It's Been Far Too Long...

[Vyra Silara]

​

AA-9 Freighter Transport "The Kelesania"​

Departed From: Coruscant​

Destination: Naboo​

| [member=Kyle Ajahn] |​

The bodies began on Deck Three, strewn across their weapons down the corridor in a neat pattern. The ashy scorch marks from the blaster fire spattered along the walls were still smoking, the few lightsabers gashes along some of the doorways still glowing as they burned. Overhead, a low warning alarm pulsed periodically in tandem with the beating orange hazard bulbs, and the harsh red-orange emergency lighting washed the scene in a violent color. Vyra Silara stepped over a particularly charred Rodian missing his left arm, bending to swipe his blaster from under his torso. She checked the power pack. Fully charged. They'd been expecting a fight.

This was not how her journey home was supposed to unfold.

At first, she'd assumed their abrupt drop from hyperspace had been a simple malfunction as the Captain's voice over the comms had reassured them. But the longer they drifted through empty space the more uneasy she grew, and by the time the small explosion near the engines had sent the ship shuddering to a dead drift, she was already on her way to the bridge. Twelve thousand beings on forty-five levels wailed in panic as 'The Kelesania' listed heavily, the doors to all passenger cabins and gathering areas sealing shut under emergency lock-down.

Then they came.
From the main corridors, men and women of varying species dressed as crew and refugees drew weapons, corralling the remaining meandering passengers like sheep and shooting down guards and droids alike. They seemed to revel in the chaos, and Vyra thought it a mutiny until she glimpsed the identical red and black tattoos on their arms and necks.
Pirates. The Lylek Rim Rippers.
And from the sounds emanating from the ship-wide comms, they'd made it to the bridge already.

The voice was clear. They wanted the ship intact, reinforcements were on their way and no one would be harmed if they followed instructions, which usually meant they had other intentions for the passengers. But it was the last demand, ripe with hatred, that had given Vyra some hope: There was a Jedi Master aboard, and he would surrender himself immediately or watch the Rippers tear through the passengers one by one.
With her stealth field generator secure around her waist, all she had to do was avoid capture, find the Jedi and do whatever was necessary to help them succeed. Because Vyra knew what the Rim Rippers had in store for the stranded travelers, and if she had to blow half the ship to hell to avoid it, she would.

It didn't take her long to find the Jedi's 'trail'. As the politician slowly approached the access for Deck Two, her 'borrowed' blaster at the ready, sounds of battle echoed through the half-open blast-doors. Blaster fire, screams of rage and death, the bright, familiar hum of a lightsaber…

 

[Kyle Ajahn]

AA-9 Freighter Transport "The Kelesania"
Departed From: Coruscant
Destination: Naboo
| [member="Vyra Silara"] |

What had begun as a journey home had become a nightmare; or something out of his worst memories. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had returned to his home, or to the family he had long since left in the trail of his ascent to the rank of Jedi Master. An ascent riddled with the bodies of those too corrupt or dark for him to question his judgement. He had not hoped for a skirmish on a transport vessel, least of all one destined for the peaceful world of Naboo.

Could it not have been any other ship?

The explosion shook the transport, the passengers cried out and, in a characteristically classic turn of events, those behind the attack began to file into motion; their operation taking priority over the survival of the resisting guards and accommodation droids. What they had not counted on, he believed, was the presence of a Jedi Master; worse yet one who had given up on following the path of light as strictly as one would assume from a Jedi. The gray was quick to take action against those who had begun to raise their weapons in his vicinity, late to respond properly.

Brandishing one of his sabers, focusing down one of the many pirates as he did so, the gray began to make his way through the ships many halls and levels in a hope to reach the bridge. An effort that was otherwise simple and lacking in complex resistance until the pirates became aware of his presence. Whether they had accessed the passenger log or been informed by the captain he could not know, but it was by this notion that the pirates behavior changed in a snap beat that hardly gave him purchase. As quickly as he had begun his fight against these pirates, they had turned the tables.

Thus he found himself on the bridge.

Surrounded, outnumbered and seemingly outsmarted, the gray strayed his gaze across the room with wary eyes. Each time they opened fire he used his natural born, inherited echani reflexes to aid in his deflection of their fire. Several screamed out in pain, their bodies crumbling to the floor unceremoniously, but others remained determined as the leader of the pirates continued to stare him down. Their leader was clever but it was clear that his wishes were not going to be met until the gray was dead or unconscious.

Something that the lone warrior was not about to let come to pass.

In a single motion, hoping to bring down the leader along with a good number of his flunkies, the gray reached out with the Force to blast a number of the pirates off their feet. Unfortunately, while the pulse had been successful, the snap of a blaster bolt followed by the scent of charred flesh was enough to deter the warrior for a moment longer.

This was not going as planned.

 

[Vyra Silara]

| [member="Kyle Ajahn"] |​

As the bolts flew and the Jedi fought, the Leader sat safely in the captain’s chair behind his men, fixated entirely on the Force wielder. He stood, stepping forward with his blaster raised as if intending to speak as he entered the battle, but was blown backwards rather ungracefully into the chair once more as the Force sent him and his men sprawling. Most scrambled back up quickly, although two lay motionless where they'd fallen, having struck their heads on the edge of one of the consoles. But something lit behind his eyes as a bolt found its target in the Jedi's flesh.

To his right knelt the remaining bridge crew and the captain of The Kelesania, hands atop their heads, faces white with fear. All except the captain. His eyes flicked keenly around the room, watching, studying, waiting for any opportunity to take back his bridge. There were thousands of people depending on him and he refused to go down without a proper fight. Aside from the one guarding him with a blaster, there were now seven still standing including the Leader. If he could just rally his captive men long enough to grab one of those blasters…

"Enough!" The Leader rose once more, breaking the small, misshapen circle of pirates 'surrounding' their powerful prey. His men begrudgingly paused their assault but kept their weapons trained on the Jedi as their Leader brought his own to bear. "Enough. You," he spat at the Force Master, "were told to surrender, not burn your way through my men and assault my bridge with your magic." A pause. The beating of the alarms filled the gap, the red-orange emergency lights roiling over his face.

Behind him, the Captain tensed. The Jedi was their only hope here. If he died…

The Leader cracked a wicked smile. "They wanted you alive, so I can't make you pay. But someone will. Jashin!" He barked at the man holding a blaster to the rest of the bridge crew. "There are twelve thousand people on this ship. Let's make it eleven thou—AGGHKK!!" Three blaster shots whined through the air and the Leader keeled over dead, the bolt holes in his back smoking.

The air shimmered behind where he'd stood, and for just a moment, Vyra was mostly visible as her stealth field generator recycled, flickering in and out. The rest of the bridge froze, stunned, but there was no time for her to stop and study the man with the lightsaber. The momentary lull was an opportunity she couldn't waste, because her only saving grace here was the element of surprise. Without that and without a blaster, she was useless here. Swiveling quickly, she squeezed the trigger a few times at Jashin who dropped his blaster and fell flat on his face. "Captain, now!" she yelled, kicking the Leader's weapon towards him and his men, and her belt whirred back into action and she was gone, diving invisibly for cover behind the main console as the bridge crew sprang into action and the pirates began firing wildly, leaderless and enraged. A bolt hit her thigh before she had time to scrambled fully behind her cover, and she dragged her leg with her as she tucked herself in a corner, blaster still in hand, gripping her burnt flesh in pain.

 

[Kyle Ajahn]

| [member="Vyra Silara"] |​

​

How had it come to this?

The question was irrelevant but all the gray jedi could muster to his train of thought as he stood surrounded on all sides. The flesh of his arm burned, his sight wavered momentarily from the pain and yet he maintained the tight grip on his weapons. These pirates were beyond the intelligence of those he'd have faced in years prior, with knowledge only the most skilled should possess. They had known he was aboard the ship, arranged their plan around his presence and ultimately thwarted his attempt at liberating the ship on his own.

Were he as prideful as he had been in his youth, he would have considered this a disparaging humiliation.

He did not respond when the pirate leader spoke, his eyes fixed on the ugly karks mugg, but his posture did change. Shifting his wait, loosening and tightening his grip on his lightsabers, he tilted his composure from offensive to defensive in a manner of seconds while the pirate began to make his threat. A threat that was all too clear and one that the gray could not prevent, much to the chagrin of his already wavering resolve. Were he not to act quickly he knew that this would end just as the pirate hoped; or far, far worse.

Yet, even as Kyle began to lose his resolve, the captain was struck dead where he stood. His body crumbled and Kyle turned to see where the bolt had come from just long enough to see a woman before she dove back into action. Furrowing his brow he struggled to wrap his head around any comprehension of the situation, stunned by the sudden event, before turning his attention back to the now angered and leaderless pirates. Rekindled and resolved Kyle leaped back into action with a fury that had not been present previously, determined not to be undone a second time.

In a flurry of motion, with an inhuman burst of speed, the pirates one by one began to fall limbless or weaponless to the floor. The captain had capped a shot or two, but the space in which Kyle stood was now empty and he now stood just feet from where the pirate leader's body had fallen.

"It's done, tend to your crew and passengers, captain." His voice came as he hard pressed to even his breathing, still searching for the woman who had once again vanished in all but her presence in the Force. Unfortunately he did not have time to continue his search as he once again went to work deflecting blaster bolts; the pirates had lost but they were far from defeated. Only once they had been put down would his curiosity be sated.

 

[Vyra Silara]

| [member="Kyle Ajahn"] |​

That voice.
She knew that voice…didn't she?

The realization was there at the tip of her thoughts, old memories tingling, but the answer remained evasive. Priorities first, mysteries later. There were still things to address for the safety of ‘The Kelesania’.

As the last Ripper body fell, Vyra dropped her blaster, switched off her stealth field and hauled herself to her feet with effort, half draping herself over the main console as she gripped the sides of it for support. Pain twisted her face. She'd endured far, far worse than the burning hole in her thigh, but she'd found little truth in the idea that past pain built tougher tolerance for future pain. A blaster bolt hurt just as much now as it had seven years ago, and there was no point in trying to hide that.

The captain was in her line of sight, his men scrambling (and limping) around the bridge in a flurry of anxious activity, pulling pirate bodies out of the way and checking systems for damage in the firefight. “You have my thanks, Master Jedi,” he said earnestly to the Force wielder in front of him, clapping him on the shoulder and nodding his gratitude, “and that of my crew. Without you and your friend we’d have lost everything. But the battle isn’t over yet, I suspect. I’ll find you once my bridge is back in order—”

“There’s more.” Vyra swallowed, her mouth dry as she pushed herself upright and pulled herself together as best she could.

The captain turned to face her, blocking the Jedi’s view. His eyes fell to her wounded leg. "Ma'am? Are you alri—"

“They've set up a small force in the engine rooms and they were scattered across the passenger decks holding hostages," she continued without pause. Time was of the essence if they wanted to take back their ship and manners would have to wait. "The hallways to Deck Five were clear when I arrived, but beyond that…"

He frowned. If he was concerned, he didn't show it, but she could see the wheels of his mind turning behind his expression. “I don't have the numbers here to stage a full-on attack. The rest of my men below..?"

"Dead." Vyra shook her head. "They were the first to go. The pirates knew who to target, knew the ship intimately, the codes and controls for the computers-"

"An inside job, they had help," he agreed, expression darkening. Sparks erupted from a screen nearby, blaster bolt holes smoking across the console below as the picture flickered on and off. The captain gestured to his deckhands. "Get these fires under control! I want all weapons gathered and handed out. Forza! I need a small strike team, anyone able to point and shoot, we've got a small window of opportunity here and I don't intend to waste it. And keep us at emergency status, I don't want anything tipping off the rest of the ship." The captain's voice softened the slightest as he faced Vyra once more. "That leg needs to be looked at, ma'am."

Immediately, she lifted her chin a bit in small defiance. "Your concern is noted, Captain, but I'll do you no good in medbay—"

He wouldn't hear of it, steamrolling over her insistence. "You've done your part already, we wouldn't be having this conversation without your efforts."

"But I—"

"We have a small medical unit on Deck Two reserved for staff, I'd take you myself but I'm needed here. I'll send someone over to escort you, miss…?"

She sighed, defeated for the moment. "Vyra."

"Miss Vyra." He nodded his thanks as his name was called from across the bridge. "We'll speak later when this is over, if luck holds. Please, wait there, I'll have you to the medroom in no time." And he charged into the fray of damaged computers and blaring alarms.

Clinging to the pylon, her line of vision now open, Vyra found herself staring at the Jedi she'd aided. And suddenly, the familiar voice made sense. The din of the bridge seemed to melt away as bits and pieces of memories rose through the pain, bringing his name with them. "…Kyle?" she murmured wondrously.