Overture; The Nebula

[Rahab Aapofi]

Rahab didn't know where she was headed. Not that it mattered, just as long as she was far, far away from the planet she once called home. She had been, since she left, hopping from one passenger ship to the next and if no passenger ship had been at the docks at the time, she would take any transport ship that was willing to take her payment. And, thus far, they all had been willing to. She imagined it be hard to find someone that wouldn't bend to payment these days. Where ever this ship was taking her, it was going to be her final stop; for now.

Her funds weren't depleted yet but it was becoming too close for her liking. Rahab hoped whatever she was going would be having a mild economic depression. Best case scenario, she left would at least have enough to last her a distant moon cycle before trying to find work in a strange world.

Presently, she sat in a crammed sitting area that, according her ticket that was void of any real useful information, was the coach. It was terribly stuffy, with the amount of fresh oxygen getting to them questionable. It was equally terribly crowded. Rahab couldn't yet tell if her travels had made her more tolerable of others or less. The only thing she knew was that she was tired of being on the move. She couldn't wait to sink into something; be it a soft surface or a hot bathing liquid, preferably water but she'd settle for anything her skin could handle at this point.

Touching her knee with his knee (she assumed it was a man and that he would then use he based on a convention she understood) was a man of a race that she didn't recognize. He was eating some sort of long long sandwich. The man had bits of flesh that dangled and hung from his face and they twisted and twirled like gravecatcher's vines but didn't seem to serve a purpose as elegant or organic than the plants of homeworld did. A strange feeling washed over her and she consciously pushed it down.

Which was, frankly, easy to do at the moment because she could focus on this man's smacking and slurping sounds he was making as he ate. It was making her muscles in her shoulders and here and there feel tight like she was a spring being wound up. She tried to count to ten.

A mother, she assumed based on a convention that she understood, had an infant with her and a young child with her who looked as miserable as she felt and the commiserate relaxed her. The child with wide eyes and a flat pale face turned its head, possibly feeling Rahab's gaze on it. She smiled and the child did not return the smile. That was okay. She let the expression rest on her face while she looked over the family. They were huddled in between shipping crates even tho there was space for her to sit on the seats. She seemed to be nervously breast feeding, stopping to glance around with her adult sized wide face and wide eyes. The whole family was wrapped and wreathed in white cloth that looked surprisingly clean. Every time the mother stopped to look around her baby would wail. The child was holding the shipping crates in place as every so often they would glide unprovoked across the smooth black surface of the floor and knock into someone. During the trip a passenger would react to a box crushing their toes and would send that box ricocheting into the others like a game of glass eyes. It all made the tiny space feel like sleeping quarters on a ship. Rahab had never been sea sick before but she figured it must feel like something like this. The ship could not get to its destination sooner.

She pulled her hands into the sleeves of her robes, the momentary distraction of the family having faded in their brief effectiveness to distract her from the offending sounds and just general Everything about this moment. Clutching and unclutching them, she started to count again. Her robes looked but were not obstructing, hiding form but not function. It was a simple featureless robe that was just; grey like the cold metal seats they were all sitting on. Grey like the after image of stars passing by. Gray like the jostling cargo boxes. Her clothes were in better condition than most of her cargo mates but not all of them. The edges were becoming to fray and spots were getting worn, and her robe needed a good bath too.

As the baby started up a fresh chorus of cries, the man besides her started to eat even louder like some kind of awful auditorial competition had be issued. The steady, careful counting from ten and back again was no longer doing it. Rahab opted to count the stars until the ship finally landed in the docking bay.

*~*

No call came over any sort of intercom to indicate where the ship had docked. Earlier, she had checked her ticket but it had no useful information so Rahab tucked it back into her luggage, but at the time she did not seal her luggage completely nor did she check it as she was waiting her turn to exit the ship. It felt like the longest wait ever in her young life but the shuffled off with the other passengers went quick without any thought of her surroundings. Its strange how quickly things become mundane, just muscle movements no one gives much thought too.

The docking bay was slightly busy. The feeling of movement mixing with the every day mechanics of the people who made their home here and service their ships here. She had been in nicer bays but she had also been in worse. She was, standing right in the flow of traffic and most people had enough sense to walk around her and just glance back, looking insulted that they had to make the extra effort to move around her her.

She was finally freed from that awful box! Rahab took her hood off to really enjoy the fresher air of the bay. She attempted to straighten her hair with just her free hand. Her hair, a motley of black and white, was in four braids, two on either side, both pinned like hoops or lassos or the opening of a noose. Even out from the shadow of the hood of her robe she looked a little washed out, her skin had the tone of someone who once was golden under a brilliant sun was now a sort of sandy, ashy; tired. Her complexion was interrupted by sprawling white splotches like ink blots on her skin.

Rahab took in the passing sounds, the sensations of a new environment and new stimuli. Her exhaustion and concerns about where she was momentarily forgotten as she enjoying being in the present when; someone from behind ran into her, sending her luggage which she had but a loose grip on flying ahead in front of her while the person who had bumped her carried on like nothing had happened. They had a sort twin conical growth coming from their wrinkly face and were easily twice the size of her, which was an easy task to stand to as she was very short as far as most human races went. For a brief second, it felt like her body was filling up with hot air, a boiling steam, that she could only release between her teeth in a form of a big exhalation. And that second passed, and so she got down on the ground to gather her things up. She didn't have much and it was all strewn before her, Rahab was gathering up her clothes, taking care to fold them each at a time as she did when she stopped.

In her hand she held the only thing she took with her from her homeworld. It was a small statuette. The craftmanship was evident even in a size this small and it was the only thing she hadn't been willing to part with and likely now she wouldn't even be able to sell it if she could unless someone was in the market for a pebbles worth of crystal. Rahab carefully rolled the fish representing the mother goddess in her palm of her hand. It had been a gift. The impact had caused cracks to form all along it, like a spider's web but somehow it hadn't shattered. This made her feel something she had neither the time or the place to unpack while she was packing her things back up. She simply thanking the blessing of luck and with attention and care rolled the crystal fish into her clothing and went back to gathering her things.

The crowd had thinned out and were moving around her like a school swimming around a jutted rock in a downward stream.

[Slade Xandir]

The best thing about meditating was that it was an easy way to escape. That was something Mercy needed in these few hours of being in this very terminal, listening to a damn baby yowling and a squid man munching. Otherwise, the volcanic girl would have just massacred everyone aboard, whether they had even initially been noisy, or not. Atleast it would have been silent. But today wasn't the day, nor was it the time for a good slaughtering. Because just what kicks do you get out of killing a baby just for doing baby things?

The now 20 year old Sith Apprentice was sitting crosslegged in the hold of the ship, just waiting for the end of it all, whether it be them landing or a freak accident to pop off so she could find a reason to get off, prematurely. Okay, yea, maybe this meditating thing wasn't working out for her the way it should've. Maybe she was just feeling antsy, like she always did, when it came to large groups of people in one congealing mass all around her. It was a blessing once the ship stopped and everyone began to pile out faster than a bantha herd. Unfourtionate for her, a fellow human got caught in the stampede just behind her, and she watched as a freak-of-an-organism alien tried to shoot past a petite girl. Innocent and even more childish appearance with her hairstyle choice, but it instinctively riled up Mercy's unending fury. Whirling like a panther, the Sithette went from an average beaut to a hellstorm as she snatched the ends of the tunic the offending alien had as a shirt. Being dragged behind the crowd, he was definitely over double Mercy's size, as she too was rather short for a human. Hazels gleamed through a fray of long and dark brunette tresses, a wall-like curtain of hair that just stayed covering over 75 percent of her fair face. Her half leather gloved hand whipped around from the end of his tunic to the front of it, holding him like she was the same size as he was.

Mercy dragged the surprised alien to where the kneeling girl was, her voice coming out like the savage growl that most 20 year old women had when they planned on ripping your heart out. It was clear that despite his size, he was nothing more than someone trying to get by, but Mercy had picked up a bad trait from her Master, which was trying to teach manners. Now, his more-psychotic-than-she methods included killing him just after making him kneel before his crimes, or showing him up in some lethal way that had reason involved, but she just wanted to hear an apology now, and if she had the chance, she would track him down later. Damn whatever-it-is shoulda been happy it was her seeing this today, instead of Blood.

"Apologize for bumping her, or I will not have a problem adding your spine to my collection," Mercy snarled at the alien she had snatched up.

His assemble of clothing made it seem as though he were a bit more on the lavish side of life, if one could call it that. But Mercy didn't compare in her usual black on black color essemble. Cargo pants that were kept tight for mobility reasons, combat boots for ass kicking reasons, and a tank top for comfortablity reasons. Well, hell, it was hot here on Tattooine, and she had to atleast be prepared for the ride here. She already knew she was gonna get hot and sticky, whether it be from spilled blood or just sweat. Or both. Atleast it washed easy out from black clothes.
Her saber hung in a wrist mounted sliding device that was on the underside of her forearm of her left arm. It was a new method of conceal, apparently, as Lord Blood had put it, along with a swifter draw. She had to admit; it did look sick when she drawed it, along with it being fasted to have ready, that too was true.
And she had no problem whipping it out if this damn alien had a problem with saying sorry.

[Rahab Aapofi]

Because she had been so absorbed in packing and folding of her belongings, Rahab did not see the approaching woman with the man who had bumped into her en-tow until they were but a few more strides away from her. She gave a start and froze, for a beat, before exhaling through her nose (which was round and rose up her face slightly before falling back down in to what was mostly a nonexistent bridge) before picking up her pace.

Rahab just secured her luggage, properly this time, when the pair stopped in front of her. She looked around with her grey eyes for the exits points of this docking bay, attempting to be as inconspicuous with this act as possible, but her brow (The area of her brows had been shave but the faintest bit of stubble was prickling up on her brow line. What once had served for eyebrowsinstead of hair were two shapes, tho what they had once been was now impossible to tell, just a faded, vaguely purple tinted blur of pigment remained) was knotted and her lips (the only feature of her face that was pronounced in any way, but nothing dramatic, an indent ran up and down the middle of her lips; a mark created by scarification) pursed.

“No,” She managed to stammer out, still uncertain of what to do, her voice soft and slight like the entirety of her, “No need."

Basic wasn’t a language that she was completely comfortable speaking, having only a rudimentary understanding of it before she left her homeworld. Rahab picked up what she needed of it quickly, through the osmosis of her journey. There was a half second hesitation between words as she searched for the right ones to use, “I do not want any trouble.”

She assumed this was some sort of performance. It was hard to turn down an honest beggar using means such as this, but this was going a bit far and she didn’t want to draw any attention a spectacle like this might attract. There wasn’t a single thought in her mind that this was, an extreme, but legitimate gesture; a genuine acton her behalf.

[Slade Xandir]

"“No...No need.", the soft lilt came out in a shaky wobble of words. Modest and meek they were, and Mercy was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She had a deep sickness for weak people, especially when they were fully capable of being strong, capable of taking care of themselves, just as she was. But she also knew there was no one like her, so she couldn't just walk away from this situation she had just made.

Looking back to the irritating alienoid she had snatched up, she grit her teeth and just shoved him away. Lucky twerp. "Don't let me catch you outside these doors, mutant boy," she growled at the stunned and now fleeing alien. It was then she turned back to the young and seemingly stranger by the second girl who was finishing up packing her fallen things.

"Do you need any help?" Mercy offered, hazel eyes meeting the subtle greys of the kneeling girl. She didn't seem like a mean girl, someone who too, was just trying to get by. Did she have a goal in life? Somewhere worth going? A home to head to?

"I'm sorry if I kinda mighta frightened you, honest," She admitted more openly than she initially expected herself capable of doing. "Do you have anywhere to go? It is kinda hard of a planet you turned up on; living isn't easy, here."

Mercy stood upright fully, stretching her back as she did. Suppressing a yawn with a half gloved hand, she offered the other, just in case the girl might want some help getting back to her feet.

[Rahab Aapofi]

Rahab drew her luggage closer to her, so that it was right besides her on the floor as she watched this scene unfold in front of her. She figured that she might as well be a good member of the audience and play along until the other got bored. These situations, in her opinion, were best defused with casual indifference.

She kept the other woman's gaze, breaking it for just a moment to stand, which she did in a fluid motion. Her hand in a tight grip around the handle of her belongings. She took the woman's face in, her form, trying to see the intention of her actions behind her eyes, in her face, in her body language.

"Thank you, but I am fine," Rahab said, letting her line of sight slip pass the woman to wear the other had gone off to. At least she now knew where one of the exits were but, was that a viable one, if he was waiting outside for what she assumed to be her partner was? She'd have to find another one or make a dash fast enough to not be ensnared in a trap when it came to it.

She brought her attention back, looking a bit apologetic at the pro-offered hand. If it was, as she thought, a ruse its not like she wanted to get any closer than she already was. This woman looked like she could clear the gap between them quickly.

"I am just passing through," She lied. She hoped the woman was just feeding her lines. Rahab figured she could cast her chances and carry on to the next planet but then she would be completely drained of her resources, not just financial. The feelings of travel rested heavy on her bones, she could feel it in her joints. Rahab just wanted to rest in some place that wasn't cramp, crowded and dirty. She didn't understand why so many beings lived so piled up on one another. She gave a fleeting, half formed thought about asking this person what planet they were on but decided just as swiftly against it. Rahab leaned her body away, letting her feet follow through that momentum and taking a few steps and hoping this woman was getting the drift.

[Slade Xandir]

Huh. Maybe she was being a bit too forward. Or maybe it was just unappreciated being nice. Or maybe she was just doing too much. But either way, Mercy had other things she coulda been doing instead of helping this little girl, but she didn't want any help. Shrugging her shoulders, Mercy cast a halfhearted line in her mind that applied this time. 'Can't save a soul that don't wanna be saved.'

"Alright then...good luck." And with that, the Sith girl turned on a rubber combat booted heel and switched away in the completely opposite direction of the running crowd. Hell, she wanted her alone time too. She had done her good deed for the day atleast, trying to help someone, but eh, not everything was meant to be changed. Some things were better left as they were.

Coming to the more empty and closed port of the terminal, Mercy sat on a lone bench and pulled out a holobook, flipping through the literature until the 6:00 mark for when the girl was supposed to leave for a contract.

[Rahab Aapofi]

“You too,” Fell out of Rahab’s mouth before she could stop it. It wasn’t much more than a mutter, she doubted the other woman even heard her. But, still, she wished she could snatch it out of the air. Lacking that ability she could only let it settle.

Rahab combed over what had just happened, still with the misunderstanding that she narrowly avoided getting robbed. She thought about the desperation it took to cause beings to act in such a way and then wondered, as she watched the woman walk away, if that’s the path this journey would take her.

It then occurred to her that had been the longest exchange Rahab had with someone else that didn’t, directly, involve the passing of currency between hands. She thought about the woman’s outstretched hand and then started to walk away from the spot that this had taken place, making her way to the known exit.

There was still that other person, but she figured she could slip by if he was still waiting around by the door.

[Slade Xandir]

As much as she didn't want to, she had to learn to trust him, again. And as much as she wanted to see him fall, the only way they could make this work is if she worked with him, and not against him. It was the only way she could advance other than just trying to Sithify herself by herself, and she just didn't know enough to commence such a hard life. So she had to face the demon in her heart and make a deal with it.

On her holowatch, she clicked in the encrypted number to Dastan's own personal communication, and hit his line with a message. Shutting her eyes against the world as if it was reality that was her enemy, she spoke into the earpiece.

"Potential Force Sensitive on Tattooine, current time 4:32, and target is female. Pale skin of dry tanned hue with unique face markings of white patches and minor black dots. Silver eyes, appearing to be between 16 and 20 years old. Hair is tied in 4 symmetrical braids on either side of head, and is currently wearing a grey robe. Approximately 5" 4' and armed with nothing to the naked eye. Target is heading to exit F72."

Taking a little longer breath than she intended, she asked, "Stall her, stalk her, or wait till you get here?"


[OOC: Alright, Wednesday, I've contacted Dast on your request, and he might come by. ^-^ ]

[Dastan Imatari]

*"I've got it."* he replied through his hemlet communicator, he drew himself up in his navigator's seat in his ship. He had already landed nearby, his retinue of droids handling the piloting and registry.

*"and am already on my way. Just let me know if they go anywhere else."* his voice sounded pleased with Mercy's track. He had tracked the disturbance here- and he sent her in to root it out.

He shot up out of his leatheris seat, turned to the door, and quickly made his way to the exit ramp. Emerging below the freighter in heavy, dark clothing covered by charcoal and matte black armor. He pulled up the hood on his worn, black-brown cowl helmet that covered his face with an angular mask.

Marching quickly out of his gate, he made his way to the other gates. Looking above the terminal hall entrances, he saw brief directionals on where the others were. Finding F, he sped off again through minimal crowd.

Reaching in to the force as he neared the last place Mercy mentioned the subject would be, he searched in a large bubble for signs of life displaying anomalies. Untapped possibility, a connection to the force. There were several people around waiting near their gates for departures. Others walking around. Something of a 'ping' from a sonar, he felt the return pull him in a direction-

Then he saw her. Couldn't have been older than he himself was when he was approached by a member of the order. Gray robe, braids, he walked quickly, boots making unapologetic thumps. There, facial marking and light eyes. She was walking the opposite direction from him.

His presence in the force was demanding. Heavy. Cold, and dark. With telekinetic power, he reached out and ever so slightly tapped her shoulder. Just once. Just enough - in case her force sensitivity was so latent she could not feel the prese ce of the dark side.

"You," was all he spoke, to get her attention. his voice digitized through the helmet's vocabulator.

[Rahab Aapofi]

(ooc: aaa i sent a message too i hope it wasn’t a bother! thank you so much!! )

Though she was eager to move on, she walked unhurried to her desired destination. As she put physical distance between her and the spot where that strange interaction took place, so too[did she distance it from her thoughts. Instead, she thought about the brief encounters she had with others during her journey. Rahab wondered if any of them had memories of her; like faint echoes of herself across the universe. It was an exhausting thought.

From there her thoughts moved to memories of being in the monastery, being surrounded by the gears and charts and delicate glass instruments, the only sources of sound other than her own noises. Uninterrupted as she mapped the holy bodies above her. She could choose to see no one and avoid the mess tangle of other people’s lives. They were as distant to her as the moons above. She had no time to pay concern to the lives being affected by the charts for as one day’s prophecy was done, the next would need to be made. She missed those days in a way that she wasn’t ready to confront. This train of thought was worse than the one before. She consciously decided to think about more practical matters.

Was there still some sort of immediate threat? Perhaps it would be wiser to wait for another wave of passengers to come through? But without knowing how long that would take, she continued to the exit and decided to just deal with it when she got there. She still needed to secure shelter as well as food and water.

She had a present, pressing notion that she should move a bit faster. Not questioning it, she picked up her pace but she didn’t get far before she felt a tap on her shoulder. Already fairly wound up and more on reflex than a conscious thought, Rahab lifted her luggage up with the intention to bludgeon before even turning to see who had tapped her.

The momentum of the swing had her turned the full way around but no one was behind her. Her mind was urging her body to move, move, move; the subconscious drifting becoming an urgent plea with herself, but the message wasn’t being relayed in full, and she was frozen in place.

If she had time to feign any kind of ignorance, it was unlikely that she would have. The man’s outfit was eye catching. What was barely seconds felt like a moment stretched across a full lunar rotation when the man spoke, breaking whatever spell that transfixed her to the spot. She shifted her weight of her feet, turning herself in a way that was very obvious body language of someone about to run as fast as they can in the opposite direction.