A Rough Road Leads to the Stars (Rebellion)

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A Rough Road Leads to the Stars (Rebellion)

Posts: 1584

The Smuggler...

The heat of the moment had passed, and Leia seemed to regain some of her objectivity as she listened to Han's explanation. His answer covered the where, when, and how adequately enough, but it failed to touch on the one thing that mattered most to Leia - why?

She knew that Han would not openly volunteer that information, and the prospect of asking him made her uncomfortable. Not to mention their audience...

"There's nothing we can do about it now" Leia responded at last, belatedly realizing that bursting out of the meeting to run after Han had probably been a mistake. "If they plan on making you stick around a while, we should try to meet later. It would be nice to catch up on things."

"Yeah" Han answered, wearing his sabaac face. "I'm sure they can give you my number."

Leia's mouth opened reflexively to deliver some witty retort characteristic of their old banter, but her heart just wasn't in it.

"I... need to get back to the meeting. Take care of yourself, Han."

***

The Rebellion Leadership...

"Ah, Leia... just in time" Tralpesh greeted Leia as she entered the meeting room, "specialist Garniere was just about to give us some good news." The Calamarian leader waved a flippered hand towards a man standing at the head of the conference table wearing what could have passed for a grey flight uniform. "Specialist, would you mind starting over to bring everyone up to speed?"

"Yes, sir" the man responded crisply. His mannerisms seemed to suggest that his background included Imperial military training. "Several days ago I was tasked with the assignment of finding and securing an operational ship capable of transporting us off of this planet. It took some scrounging, but I believe the ship I have found has the potential to greatly exceed our expectations." The man activated a holocube and set it down on the table. Everyone in the room moved closer to the table to squint at the small holographic image of a ship that flickered into existence.

"Home One, flagship of the original Rebel Alliance" Specialist Garniere announced confidently.

"Home One...?" Maklo echoed thoughtfully. "The Republic decomissioned that ship years ago, it was probably put in dry dock and stripped for spare parts. Think it even has a sublight drive?"

Garniere smiled amiably. "Actually the Calamarian government had plans to convert it into a museum commemorating the Galactic Civil War, back before the New Order became a threat. The resources for the project were eventually redirected to support the war effort, so they just never got around to it. The military did strip a lot of it's combat systems to service other ships in the fleet, but they never touched the drives; I guess they figured one day they would be able to resume the project."

"Our timeframe is short" Tralpesh announced, effectively asserting control over the conversation. "How fast can we locate the ship and gather a report on it's condition?"

"The squadron is suiting up over in the warehouse as we speak, with your approval we can launch the birds for a recon mission within the hour" Garniere glanced pointedly at his wrist chrono.

"Then make it so. Maklo, I want you to assemble our crew just in case."

Specialist Garniere and Commander Maklo both took their leave from the room, leaving only Tralpesh, Kalbrac, the Quarren, and Leia.

"If you do somehow manage to get that ship running, and somehow get everyone onto it... where will you go?" Leia prodded gently.

Tralpesh reguarded her warmly. "There is only one nearby government who might sympathize with us and grant us protection."

Leia's brow creased in thought. "The Confederation?"

"The Confederation."

Lance McCallister

Posts: 86

[font=Trebuchet MS]In a place that has no end...at a time that has no meaning.
Also, some time after the above.
[/font]
[font=Georgia]The evening had come quickly, and had only brought with it more of the torment and haunting feelings that had been associated with the strange visits of the morning. Everything about the voice had seemed odd, down to the very person it had been. Trying to draw his mind off of it, the ex-major settled in very early that evening, looking forward to a good night's rest.

It took a good half-hour of protracted wide-eyed silence before he remembered that he didn't sleep anymore. Sighing to himself, Lance got up, shaking his head as he moved over to the small opening in the tent, stepping out into the calm air of the Mon Calamari night. The breeze that greeted him was cool, and he enjoyed it for what it represented: some small measure of peacefulness that he could actually feel, much unlike the rest of the galaxy's eternal sentiment of oppression and bloodshed.

Stepping completely into the breeze, however, simply gave the voice room to resurface, as though it had sensed him and sought some measure of his time. Considering that it was him, effectively, there was no way to doubt that it could demand his time, and get it. It could always just pester him if he never responded. Fortunately, the commando could go about his business in the camp relatively undisturbed by everyone else; the others had already heard enough rumors that they knew to just stay away if they valued their hides.[/font]

[font=Book Antiqua]"So who are you, really?" the soldier asked, his words already sounding quite perturbed. He had plenty of good reason to be, what with how this spectre had already treated him before. Confusion and frustration were not things he tolerated...part of his days as an Imperial, perhaps.

The spectral voice must have been smiling as it replied. "Why, I am you."

"I got that when I figured out that you sounded like me. Doesn't answer the question, though."

There was a distinct chuckle inside the major's mind, obviously the sound of the other voice finding something extremely funny. "I get it. You need not worry; I am your future self."

For a brief second, Lance almost wanted to scream. If he did, though, it likely would have also manifested out in the physical plane, and that would have caught some unwanted attention. "Bullshit," he finally managed after a minute of stunned silence. "Future isn't set in stone."

"No," the voice agreed, "the future is not. Yet some parts of it are, based on what we do now." Here, it seemed to sound like another smile had graced its unseen features. "Take what you are about to do, for example. Whatever you do here will affect your future."

"Then why don't you show me what I become?"

"If I do, your knowledge of your future will undoubtedly change it." The strange voice chuckled some more. "See, I'd say they missed something back in Imperial Academy, but you went for soldier training, not that fancy temporal physics shit."

Lance's emotions took on a distinct, vibrant anger at that point. "Look... Maybe you do sound like me. Maybe you do talk like me. That doesn't mean you are me; now leave me the fuck alone. I have a life to live."

[/font][font=Georgia]The mental conversation felt like it had gone on for hours on end; in reality, it had only been a few minutes. When it was over, the commando felt oddly...relieved. Not completely, but at least enough that he could think straighter, now that the voice was content to leave him alone.

Of the entire discussion, the part that he remembered clearest of all was the argument between choice and destiny, and he would probably be meditating on that later, when he had some spare time. For now, however, there was the inability to sleep, and the need to spend some time clearing his head, lest it become nothing more than a mess.

On the topic of the mess, that is exactly where Lance went next; perhaps eating something would take the edge off...even if it imparted a sense of nausea in him at the same time. The mess tent was big enough that he could also hide in it if he wanted...hide from himself, even.

...Hide...or find someone. The second he walked in, his eyes scanned the hall, and he found within the tent the one person he had been trying to find all along, and secretly didn't want to locate. Without making a show out of it, almost as though it was just some casual thing and he'd really just been interested in sitting at that table at that time, the major grabbed a bowl of what passed for the soup of the day, and parked himself directly across from, of all people, Leia Organa Solo.
[/font]

Leia Organa Solo

Posts: 1584

Aftermath.

“Leia…? Leia!”

Something broad and hard made sharp contact with both of Leia’s cheeks, literally knocking the Jedi Master back to her senses. And she was not happy about it.

“Han Solo! You smelly wombat, if you ever hit me again so help me I’ll…” she began angrily through clenched teeth, her eyes tearing as she blinked against some source of bright light. She could barely make out the shape of a blurry figure hovering over her…

“Han…?” The voice that interrupted her tirade was female, and the female sounded confused. “Leia, Han isn’t here.” Soft hands brushed against Leia’s face, perhaps attempting to soothe her. She felt something warm and wet smear on one side of her face, and the female voice softly cursed. “I can’t get this bleeding stopped; it’s coming from under her hair somewhere.”

“HAN!!!!” Leia yelled at the top of her lungs, attempting to push the blurry figures off of her so she could sit up to find him.

“Gods damn it Amalia, there’s blood everywhere…” a second voice chimed in frantically, this one male.

“Then hold her down! I only have two arms…” the female snapped in return.

“Amalia…?” Leia allowed herself to fall limp; the world was spinning around her. “The Calamarians, what happened to them?”

“The Calamarians are fine, the evacuation is almost over” the male voice answered angrily. “You have a lot of explaining to do, and you can start with why you were on that piece of junk ship when the Vigil sent a transport for you two days ago! You’re lucky you were already in orbit when the nav system failed, and even luckier that you only clipped a satellite…”

“Not now, Tyscio! She probably has a concussion anyways, help me get her vac suit off.” Leia could feel Amalia prying at the neck seal of her vacuum suit with one hand as she pressed a bandage against the side of her head with the other.

“Tyscio…? Where’s Han?” Leia continued with her demands, although more subdued.

“She’s pregnant with my twins, and after she goes and nearly kills herself here she lays yelling her ex husband’s name…” Tyscio was grumbling, causing Amalia to look up sharply.

“She’s pregnant?!”

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