreadnought shortly before the Sacking of Coruscant. Arauwn participated in the Sacking of Coruscant as well, faring decently for a new Commodore at the age of 37. A few years later, Arauwn was completely in charge of a Harrower. The Senior Officer went missing in 4 ATC, as his personal transport disappeared and was presumed shot down, as pieces of the shuttle were found. He was listed as KIA. In reality, it was actually a set-up made by (now former Admiral)

Hries Gonrac, who desired a better position. In order to humiliate officer Vaundrey, Hries Gonrac made sure that the man was shipped far away. From the information gathered and put together, the story is that Arauwn was sold as a slave into a hard working profession, causing his body to suffer from physical straint. Things were only to get worse, seeing as a Republic squad stormed the facility in which Arauwn was working at. The man was recognized as an Imperial, and taken into Republic custody. After extensive and numerous interrogations, Arauwn wished to defect. He sold whatever useless information - that appeared valuable to the Republic - he could, and was in the process of signing papers. This was all but a facade. Once being taken out of his cell and to the command base, Arauwn caused a distraction, stole Republic information and a transport, fleeing to Imperial space. The man had been gone for nearly seven years, returning to the Empire a mere year after that the Great War had started in 10 ATC. Arauwn gained back his former position more or less, now acting as a captain of a Terminus-class destroyer once more. He turned down promotions for reasons unknown and is currently fighting on the front lines.

TRAINING AND PROFICIENCY

[EDUCATION]

Imperial Intelligence analyst training

Imperial Navy basic training

Imperial military basic training

In-field leadership training

[NOTABLE TRAINING]

Military tactics

[ADVANCED TRAINING]

Operational strategist

Intelligence analyst

Capital ship piloting

[SPECIALIZATION]

Naval tactics

Military logistics handling

CREDENTIALS

[PAST AND CURRENT EMPLOYMENT/AFFILIATION]

Imperial Army (past)

Imperial Navy (past)

Naval Intelligence (past)

Imperial Intelligence (past)

Seventh Legion (current)

[KNOWN ASSOCIATES]

Fioken Kesher

[NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENTS]

Participated in the Battle of Hoth

Participated in the Sacking of Coruscant

Escaped from slavery

Escaped from Republic capture, stealing information in the process

[ADDITIONAL INFORMATION]

  Nadia's heart skipped a beat. Her master - her mentor - had never sounded like this before. Lost and confused, this was not the Jedi she knew or the woman she... admired. She felt a moment of apprehension, an uneasy questioning of herself and her ability. She took a breath, trying to remember her training: take stress, turn into drive; clear confusion and find clarity; force fear to become action. Remain in control of your emotions, your actions and your reactions. Centre yourself and find guidance in the Force. Nadia breathed out, pushing the air from her lungs and felt herself become steadily calmer.

  She might be able to track Narithia's communicator. Nadia nodded to herself, this would be a start. She had Narithia's last position and that gave her a place to start, at least. The factory was nor far, and it was the place where Doctor Mendriax had supposedly been, but if Narithia moved...

  Nadia took another deep breath. No, this would work. She would remain strong, she would be confident. She was a Jedi and she would act like one.

  Nadia settled awkwardly into the seat of her speeder, feeling the vehicle judder and shake as it came to life. There were no reinforcements available - their mission was secret, on a supposedly independent world. She had no one to contact, no one to rely on but herself. This was a test sent her by the Force and was determined to not be found wanting. As she drove the speeder down crowded streets, she focused on the bond she shared with Narithia. If there was one thing that could guide her, it was that. The road widened, allowing a small measure of natural light to filter down between the buildings. The air was still stale, now with the hints of dust and burning.

  The people moved around her as normal, everything calm and orderly. Nothing appeared out of place. Indeed, there were no hints of confusion or panic within the Force. That this beautifully peaceful planet was even involved in the war seemed unthinkable. There was not even a hint of an Imperial presence, no errant touch of some Sith Lord in hiding. Not for the first time, Nadia wondered about the person who had called them here and the claims they had made.

  The buildings around her started to dip, the sky becoming clearer and the late afternoon sun brighter. Commercial towers gave way to rounded roofs and hardy walls, a more practical architecture. Most of these warehouses had been converted, for artist's studios and those who liked to pretend to be on society's edge. Uncovered docking yards housed potted plants and 'reclaimed' machinery, painted with poor approximations of old zabrak designs. Perhaps that was a hint of something more sinister or perhaps it was the happy ignorance of people who were unaware of their own culture; Nadia wondered if either led to Imperial sympathizers.

  She started to notice it then, the silence that comes after catastrophe. The air was tense, as if waiting to snap. Her speeder kicked up little, sticky clouds as she drove. The dust was odd, but the buildings stranger - everything that should have been full of life felt so very, very still. Even the Force felt empty. A little chill ran down her spine and, unconsciously, Nadia drove her speeder faster. Then suddenly she realised no cars were in the street ahead, no one walked along the streets. All the people had disappeared when she turned that corner.

  The warehouses, no longer homes for the counter-cultured, became more decrepit and the street began to widen. A great cloud was settling over the low roofs, making the air ahead thick with dust. Nadia pulled over and quickly but on a re-breather and goggles. She had heard of the unpleasant things that cement dust could do to lungs. If her lungs were stuck together, she would be of no use to Narithia. She tried not to think of how her master might be faring in her confused state.

  With a quarter of a mile to the meeting point, Nadia was close. She could be there within minutes, should the cement dust be agreeable to the speeder. Still, she worried. She worried if Narithia had moved, if the enemy had found her, if...

  Nadia shook her head. A quarter of a mile. Not far, she told herself. Not far, she repeated as a mantra. Not far, a quarter of a mile.

  A quarter of a mile with no more word than 'I forgot'.

A quarter of a mile with only a vague inclination of what had happened.

Of who they were dealing with.

A quarter of a mile.

Not far.

  ~

  Narithia hugged her knees to her chest. The dust was falling, settling in a neat little ring around her. A perfect circle of clean air, clean floor and clean her. Making the bubble had felt natural, it had been so easy, but there was some nagging doubt in the back of her mind, saying this was wrong.

  When she had left the building, she felt lost, but when the voice had spoken in her ear, so full of concern and yet welcoming and soft, she had felt a little flurry of hope. She had felt hope, and a deep, unsettling confusion. She knew that the voice should have sounded familiar. That it could have been someone she knew, someone she loved. Though she could not remember even herself, the not knowing whom the voice belonged to seemed a greater loss.

  Lumbering shapes shifted in the slowly falling dust, the shadows of some dreadful, essentially, machines. The only thing she knew of them was that they were not hostile, but dangerous. She shivered on the cement step. A stale of long despair and ending surrounded her. It permeated her barrier, worming its way into her heart, to add a greater depth to her already painful loss. She dared not look behind, over her shoulder and through the open doorway. The stench seemed to be coming from inside, from where she had just been. The silence was eerie. Narithia tried to hum a song, but could barely remember the tune.

  "Narithia - Narithia, are you there?" The voice echoed strangely in her head. It was the same person as before, but different, altered slightly.

  "Hello?" Her voice was hoarse and came out as a croak. A gasp and sigh whistled over the line.

  "Thank the Force you're all right. I'll be with you soon."

  Narithia laughed nervously. Everything was so familiar, yet alien. There was a tug in her chest, something that called to her from across the forecourt. Flickers of emotion, the hint of sensation and the idea of another's memory...  Her unease blossomed and writhed. What was this thing, which pulled at her mind? Whose voice, which was so comforting, so pleasant, so... so...

  At once, a solid picture appeared. A memory, her own, belonging to no one else, came to her: a young woman, with a kind face, warm heart and eager eyes. She was important: a pinprick of light in the eddying sea that surrounded Narithia. A clarity with which to banish the fog and search out the pieces of her, which had been lost.

  Narithia clung to that image, and behind it found the tethers of that pull, that link over which another's person was flowing.

  "Nadia." Solid. A weight on her tongue that kept her grounded while her mind raced.

  "Yes," Relief flooded into her, Nadia's relief. "Yes, Narithia, it's me. It's Nadia."

  The dust continued to settle slowly, rolling in fitful bursts down her bubble. She watched, the tension releasing in her shoulders, as a single, lonely figure resolved itself. Nadia, on a speeder - not her speeder, but a speeder, Narithia realised.

  Not that Narithia could see her face, beneath the goggles that covered her eyes and the mask that hid her cheeks and mouth. It was the measure of her gait, her silhouette against the sun-lit dust, and the presence of her in that strange, mercurial ether, which reminded Narithia.

  "Nadia," She said again. "Nadia, I forgot. I forgot, somehow, but... I remember you."

  There was that relief, that happy wave of joy and weight lifted. Nadia was upon her, her robes stained dirt-grey over pious brown with the dust. Her skirts brushed aside the inches of fluff that surrounded the bubble. She reached out a hand and, instinctively, Narithia let her in.

  "The air is clean in here." Nadia removed her mask, a little breathing unit that had saved her lungs.

  "Yes," Narithia stood, holding Nadia's hand in her own. "Yes, I... made this, somehow. I think I did." She looked up, seeing blue sky slowly starting to peek through brown-grey clouds.

  Nadia opened a box at her hip, pressing a mask and goggles into her hand.

Thassar glanced at the green numbers on one of the monitors that indicated time. "Night's over soon. Shouldn't you try to sleep a bit still?"

Involuntarily, Tally let out a yawn. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said in a witty tone. "A captain's place is on the bridge."

"Wrong. A captain may go down with the ship, but it's pilot's or first mate's place to be on the bridge and inform the captain. The captain is just a figure of authority who mingles with passengers."

"In other words, I should go mingle with your beloved friend? "

"On another thought...", the Chiss looked horrified. "No."

"Guess I win this round of being smart, " Tally mused

"Congratulations. Do you want me to scratch you as a prize?" Thassar asked sarcastically.

"Oh I'd love a prize but I don't think scratching is so great," Tally said. "Maybe if I was Cathar."

"Cuddle then?"

Tally grinned like a fool. "If you're up for it and not afraid to get busted by your bestie," Tally teased

"Oh. I don't care", he said and smirked.

"Good," Tally said, then stood up and walked over to Thassar. She then sat down on his lap like she'd done it a thousand times before, resting her head against his chest while she wrapped her arms around him.

He embraced the captain and smiled. "You are warm, captain", he said and gently stroked her back. "Much warmer than a rifle that I usually carry. And prettier. Though I suppose a rifle would be better in situations when my life's threatened. Speaking of which, you could easily stab me now and I couldn't do anything." He stopped stroking and looked at her. He seemed to be cautious and tense suddenly.

Tally was fully relaxed and let out a content sigh while her back was stroked. She arched her brow and looked up at the Chiss once the romantic comment turned into one of an assassination plot. The Mirialan bore an incredulous look. "Thass," she started in a serious tone. "You're weird," she continued, then rested her head against his chest once more. "But I still like you."

Thassar relaxed and softly kissed her forehead, continuing the stroking. "I like you too, captain. You're much better captain than the ones I've known before. And less bearded."

Tally smiled, her eyes closed. For now, all she had in mind was of how happy she was; all worries gone. Neither could she help but to laugh at Thass comment. "I could always get a fake beard if you miss them," she mused.

"No thank you", he commented. "But you could start smoking cigarras?"

"And get cancer? No thank you. "

The Chiss shrugged and carefully changed his position. "Your loss", he smirked and closed his eyes.