The Blood Hound
A lot of things happen when one's away. Especially when one is away to a place beyond reach of anyone they had ever known. Well, almost everyone. Her sister had been with her. A few of her friends as well. But when had appeared to be roughly a year or two for the infamous Scherezade deWinter, had lasted a good decade inside the galaxy. And this, was more or less the only information she managed to acquire before the asteroid storm hit her ship harder than expected.
It spiraled around itself, the force it had been hit with having been too much for the lousy shields to handle. Everything was beeping, red lights were flaring in the control center, and for some reason an oxygen mask had popped out of the ceiling. Scherezade had blinked at that. She'd never even realized oxygen masks had been installed in her ship at any point.
However, there wasn't too much time to dwell upon the matter. With the loss of control and comms, and the fact that her dislike for seatbelts wasn't merely biting her in the butt, but more like tossing her around like a ragdoll in her ship, all she could do was do her best to not get hit in too sensitive places, too hard. However, as was perfectly natural in instances such as these, she failed to keep this up as well.
When next her eyes opened, it wasn't the visage of far away stars that greeted her through her front window, but rather, a bright blue sky.
Scherezade groaned. Her face hurt somewhat, and she could see in her reflection against the metallic walls that at least one purple bruise already covered it. She gently touched it, and assumed it had been a good few hours. A good few hours of… Of what, exactly? Had she been tossed ho and fo that entire time and only recently landed? No… She waved a finger through the air, yanking the cabinets of the control center open. Lukewarm at best. She'd landed all right, and it was a while ago.
On the bright side, native giant predator human-flesh loving species hadn't come to peel her out of her ship like some kind of gorram sardine can while she was out. Had to count your blessings indeed.
With a heavy sigh, the pink loving bubble of Darkness managed to pull herself to her feet. It was no easy task, for she could feel the world spinning around her as she did so, and continued to, for at least a handful of moments. Ugh. She was so not in the mood for a concussion.
What she was in the mood for, was to find out why the heck she was in the galaxy proper again, why the heck it had been a decade (unless she's hallucinated that part – totally optional, considering her current state. But if she was considering that it had been an hallucination, didn't it mean that she was fine? Hah, no).
But okay. Let's assume, for the moment being, that it had indeed been a decade. That meant she'd returned, or been returned (to be discovered later), to a spot in time where… Well. She didn't know almost anything about current affairs. Ten years were more than plenty for people to die, people to be born, and entire political nations to rise and fall several times over.
Limping, the woman made her way to the makeshift infirmary of her ship. The smell of her own blood was sharp in her nose, and she felt a need to get some bandaged for it.
So yeah, what were the options? Clean up. Try to discover where she'd crashed. Planet name, part of the galaxy, basically almost anything. She seriously hoped she wasn't in the territory of the many enemies she'd made in the 'verse prior to her disappearance; it would be a shame to meet them when she was not at her best, and couldn't show them just how much more chaotic awesomeness she had become in the time that had passed, even if for her it'd been so much less than a decade.
Another option, was to try to fix her comms. But, at least where she was at present, it was all nature. Her own tools… She was going to have to find them, if they'd survived that trip at all. While it was true that she kept her kitchen and bedroom extremely clean, she was an amazing klutz other than that, and the rest of the ship was quite a mess.
And of course, there was always the dumb option. The unknown option. The one that could potentially put her in a lot more danger, if the wrong people heard her call.
But what the heck.
If there was something that Scherezade was terribly good at, it was on betting the entire deck, and then dealing with the consequences, one way or another. So that would be exactly what she'd do.
Sitting on top of her washing machine in the make shift infirmary, she closed her eyes. Nope, don't go to sleep girl. Still might be a concussion. She fought through it, and let her presence be known. It had been a long time since she'd used a Force Call, so long that sometimes she wasn't sure she ever had. There was no way for her to control it, to decide who would hear it or how far. All she knew was that she would cause the twing of a part of the Web that was the Force itself, and hope someone useful, or at least someone that wasn't intent on killing her, would answer.
She also wanted breakfast.
