Mark heard the call to man the laser turret. "Right on it." He strapped himself into the seat and began the power cycle. He stopped short of activating the targeting computer, but that would only require a flip of the switch.

"Reldan, you know that this gun isn't big enough when dealing with the Imperial Navy. Just get us out of here."

"Anything that helps," Neary replies to Reldan and returns the grin as well.

"Yeah, I heard you two... discuss it," she says, the grin turning a bit to one side.  Hopefully they will not have to find out much about anything, except what is for supper when they return to the base.

"I know it's no use against anything bigger than us, but it makes a pretty good mip-swatter." Reldan assures Mark Jacobs, "Here we go... "

Above the atmosphere now, Dancing Bantha accelerates to her full sublight speed.

"Sith spit!  I'm picking up a couple of TIEs coming in fast.  Hold on everybody."  Reldan Jalt throws the ship into a series of tight turns which make things somewhat uncomfortable for the crew and passengers, but don't have the desired effect on the attackers.

"I can't shake them!  It's up to you, Mark!"

"Lovely," Shard groans, her head spinning as the Dancing Bantha lives up to its name - enthusiastic, but not exactly agile.  Jalt puts the ship through its paces, a skilled but ultimately useless endeavor.  TIE fighters are simply too agile to be shaken off by the evasive tactics of a tramp freighter.  Her stomach clenching around the alcohol, Shard has a sudden, bleary epiphany: perhaps it would be best if she swore off the stuff.

Of course, that will last as long as it takes for the nausea to pass, she knows that very well.

Then the order goes out for the shooting to start, and her gut clenches for another reason.  She's helpless, here - unable to keep these kids from getting themselves killed.  Cursing silently, she glances across at Rhijans, then closes her eyes - which doesn't help her nausea at all.

If they aren't reduced to free-floating debris, they might just get shot into a crash-landing in the gravity well, or nabbed and dragged aboard the Star Destroyer.  Either way, it's likely doom, but negotiable doom rather than instantaneous.  If that's the case, they'll need her, not some half-sober, vomiting old woman.  And so Shard bites back bile and struggles to concentrate.

Feel the burn of the alcohol within you.  Taste it on your tongue.  There is a space between cold, hard emptiness and the raging fire.  Find that place.  Focus upon it.

Draw forth the poison from within you, bringing it into your blood, and from there to within your lungs.  Feel it, taste it as you breathe it out.  There will be pain; accept this.  Do not reject the fear, do not dwell upon it - accept it, then move onward.

Emptiness is blind.

Rage is blind.

Between them lies clarity.

Not the words of her teacher, oh no - a mantra of her own, philosophy hammered out over years of disappointment and pain, of staggering back and forth between the two poles.  And as she exhales, the air ripples about her nose and mouth, like the heat haze over a fire.

Or the shimmer above a glass of solvent.

Rhijans noticed Shard's eyes on him for the moment, and he felt as though there were words about to follow...but the woman stayed silent, and closed her eyes.  There were a lot of situations he could think of where he'd prefer not to see what was going on...but this wasn't one of them.  It would only have heightened his frustration at once again being powerless to influence the situation.

He glanced at Shard again, about to comment on things...but something caught his eye.  Just a flicker of motion...a shift in appearance, more than an actual movement...something in the air between them, it looked like.  Or he thought it looked that way.  He blinked a time or two, trying to make sure it wasn't tired eyes, and when he looked again, it was gone.

His face maintained the carefully-schooled neutral expression that he so often wore, but consternation showed in his eyes for just a moment.  Either he was far more tired than he realized, or there was something more to Shard than he figured...even though he'd already figured there was more to Shard than met the eye.

He just wasn't sure which one was the case.  And he was definitely at a loss to figure out how to ask her about it.  Must be some kind of near-human racial trait or something, he told himself.

Mark turned the turret in the direction of the incoming Ties. He knew that they wouldn't last in a long fight. The fighters were closing fast. The Ties were faster than their ship.

Mark would only have one shot before things guy ugly. He fired two shots.

The Dancing Bantha continues its wild gyrations, but now a new factor is added to the ride - a low, rumbling vibration which comes up through the soles of a person's feet and sets their teeth on edge.

Reldan Jalt curses under his breath, and then, louder, "That doesn't seem good!"

In the turret, Mark Jacobs opens fire on the two approaching fighters.  One of them is unscathed, and retaliates, but the second takes a direct hit and spins off, out of control.

Laser fire streaks past the Bantha's hull, as Reldan struggles desperately to stay out of the line of fire.

"Everybody still awake back there?"

Rhijans suppressed a snort, and answered Jalt's call in a dry tone.  "Oh, yeah...we're fantastic.  When does the in-flight entertainment program start?"  He wasn't particularly prone to caustic wit, but he was getting tired of being fired upon in situations where he couldn't do anything about it, and the frustration made itself evident in his tone.

Neary studies the control panel and then reaches out to tap a flashing light, frowning.

She hums and peers at the light as if it may give up its secrets thus.

"Peachy," Shard croaks.  She considers a witticism to add onto Rhijans, but gives up - she can't easily top his, and her growing headache proves a hinderance to both capacity and desire.  The alcohol tastes foul coming out on her breath, far worse than it did going in, leaving a dry throat and a pounding skull in its wake.  Never again, she promises herself, knowint it to be a lie.

Maybe...one of these days...

There are things she can do for the pain, of course, but Shard has her limit...and her pride.  Suck it up - that wouldn't be right.  There was only so much one could rationalize.  She cocks her ear, listening intently.  The Bantha had returned fire, that much was clear from the sound echoing through the ship's hull as the blasters pulsed; whether or not they had hit anything was a different matter.

But that other sound...

"You hear that?" she called out to Rhijans, who looked desperately uncomfortable - frustrated, it seemed to her.  Shard couldn't blame him.  "Please tell me it's nothing serious!"  Hyperdrive malfunction.  Just my luck.

Or maybe the fluidics.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:33, Wed 09 Mar 2011.

Mark didn't acknowledge the other sounds that was coming from the Bantha. He was entirely focused on the remaining Tie fighter. He squeezed off another shot at the elusive target.

"When do we jump to Hyperspace?" Mark shouted over the sounds of turret fire.

The damaged TIE continues to roll and spin for a few seconds longer, before erupting in a ball of flaming wreckage.  The other fighter stays close on the Dancing Bantha, despite Reldan Jalt's best efforts at shaking it off.

"This one knows how to fly!" the pilot comments to Neary, as he desperately throws the ship into a wide, twisting turn.  Then, over his shoulder, "I'll have the jump plotted in a few seconds!  I'm a bit busy just now!"

Laser bolts slam into the Bantha's shields, and the vessel shudders, as Reldan yells, "We just lost one of the sublight engines!"

Mark Jacobs retaliates as the TIE swings past and seems to sit directly in his sights for a moment.  A bolt from the Bantha's cannon hits the fighter, and there is an explosion in the vicinity of one of the fighter's weapons, which immediately stops firing.

In the passenger lounge, an acrid stench gives away the fact that something inside the Dancing Bantha is burning...

Well, hell, there's finally something I can do to be useful around here, Rhijans thought as the biting tang of the burnt...whatever...reached his nose.  "Something's burning back here," he called out, his voice going calmer in tone despite the threat of an on-board fire.  He slipped his restraints and grabbed a fire suppressor, trying to follow his nose to the source of the acrid fumes.

Grunting, Neary slams a hand hard into the panel near the light.  At the impact she winces a little but is rewarded with the light going out.

"I knew I've seen that dumb light before.  We ought to fix it, at some point," she tells Reldan.

Then comes the call about a fire and she sighs.  It is nice to catch a break now and then.

"Could someone please see to that?  We're kind of busy here," she calls back, not knowing if anyone is actually doing anything more than yelling "fire" at the moment.

Squinting against a flare of pain, Shard stands; her stomach lurches, then begins to settle.  The hangover won't last long, she knows - just enough to make her suffer for her indulgence, payback from the universe's grand, cosmic balance.  "We're on it!" she calls back to the cockpit as Rhijans snags a fire extinguisher.

I hope...

Thanus seems more relaxed, more at ease all of a sudden; Shard can guess why.  Needs to have something to do, does he? she thinks as she begins moving toward the smell, sniffing out the flames.  The conclusion seemed to fit the man to a 'T' - smooth, energetic, always on his toes, Rhijans reminded her a little of a Syriac V bush-cat, with its vast territory and constant drive to patrol it.

Herself?  The fire was just another thing to put a knot in her gut, and she'd rather be sitting in her chair, riding out the battle and the hangover both.  But...'needs must', her teacher used to say, one of the few things she thought he got correct.

"All clear!" Mark shouted from the turret. He checked just to make sure as he looked over his shoulder with a smile.

"We're in the clear. What's wrong now?"

"Not in the clear just yet... Reldan Jalt replies to Mark Jacobs, Stay alert, we've got more fighters inbound, but I think we're going to get away before they get here."

The pilot lets the Dancing Bantha slip into a steadier trajectory as the damaged TIE swerves away, unable to shoot at them any longer.  Instead he concentrates on plotting the best course back to Mothessh.  Next to him, Neary Narf slams her fist against her panel, and all the lights on the ship flicker for a moment before flaring back to full power again.

Rhijans and Shard start searching out the source of the burning smell.  It doesn't take them long to find a wall panel with smoke seeping out around the edges.  It also feels hot to the touch.  A sharp kick suffices to remove the panel, releasing a more smoke and exposing a small fire inside.

Rhijans pointed the extinguisher at the flames and sprayed the contents into the small compartment, continuing for a couple of seconds after he no longer saw any flame.  He paused, and watched for a few moments to make sure there wasn't another flare-up.

"Think we got it!" he called out.  In a quieter tone, he asked Shard, as he looked into the compartment again, "Any idea what all this runs to?"  Personally, this was on a much smaller scale than he'd studied any kind of starship operations or repairs, but if it was something vital, it'd be good to pass word along so someone could fix it.

Crouching down, Shard gingerly peers into the hole, wary of sudden sparks, flames, or something exploding.  Why it would, given the fuses and circuit breakers, she has no idea, but one never knew.  "Hopefully the fresher," she mutters.  "Better that than the hyperdrive."

Shuffling a little back, she glances up over her shoulder at Rhijans.  "I think we better sniff around some more." Her hands find the panal they kicked off, and she raises it up for a look.

It's probably too much to ask for lettering, but one can always hope.

Rhijans nodded.  "Nothing says that whatever overloaded this couldn't have hit some other systems, as well."

As Shard worked on replacing the panel, he started sniffing again, and running his hands across the repair panels with a surprisingly gentle touch, feeling for another hot-spot.

"That's it!" Reldan Jalt exclaims triumphantly as four more TIEs close in on the Dancing Bantha.  For one agonising moment it isn't entirely clear what he's referring to.

And then it is.

The stars stop being distant, bright points of light, and stretch into not-so-distant, bright streaks of light which hurtle past the ship and vanish, to be replaced by the swirling energies of hyperspace.

"Jacobs, you can stand down now, we made it."

The pilot pushes himself away from the console and quietly says to Neary, "Make sure everything's in the green, or at least the yellow.  I'm going to check up on this fire."

Back in the bowels of the ship, Rhijans and Shard have extinguished the blaze, and are busy checking for secondary fires when Reldan arrives, followed by R2-O0.  "Everything under control?"

Rhijans shrugged.  "Well, we don't seem to be in any danger of being incinerated while in hyperspace.  The hot-spot was over here," and he indicated the panel Shard had been working on.  "Haven't found anything else alarming, thus far."

With the exception of the mild sarcasm in the initial response, his tone was crisp, direct...professional.  Almost coldly analytical, even, as though the potential for a life-threatening fire was just another everyday event.

"Nothing serious, except my headache."  Shard sits down on the floor after settling the panel in place and puts her back against it.  The hum of the hyperdrive is welcome, slowly settling her nerves.  "Rhijans has done a great job getting the flames down, but you'd better have someone with more knowledge than the two of us -" not a terribly difficult thing "- have a look at the systems."

Shard has no idea what could go wrong, but is absolutely certain something will.

"Everyone else in good health?  Narf?  Jacobs?  The others?"  She cocks an eyebrow.  "Our guest?"

Rhijans is well, that much she knows.  In fact, the man appears completely unfazed.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:45, Thu 17 Mar 2011.

"I'll pound it into submission if I have to, captain," Neary replies to Reldan as he leaves and starts her checks, making sure that everything indeed is in at least the yellow.  AS she did a small grin starts to grow on her face.  It was rarely boring, at least, flying with him and for the rebels.

Reldan Jalt crouches to peer into the open panel, "I think it's part of the power distribution grid for the shields.  Most likely burned out when we took a hit."

He straightens up, "R2 can probably patch it up."

He turns away as the droid moves in to effect repairs.  "We're in the clear anyway.  Next stop Motthesh."