Private Deep Black Sea: Longjump

[Tilon Quill]

The station called Father Torus orbited a nasty pulsar at the edge of Cosm's Well. The market/resupply zone had automated shutters to keep out direct glare and (if shields went down) blunt any radiation. Even indirect glare cast stark light-and-shadow patterns across the area of ongoing commerce, which wasn't large for a trade station but was, to its credit, really crowded. Tilon kept to a walkway where he could see both the promenate below and the ruddy globular cluster outside. From here, Cosm's Well took up half the unshuttered starfield.

The other half was dominated by the expeditionary ship: a rusty two-kilometer-long Connestoga bulk freighter that could have chewed the station up with room for dessert. The freighter went by the name Longjumper's Mark. It was owned and operated by some old Levantine Sanctum people, nobody Tilon knew. It was crammed full of hyperfuel, pressurized hab and cargo modules, unpressurized gantries for unspecified acquisitions, and the biggest aftermarket hyperdrive addon Tilon had ever seen. Latched-on stage modules carried additional fuel, to be emptied first and possibly discarded en route if fuel calcs ran slim. The stock Connestoga design was over six decades old and ran at a glacial Class Four. This one did not.

Tilon had a comms berth as a xenolinguist. Never mind that he'd only ever served on Jedi ships, and only in his Jedi capacity, not as professional crew. His father had learned the knack of acquiring and giving languages from some Gutretee elders, and that rare skill made Tilon, apparently, a desirable employee.

As a full-grown adult, this was still perilously close to being his first job. That, more than the voyage, unnerved the hell out of him as he loitered on the walkway, watching the huge freighter and the cosmos.

Loxa Visl

 

[Loxa Visl]

Wait here.

A command Loxa had become much more accustomed to hearing while working with others not of her clan. It seemed everyone had a plan, and it did not often involve one such as herself muddying the communicative waters. Just as well, here afforded her a spectacular view of both the coming and going foot traffic within the station, and the swirling aphotic vortex far beyond the half-shuttered viewports. Her journey through old Moross space fruitful enough, the witch parted ways with Khaleel Malvern when it became obvious that what he needed to do to ensure their safety might very well lead to his death.

She liked the man, but her story was far from over and her dreams growing ever more vivid, obscure. She valued her life quite a bit more than their wayward attachment.

Loxa quietly prayed for his wellbeing and fed her tailring a grub from a small satchel on her hip. The unfathomable burning mass beyond continued its slow spin and reflected in her eyes.

The tailring playfully snatched at another grub, chirruped, then tossed it into the air. It bounced off a head of fuchsia standing nearby.

Kairon Rees Tilon Quill

 

[Kairon Rees]

Kairon carried his heavy duffel bag over one shoulder. Most of the items he had packed were in a container being ferried over to the bulk freighter, but he kept those things he could not afford to be lost close at hand. He made his way to a viewport to take a look at the freighter. It looked very similar to an old brick. It probably handled just as well.

The Quintessence needed extensive refits. To fill the space he and the crew had signed on for various trips. Kairon had felt stuck in something of a rut, so he had chosen the most outlandish voyage.

He glanced over his left shoulder as something moved quickly and caught his gaze.

Oh good.

The woman who spoke in riddles who summoned ghosts from her fingertips.

Kairon did not dislike her, but she had drawn his attention to how dangerous her magic could be on a space ship. This was going to be a very long trip.

Best, he decided, to find out if she was just passing through.

"Loxa!" he said, with a wave. He dropped his bag at his feet.

 

[Tilon Quill]

A grub bounced off Tilon's arguably voluminous hair and fell to the old station's deck. He took in the situation - spacers, tiny dragon, grub - and flicked the lattermost item off the edge of the gallery. The grub tumbled into the marketplace and was lost in, frankly, homogeneity. No, that was a wrong thought, an old Sith thought. You couldn't think about people like grubs, even as a joke. Tilon found himself fidgeting and shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

That name caught him out of his agitation. Loxa - not a common one. A witch named Loxa had come to Ferryman's Reach when he was a good deal younger. Memory being what it was, he couldn't recall whether he'd met her or just derived a mental image, a sense of her, from the way his father had talked about their meeting.

"Excuse me," he said to the woman ultimately responsible for the grub. "My name's Tilon Quill. Have you ever been to Ferryman's Reach on Pagodon?"

Loxa Visl Kairon Rees

 

[Loxa Visl]

For all her otherworldly awareness and spiritual senses, she did not notice the grubbening. The tailring did, however, and it stared after the lost snack with its neck frills flared. It warbled, discontent.

A familiar voice had called out her name, which was something that happened hardly ever. Loxa's gaze immediately shifted opposite of the peacock-haired young man to look through the crowds at what amounted to Tilon's polar opposite: a dark and unremarkable old man. The witch's expression lightened considerably within her hood and behind her sunglasses - both of which Khaleel had implored she maintain use of for the foreseeable future for reasons.

Still, she wasn't hard to pick out of a crowd with her tailring, metal staff, and a jacket that catalogued her far-flying exploits across the stars with identifying patches of various places-that-be. Kairon certainly found her easily enough.

"Ah, Kaptan!" Loxa smiled at him, opened her mouth to greet, and found her words cut off by the peacock. She blinked behind the lenses at him. Her?

"Pagodon..." she mused and sifted through her more recent memories over the last, long decade, "big cold, yes? Yes. This One know." Loxa lifted her right arm, gently brushed her space-dragon to her other shoulder, and tapped a finger on a patch with a snowy peak representing the frigid place.

 

[Kairon Rees]

A particularly colourful young man addressed Loxa. Kairon immediately suspected he would be a Zeltron who'd been through some cosmetic alterations. Asmus Janes would have enjoyed such a sight. At least now that Kairon's nephew was raising a daughter he was no longer a thorn in Kairon's side, trying to get into the pants of anyone that caught his interest.

Kairon gave a slow nod as a figurative way of stepping back from the conversation. Instead he silently eyed the winged creature on Loxa's shoulder and tried to place it. Far more elegant than a Mynock, but smaller than anything of a similar description he could think of from his extensive travels.

He knew that she was able to summon them with magic, but Kairon could only assume that they were a manifestation of something real.

Or perhaps not. Magic was not a subject he could claim any expertise on.

 

[Tilon Quill]

Loxa Visl Kairon Rees

Language was one of the main reasons Loxa had come up so much in past conversations with his father. When Jend-Ro Quill had met Loxa on Pagodon, his ability to absorb or instil language had been less honed and developed, and he'd wished for some time after that he could have helped improve her Basic. Tilon could do that to a limited extent, in the right circumstances, but helpfully shoving part of a language into someone's head was so far past rude it had to qualify as some species of telepathic assault.

He did not do that. But he thought about it. The agitated little part of his mind that would always be a twelve-year-old Sith acolyte liked straight lines and simple solutions. It also didn't have much of a sense of proportion.

"I think you met my father there, Jend-Ro Quill." He offered a smile. "What brings you two to Cosm's Well? Me, I'm just waiting for the boarding notice to that ship out there, the Longjumper's Mark."

 

[Tilon Quill]

-

///BOARDING PASS
S.S. LONGJUMPER'S MARK
CLASS: CONNESTOGA
REGISTRY: ZONJU V 900ABY
PORT OF CALL: FATHER TORUS, COSM'S WELL
FLIGHT: EXGAL - YUUZHAN VONG INTERGALACTIC


NAME: QUILL, TILON
SPECIES: HUMAN (AUGMENT)
DOCK ACCESS: FT STAFF, GRADE CRESH
DEPT: COMMS
POST: AUX PROGRAM SPECIALIST XENOCOMM
BERTH: 37x
BAGS: 1

 

[Loxa Visl]

Quill.

Loxa's mind did not immediately go to the old Jedi she'd met, and would not have even recalled the name with great clarity had the boy not first reminded her of that blip of a moment in her life. She muddled through her memories, back to Pagodon, and slowly connected the dots between words she could understand and inferences made on those she could not. Loxa smiled politely.

"A Jedi called Quill is father?" her starburned hands sifted through various pockets until she found her small notebook and closed her fingers around it, "This One follow a Jedi's map. Much grateful, gave tea."

"Excuse me," said the metallic voice of a translator droid as it trundled up to the group, "Miss Visl, your boarding pass," and then handed the data card over to her.

<<You will depart on the ship Longjumper's Mark within the hour. Please have your pass ready, it will begin boarding shortly,>> the droid told her in Paecean.

<<Sante, sante,>> Loxa pushed the aviators up to her brow in order to look at the pass. Not that this helped her literacy of basic, of which she had practically none.

Her smile broadened somewhat as she realized she would be traveling with Tilon, <<A new weave,>> she remarked on that of fate's countless strings before looking to Kairon, "A Man also go on that ship?"

 

[Kairon Rees]

"Mhmm," went Kairon.

"I'm Kairon," he said to the young man. He was a kapatan of his own ship, but not this one. Kairon's face was all hard lines and a hawkish nose. He had been born to a wealthy family on Eriadu.

Captured by pirates at a young age, he had never been able to settle back down to a normal life. Some genuine merchant trade was as close to legitimate as he came.

"Nice to meet you..." he said, leaving a space for a name.

"I'm going to be running one of the landing teams I think. Outside of that with the bridge crew."

Running an operation with two freighters, even if not a perfectly legitimate business, offered some weight to his credentials.

That, or the organisers were desperate for experience.

 

[Tilon Quill]

"He was glad to help. Talked about you for quite a while. Dad does like his tea."

You couldn't spend time in Jedi and Selab archivist circles and not know what Paecean sounded like. Dathomiri witches spoke it, for one, Nightsisters included. Tilon only had a few words of it. He'd acquired some in the usual and unusual ways, but languages faded if you didn't use them.

"Tilon Quill," he said when prompted, stuffing his boarding pass alert back into his coat. "Xenolinguist, you could say. I can absorb parts of languages or share them, mind to mind. So if we meet people out there, and the translation droids can't find common ground, we'll still be able to talk with them, at least a little. Lot of landing parties ahead for me too."

He just had the one duffel. He shouldered it and gestured down the long curved promenade toward the docking doors, an invitation to walk and talk.

Loxa Visl Kairon Rees

 

[Loxa Visl]

Loxa was feeling very good about this day. Good things were happening all around. Familiar names and faces, and the assurance that her previous gift had been enjoyed. She would sleep well tonight despite the looming unknown that awaited them one long hyperspace jump away.

The witch let her sunglasses drop back to her nose and regained her usual quiet while the other two conversed. Too many words spoken far too fast for her to keep up, but she understood the gesture to walk and talk. At the very least she could do the former while the other two managed the latter, especially now that the translation droid had departed to help the next person.

She fed her tailring another grub. It flapped its wings and chirruped greedily.

Around the bend a great rusted block of a ship awaited its passengers, the call for boarding rang out over the intercom. Loxa idly thumbed her pass as she looked on and up at the hulking shard of metal. Never seen a ship like that before in her life.

 

[Kairon Rees]

"Xenolinguist, you could say. I can absorb parts of languages or share them, mind to mind. So if we meet people out there, and the translation droids can't find common ground, we'll still be able to talk with them, at least a little. Lot of landing parties ahead for me too."

"Huh," went Kairon. He knew his way around ships and starmaps. He was also a shrewd negotiator. Matters of the strange and occult were outside of his expertise.

He walked with them towards the docking doors.

"Surprise they ain't sending shuttles back and forth too," he muttered, seeing a trail of people forming to present boarding passes.

Given the size of the ship, he had to wonder just how many people were crazy enough to jump on for this ride.

Loxa idly thumbed her pass as she looked on and up at the hulking shard of metal. Never seen a ship like that before in her life.

"It might look like a brick, but going this far you wouldn't want something shiny, pretty and fragile," Kairon said.

 

[Tilon Quill]

Loxa Visl 's silence wasn't lost on Tilon. As they walked, he chewed on what he'd said and how he'd said it, and adjusted his guess at how much Basic she knew. He quietly called up a datapad function with a multilanguage translation database - not as good as a protocol droid, but enough to bridge a lot of gaps.

"Surprise they ain't sending shuttles back and forth too," he muttered, seeing a trail of people forming to present boarding passes.

"You're right," Tilon said, extricating himself from his thoughts. "There's, what, forty people at this airlock? It'll take a bit to get through. I never did find out what the crew complement's supposed to be for this. The ship-" He glanced at Loxa. "I don't know how much of the ship is for people and how much is for gear and cargo."

He handed her his datapad. It read, in somewhat busted Paecean:

Hello! I realized I was speaking too quickly before and I wanted to be sure I told you this clearly. Using the Force, I can absorb and share parts of languages, so my job on this expedition is to help with translation when the protocol droids can't find common ground. If you would ever like to share languages with me, or learn how to do this for yourself, I'd be happy to share.

She had the Force, he felt, and in far greater depth than he did.

The line was moving relatively quickly. Sooner than he'd figured, Tilon presented his boarding pass and was ushered through the airlock into the docking tube of the Longjumper's Mark. Much of the docking tube was transparent, meaning the vast rusty freighter covered almost half the sky. Tilon paused, duffel over his shoulder, for Loxa and Kairon to get through.

 

[Loxa Visl]

"It might look like a brick, but going this far you wouldn't want something shiny, pretty and fragile," Kairon said.

Loxa's smile persisted, finding that Kairon's presence and words a welcome assurance to some minor concerns growing about the state of the ship. She'd spent the last three decades of her life flying afar in a used and abused ship of her own with her sisters. Much time, credits, and effort were spent patching problems that a witch's power couldn't solve - of which were quite many when it came to technology.

This ship looked like it was used to carve shipping lanes through asteroid fields.

"This One remind of A Kapatan's ship..." she replied at length, thinking on Kairon's old but trusty boat, then blinked as a datapad was pushed into her hand. Loxa read it slowly as she shuffled along in line, flashing her boarding pass to the attendant and carefully passing through into the docking tube. Had to tilt her phrik staff to keep it from pinging against the glasteel sides. Catching up to Tion she offered him back his datapad with a head tilted in curiosity, "A Man can ... give words?"

Loxa had lived a storied life, but she'd yet to see someone simply give another an entire language.

 

[Kairon Rees]

"This One remind of A Kapatan's ship..."

"Well that was hurtful," Kairon laughed. "My ship is actually getting a new coat of paint this time. Deep blue and white"

It was going to be properly anodised to the hull this time so would last a good decade.

He paused to look through the tunnel. A long-term space, Kairon had no problem with taking a moment to reorient his concept of up and down. He pictured himself walking along the hull that they approached and looking up at a new realm of space.

Kairon didn't have a vivid imagination to picture new worlds, he merely had an exceptional spatial memory.

"My ship doesn't look too much like this?"

Apparently he wasn't letting the comment go just yet.

 

[Tilon Quill]

Catching up to Tion she offered him back his datapad with a head tilted in curiosity, "A Man can ... give words?"

It was a rare old skill that cropped up in one record or another. His father had learned it from some Gutretee elders during a tense situation with the Outer Planets Alliance. There were dramatic examples: Darth Revan, one story said, had torn the entire Rakata language from an elder's mind and made himself fluent. Tilon's ability was a drop in the bucket by comparison.

Tilon tucked the datapad away and nodded. "A little," he said. He left it at that. The offer was made: if she wanted to pursue it, he'd accommodate it; if not, that kind of telepathic contact wasn't something to press. People might be uncomfortable with the idea for any number of reasons.

"Well that was hurtful," Kairon laughed. "My ship is actually getting a new coat of paint this time. Deep blue and white"

"My ship doesn't look too much like this?"

A chuckle escaped Tilon as the glasteel docking tube led them into the extremely rusty megatransport. "What're you flying, Kairon? I know some of the crew got allotted space for their own small ships - Force knows there's enough room in there. Did you get the chance to bring yours or will you be working with the expedition's small craft?"

 

[Loxa Visl]

Loxa raised her brows at Tilon to where they just barely bridged visibly over the top rim of her aviators. Well that was something to ponder for certain. She replied with silence. Instead she focused on her potential faux pas of translation.

It was a challenge to describe just why this massive hunk of rusted metal reminded her of Kairon's ship, but in the end it all boiled down to one simple concept for her.

"No noh, forgive," she excused herself, "This One think a ship have many story," and then a placating smile to the Kapatan, "like A Man's ship."

Despite their prior harrowing adventure together in getting to Kal'shebbol, there had been small moments in between the various ordeals where Kairon or his crew had told stories of their time together at the dining table. Even if she hadn't fully understood them, Loxa easily recognized the feelings attached. In that moment she desperately missed her sisters and wondered where in the great wide galaxy they were now.

 

[Kairon Rees]

. "What're you flying, Kairon? I know some of the crew got allotted space for their own small ships - Force knows there's enough room in there. Did you get the chance to bring yours or will you be working with the expedition's small craft?"

"It's a custom Space Master, the one with with half length spine. It's in dock for repairs and hardly the kind of ship we'd need I guess," he replied.

placating smile to the Kapatan, "like A Man's ship."

"Good," he said. His attempt to hide the little smirk of pride failed. He liked his ship too. When he had stolen it he had intended to trade it in for something more suitable for pirating.

"Guess I look like I have a lot of stories too," he mused, with one last look at the battered ship. "Best go find cabins before we get ready for pulling away."

 

[Tilon Quill]

That sounded sensible. Tilon fished out his datapad again and called up the boarding pass. "Looks like I'm in berth 37x." He squinted through crowded crew at the nearest map of the ship. High and tilted so many could view it at once, it showed major trunkline routes with rounded corners and a blizzard of icons. There were several areas designated as crew quarters. Someone tapped a control and a portion of the routes lit up blue, leading to hab zones. Everyone else was looking for cabins too.

"See you around, Kairon, Loxa. Great to meet you both." The excitement of the trip was welling up again. He'd become a Jedi Knight at sixteen and, yes, he'd seen wonders — but also a difficult life without much room to dream. What a break, then, achieving a berth on an extragalactic expedition not for duty but to become...more.

---

The Longjumper's Mark had taken on crew and supplies at several ports. Father Torus was the last. The station, puny next to the ship, drifted and then fell behind. Huge hyperdrive motivators roared and thrummed through the deck plates. The quartet of aftermarket FTL engines had been intended for a brace of command ships. Any one of them would have been outsized even for a Connestoga superfreighter like this. Together they'd pull a blistering point-three across a literally unprecedented range.

From here it was a long straightaway to the first intermediate point, some perfectly aligned spot in the intergalactic void. The huge ship would assess fuel consumption and engine stress, drop comm relays, take scans, refine its trajectory, take its time before the next straightaway. There wasn't much to do for someone like Tilon once he'd met the comms staff and settled in.

The jump was over and done almost before Tilon made it to the nearest observation deck.

The stars were muted out here. Those were galaxies, he remembered. His home galaxy, and its little crown of satellites, was still in view to aft. It would dwindle with each successive jump until it was just another point of light. Nobody had ever, ever seen that before.

He found himself clutching the rail beneath a vast transparisteel window, in the grip of something like existential crisis crossed with vertigo.

Kairon Rees Loxa Visl