Open Resurrecting a Vagabond

[Hera "The Joyful" Albion]

Spoiler: OOC

This thread is DE and will be DMed by me. The Teljkon vagabond has sat in orbit for hundreds of years and is infested with a dangerous entity. Do keep this in mind if you desire to join. I will participate but my character will be in just as much danger as everyone else. The thread is open to Jedi and affiliated mercenaries.

Theme​

The Teljkon Vagabond sat quietly in orbit inside the asteroid best near Maltha Obex. The ancient, massive hulk appeared as new as the day it was constructed. 'Or grown' Hera Albion thought quietly as she flew her ARC starfighter closer toward the vessel. It did not register her approach, nor did it register on her own sensors as anything more than a strangely shaped rock. In truth, she would not have even known about the vessel were it not for the natives of the planet below.

After helping free them of the bonds of the Pyke Syndicate, the local Qellan told Hera a tale so grand, so fantastic, that the Jedi councilor believed it. It was a tale of a living mothership, a massive body that warmed the core of their world to bring life back from the brink of extinction. It held, within its strangely colored hull, more than just knowledge and hope. It was said that the Teljkon Vagabond held the collective knowledge of the Qellan species. Hera wasn't sure how true all the more religious aspects were, but she could not deny what her eyes saw.

"Follow me on approach, we're going to head for the port side of the vessel. I think I see a docking port over there." Hera spoke over the comms to her companion, Ferrin, from where he sat. This was not something Hera desired to explore alone, but she did not anticipate any real danger inside the vessel. From what she could feel from the Force, the ship was no more than a dead rock. Then again, she could see parts of it moving, almost as if it were alive.

And Hera wondered how accurate her senses really were.

@Altaris

 

[Ferrin Sipal]

In truth, Ferrin wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the current assignment with Hera. After his mission to Eiram, the Pantoran had begun to take on several more high-profile missions with the Order, and it was no mystery that his trials to Knighthood were not too far on the horizon. Even still, there was something about the derelict Mothership - alone and adrift in space - that gave Ferrin the creeps. He wasn’t at all convinced it to be empty, especially after his recent experiences delved into Starlight Beacon.

The Pantoran flew alongside Hera in a starfighter of his own - golden eyes narrowed on the strangely-shaped rock ahead. He didn’t miss parts of the structure moving with a mind of its own, only adding to the general creep factor it had going on.

“Roger that,” Ferrin commed back, eyes narrowed on the structure. He was dressed in his usual tunic and pants - sporting a saberhilt on the side of his belt. “Sure as shit ain’t going in alone.” He said after a moment, guiding his Starfighter down towards the docking port. Curiously, the structure almost seemed to react to their arrival - several systems humming to life. They would clearly see how the station itself seems to almost ‘breathe’, with multiple systems of fleshy material rising and falling.

Ferrin slowly stepped from his starfighter, staring at the scene unamused. “I hate this place already.”

 

[Rain]

Rain's X-Wing dropped out of hyperspace a few lightseconds away from the others, giving her a lovely view of the sperm-ship, prompting her to pull out her datapad as her astromech began guiding the fighter towards the larger ship.

"Aim for the head," she instructed the droid, cringing as she realized what she was saying, "follow the others." As the ship began moving, she slipped a stylus out of the side of her datapad and began doodling, drawing her vision of Hera piloting the ship (@Black Noise) once the mission was done. A little while later, with a satisfied smile on her lips, she put the datapad away as her ship slipped into the hangar. But not before she shot a copy of her masterpiece to Ferrin. (@Altaris)

"The smell," she said out loud in response to Ferrin's comment as she jumped down from her cockpit, "the sounds, the...moistness. How can you hate a place so perfect?"

Smirking, she gave Ferrin a wink before giving Hera a small but respectful bow.

"Master, Padawan Moiraine Bashere reporting for duty."

 

[Oren Zapan]

It had been years since Oren Zapan had actively participated in any sort of mission. The former council and exiled Jedi had taken to his original duties within the Jedi upon his return. The galaxy had come a long way since his own days as a Knight, the people he had come to know had all mostly vanished or perished. It was only now that the Jedi Master understood the true realities of growing old. It was time to allow the new generation to lead as they had been. Much better than I had ever done.

The Jedi master slipped out of lightspeed shortly after the group. His old beaten X-Wing and R2 unit chirped as he looked upon the large ship. He slid his helmet visor up and looked upwards out of his cockpit towards the green R2 unit which spun it's head and beeped in a worrying chirp. "You're right..." Oren's slow words matched his arrival towards the hangar. "It does remind me of that day on Utapau."

The Jedi Master gave his robotic hand one subtle glance before bringing his star fighter down behind the trio. He removed himself from the cockpit and removed his signature brown robes. Beneath was his simple cream tunic and white pants, with those shiny brown leather boots. A traditionalist in almost every since, the aging master made no efforts to hide the fact.

His eyes, Green and White, shifted between the pair of padawans and then to Hera. "Master Albion, Padawans." A smile flashed along the aging Jedi's scarred face.

 

[Hera "The Joyful" Albion]

Hera had a strange look about her as she stepped from her starfighter. Before her, two Padawans and Master Zapan. Nodding a greeting to Master Zapan, she spoke up as the three of them expressed their concerns. "I have been informed by the locals that this place is supposed to be perfectly safe, that said-" Hera paused, eyes scanning up and down a wall in their little hangar that seemed to pulse with life, "Keep your lightsabers ready."

At that, she started toward the first airlock. A pulsing bio-bulkhead with a small control panel clearly made for a non-human hand. Thankfully, Hera had been informed by the local Quellan of the proper procedures for opening and closing doors on this ship. The door hissed open, fleshy tendrils drawing open the bulkhead and steel gears rotating inner doors open. Looking back to her companions, Hera remarked, "This should be easy. We simply need to get to the bridge of this vessel and access its main control." Looking back into the hallway, a mesh of overgrown and wet flesh and metal tubes, Hera grimaced.

"Should be easy."

Hera did not pull a light from her hip, instead, she pulled off her blackened goggles and let her eyes see her surroundings unfiltered. Arkanian eyes were adjusted to see in the infrared spectrum of light, the darkness of this hall did not bother the councilor in the slightest. What did bother Hera was the fact that the walls and bulkheads of this vessel were warm in her eyes. They were most definitively alive. Stepping into the hall, she began making her way toward the elevators with her companions.

Then, as the group walked, a sound could be heard. A low growling, loud but far off, followed by two more howling sounds. The hallway the group walked through was no wider than to allow two people to stand side by side. A fight here would be extremely difficult.

@GABA @TWD26 @Altaris

 

[Oren Zapan]

Easy, nothing was ever easy. In fact most things that seemed simple often proved to be the most difficult, Oren found. Concepts such as letting go, abandoning anger, forgiving oneself were all things that had never come easy to the aged Jedi Master. It had been decades since his failures on Ajan Kloss, the loss of his wife and child, his padawan and yet he had never fully moved on from such things -- he most likely never would. Oren filtered the two padawans between himself and Councilor Albion, allowing him to take the back and prepare for any potential traps that could come from behind.

He removed the lightsaber from his side and brought it into his hand, yet did not ignite the white hot blade. Instead, the former councilor simply walked with slow careful steps, letting himself feel the emotions of his fellow Jedi, of himself, and the ship. His old doubts, trauma, the groans of the ship came rushing into his mind and trailed out as fast as they came. With his flesh hand, Oren, reached out and felt the biomass along his fingers, letting it pulsate and speak to him on a fundamental level. It seemed as if the halls had begun to grow tighter and louder, calling onto them with anticipation.

The Jedi Master was unsure of the ship's intentions, and that was the most dangerous aspect of it all. He took one breath and motioned both Rain and Ferrin to stand side by side as they followed Albion. He himself turned and walked backwards, his hand ready against his blade as he removed his hand from the biomass -- finally understanding what emotions he had begun to feel. Flashes of Coruscant's prison came to his mind, the lightsaber battle and the destruction by the Eternal within the halls, Nashyr's head removed straight from her body. Oren hated hallways, he could finally admit that to himself. With one last deep breath he closed his eyes, easing the memory from his thoughts and began concentrating on feeling the force for anything that crept through the darkness of flesh.

tag: @Black Noise @Altaris @Wit