A Single Spark

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The Vector was a well made ship. It was a Corellian design, a successor to the widely popular YT models - of which the most famed would have to be the Millennium Falcon. It would serve Cyril well in his future endeavors, of which he was preparing to share with his so-called crew. He barely knew their names, but they would have to do. Working with these two would be a necessity for the trials ahead.

The ship was still unnamed. They'd only just stolen it from the Sith Apprentice, Gregory, on Tython, and it now flew through hyperspace. He would let the duo name it.

At the moment, the errant Jedi Master sat in the ship's small lounge area, playing a game of dejarik with the ship's computer. He was dressed in black sweatpants and a simple white shirt; no point in sitting combat ready when nothing could touch you.

His fingers danced across the board controls as he moved his creatures against the computer's, whilst also drifting to his side from time to time to feel the weight of the lightsaber at his hip. It was a warm comfort given the circumstances.

There he would remain until the two women decided to be social.


[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Charlene Adaska"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Cyril Grayson"]
[member="Charlene Adaska"]

Today, Urya decided, was the day that she'd try her hand at cooking. She found some strange meat product in the storage, and had seasoned it with every spice she found in the cupboard. Roasted well into the 'done' range, and a little past 'singed', the dinner was then put unceremoniously on a plate and had a knife jammed into its Flesh. Proud of her creation, the Cyborg toddled out of the kitchen and into the lounge area. " I created food! This is where you eat it, Fishman."

Urya's ensemble for the day mostly consisted of a sheet artfully draped over her fleshy and cybernetic bits. There was a cable holding it together that looked as if she'd swiped it from the engine room. " Because I made it! Leave some for my best friend! She'll be cracking along momentarily."

 

[Charlene Adaska]

Kidnapping was generally against Galactic law. Had Charlene a little more time, she'd probably hunt down the nearest law officer and file a formal complaint. She'd win the case too. She kept information for all her clients on file. She could prove that the ship did not belong to these two. She could. She honestly could.
But she hadn't. Why? Every time she thought she had fumbled together enough courage to run, she stopped herself. The ship. She had to stay with this ship, at least for now. It was like it spoke to her, begged her to watch over it. Like a scared baby nexu, wailing for mama to stay with it. So she stayed. She stayed and she did a full examination of all her working parts.

"Ah, Binkie," she mumbled, giving the ship a name fit for a child, "lookin' good so far."

She was stuck under the ships main engine, reading the working parts through thick goggles. The ship was well taken care of, well loved, it would seem, by the previous owner. Not a bolt out of place- except for that. There was a cable missing. That was not... possible. It looked like it had been ripped right out of the machine! With a growl of annoyance, the green woman pulled herself out from under the engine, stood up straight, pushed her goggled back onto her oil-stained forehead and stormed out.

"Hey! Who's been messing with Binkie!?"

[member="Cyril Grayson"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

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Was this food? The Jedi stared down at the ensemble in utter silence. His blue eyes narrowed as he poked the edge of the meat slab with his index finger. His brow furrowed as what might have passed for carrion squished audibly under his finger. He pursed his lips to speak, only to fall silent as the mechanic voiced her displeasure.

"Binkie?" He managed, pulling at the hilt of the kitchen knife worriedly. "Does she mean that -- where did you get that cable?"

Ensuing dread fell over Cyril like a thick blanket. The force only knew if Urya had removed something that the ship needed to operate - in hyperspace of all places! He uttered the age old Jedi mantra under his breath as the mechanic stormed in, centering himself to deal with this storm of osik.

"I think Urya took what you're looking for." He replied apologetically. With an insane amount of confidence, Cyril took a bite of the meat. He crunched once, made a face, and forced it down.

Tangy.

His gaze shifted to Charlene, and he offered a kindly smile. Kidnapped or not, Cyril had offered to pay the woman handsomely for the distress, and for later service if she chose to stay aboard. At least, that would be the case if he wasn't murdered by the angry Mirilian within the next ten minutes.

[member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Charlene Adaska"]
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

" I can tell you that I didn't get the cable from the closet. Or the fog."

She turned to face Charlene, missing the agony on Cyril's face as he attempted to feast upon her creation. " I made lunch! You'll have to share with Cyril. I don't think that the ship was stocked properly for takeoff, food-wise. So if we make one meal a day, and share it, maybe we'll be fine!"

 

[Charlene Adaska]

She was... wearing it. Like a belt. The Mirilian blinked. These folks were insane. Absolutely. Entirely.

"I don't want your food," she snapped at [member="Urya Uvatera"] , holding a filthy gloved hand out, "I want that wire. It's not going to kill us without it, but i'll be damned if I let Binkie go on with even one less part. You know how fragile the main engine is? If you'd plucked out the wrong wire, we could all be sucking vacuum right now."

She glared at the one that went by [member="Cyril Grayson"], as if this were all his fault. She'd take his payment, and then some, just for the annoyance. She knew how much she was worth. She wasn't going to buy her own ship doing charity work for a couple of criminals, after all.

 

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The Jedi lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. He had no idea how the ship worked, or what it might need to continue to perform at its current rate. That was why Charlene was here, and Cyril was giving her more than any regular run of the mill pirate might.

That, and there was something off around the Mirilian. Urya was a practical void in the force. She was missing so much of her initial body that it was hard to tell her apart from a droid. Charlene was the opposite. She was luminescent, an island within an ocean that swallowed most up into its depths. That intrigued Cyril - just as much as Urya's odd condition.

"You should probably put on some pants and give her the wire." He advised, holding his hands up to show his neutrality. He bit down on his lower lip, and looked between the two women. "I enjoy a bit of excitement as much as the next guy, but let's not destroy the ship's interior. I like not having any holes in my vessel, thanks."

He gave a moment's pause.

"Besides, I have important things to talk to you both about."

[member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Cyril Grayson"]
[member="Charlene Adaska"]

Urya gave a long, beleaguered sigh when Cyril demanded she give the cord back. " FINE. Woe be it for me to try and begin a new, low-cost clothing trend. All the Ayrou would have loved it. You're going to want my food sooner or later! You'll die of hunger. Then where will Binkie be?" She rubbed her metal hand against her flesh one. " Yes. I can imagine it now... poor, Innocent Binkie, laid bare to my screwdriver..." She flicked the tool out of her wrist with a menacing 'click'. " All that circuitry..."

She wriggled the cord around on her hips, finding where she'd tied it. After a few moments of picking the impressive knot, Charlene would have the cord thrown at her. Urya's toga slumped somewhat without the belt, but mercifully stayed in place. " Are you happy now?"

 

[Charlene Adaska]

The mechanic snatched the bent wire out of the cyborgs hand and grumbled to herself as she tried her best to straighten it out. Poor binkie. She'd have to buy a new one once they landed somewhere civilized, if only so it looked nice again.

"What could you possibly need to talk about?" she snapped, ready to pull her goggles back on and go back into the engine room, "I thought we'd worked out our deal already?"

To her, that was all she needed. A contract, an insurance that she would be paid. She sincerely hoped he would not be trying to complicate their deal.

[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

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Calm was pushing it a bit far, but the two were pacified at the very least. Cyril breathed an audible sigh of relief. Anything to get away from the chaos.

He pushed up from his seat, standing a little over two meters in height. He reflexively grabbed his lightsaber, and ran his fingertips over the smooth durasteel that made up the hilt. It was heavier than most blade, as Cyril liked, and suited his fighting style well.

It was his only constant companion, with him since his trials began so long ago on Gratos.

"What we're going to be doing - I'm not a fan of the Sith Empire. The One Sith, whatever they call themselves. I led the Republic, and then the Jedi Lords to combat them during the wars bloodiest time." His smile faded. "Since then, I've left my post, but the people in Sith space are treated morbidly. I plan to help them."

He gave a moment's pause, and gestured all around the ship - Binkie as the two called it, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"That's why I needed this. That's why I need a crew. I plan to take a stand against the Sith Lords once more where they think they have full control. They can't be allowed to get comfortable in their holdings."

He adopted a serious expression, jaw set, brow furrowed. "I am a member of the Jedi Order, and as one of our dwindling number, it's my duty to help the people the Sith oppress. Will you assist me?"

[member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Cyril Grayson"]
[member="Charlene Adaska"]

"Yes! Revolution! Free the people! Break skulls! Crush giblets! Count to twelve! Aubergine. KKknnzt." Her voice cut out for a moment, a spark popping from her forehead panel. She needed to sit. Urya plopped into a lounge chair, listening. " We are a small crew. We are a small force. This ship is not going to be the only thing stopping them from killing us, is it?" Having a stunning moment of clarity, Urya looked dour.

"We could die. Very quickly. We'll need more arms, armor, and people than we have on a stolen puddle-jumper." Her brows furrowed, catching shadows to darken the orange tattoos on her scarred face. "Not only that, but the puddle-jumper has someone who wants to get off. Your 'revolution' will soon just be the pair of us."

 

[Charlene Adaska]

...Revolution? Against the Sith? Charlene wasn't exactly crazy about the Sith herself, to be honest, but they paid well. They were the reason she was as close as she was to buying her own ship! The Galaxy was a hard place. Couldn't all be fair and square.

"She's right about that," she snapped, "I don't know you, Mister Greyson. I'm sure you're a very... nice pirate-jedi-thing when you're not stealing ships and kidnapping mechanics. But I don't know you. We aren't friends, and I have no reason to support your suicidal cause."

She took a deep breath, wiping a trickle of oil off her brow.
"Miss nut-job here is right. You'll die. Fast. And I ain't sure I wanna die with someone that kidnapped me from a job. Sure you understand. I've got a business to run."

[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

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"Who said anything about dying?" Cyril fought the urge to snicker. Revolution? Not at all. A small sighted move to loosen Imperial influence and lead to some more? Absolutely. "I've done this more than once. This isn't my first rodeo, and I'm not fighting for revolution." The Jedi settled in his chair , and folded his arms over his chest.

He centered his attentions on Charlene. Urya seemed more than happy to help him in this endeavor - it was the Mirilian that was the problem child.

"I have the backing of the Republic as well." He added quietly. "The point therein, you can get off at the next stop, continue doing your job, and regret the fact that you never did anything for change, or you can act. You're a person with conscience, otherwise you wouldn't have tried to stop us when we took the ship."

He offered a small smile.

"This craft is perfect for quiet insertions. It's anonymous, nothing special. The risk is minimal, though yes, you might be hurt." The smile faded. "So take your pick, leave, or stay."







[member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Charlene Adaska"]
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

"If she's going, she'll have to eat first. You need food to eat, and it looks like Cyril is allll done with his dinner." She smirked. " I knew he'd enjoy it. Are you going to leave Binkie all alone in my hands?"

 

[Charlene Adaska]

The green woman narrowed her eyes. He said he's been through this before. How many times? And how many times had he been successful? Probably never, if he was still at it. She wanted to point this out, say she wasn't stupid. Because, honestly, she wasn't. Why would she want to mess with this disaster waiting to happen? Was it destiny? Was it truly her destiny to fail with this 'crew' of losers?
She was about to laugh in his face when the cyborg made the only point that mattered to her.
Binkie.

"....I sincerely dislike the both of you right now," she sighed, "Fine. For Binkie. Not for you."


[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

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Cyril sighed internally. The wave of relief did not show on his face, but he felt it down to his very bones. He had the beginnings of a crew - enough to actually begin making moved against the Sith hierarchy. His true goals would remain hidden for now, but in time, he would share his plans with the two woman.

His face broke into a grin so wide that it might have belonged to a child. His eyes shifted between the duo slowly, as if he were making sure they would not disappear when he looked away.

"You can have the ship when we've finished." He promised. "The first order of business. There's a garrison on Balmorra. There are refugees on the planet that are lacking severely in medical supplies." He leaned back in his chair, and the smile faded. "We'll be securing supplies from that garrison."

A confident glint shone in his eyes. He was entirely sure of what he was doing, and that fell in waves from him in the force. "You can fly for us, Charlene. Urya and I will infiltrate. Sound like a plan?"





[member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Charlene Adaska"]
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

Urya clapped her hands excitedly. " Infiltration?! Fantastic! What should I be? A nurse? A delivery girl...?"

The cyborg leaned back in her chair, popping open a panel in her arm. Inside sat a small cache of silvery chips; each one marked with a color, and snuggled safely into a foam bed. " I have a mortician, a pharmaceutical list... Should we be Mandalore? Should we be other sith?"

 

[Charlene Adaska]

"So I'm your taxi service then?"
The flat tone in her voice made it quite clear that she was less than pleased with her 'assignment'. Who did this guy think he was? Her boss now? No. He kidnapped her, took her away from her home, and made her lose out on a valid job! She didn't owe him, he owed her! Big time.

"Nah. You don't give me orders until you pay me, mister fancy Jedi."
Space wizard or not, she wasn't going to be stepped in by him. Charlene was a girl that knew her worth and was loathe to work for anything less.

"I go with, or none of you go. I wanna see first hand just how heroic you honestly think you are."

[member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

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Really?

The surprise was clear on the Jedi Master's expression. He'd expected that Charlene would opt to stay in the ship, where it would be relatively safer. Apparently that was not the case. Cyril offered a quiet laugh, a brief fit of mirth that cut through the tension like a steal knife through butter.

"I'm going to pose as an Inquisitor. Urya, you can be my combat medic liaison. Charlene, I have a set of Stormtrooper gear that would fit you perfectly." He laughed, grinning from ear to ear. They were going to help people. It was no longer a dream, or an action that might be suggested, but never taken.

They would make a difference.

"You good for that?" He asked the two women.




[member="Charlene Adaska"] [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Urya Uvatera]

[member="Charlene Adaska"]
[member="Cyril Grayson"]

Urya looked between the two of them as they bicker. " I. Uh. I can fly the ship too. I'm not seeing where your ultimatum works. You could barely hit me with a wrench, Best Friend." She beamed, flicking through the chipset in her arm. "OOh. OOH! Combat medic liason! I can kick ass AND save lives!"

She hit a button at the middle of her forehead. Three chips popped free of her forehead. " Hgnk. Riddling masterback. Tonfa hoo haa. " Urya went stock still, her arms moving as if on autopilot. Her metal hand took the chips out of her head, her flesh hand replacing them with the two new chips. They both slid in with a dull 'clik-clik!'. Urya slid back in her chair, eyes closing while the servos in her head booted up the information.