Milo Corr

Drawing the credit once more he gave it a longing look before nodding his head. "Of course, guess I don't need it anyways." It was a sort of lucky charm to him, to part with it was like to part with a friend.

"I'll be back then!" Milo called before moving away from the forge, dragging along the sled like a child might drag a string-pulled astromech. He wandered the outskirts of Cratertown, seemingly lost as he had forgotten to ask for directions, only slipping in to deliver the mugs to secure a bed for the night.

This place was a backwater, by his standards, and lacked many of the luxuries that even he as a vagabond was used to of his home planet. But he'd get by as he always did. Finally spotting the transport, taking one last group of scavengers out to the wastes before dusk set in full, he used up the last of his wealth procuring transportation to the wreckage of old.

There was enough durasteel plating out here to create a fleet, if one was willing to go through the process of collecting it all. Electronic bounties remained hidden under piles of sands, uncovered like pearls in a clam. Mouse droids and other bots, or what was left of them, we're like small bounties to be uncovered here and there. But most of the bounty was just plating.

The work was hard, by his standards as one who would sooner shirk his duties chasing the fancies of unobtainable treasure over menial labor. Nonetheless he set about his task working with other scavengers, sharing tools and drink as they tore through metal like one might paper. 

Only to return to the transport when the star was long gone into the night.

Ackra Gaz

Elise Ike

Jyoti Nooran

Milo bowed his head twice in quick succession,"Thank you thank you," he said before throwing his head back and draining the last of the drink. Setting it aside he walked over to retrieve the metal mugs, holding them with care despite their material. "I'll make sure this gets to 'em. You've been a great help to a stranger."

As he stepped out of the door he paused and turned about. "You don't happen to have a sled that I could use to pull the salvage with, do you? Might make the whole trek easier."

Ackra Gaz | Jyoti Nooran | Elise Ike

Following the Epicanthix with his eyes, the vagabond took the man's response as a sign to stop pursuing any further questioning, slipping into a silence until they arrived at the home. "Oh, I don't mind. You should see mine," he said, as if implying he had a place to stay at all.

"Yeah- yeah. I'll give it a try, always worth it, eh?" Milo reached out to grip the cup and take an experimental sip before blanching. The liquid was harsh on the throat, and the second sip was no better. "On Empress Teta I used to scrap some of the old landspeeders and crashed swoop bikes that could be found abandoned on some of the lower levels. You'd be amazed at what people throw away carelessly."

The transient moved around the room, inspecting the various piles of scrap and other hanging goods, surveying it and taking a mental notes. "Wouldn't say that I am anything comparable to a smith, though." He returned to his drink, daring to swallow a mouthful. "I guess you're a scrapper then?"

Ackra Gaz

He nodded twice in acknowledgement as they arrived at Cratertown. "Oh, great, I can- ah..." His hands rummaged around empty pockets, searching for credits. He reveals a single standard First Order coin, furrowing his brow. "I'm not askin' for charity, but do y'know where I can find, ah... A bit of work." He said shrugging, stuffing the coin away once more.

"And where are you from then, if you aren't a native? What would make you want to move out to a planet such as this?" Milo was inquisitive, passing the time as his mind tried to mentally piece together a course of action so that he might get himself off this rock. Though the large figure did pique his interest. A distressed call through the force had brought him, he assumed. Was it by chance, or something else?

Ackra Gaz

"Yeah, I -ah. I figured." The man followed behind the large figure, one hand resting in empty an empty pocket while the other idly thumbed at a small Alliance Starbird that hung from his neck. A novelty item worth little more than a few credits. "Cao Cao? Alright. I'm Milo Corr, a pleasure to meet you in the middle of nowhere." He picked up his pace a few steps, trying to match the longer strides of the other. "If you don't mind me askin', where are we?"

"Thank you for comin' out this far and findin' me, if you were, ah, lookin' that is. I'll be honest I was, obviously, a bit startled when I saw you. How tall are you?" Milo began, licking his lips as he tried to walk adjacent to Cao Cao. He seemed to have more than a few questions, but took the conservative approach and only asked one. Choosing the most childlike one to ask first, a sign of naivety despite apparent age.

Ackra Gaz

Hands clasped about his arms to preserve heat in the rapidly cooling desert the individual kept his head down, only lifting it to spot any shifts in the environment. Born upon a planet of durasteel and duracrete, the sands and dunes were foreign to him. Even in his various galactic treks he did not set foot upon one such as arid as this.

With his head lowered the transient did not spot the approaching figure, almost running into him before he lifted his head. The Epicanthix was far larger than he, the vagabond nearly stumbled over in surprise as lifted eyes looked upon the individual's head. "H-hello!" He stammered, hastily straightening his back and dusting off the sand once more. "I didn't see you there-" he spoke, taking the moment to examine the large humanoid. "I- ah. I got a bit lost, y'know? You wouldn't happen to know the best way to... Uh... A spaceport, would you?"

Milo was nervous, that much was clear, having never been accosted by a stranger in the wilderness. Surely not one as tall as this, either.

Ackra Gaz

Finding oneself on Yavin 4 was perhaps not an easy task. Long, by Milo's standards, had it been under the control of the Sith Empire. It was mere luck that he found himself upon the verdant green rock, slipping the last of his credits into the hands of a passing smuggler with a similar destination. Yet now he was next to abandoned on the planet, alone.

But the vagabond did not come to this world without a reason. A feeling guided him here, as it had in the past. Hours of scouring historical records, forgotten legends, and geographic maps had led him here. Without a credit to his name or a weapon on his body, he trekked into the wilderness searching for the presence which nagged at this thoughts.

Two days he had spent searching, surviving off of dubiously edible berries and fruits. Aimlessly walking as the transient did not carry a map with him, instead relying on his senses.

As night fell upon the moon, two stone pillars rose from the earth, just piercing the foliage. An aura, one Milo could not place, emanated from the masonry itself. Hewn rock, cobbled together in clean cut rhombuses formed what appeared to be a stone like rib cage, flush with the earth. Upon the ground rested what he assumed to be the entrance. A slab of rock covered in a cryptic and jagged language, unknown to the amateur explorer.

With the dwindling light so too dwindled his chances of examining the slab. With the light that remained he set about to the task of creating a fire, gathering fallen limb and dead logs to create an orange circle of sanctuary for the night. With a sigh of relief he rested upon his back, gazing upon the galaxy's stars in wonder, for they were far brighter here in the woods than on the streets of an ecumenopolis.

Mereel Vaun

How he found himself on this planet was a mystery. Just a night before he was enjoying the fruits of his meager credit bounty, laden with liquid vice and bright colors before... Nothing. A face full of sand and the bitter taste of regret. Drinking one's cares away was never wise, but it was easy, and that is exactly what he sought.

In his ratty and ragged coat the vagabond rose from the ground, rubbing piles of wind-blown sand off with grubby hands. At least I look no different than normal, the man thought as he began to trudge through rising hills. "What planet am I even on?"

Squinted eyes looked over a rapidly darkening horizon, searching for any sign of life beyond the wreckage of wars gone by. Biting on his tongue he lifted up a hand, closing his eyes. Novice, initiate, those are words which might give others a false impression of his expertise in the Force. Bare minimum is perhaps the proper term, but whatever is there he would use, selfishly so.

Reaching out into the force was unnatural, he was unfamiliar with such a notion, and months previously it was just a dream. Yet with what he had learned through basic practice, the transient would use what meek will and power he had to try and sense something, anything, or at least create a force signature against the sweeping sands.

Ackra Gaz

Looming over the tea he brooded, as if lost in thought, hesitating to reach a hand out to grip the cup and take a small sip. Closing his eyes he feigned enjoyment, but internally he was in a small amount of turmoil. Setting the tea back down he shrugged his shoulders.

"It is not like this changes much, I am... Attuned, or whatever, to the Force. Not like I am a different person." Milo seemed to be speaking more to himself than Elise. Turning to her the vagabond nodded. "I am still who I am. Though now I have a bit of knowledge and capacity to do a bit more, I suppose."

Elise Ike

"Uh... Tea is fine. Yes." He said pushing to a stand, listening to her words. "You think I have sensitivity...?" Echoed Milo, following her instructions to cross the room. He peered through the glass at the lightsaber. "If that is so, why was I never picked up for one of those jedi orders, or poached, eh?" The Vagabond placed a hand on the glass, and deep within he felt something missing, as if an essential thread was plucked, causing him to to recoil.

Narrowing his eyes upon his pleasant host, he rubbed his wrist and drew away, returning to his seat. The transient had no response, merely sudden contemplation.

Elise Ike

Turning his full attention to Elise, he shrugged. "The dark side? I guess it has to be that. Yes. The best way I can explain it is really just through... Analogies. It was cold, though yes while I was not physically cold the hairs on my skin raised..." 

The vagabond rotated his hand in a circular fashion. "It felt a bit smothering, like if you spilled black ink upon a canvas, or tripped into a lake. Besides departing, you can't really just get rid of the feeling, just endure it. At least, that is what it felt like." He then motioned to her, "Though I suspect you're a bit better at explaining it than I am. So please, do go on." Gripping the chair he readjusted himself, straightening his spine before relaxing.

"And- ah... Do you have anything to drink? I hope I am not imposing."

Elise Ike

The hangar was as dark as the void, requiring an external light source to navigate it easily. It seemed in perfect condition, despite the darkness and lack of magnetic shielding.

Scrambling for a vacsuit, the vagabond slipped it on before drawing his datapad. "Yeah, should be able to. If the controls are still good and responsive. Might need to switch the emergency power back on." He flicked his fingers across the schematic. "Probably have to, there are no lights on at all." He looked to the others before pressing into the airlock, sealing it behind him, eager to be the first one out while they were still suiting up.

Flashlight, using it for illumination he floated about, counted the various ships in the hangar, and drifting between the rows of fighters and bombers, pushing on them to change his course or direction. "Three are missing!" He declared over the comms. "Still, almost a full collection from what I can see. Even one of these is worth a case of credits."

Hovering over to the hangar's interior entrance, he gripped onto the control panel and pressed various buttons. Nothing happened, the reactor and internal power sources were dead. Without luck, he searched for the manual release on the schematic, a fruitless endeavor by the transient's expression. Someone would need to open the two durasteel plates known as a blast door them self.

Lyell Pavish | Elise Ike | Draven Dursden

The ship burst from hyperspace in pitch darkness. Beyond the illuminating stars, there was... Nothing. Total, complete, darkness. No star, no planets, not even a floating rock to give them company. Yet the ships instruments began to beep, picking up something in the void.

Milo's fingers, those pointed towards the window began to follow something, a dark silhouette which could only be seen when it extinguished the light of a distant star, only for another to appear beyond its grasp. Milo, once again, trembled as if standing in the snow, as all those sensitive in the force could feel the unmistakable presence of the dark side.

Even Lyell himself could feel something out of place, something unnatural and frozen. "We... We found it, alright. I can feel it- it is right there." Without the captain's permission he began to fiddle with various buttons and switches, until he found the external lights, casting them upon the hull of the ship.

It was unmistakable in profile, an ancient warship built for destruction and domination, the crown jewel of the Sith Empire's navy. A Harrower-Class Dreadnought. No schematic, painting, or hologram could do such a justice as seeing it in the flesh. Unblemished, without scar or mark, a seemingly pristine ship. 

Its command deck was dark, neither were the Hangar's magnetic shields projected, most likely the result of having lost power years ago. As they were ferried closer they also picked up five additional signatures. Two escape pods, jettisoned but without life, and the wreckage of what can be assumed to be three smaller starships of imperial origin, many of the pieces having drifted away long ago, leaving only a trio of skeletal frames.

This was it, the ship they had been searching for, here in the frigid expanse of space. The treasure was waved before their eyes, yet something still felt... Off.

Milo continued to roll the coin between his fingers, biting his lower lip. "Well... We made it, now we just gotta take it, right?" Flipping the credit into the air, he caught it and stuffed it into his pocket. "Let us go collect ourselves some pay."

Lyell Pavish | Elise Ike | Draven Dursden

Stumbling in his seat, nearly thrown out, the transient readjusted himself, letting out a chuckle. "This bucket of bolts can barely fly! I love it." As they finally departed from Corellia, the accursed rock it was, he pushed to a stand and departed from the cockpit, exploring once more.

It would take more than a few hours to get to Korriban, but their target was a little more obscure. The galaxy was vast and wide, the chances of finding such a ship through mundane means was akin to finding a needle in the seas of Mon Cal. But the naive man stuck to his dreams- and in this moment his stomach. Milo had not had a decent meal in countless days, and opted in this moment to steal a bite or two from their captain's stores, hoping he wouldn't mind. Exploring the ship haphazardly, he gave Elise a wave when he spotted her, but moved on to return to what he was doing.

With a grin and a mouthful of food he returned to the cockpit to take a seat, making himself at home. "I have to admit, your ship ain't much to look at, but it works. S'more than I can say for most, eh? How fast can y'get this thing up to?"

Shifting in the seat, Milo folded his arms behind his head, closing his eyes, only opening one to curiously peep on the meditating Draven every so often. Having no intention to interrupt his meditation, the Vagabond merely lounged, shooting a glance towards their trusty captain.

The first few hours were uneventful, the stream of color from hyperspace their only companion, beyond each other; but upon the seventh hour, precisely on the transitioning second, all those sensitive to the force could feel a ripple. Like a pebble tossed to the waters, it was weak, small... Unnoticeable from distances farther beyond.

Turning to Lyell, the vagabond gave a confident nod of the head. "My gut is tellin' me we're gettin' close. Keep goin' a lil' more."

Lyell Pavish | Elise Ike | Draven Dursden

"Milo, Milo," He called after the pilot, letting out a sigh of relief as the good doctor shared their disinterest in the glorious credits he so greedily sought after. Stepping on board he gave it a quick little tour. Seeming impressed, though it does not take much to surpass the standards of some lowlife of Empress Teta.

Slipping up to the cockpit he began punching in coordinates, seemingly a direct route to Korriban, before adjusting the values. He began to mutter to himself basic equations, something the vagabond most likely picked up from reading on previous expeditions. "...Take into account the natural passage of time and the thousand years of drift in a random dimension-" Once set he slid into a seat and threw his arms up.

"Aight! That should do it- get us on the path at least." Nudging a tooth in between into the nail of his index finger the transient began to clean out the dirt and grime in a less than sophisticated manner. "Y'see, no ones seen it, eh? But about two weeks ago, I got this feelin' in an old Alliance University of History library. Didn't know what it was 'til I found this lil' packet of data," he raised the datapad once more. "An' always trust y'gut, s'what I say. Never lead me astray."

Rotating on the chair, much like a child struck with boredom, he could not help but flash a rather wide smile, content with himself. "I believe we'll find it, I just got a feelin'." Lyell could take off whenever he was ready. The coordinates would lead them on a rather circular route to Korriban; and if the ship was not halted prematurely, the 'crew' would find themselves in Imperial Space. It wasn't clear whether or not this concerned Milo; the vagabond hiding all his emotions behind a lopsided grin.

Lyell Pavish | Elise Ike | Draven Dursden