Ask Dromund Kaas Flick of the Wrist

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan had often unabashedly worn or done things entirely meant to try appealing or teasing the man he loved and he'd at least admit internally that's what this vest thing was about. The Firrerreo could appreciate a nice corset vest- he had something similar he'd been thinking of trying out in his apartment closet somewhere among a hundred other things- but he'd hesitated it bringing it out for reasons that still eluded him.

Golden eyes visibly softened at the mention twilight and skylines. Jaikus' changes in expression and genuine behaviour made Morgan uncomfortable just as much as he appreciated them. Without meaning to he was beginning to relax in what felt like the first time in a long while. It was always easy for him to tell when someone else was just being themselves as compared to the kindd of fawning, political mask that nobles always tended to wear.

But it still wasn't easy for the Firrerreo to let go of the long-standing way he'd handled other people ingrained on him nearly since birth. It was just the way his family had always been even with their own children. Casual warmth was a foreign concept even if he liked it.

"I rarely visit," Morgan replied after an uncomfortably long pause. It was the honest answer. Since he'd gone out into the greater galaxy he could even be accused- and had been- of avoiding his ancestral home. He was quiet again for another few moments. "It rarely ever goes well. But..." A complicated expression very briefly crossed his face.

"Maybe one day. Fair warning, Wallflower, it's a high gravity world. You're not going to collapse on me, are you?" And just like that he was back to the fanged and mischievous grin. As much as the events on Serenno had annoyed him Morgan found he was having much more fun than expected with the Axxilian marauder. He was bold and genuine and the Sith Lord honestly didn't entirely know how to handle that.

The trip would pass fairly uneventfully. It was only a day's travel and Jaikus had his own room, instructed not to try and enter either the captain's room or a particular sealed storage room down the hallway. The marauder was offered food but from a relatively nice pre-prepared brand rather than Morgan cooking it himself despite the obvious abundance of ingredients he kept stored. If asked he only said he didn't want to and changed the subject.

It was in the middle of eating that an alarm went off in the cockpit. Morgan immediately leapt to his feet- and the ship rocked as it was pulled from lightspeed and laser fire struck shields, threatening to send both men off-balance. The Firrerreo unceremoniously ripped the droid pilot from its seat and flung himself into its place, dragging the controls over with a snarl. Clearly he was a combat pilot because his evasive maneuvers were nowhere near gentle.

"Who-!?" he exclaimed, glancing at the sensors but unable to keep an eye on them while he flew. They were still in Sith space, how was this possible?

@Altaris

​

 

[Jaikus Thorne]

Jaikus reclined back into his seat a bit more, his arms splaying out across the spine of the couch while Morgan spoke. The Firrerreo’s rapid changes in mood and shifting expressions were something that Jaikus was able to pick up on without much difficulty, even if he rarely understood the underlying reasons for the change. As such, the uncomfortably long silence between answers and complicated expression was not lost on the Axxilan, enough to cause him to arch a brow inquisitively.

While certainly curious, Jaikus somehow knew better to pry for more details. It clearly was a topic that the Sith Lord wasn't particularly comfortable with - or so it seemed based on his reactions - and asking additional questions didn't appear likely to be productive. Instead, Jaikus fixated his attention upon the last thing the Firrerreo had said. “I look forward to the opportunity.” His smile widened a bit, a playful glint in his citrine eyes. Morgan had certainly captured his attention with the vivid description of the planet, and such a trip to the Firrerreoan homeworld was something that the Marauder immediately decided might be enjoyable.

When Morgan made his final quip about the Marauder collapsing, Jaikus couldn’t help but laugh – his light and giggly tone filling the cabin. He shook his head, that mischievousness clear across his expression. “Have no fear. I’m not quite so delicate as that.”

---​

Minutes turned to hours as the ship carved a path through hyperspace, the rest of their voyage passing without upset. There was a bit more casual conversation between the two Sith, but Jaikus eventually rose from the lounge area and made his way towards his dedicated cabin – taking the opportunity to relax and glance through his datapad before they arrived in Serenno.

The food, while not homemade, was accepted it gratefully when it arrived. While maybe a bit on the unseasoned side, there wasn’t anything particularly unpleasant about the meal – even by Jaikus’ notoriously picky standards – and the Marauder was already growing a bit hungry since leaving the palace. He had just sat down to begin cutting into his food when the alarm went off – the yacht lurching abruptly as it was yanked out of hyperspace. Instinctively, Jaikus sprang to his feet – only to be sent off balance as laser fire from an unknown source made impact with the yacht’s shields. It was send the Marauder off his balance, forcing him to brace against one of the interior walls and knocking one of the decorative air plants off the wall from the impact. Forcibly pushing himself off the wall a few seconds later, Jaikus sprinted towards the cockpit a few paces behind Morgan – weaving through the confined space and strapping himself into the co-pilot’s seat within the without missing a beat. While a comfortable vessel for travel, a cursory glance quickly revealed that the stinger yacht was sorely lacking when it came to artillery, despite the Firrerreo attempting to maneuver it like a starfighter. His jaw tightened and lips formed a hard line, citrine eyes immediately scouring the space ahead for their attackers.

“It seems they were expecting us after all.” The man spoke through gritted teeth. He was very clearly displeased at having been correct with that prediction.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan quickly whipped the ship, shifting and slipping rapidly with as much grace as he could. Long wings and secondary thruster rotated and sent Voyager into a spiraling maneuver, g-forces perilously pulling at pilot and passenger. The Firrerreo was an infamous combat pilot and the Mantis flew well under his control. However, it wasn't a starfighter and, importantly, lacked turrets.

It was still technically a yacht and whoever was chasing already had the flank.

They weren't over Serenno as evidenced by the planet visible in the distance. Dante screeched in warning near where Jaikus sat. Somehow they'd been intercepted within the Radama Void and it was Ord Radama Voyager was now screaming toward. Decorative objects fell off shelves, the remaining air plants crashing to the floor. A wine glass shattered in the background.

The Marauder would see a kind of Morgan that few rarely did. Whenever he fought or flew he wore the helm of Stolas, a blank and unreadable mask concealing fine features from prying eyes. Here in the cockpit amidst danger every expression was plain to see, unhidden and honest in the thick of a fight for their lives.

Morgan was grinning, tense and wild. Fangs bared with curled upward, golden eyes flashing at being presented a challenge. His legs flexed and pressed power pedals, both hands twisting to send Voyager careening left and then shooting downward. He cut power and flung the ship around, one attacking straggler not following closely enough. Guns thrummed above the cockpit and fired shots into space, crimson energy burning through shields and cockpit. The enemy fighter slagged and Morgan twisted around it with practiced ease.

"Apparently!" he replied in his clipped accent, a bass growl running through a voice with slight shades of excitement. "Hold tight!"

The ship rocked from enemy fire before being flung into a totally different maneuver, still approaching the planet ahead at maximum speed. A wall planet flashed with sparks above them but Morgan was far too focused to notice. Hidden in his expression was something beyond the obvious.

His eyebrows had dropped downwards and his limbs were slightly tense. The grin was grit and tight, skin sharply silvered each time a shot firmly struck. Goldens glared forward at all times. But when a shot struck the rear every muscle fought to look behind him toward the rear hallway.

Ord Radama approached ever closer even as alarms rang through the cockpit. Morgan was an excellent pilot, without a doubt, but he couldn't work true miracles. Whoever had been waiting for them had come over prepared.

@Altaris

 

[Jaikus Thorne]

The Sith Lord whipped the ship into rapid, defensive maneuvers, and Jaikus could do nothing but grip into the armrests of his seat – fingernails digging bitterly into leather as the yacht spiraled abruptly. He barely noticed the sound of vases and wine glasses shattering in the lounge, his attention instead focused solely upon the situation in front of him.

While Jaikus was no expert pilot, he immediately understood the gravity of the situation. There had taken a yacht with minimal firepower for this expedition, and there were a trio of rogue starfighters on their flank.

Morgan might’ve been grinning, but Jaikus’ expression was comparatively sour. His lips hardened into a firm line and his jaw clenched, citrine eyes narrowed into slits. There was no thrill or promise of a challenge for the Axxilan, but simply an immediate danger that he had no control over. Such loss of control was not something that Jaikus ever handled well. He glared out of the cockpit window and towards the planet in the distance, very quickly coming to the realizing that this wasn’t Serenno.

This was disturbing for a multitude of reasons, and two possibilities stuck out in Jaikus’ mind. Either the cultists on Serenno had spread to this planet as well, or the Sith Lord had more enemies that originally anticipated.

Morgan cut the ships power and wheeled it around, giving the pair the first real look at the vessels that assailed them. The trio of starfighters were undoubtedly of Ord Radaman made and model – the side of their hull bearing the symbol of the planetary defense force. Jaikus narrowed his eyes a bit when he saw. One of the trio moved a bit slower than the others, giving Morgan an opportunity to unleash upon the starfighter. Crimson plasma cut through the straggler, punching through shields and reducing the enemy ship to a drifting cluster of debris. The sight was enough to bring a faint smile to Jaikus’ lips.

It was, at the very least, one less problem to worry about.

Morgan spoke, causing Jaikus’ gaze to flick over in his direction. “Do I have a choice?” Jaikus quipped back. The momentary smile had faded, his voice coming across as just the slightest bit annoyed when he spoke. Considering their current situation, it really wasn’t hard to imagine why.

For all the expert manuevers that Morgan employed, it was not enough to shake the two remaining starfighters that trailing them. Another blast struck into the yacht from behind, a new set of alarms and warning lights began blaring through the cockpit. The repeated strikes to the ships rear was doing a number on their shields, and served as a chilling warning to the pair. They would either need to land rapidly, or finish off the two remaining starfighters. And Morgan would need to do it quicky.

Traveling at full speed, Voyager began to punch down into the lower atmosphere of Ord Radama, the landmass below approaching quickly. Much of the planet was covered in dense wetlands and swamps, but there was a distinct clearing amongst the humid vegetation.

It wouldn't be an easy landing.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

"Technically," Morgan replied smoothly, grin widening slightly. "Don't mind living up to your name, Wallflower?" The icy calm of a professional combat pilot was steadily sinking in, but even still there was that hint of anxiety and excitement. This wasn't a starfighter, it was much more important.

The vessel shook from further shots, further bleeding through and setting off alarms and warning. Morgan habitually wanted to reinforce the rear but they'd need the fore shields to get through the atmosphere. Voyager couldn't outmaneuver the two fighters. So it dove toward the planet, flames stopping on the shield as it plummeted. Here the yacht had an advantage in the maneuvering wing. Evasive maneuvers wild enough even to make Morgan feel a little sick were twisted through. Streaking down toward the ground he spotted the open area and angled his ship even under fire, a few more shots hitting home.

One took out the wing-thruster, the Firrerreon baring his fangs in a snarl. The craft dipped toward the ground an Morgan struggled with the controls to keep the tip up enough for "emergency landing." Without warning the two fighters broke off as Voyager as about to hit the ground. Perhaps being a little optimistic, Morgan lowered the landing gear.

Then it hit, much harder than it really should, inertial dampeners and repulsorlifts working well past regulation to compensate as much as they could. A sapling snapped on contact with the ship, hull plating groaning in protest, landing gear dragging along the wet ground. At last it slid to sudden stop when the ship's bottom struck stone with a thunderous clang.

Half landing, half crash. Could be worse, right?

Morgan was only not face-first in his controls because of the crash webbing. On the other hand, crash webbing hurt. He let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan. Immediately he looked behind himself toward the rear hallway- and shot from his seat toward where a fire was starting in the engine room.

@Altaris

 

[Jaikus Thorne]

A bit of annoyance played behind Jaikus’s eyes as he stared at Morgan, noting the way that Firrerreo’s grin widened. The Axxilan did not return the expression, his lips still hardened into a tight line – fingernails digging into the armrests and threatening to leave gouges in the leather. “Not quite what I had in mind.” He replied, speaking through gritted teeth.

While he was no stranger to operating in life-threatening situations – even managing to keep a level-head most of the time - their current predicament left Jaikus filled with a bit more anxiety than usual, seemingly rendering him incapable of his usual witty remarks. While the Stinger Yacht was impressive to behold, it was not a vessel made for combat. There were no guns for him to man, nor any defensive maneuvers he could employ. Jaikus was powerless to do much of anything at all, life or death entirely determined by the piloting capabilities of a man that he, quite frankly, barely knew.

It was that distinct lack of control – one that was bitterly familiar - that seemed to fill Jaikus with dread above all else. It was a sensation that settled deep into his stomach, violently twisting knots and leaving him feeling sick to his core.

Jaikus resisted the urge to retch as the vessel twisted in wild maneuvers, streaking through the lower atmosphere of the planet and plummeting towards the ground. Each blow from the enemy fighters caused him to wince a bit, the repeated fire setting off a new alarms throughout the ship that only added to the high-pitched choir.

Citrine’s focused harshly upon the ship’s sensors, watching as the opposing fighters suddenly broke off from their rear.Voyager made hard impact with the surface shortly thereafter. The air was suddenly filled sounds of the landing gear dragging across the ground, up until the moment the ship’s hull struck stone. When the vessel finally came to an abrupt stop, Jaikus felt his body lurch forward.

Crash webbing prevented the Axxilan from being reduced to a splatter on the dashboard, but that didn’t mean it was painless. A loud groan escaped from Jaikus’ lips, gritting his teeth as he felt dull pain shooting across hid body. After a few seconds, Jaikus finally started to peel the crash webbing away from his body, just catching a glimpse of Morgan making a dash towards the engine room.

Citrine eyes narrowed into slits, and for a moment, the Axxilan genuinely considered remaining in his seat. A few seconds of consideration would pass before Jaikus begrudgingly removed his seatbelt, staggering on his feet for a moment before making his way out of the cockpit. He could see at thick black smoke began to billow from the engine room, subconsciously plucking a fire extinguisher from the wall as he went.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan hadn't precisely how on-edge Jaikus was with the entire situation. When in danger he saank into what he knew best, action followed by action, thought abandoned in favour of instinct. In times like these, the Firrerreo owned exactly he was. In the face of fear he fought for every shred of life he had with a grin on his face. In the face of death the wild he tiger was clawed to the surface to defy it.

The Axxilan man was the first notable being to see such an expression oft concealed behind a black and red helmet. When it came to fight or flight Firrerreons inherently leaned toward fighting until the bitter end.

Free from crash webbing he flew down past the lounge and galley, snatching one of several extinguishers from an opened compartment along the way. He wasn't grinning any longer, a frantic urgency in every movement. His head flicked to the captain's quarters then back to the engine room, black boots skidding across metal flooring with an almost comical squeak. Whatever was in there must've been worth fighting for since he didn't hesitate for a single second to rush through clouds of black smoke, breath held against the bruises on his chest.

Foam sprayed from the small device across the flames, doubtless joined by Jaikus' efforts in order to avoid being engulfed in flames. Luckily the fire was caused by a fuel leak instead of something catastrophic like a full breach. Even so, as the smoke eventually cleared, it was abundantly obvious the engine was in no condition for Voyager to fly. Not to mention the hull breaches that, while non-fatal at the time, prevented the ship from sealing against the uncaring vacuum of space.

Morgan haphazardly tossed his extinguisher aside to clatter across the floor, stared into his bedroom, breathed a sigh of relief, and then turned to find Jaikus. Golden eyes blinked, slit pupils steadily slipping toward black circles.

"Sorry, Jaikus. More of a trap than expected." Visibly Morgan's skin shifted from deeper silver toward usual subtle shades, though not all the way. Golden eyes flicked down across the other man's torso and then back to his face. He didn't need to ask if Jaikus was injured. They'd just been in an almost-crash, the Firrerreo's body ached, and the Axxilan held himself like his did too.

From a wall mount a medkit was grumpily yanked before he dragged open a side door that refused to open all the way on its own, letting the residual smoke ventilate as he walked down the ramp toward the wetland clearing. Morgan coughed several times and sat down on the scuffed-up ramp, all traces of excitement gone from his features.

"Here," he said, offering one of the three medkit bacta-stims. It would at least make the Marauder's bruises and the like hurt less and heal faster. "Not what I had in mind either." Slender fingers thoughtfully tip-tapped against Morgan's thigh for a moment, a deep frown on his face.

"They're not coming back." In fact, the enemy fighters were nowhere in sight. Goldens looked out over the landscape, trying to see if there was anything distinguishable to form a plan around. "You alright? Anything broken?"

@Altaris

 

[Jaikus Thorne]

For a few moments, Jaikus seriously considered letting Morgan battle the growing flames on his own. His body ached all over, and the Axxilan had no doubt that the Firrerreo would’ve eventually been able to put out the engine fire on his own. Nevertheless, Jaikus groaned and begrudgingly peeled himself out of the co-pilot’s seat, making a dash for the engine room.

Trailing a good bit of distance behind Morgan, the Axxilan was entirely unaware of the slick floor. He slid into the engine room with the same high-pitch squeak, his boots slipping out from under him and sending the man tumbling forward. Luckily, Jaikus managed to brace himself against a wall before his forehead made contact with the engine room floor.

Like Morgan, Jaikus immediately went to work dousing the flames with the extinguisher – thick white foam spraying out and coating whatever within the room was flammable. Thank to their joined efforts, it didn’t take them long to put out the flames – giving them both a clear view of the damage to the ship. While the Axxilan was far from a mechanic, even he could tell that they had sustained heavy damage.

The sight of it caused Jaikus’ jaw to clench firmly once more, exhaling sharply through his nostrils. The ship was in no condition to fly, and from what he briefly saw of the landscape before crashing, there wasn’t anyone close-by to change that fact.

Unlike Morgan, Jaikus didn’t toss his fire extinguisher – choosing instead to place it neatly onto the floor at his feet. When the Firrerreo abruptly spoke and apologized, the Axxilan blinked a few times in response – noting the subtle shift in the man’s skin color.

“It’s fine,” He replied, exhaling softly. From the way he held himself and moved, it was clear that Jaikus was in a great deal of pain – and we would undoubtedly feel it for far longer than the Firrerreo. Still, the danger had passed by this point and the Axxilan saw no reason to linger bitterly on the issue.

He followed Morgan as he passed through the side door, stepping out into the wetland clearing, Jaikus immediately scanned the horizon around them. It was one of the few places that wasn’t covered in dense vegetation and shallow, swampy water. There was nothing for miles all around them, and it was clear that the two of them would have quite a bit of walking through unforgiving terrain ahead of them.

The Axxilan plopped down beside Morgan, leaning back against the ramp. “Thank you,” He said genuinely, nodding as he took bacta-stim. He didn’t hesitate to press the stim to his thigh, wincing a bit as he injected himself.

“Either they think we’re dead, or they just wanted to ground us here.” Jaikus spoke after a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. Both possibilities were likely, though the latter carried with it implications that made the Axxilan a bit more uncomfortable. Jaikus rolled his shoulder a bit, shaking his head when Morgan spoke. “I’ll be alright. Nothing broken that I’m aware of.”

“Tell me more about this group.” He said abruptly.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Keen eyes glanced sometimes toward Jaikus, noting every minute movement of the man's muscles. A lesson Morgan learned when he was younger was that Firrerreons were more durable than the far more common humans out in the galaxy. He had to be careful with his strength outside heavier gravity, delicate with anything fragile or even other people if he didn't intend to hurt them.

The more he watched the Axxilan, the more each hurt was made clear. Thus the offered stim. Firrerreons, as a cultural norm, rarely bothered treating pain unless it was extreme since they recovered relatively quickly from injury. He'd simply endure it until it passed. Jaikus would be dealing with his injuries for a while.

His easy forgiveness and thanks bothered Morgan, brows furrowing a moment, but he said nothing. Instead he focused on the situation at hand, a grimace forming over fine features. "Think they want us here. No guarantee we'd die in a crash if they know what we are." And it wasn't even a crash, technically, so much as a really terrible landing. He glanced at Jaikus again when he said nothing was broken as if to confirm it for himself, then back out toward the wetlands.

"They're a cult." And that's all he said. Several seconds passed before he softly sighed. "One that wants all life in the galaxy to serve their greater. Infiltrate and insinuate themselves into low society to influence those above." A pause. "They're not fond of me." Obviously. Morgan was openly hostile toward most cults.

"Must have someone important here as a contact," he grumbled irritably. After another moment he stood, stretching stiffly to double-check how injured he was after their 'landing'. Another sigh. "We're going to have to walk. Going to change." Morgan stepped back inside the ship toward his bedroom. He wasn't mucking through a swamp in anything even resembling robes.

The fanciful Firrerreon liked his aesthetic dress, but not enough to be that impractical.

@Altaris

 

[Jaikus Thorne]

Jaikus kept his citrine gaze fixated out over the horizon, flicking between the dense vegetation that they would inevitably have to trudge through. From the way he carried himself, to the way he winced when he sat down, it was clear the man was in pain – even if he wasn’t going to vocalize and complain about it.

Thus, the bacta-stim was greatly appreciated, immediately working to dull the aches and pains across his body. The Axxilan would be sore nevertheless, but at least he’d be moving at a reasonable pace.

He leaned back further in the ramp, stretching out one leg while bringing the other, knee up to his chest. The Axxilan completely missed the furrowed brow from Morgan, and likely would’ve have understood the reason behind it anyway. It was not in the Axxilan’s nature to hold a grudge, and was hardly the Firrerreo’s fault. Morgan was clearly just as surprised as Jaikus with the situation they found themselves in now.

The Axxilan listened silently when Morgan spoke, humming softly as he considered the possibility that “Maybe.” Part of him already suspected as much, and hearing the same hypothesis from Morgan served as confirmation. Why the cultist wanted them here remained a mystery.

“Those were planetary defense forces.” He muttered, a fact that Morgan was likely fully aware of. “It seems this cult is rather widespread.” It was a revelation that clearly didn’t sit well with Jaikus. If their numbers were such to fully integrate into a planetary government and infiltrate its militia, it did not bode well for the path ahead of them.

Citrine eyes finally flicked back to Morgan when the man answered his question. While his expression didn’t change drastically, the Axxilan’s eyes nevertheless narrowed ever-so-slightly. “I believe we’ve established that already.” He quipped. Internally, the Axxilan felt a pang of annoyance spiking within him.

Normally, the half-answers and cryptic manner of speaking wouldn’t have phased him, but the recent almost-crash had done a number on his patience. He wanted details. By this point, though, he figured that prying for information wasn’t going to be productive.

He listened as the Firrerreo continued, turning to look back at the swampy landscape. After a while, he shrugged his shoulders a bit when Morgan mentioned that the cult wasn’t fond of him. “I can see that.” He said softly, exhaling through his nostrils.

“Probably a good idea.” He muttered, briefly glancing back to Morgan and his state of attire. The Axxilan lingered on the ramp for a few moments more before rising back to his feet, striding back inside the ship to change.

A few minutes would pass, and Jaikus finally made his way back outside – boots sinking a bit into the damp earth. Instead of the stylish clothes he’d been wearing before, the Axxilan opted to don his usual armor – a dark ensemble of armorweave that fit tightly to his figure, designed for speed as opposed to brute strength. He omitted the usual mask that accompanied the armor for the time being, and his lightsaber remained safely tucked away on his person, but out of sight.

Jaikus folded his arms behind his back neatly, leaning his weight against the ship until Morgan reappeared.

@Mr. Teatime