Chapter 11

Lights swam by his bleary eyes. Ketch blinked struggling up from the darkness that had swallowed him. His eyes focused on the lights that where whisk by his face, plasma lanterns he realized bemused at the sluggishness of his thoughts. A reddish display flicked into being in the upper right-hand corner of his vision.

“011.23.50.50G”

“011.23.50.49G”

“011.23.50.48G” the display continued to count down by 1-second increments. It stayed fixed at the very corner of his vision no matter where he moved his eyes. After several more seconds, it occurred to him to turn his head and look around.

He was laying flat on his back beside Joran as she hurried along a stark utility corridor. Her hand was stretched towards him fingers spread and tensed. He studied her perfectly trimmed finger nails, he marveled at her unblemished skin. So odd for a Zabraak not to have a single tattoo he thought. Slowly his head cleared further, he shook his head glancing around again he realized he was floating down the corridor unsupported by any means he could see. Joran glanced down at him as he stirred, her mouth moved and he realized he couldn’t hear anything but a high pitched buzzing. As he struggled to focus, memories flooded back in, the horror of what he now knew swamped him. The edges of his vision crumbled back into darkness leaving the red countdown timer as the only thing he could see.

“011.23.48.30G”

Next time his eyes could focus Joran was gently lowering him to the cold metal floor of the small hangar they had rented for the day.

“Ketch! KETCH you’ve gotta wake up we tripped some kind of alarm or something in the lab. Security is searching for us. We need to get off the moon do you understand me?” she asked a slight edge of desperation creeping into her voice. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him roughly. Ketch nodded with a groan he tried to sit up slowly, he had to stop once. He grabbed his knees and held onto them trying to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and the timer glowed against his eyelids brightly,

“011.22.44.59G”

“How long was I out?” He asked surprised at how raspy his voice sounded “And why does my throat hurt?”

“You don’t remember? You started screaming once you hit the floor, I had to knock you out so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.” Joran said carefully,

“You’ve been out for little over an hour since the last time you woke up.” She watched him for any sign of returning distress. Ketch’s mind raced and tried to flood him with pain again, he walled off the part of his mind that was trying to override the rest. He locked it away until he could deal with it. His face went blank as he controlled his emotions, his mind cleared but his emotions felt distant. As he studied the Airspeeder another number flickered into being below the first, it was bright green, a set of navigational coordinates it looked like.

“Come on, let’s find a ride out of here before we are forced to stay a LOT longer then we want to,” Ketch said calmly, Joran nodded and started to put their few supplies back into the Airspeeder. K2Tec zipped out of the open canopy and flitted around Ketch lights flashing brightly in concern

“Sir, my scans indicate that you have recently experienced a sever shock to your system. Did you need to talk about something? I can link with the AI that runs the base she has a full medical protocol.” K2Tec said, his synthesized voice concerned.

“No,” Ketch said brushing the hovering droid away like a pesky insect. Joran glanced at his uncharacteristically abrupt treatment of the droid.

“Follow me,” Ketch said and started off.

“Wait! We need to leave, where are you going?” Joran demanded jogging to catch up to him.

“To get us a new ride, that one’s not going to get us to where we need to go,” Ketch said absently, he studied the hanger numbers quickly as he hurried down the corridor.

“Where is that exactly?” Joran asked cautiously.

“The Outer Rim if my math’s right, and we have a dead line.” He said matter-of-factly ignoring Joran’s odd look he kept moving quickly away trusting her to keep up.

“What kind of deadline? How much time do we have? Joran asked cautiously so as not to upset him. Ketch closed one eye and squinted.

“011.22.31.48G” the display read.

“11 days, 22 hours, 31 minutes, and 44 seconds galactic standard time I assume it’s not local time anyway,” Ketch said absently still focused on the hanger numbers, the bays were getting progressively bigger as the continued down the corridor. Joran’s sense of concern grew at his exact number. Before she could question him further, he stopped at a medium sized hanger. He froze, literally.

A stillness like no she had seen before, short of a meditation trance came over him he didn’t even seem to breathe for a few seconds.

“This is the one.” He said returning to normal.

“What was that?” Joran demanded, “And what the hell do you mean this is the one? We’ve never even been down this way!” Joran hissed shaken at the lack of emotion in his voice and his strange behavior. Ketch didn’t answer his hands flew over the keypad that opened the hanger air lock for several seconds. Numbers flashed by on the screen too fast for her to follow till the door chimed and slid open smoothly.

“…How?” She stopped herself, “Never mind… what now?” Joran demanded.

“We wait.” Ketch led the way into the hanger and after glancing around they hid behind a large stack of equipment near one corner. Joran stifled her questions and sat down next to him, she smiled ruefully and snorted out a disgusted laugh. Ketch looked over at her blankly.

“Here I thought I was supposed to be the mysterious one,” Joran said, Ketch studied her for a few seconds not saying anything. When she didn’t say anything else he turned away and stared out the deflector shield that offered them a clear view of the starscape obscured only by the occasional shuttle or starship.

This had better not be a long wait. Joran thought concerned about Ketch’s odd behavior.

Bruakal glanced nervously at D’Ryn as they followed the Bothan who hadn’t given his name, but he was the first one willing to trade for their ship that D’Ryn hadn’t attacked as soon as he walked into the room. He stopped at the intersection of the corridor they had been walking in and motioned for them to wait. He spoke quietly into his comm. unit. He must have got the answer he was looking for because he looked back at them and motioned for them to follow again. A few hanger doors later he stopped in front of a medium sized bay and punched in the code for the door.

Bruakal led the way into the empty hanger bay. He glanced around, and a quite snarl escaped out of his pursed lips. The Bothan looked nervous and glanced at his translator to check if it was working correctly.

“What is wrong?” The Bothan asked his synthetic voice steady despite his nervous glances. Bruekal growled and talked to D’Ryn gesturing angrily at the empty hanger.

“He says, where is the ship?” D’Ryn translated into common.

“It’s coming, where is yours?” The Bothan asked. Bruekal pulled a sleek control device from his pocket and pushed a few buttons, the Hutt’s gleaming shuttle slid smoothly into the hanger and parked in the far corner by a large pallet of supplies that was stacked there. The Bothan made an appreciative noise at the polished hull. He ran one hand expertly along the seam for the door and flicked a hidden switch, a panel popped open revealing a small diagnostic screen and key pad. He went to work expertly on the ship checking the integrated systems and easily bypassing the system security that popped up trying to limit his access.

Bruekal recognized the work of an expert in his craft and wondered again at what the Bothan’s possible background was. After a few minutes, the Bothan closed the panel and turned back to them looking pleased.

“This will work perfectly for our needs. I’ll give you 534,000 credits for it.” The Bothan said calmly. Bruekal’s heart missed a beat at the offer, it was more money than his entire village made in a year. He was deeply tempted to cash in on this windfall and leave the Jedi and all the trouble hanging over him. He looked over at D’Ryn who was standing calmly looking out the clear deflector shield that kept the vacuum of space out. He seemed to be searching for something among the stars. With a sigh he curtly gestured the offer aside, the Bothan looked shocked at his refusal. Bruekal spoke quickly to D’Ryn for a minute, D’Ryn listened without looking away from the stars. After Bruekal stopped he spoke calmly to the Bothan without glancing at him.

“He said, the ship is worth at least 2 mil even used. Which doesn’t matter since we agreed to a trade not selling it.” D’Ryn finished.

“Well considering who the previous owner was, and the cost of changing all the registration beacons and codes 534 is more than a fair price. Of course your right though.” He added quickly when Bruekal took a threatening step toward him. “We did agree to a trade.” The Bothan looked nervously between Bruekal and D’Ryn then spoke quickly into his comm. unit to quietly for them to hear what he said.

A few minutes went by then another ship flew into the hanger with considerably less grace than their stolen craft. Bruekal growled in appreciation, he liked the aggressive looking design of the ship with its to forward swept mandibles with mounted auto laser torrents. The whole craft was vaguely designed around a boxy crescent with just enough space between the points to allow a clear view forward from the cockpit.

“Uh, this is our humble trade offer. VCX-820 manufactured by Corellian Engineering. In this configuration it has all of the weapon packages, has working Hyperdrive with a 2.0 rating. Fastest Hyperdrive system on the civilian market. Has a backup Hyperdrive rated at 12 just in case any…meteors take out the primary drive or an…accident happens.” The Bothan started, obviously knowing his craft well. Bruakal calculated the ships price at around 1 million credits new, maybe 650,000 now that it was used. Their ship was easily worth twice that new but used and stolen lowered that to maybe 500,000 on the black market, more probable they might get 200,000 with no questions asked.

“Has 1-ton cargo capacity, crew quarters for 8 and three passengers. Has 3 twin heavy laser cannon turrets, 8 auto blasters, and 1 proton torpedo launcher. The shield generators are Military-grade, um…” he trailed off as Bruekal walked away to check the freighter from all angles. The Bothan followed after him now, wringing his hands anxiously as the deal seemed to be slipping from his hands.

“can sustain the crew and passengers for 6 months without resupply. Has a Max speed of 950 km/h in atmosphere… Uh, I have to mention it is a fixer-upper.” Bruekal stopped in his tracks and glared down at the diminutive Bothan. At 2.5 meters Bruekal towered over the meter and a half Bothan, he flexed his hands sullenly and crossed his arms silently waiting. The Bothan gulped audibly before continuing.

“we are willing to trade this ship as an equal to your own, we’ll even change the codes and security over to your own signature for free, and um scramble the ID beacon too.” He trailed off and glanced back at D’Ryn who hadn’t moved yet. Bruekal took a deep breath and rumbled out a word in basic.

“Why?” He said using one of the few words he could make heard in most beings range of hearing.

“This is a prototype model. The weapons targeting systems haven’t been added in yet and the navigation system needs work. But it’s in your price range.” A small noise made Bruekal’s head whip around and he stared at the pile of equipment on the pallet but didn’t hear anything else.

“All of the components you would need are right on that pallet all they need is for someone to put the time into installing them. I’ll even throw them in as part of the deal.” He said staring to look of desperate. All kinds of alarm bells were going off in Bruekal’s head, but with this ship, he could finally finish his mission that had gone so disastrously wrong when he first left his village.

His father had sent him out among the aliens to acquire a freighter so they could set their own prices for the few goods they had to export off world. He had been entrusted with the entire savings of the clan to purchase a ship. Now after nearly 5 years after he had left he had his first real chance at completing his task.

Bruekal let the Bothan stew for a few more seconds as he babbled on trying to sell the secondhand ship to what he assumed must be a complete idiot. Bruekal held up a hand to silence him. After the Bothan stopped talking Bruekal opened a control panel on the outside of the hull and pointed at it. The Bothan nodded and brought up the codes for the ship. Bruekal nodded and stuck out his hand, the Bothan took it apprehensively. Bruekal roared over to D’Ryn the Bothan squealed and tried to pull away.

“He said it’s a deal.” D’Ryn yelled back to them. Bruekal let the Bothan go and quickly typed in a set of private codes to the ship and changed the owner ID to his own. The ID codes the ships broadcast to any station they approached for supplies had to be as inconspicuous as possible so as too not excite suspicion. The Bothan bowed gracefully and went over to do the same to the Hutt’s ship. Bruekal stroked a finger down the side of their new ship lovingly. His smile was feral as he contemplated the modifications he was going to make. Bruekal opened the Starship’s cargo doors, and gently guided D’Ryn into the kitchen area. D’Ryn sat at the table and emptied his mind of all thoughts and distractions. Gradually his awareness shrunk back into him, closing him off from the emotions of everyone around him. Bruekal was humming and grabbed a repulsor lift to carry on the parts that where piled in the hanger. The Bothan had finished changing the codes on his new ship, and he climbed in quickly and flew out without acknowledging them. Bruekal shrugged fitting the grav grapples onto the pallet of parts he activated the repulsor lift and the whole pallet floated free of the deck.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Ketch calmly walked out from behind the pallet they had been hiding behind as it lifted off the ground. The sight that greeted him was enough to make shock leak through the barrier he had built around his emotions. The wookie was wearing clothes, which was odd enough, but under the clothes, all of his fur was missing, except for tuffs on his hand's feat and face. Joran froze next to him her mouth hanging slightly open as she starred at the Wookie.

“My God, what happened to you?” Joran exclaimed in Shyrwook, the language of the Wookies. Bruekal stopped what he was doing at the appearance of the strange aliens from behind the parts. He had started to reach for his blaster but when the Zabraak spoke his language obviously upset at his appearance, the shock made him hesitate. Bruekal’s mind raced at what their sudden appearance might mean.

“Your pronunciation is awful,” Bruekal said after composing his thoughts.

“I know,” Joran said smiling despite her nerves at Ketch’s random actions.

“011.07.44.30G” the timer glowed in the corner of Ketch’s eye.

“We need a ride,” Ketch said to the wookie blandly. Bruekal growled, sick of the poor manners of the aliens he had to deal with. He crossed his massive arms, glaring down at the green-skinned Twi’lek. Silently he studied the pair of them, the women a Zabraak, her pale pinkish skin and gleaming ivory head spikes where fetching for her species he supposed. But her gleaming bald head and utter lack of body hair ran against his definition of beauty, Give him a 2-meter female with long silken hair over a bald, hairless as a newborn, petite female any day. She was dressed in robes similar to D’Ryn’s, so she must be a Jedi. He thought quickly.

The Twi’lek male was young perhaps 21, his military hair cut and neatly pressed clothes marked him as some kind of officer. His leather flight jacket had insignia of a captain in the space navy. He had to be a cadet, the rank was far too high for someone so young. But it could be his ranking among the students. Bruekal could see at least 4 blasters concealed on his body and two knives, what an officer would need with so much fire power he couldn’t guess. His emerald green skin and darker green stripes made him look as intimidating as could be expected of one of the smaller races. He was just less than two meters tall Bruekal estimated quickly and lean with muscle, not bulky, a fencer’s build. If he had to guess, he would think that he was rather good with the weapons he was packing. A cadet out for a joy ride, still in school and no doubt in some kind of trouble. Bruekal decided.

“Why where you hiding there?” Bruekal demanded at the women. Ketch started to answer but she cut him off.

“Please excuse my companion here. I’m Jedi Knight Joran Katha. He’s Ketch, we need transport to these coordinates.” She held up a holo projector that she had input the coordinates Ketch had given her into. It displayed the coordinates above her palm for the Wookie to see.

Bruekal studied the coordinates intently, looked like the Klyndatho system. About as deep in the Outer Rim as you could get before you hit dead space. Bruekal shuddered, the space between galaxies was terrifying in its infinite beauty. Vast emptiness that stretched further than most could imagine, some lost their grip on reality starring at the deep for too long.

“Why should I give you a ride? I don’t think you could afford me, besides; I’m not taking on any passengers.” Bruekal said dismissively, he turned to get into his ship. The last thing he needed was more infants to baby sit. His mind wandered as he thought about how he was going to get enough of a crew together to man the ship properly, and what it would cost him to get the parts installed.

“Wait,” Ketch said after listening to Joran’s translation of what the wookie had said. I can help you, you need a crew. I’ll sign on as your engineer.” Ketch said. Bruekal looked at him skeptically.

“I have 5 years of schooling as a Starship engineer at the academy. My grandfather worked for a starship company. I helped him out in the shipyards my whole childhood.” Ketch said. He had started to sweat. The effort of restraining his emotions was starting to wear on his strength.

“011.07.29.50G” the timer read. He rubbed his right eye hard trying to banish the image. It just glowed brighter when he closed his eye. Bruekal thought about it quickly calculating how much it would save him to have them along if he could actually install the components. They would still need a navigator and additional crew to man all the gun ports.

“What about you? What can you offer the ship?” Bruekal asked Joran gruffly.

“I am proficient with most basic Starships systems and a fast learner,” Joran said baring her teeth in a mildly challenging grin at the Wookie. Bruekal barked out a harsh laugh at her attitude. Damn them! He liked them both, this was probably going to come back to haunt him, but he heaved a heavy sigh.

“I would agree to take you on as crew in trade for your trip, but I don’t have the fuel for it if we aren’t carrying any cargo to pay for the return trip. We have just enough fuel to get me back to my home system. Truly, I am sorry.” He told Joran sincerely.

“We have a Starfighter we would offer as collateral,” Joran said quickly. “Put it in the cargo hold, if we don’t perform to your standards, or if you can’t find something to salvage where we are going. Keep it and sell it for fuel.” Joran told Ketch what she had offered. He blanched at the thought of losing the Airspeeder he had just finished building but nodded at her quick thinking. K2tec flitted out to hover in front of Joran. K2tec bowed gracefully with his tiny robotic hands together and addressed the surprised Wookie captain.

“Sir, I am K2tec, I would also offer my cervices. I am primarily an Astro tech droid, with navigation being my specialty. I see that you have yet to install the navigation circuits as they are on that pallet full of parts. I will substitute as the ships Navi computer until the parts can be installed by my master.” K2tec said respectfully addressing the Wookie. Bruekal glanced sharply at the pallet of parts and saw the circuitry the droid had mentioned, he snarled out a curse. He continued to curse angrily at himself as he contemplated the treacherous Bothan. The ship was practically useless without those systems installed. Weapons systems where fine, he didn’t plan on running into any trouble. But without the Navi, he was flying blind.

“Got taken pretty good didn’t you big fella,” Ketch said Bruekal snarled out a curse to all aliens. He tossed an empty crate across the hanger so it banged into the blast doors leading into the corridor. An angry growl worked its way out of him as he worked off his rage on the few empty crates in the hanger. He finished crushing the empty metal trash bin into a ball and trilled out a victory cry. Dismissively he kicked the ball into one of the corners near the door.

“Fine. Get your fighter and load it in the cargo hold, you stay in the crew quarters. No sense messing up the passenger quarters if we don’t have paying passengers. I’m Bruekal, you can call me Captain.” He said glaring at Ketch. “Either is fine from you.” He said less gruffly to Joran. “Now get a move on, we leave in 2 hours I’m going to see if I can find a few more crew willing to sign on for free passage and a cut of potential profits.” Bruekal said sighing. He waited until Joran translated for Ketch and the droid. The three of them bowed respectfully and headed out the blast doors to get their ship. Bruekal watched them go his mind racing with worries and potential problems.

Bruekal checked in on D’Ryn, but he was still in the exact same spot staring off into space.

“Change,” Bruekal said in standard, handing the placid Jedi a set of coveralls from the crew supplies. D’Ryn changed without argument and stuffed his soiled robes into the locker in his quarters. Bruekal watched the Jedi for signs of trouble but he seemed calm enough to stay out of trouble. So he put an add out on the Hypernet for crew members willing to leave in an hour to meet him at the hanger for interviews and selection. That done he settled back into the captain’s chair on the bridge with a grateful sigh. He set the computer to run a diagnostics sweep to make an exact list of what parts were still needed to install. While that ran, he finished loading on the pallet of parts.

Ketch and Joran hurried back to their hanger bay, Joran’s mind raced at what Ketch had done. The force was practically leading him around by the nose. She had never seen such blatant manipulations by it before. She was startled to realize she was frightened of the implications of what was happening around Ketch. She felt an almost frantic need to call her Master but knew the risk was too great.

K2tec zipped past them scouting out the path ahead for security at Ketch’s orders. Joran cursed herself for forgetting that they where wanted criminals on the moon now as well as the planet below. Luckily they made it back without being spotted, Ketch leaped into the cockpit as soon as they entered the hanger, Joran froze, Ketch had just force leaped 10 meters across the hanger bay without even seaming to notice.

“This is getting out of control!” Joran thought it had taken her a month to learn how to harness the force well enough to perform such a maneuver. Wordlessly she ran to catch up and climbed aboard just as Ketch closed the canopy. Expertly he flew the craft out of the hanger and around the station, traffic had picked up and he wove in and out of the incoming shuttles and Starcraft with alarming ease. A Corsec troop carrier was docking a few hangers down from where they were meeting Bruekal.

“That doesn’t bode well,” Joran said quietly.

“No, really? Ya think so spikes?” Ketch demanded swiftly swinging their Airspeeder into the relative protection of the hanger. Bruekal was standing by the corridor blast door talking to a line of spacers. When he saw them he pointed at the open cargo doors, and Ketch parked the speeder smoothly beside the pallet of parts. As they climbed out Bruekal jogged up the loading ramp leading the strangest assortment of aliens that Joran had ever seen. There was a small pack of rodent-like beings, 6 where adults she assumed, they led a brood of smaller children of the same species. She looked closely at the Small intelligent rodents, each had on some kind of pouch or a tool belt. They where each about half a meter tall and had tiny hands with three fingers and an opposable thumb. Their large round eyes and tiny mouse-like ears made them all look about as unthreatening as anything she had ever seen. From the similarity in their fur color and markings she assumed they were all related somehow.

Last one in was a small furred being that looked like a miniature version of a wookie, it was talking to Bruekal with a translator device that it wore around its neck like a collar. From the deepness of the programmed voice she assumed he was male. He wore a leather cap over his head that let his small round ear poke up through it, and a bright blue jump suite marked him as spacer of some experience. He was about 1 meter tall, his fur was a beautiful brindle color except for a mask of pure black fur that highlighted his eyes. His eyes where the most starling thing about him, she had expected them to be brown like Bruekal’s or the small rodent-like aliens. But they weren’t, one was vivid blue so light it was almost grey. The other was a much darker, she couldn’t tell exactly what color it was but it looked to be hazel or maybe a very deep green. She looked away when she realized she was staring. She glanced back, but neither Bruekal or the small alien had noted her rudeness.

Bruekal closed the cargo ramp and studied his crew of assorted beings. A Twi’lek, a Zabraak, a Dozen (rat aliens name), an Ewok, a Wookie, and one whatever D’Ryn was. A stranger assortment of people he couldn’t recall having ever seen.

Bruekal waved Joran forward so he could have her translate for him. Before she could finish taking her first step a crimson bolt of blaster fire screamed into the cargo hold nearly hitting Ketch who rocked back on his heels. The new crew members scatter into the ship seeking shelter from the hail of blaster fire now pouring through the blast doors leading to the corridor. Bruekal dove for cover towing D’Ryn with him who had come out to study the new crew members. Joran activated her lightsaber bathing the hold in harsh its blue light. She turned the blade and used its wide width to shield herself as she ran towards the attacking Corsec troops. They saw her coming and their rate of fire dropped slightly in shock.

Not pausing to explain herself to them once she reached the blast doors, she slid forward on one knee dragging her other foot to slow her headlong rush. Her lightsaber cut a graceful arc through the control panel for the deflector shield holding in the atmosphere in the hanger bay.

She was instantly jerked backward as if by a huge rubber band as the hanger bays deflector shield flickered and went out. The atmosphere screamed out into the vacuum of space dragging her along with it. The blast doors snapped closed nearly catching the hastily retreating Corsec troopers. Joran pushed off the ceiling with the force, trying to angle her flight towards the rapidly closing cargo ramp of Bruekal’s Starship. She had miscalculated her trajectory slightly since the wind was channeled over the top of the vessel like a stream of water around a boulder. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for the icy embrace of space, content that she had saved her companions at least. A steel vice clamped around her leg jerking her to a bone-wrenching stop mid-air.

Her eyes flew open as she was towed unceremoniously into the cargo hold just before the ramp slammed shut. The blood rushed to her head as she was dangled upside down by her legs. K2tec was busily manipulating the controls for the tractor beam that had snatched her from the jaws of oblivion.

“Wait,” Bruekal growled waving for the K2tec to stop. Bruekal walked over till his face was even with Joran’s upside down one he growled. He quickly spoke low and angrily so that only Joran could hear him.

“What the hell did you think you were doing? We don’t need a sacrifice on this ship. We have the bare minimum of a crew for a safe journey. You might be willing to die to save us but you would have doomed us all anyway if we had been in space….Don’t do it again.” Bruekal finished. He reached over and turned off the tractor beam. Joran managed to flip over and land on her feet, Bruekal didn’t notice, he had already turned around and started walking towards the cockpit.

“Go with him K2, get us out of here before they bypass the safety locks that keep everyone in their hangers,” Ketch ordered K2tec, K2tec bowed and zoomed off after their Captain. He helped Joran from up from her crouch, she was a little unsteady on her feet still. Ketch glanced at the odd man who had been on board when they got back. He was dressed in a poorly fitting orange flight suite. His skin was metallic gold, it even gleamed in the light like real gold. His long hair was snow white and pulled back in a tight pony tail. His eyes were what where setting off alarm bells in his head, the where dead, the color of mercury they reflected everything but seemed to absorb none of the things in front of them. He blank face didn’t help matters any he simply observed everyone with the same disinterested stare.

Ketch guided Joran past, giving him a wide birth. Joran let him take most of her weight. The events that they had gone through in the past few hours weighed on her and she was nearing her limit. Her hands had started shaking. She had been so ready for death, everything seemed too bright now, too loud, too…real, too everything she thought. Ketch slid her into a seat in the galley, and made her a cup of tea quickly. She sipped it and thought it was the most wonderful cup of tea she had ever tasted. Though that might be from her brush with death effecting her perceptions, but she didn’t care. She sighed enjoying her tea. Ketch sat across from her, back rigid eyes locked politely over her right shoulder, focused off in the distance.

“We need to decompress and rest Ketch,” Joran said. She slid out of her seat and led the way to the crew quarters. She took the first door on the left they came to, and Ketch took the room across from hers on the right. She watched him climb wordlessly into his bunk and shut the door. She turned and opened her door, a high pitched squeak of outrage startled her into jumping back. The family of Mouse like aliens had all paused to look at her. They looked to be in the process of building a complicated nest out of supplies that she couldn’t imagine where they had gotten.

“Excuse me I didn’t realize this room was taken.” She bowed politely to them. The largest member of the family bowed back and gently pushed the button to close the door again. Joran chuckled at their formality and took the next room, checking with the force first to ensure it was unoccupied. He studied her new room for the next few months, it was an undecorated cubical of metal with a simple desk welded to the hull and a fold-down bunk that would allow her to sit on and use the desk or sleep on. There was a metal locker by the far corner and a tall metal cabinet next to the door. When she got in, she could nearly touch the walls with her hands if she stretched a bit. It was about 3 meters by 2.5 meters, not luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but it would have to do.

She sank gratefully onto the bed not bothering to undress, she was asleep nearly before her head hit the pillow.