Kregg woke to klaxons and howls. Bestia stirred with him, easing back in the copilot's chair and rubbing her eyes. Fell's footsteps thumped against the floor behind him, then the boy himself thumped against a wall when the ship rocked. HK-47 followed and helped him up. The cockpit had gone dark, but the droid's eyes were red flames in the murk.
The white shroud of hyperspace had lifted sometime in Kregg's sleep. Outside the viewport was a void of almost pure darkness, save for a few misshapen splotches of color that changed hues when Kregg craned his neck to look. One went from purple to red to purple again; another changed from green to orange and dappled blue. The shapes quivered, too. At first Kregg thought it was just his eyes adjusting to the sight. When it happened again, and again, and then again, he paid attention at last. The nebulae quivered at certain junctures, with unsightly ripples that parted them like giblets.
The howling was shrill and relentless. Is it the gale that makes 'em look like they're moving? Kregg ignored the torrent and reached for the ship controls. The levers eased into his hands as if they were built for him, and he began to steer. He turned to Bestia, who winced as she crossed her legs together in her seat. They didn't look quite so twisted anymore.
"Alright, show me the way," Kregg said. The wind smashed into the ship and the cockpit answered with a rattle.
Bestia's eyes looked glazed over, but from the way her face was scrunched up Kregg could see she was thinking. Best think quickly, little lady. He had always wanted to die aboard his ship, lost to the boundless sea of the void, but a nebula field in some far-off corner of the Outer Rim was not what he had been thinking. Kregg kept glancing between Bestia and the mess outside, waiting to hear anything at all. A sliver of forked silver lightning snaked down in the distance amidst the wall of purple.
"Hard left," Bestia said. She sounded unsure at first, but before Kregg could so much as ask she shouted it again.
Kregg wrenched the controls as far left as he could and The Ashen One lurched against the gale. Screaming shrill above the wind was the sound of metallic scraping. Failure is bad enough, Kregg thought, but I don't know what she'll do if I tear her ship apart.
"Straighten out!" Bestia called, her voice almost drowned out by the metallic squeals. Kregg did as she said and the scraping stopped. That just left the relentless howling of the wind.
"Lemme get this straight," Kregg said as he let go of the controls. He turned to Bestia and gave her a stern look. "Your master's master brought a fekkin' capital ship through this?" Whatever the woman's answer, Kregg tuned it out. "Seems I got a lot to learn from this bastard. Keep him alive for a bit so I can learn his secrets, will you?"
There were quarrelsome whispers off to the side, the voices of Bestia and Fell. A set of metallic hinges sighed, and HK-47 said, "Resolution: I will fetch the master myself if neither of you can decide who must go. I shall return shortly." His clanking metal footsteps pattered off into the hallway behind him.
A strange sense of relief washed Kregg from head to toe once the thing was gone. Or maybe that's just sweat.
Bestia gave Kregg directions all the while. This piloting was a droll affair; moving a freighter in tandem with someone spouting off "left", "right", "straight ahead" was not his idea of flying. In his own ship, in a time long passed, Marcus Kregg flew circles around every other pilot in the galaxy. It never boiled down to him being better than the others. No, the Ghost of Fondor earned his stripes because he was inimitable, cunning, and—most of all—unpredictable. It was easier when it was all said and done to accept the label of "best", of course.
Suddenly, the guidance stopped when he reached a clearing in the nebula field. The void around pulsed black and purple, red and green, and blue and orange all at once. The oblong shapes ran with veins of red that shot through like twisted branches of blood.
"Next?" Kregg turned to Bestia. The girl lost her voice. "We're lost? In this shite?" He could get them out of it, he knew that much, but out would not necessarily be where they meant to go. The lost planet was close, he could feel it. Then my debt is done. He stalled the ship for the time being. Maybe that'll let her remember.
A squawk from behind him sent a shiver up his spine, though not so bad as the sound of the lightsaber igniting from his right. He turned in his chair to see Fell on his feet, pointing his crystal clear blade at something on the ground. It squawked again, then stood there in the shadows before letting out an impish little chortle.
Kregg bounded to his feet. "Turn that thing off!" he shouted at Fell as he approached the shadow. The thing cawed again, and soon it turned to a cackle. "Snikkit! I thought you died, you crotchety little bastard! C'mere!" Kregg stretched out his arms and the monkey-lizard came bounding into them, its talons scraping at the sleeves of his jacket in excitement. It crawled up his shoulder and plopped down to take a seat.
Fell was staring at him. "What, you've never seen man's best friend?" Kregg shrugged at him. Snikkit rubbed his beak against Kregg's ear. "Big eater, this one was." Kregg lowered himself back into the pilot's seat, taking care to mind the pet on his shoulder.
"Where the fek did that thing come from?" Fell sheathed his lightsaber. "Is there anything else you've got on our ship you'd like to let us know about?"
Kregg chuckled. "Well, had I known he was here, you would've known about him already." Snikkit let out his own little cackle. The monkey-lizard was a parting gift from a spice-running, self-styled pirate king who passed several years ago. In exchange for being warned of an impending Republic sting, the king bequeathed a quarter of his earnings to Kregg, and the money-lizard, who he claimed annoyed him to no end. Kregg took a liking to Snikkit quickly, and made him his First Mate. "Durgulla took him away when I got my chains, along with me ship. I never even knew he was still alive."
Cinder came into the room then, with HK-47 close behind her. Kregg was thankful Xira stayed in the engine room like he told her. The initial crowd of four was bad enough; this was downright claustrophobic.
"We're stopped," Cinder said. She looked down at Kregg and his companion and gave a tired sigh.
"I apologize, Lady Cinder," Bestia said. "I don't know the way from here."
Cinder looked out into the void. "No matter," she said. Her lips drew tight and she set a hand on Kregg's free shoulder. "That is why we have Marcus Kregg here, to guide our way."
I must be in the wrong line of work. Kregg wanted nothing more than to confess here and now that all his exploits were mostly blind luck. But that won't do. He found his courage and gave Snikkit a stroke under the chin. "Lady Cinder, if I may impose a moment."
"Impose, smuggler."
"A cup, in these trying times?"
Cinder laughed. "Kregg, you're the pilot."
"Aye, I am." He cracked a smile. "And the pilot wants a fekkin' drink." He laughed heartily and Snikkit followed suit. First Fell laughed with him, then Bestia let it slip, and Cinder broke last. Only the droid stood silent.
"What have we got to lose?" Cinder said. She set a hand on HK-47. "HK, fetch the smuggler something dark."
The droid spat out a sarcastic affirmation and clattered off. That sense of relief washed over him again, but faded just as quickly when Cinder leaned down over him.
"We still aren't moving," she said. "I could've gotten this far myself. Sober or no, get moving." She leaned in closer to his ear. "Or perhaps I need smoke out your broken warrior queen."
His hand reached for the handle of his gun. "I will get you where you need to be," he said through gritted teeth.
"I trust your judgment." She backed away and took position at Bestia's side, next to Fell.
HK-47 came back and tossed a small, dusty bottle to Kregg with a mocking "Catch!" It almost slid from Kregg's hands when he caught it, but he managed to squeeze his hand around the neck right before it hit the floor. Snikkit yelped as he pinched against the seat and Kregg apologized as he brought himself back up.
The stained glass turned the nectar within a dark brown. When he popped the cork, there was no pleasant smell to greet him. Dust and dirt and pisswater. Must be old shite. He guzzled it down anyway. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then turned to HK-47. "Catch, droid!" He hurled the empty bottle at the droid and smiled. The smile disappeared when HK-47 caught it with ease.
Kregg laughed at that and turned his attention back to the void before him. He wrapped his hands tight around the controls, though his grip felt clumsy and tepid. The world around him turned to streaks and blurs. The wind, before a screeching banshee's wail, turned to a demented cacophony of brass. There were voices beside him, all muffled to a point where they sounded more like warbling noise than anything coherent. None of it mattered.
Kregg put all his strength into the throttle and The Ashen One speared down.
The droning became hysterical. The voices warbled their displeasure. He identified them based on pitch. The lady was luscious, her knight gruff, the princess strident. There was the tin man too, his metallic voice prattling off in the distance. It might have even been threatening.
The viewport started spinning, and the dragon on his shoulder guffawed. That Kregg heard plain as day. Were his hands not occupied, he would have rewarded the beast with a well-earned scratch under the chin. When the laughter stopped, Kregg eased up on the throttle and started veering the ship upward.
Left. Right. Down. Up. Straight ahead. It was all second-nature to Marcus Kregg. He was back in his own skin for the first time in what felt like forever. And how glorious it felt.He did a divebomb past a snatching branch made of blood. It clawed at the ship in revenge, screaming madly all the while. More of the tendrils crept into vision. Up. Straight ahead. Just as quick they crept away. He barreled straight ahead, as fast as this freight would let him go.
They were all screaming at him now, the lady, the knight, the princess, the tin-man, even the dragon. Their voices melded and became one, dulcet and discordant all at once. There was a crimson cloud straight ahead, redder than even the heaviest of wines. Kregg smiled wide as he tore through the veil.
Streaks clawed at the viewport like frenzied claws. They pounded on the glass, madmen clinging on for dear life. As Kregg pressed on through the abyss, the crimson claws turned thin as wires and screamed as they were sucked into the void of space.
Mere moments later, the field outside was completely black with nary a speck of discolor to be seen. The ship stopped. The lady turned him around and snatched Kregg up by the collar. Her lips were moving quickly, yet there was no sound coming out. Kregg wrenched out of her grasp when she stumbled, and slammed the ship downward again. He and the dragon laughed when she stumbled into the knight's arms.
He dove for five standard minutes. It loomed just ahead, then: a fat white egg with blue mottles, wreathed in rays of green. A great white star burned off in the distance. Kregg saw the faint remains of a crumbling asteroid belt ringing the far side of the planet. That would have been so much fekkin' easier.
He opened his mouth. When the first thing that tried to come out was bile, he closed it again. After a moment, Kregg said, "There you have it." The words came out slurred and uneven. "Rhen Var." When he looked over, the lady, knight, princess, and dragon had all disappeared. Cinder, Bestia, and Fell stared at him dumbfounded. The tin-man had gone too, replaced by the skeletal form of HK-47. Even the dragon on his shoulder had vanished; it was just Snikkit there now. They're given to literal fekkin' space magic and they think I'm the strange one.
Cinder was the first to speak, though her voice sounded muffled in his aching ears. "I'm sure an LZ will be easy enough to find. This place is a wasteland."
"Yes, but that's not where we're going to want to go," Bestia said. "He's been waiting for you to come back. He'll expect you to land near the Solipsis. There's a mountain pass up above what he called the harbor. One of the crags up there should be wide enough to fit the ship."
"Very well," Cinder said, nodding towards Kregg. "Land us there." She beckoned Fell towards the door, but she stopped beside Kregg and leaned in close. "Thank you," she whispered. She raised her voice afterward and said, "Don't crash my ship. The Maw only knows what kind of damage you've already dealt it." She walked out into the hall with Fell at her side.
That left Kregg, Bestia, Snikkit, and HK-47 in the cockpit. He stared over at Bestia. She stared back, looking him up and down as if to size him up. Finally, she broke the silence. "She won't want to be kept waiting. It's not easy going in. You'll need my guidance."
Kregg chuckled. "I'm afraid ours isn't as big as the Dark Lord's." Snikkit let out a raucous belly-laugh that set his body jiggling. "But we'll manage."
Bestia rolled her eyes. "HK, have his tongue."
Kregg bit his lip when the droid came walking over. "Just the drink, droid. I meant nothing by it."
"Resignation: Insolent meatbag, the master has great need of you in one piece. I would prefer to keep her happy." HK-47 cradled an antique carbine at his chest as if it were a swaddling babe. The insignia of Aratech was emblazoned on the butt in white, though the paint had been worn away and smoothed by age. "Confession: Of course I would be happy to follow the limp one's request and tear out your fleshy facsimile of a vocabulator. Dejection: Unfortunately, it would quite displease the master. I would rather save us all the headache, and forget this ever happened."
Bestia struggled to conceal a laugh. "That was a jest too, HK. Don't go so hard on yourself." She flashed a smile at Kregg. One like Xira's.
Kregg sighed. He listened to the droid stalk down the hallway, counting each of its steps. When the clattering turned to little more than a dim echo, only then did he turn to Bestia. "Lead the way, then."