Haarmon, eyes closed, head pounding, stomach clenching and throat closing in reflexive response, tries to reach to close the cursed thing. He wasn't sure if it was the pyramid that was causing this, or some kind of signal, or some sense memory of his former life as an Emperor of some kind...

But he could work it out later. Right now there was closing the lid, and not heaving his breakfast cereal all over the deck.

Although, considering what he'd done to the Bantha in the past, a little whoopsie wasn't even all that big a deal.

The two rebels scramble out of the tunnel, and it is a relief to get into a space where they can stand.  Unfortunately their pursuer follows.  And turns out to be some sort of giant worm, it's whole body studded with countless stubby pseudopods which drive its bulk along.  Even the ones which would normally push against the sides and roof of the tunnel keep working in the open air, although there is nothing for those particular limbs to gain traction against.

Five metres of the creature emerge, and there is still some of it inside its lair...

Haarmon's hand flails helplessly, trying to slam the lid closed.  But it doesn't seem to be wher he is reaching for.  Either his senses are playing tricks, or the box is moving to avoid him.  And then Jalt's boot stamps down and slams the lid with no difficuly at all...

Rhijans tried to hurry along, doing his best to be careful of jagged edges on the wreckage they were now traversing.  "Jalt!  We have company...something followed us out of the ground, or decided to come out while we were down there...and it's big.  Better be ready to put some distance between the surface and the Bantha..."  He did his best to try and hurry Shard along, keeping an eye on the thing behind them and trying to decide if it was coming after them, or if it might be after the ship.

"This way!" he said, pulling in a direction about five degrees off a straight line to the Bantha.  They needed to know what the thing's target was...

"Void, void, void," Shard whispers to herself, a toneless chant of desperation.  Not like this, please, not like this. She resigned herself to dying violently some time ago; one doesn't watch teams shot to pieces without some sobering (or leading-to-intoxication) realizations.  But eaten alive?  By that thing pursuing them?

Without question, she twists to follow Rhijans - it's worth a shot, certainly.  Even so, "It has eyes," she gasps.  "I'm betting it's following us!"  Not argument, but clarification; the thing might have sensed the Bantha's approach thanks to vibrations in the asteroid, but it likely has a lock on them, now.

Though, to be honest, Shard would be all-too-pleased to lose that bet.

Her foot hits a rock and she stumbles, careful with the murder-stick.  Wouldn't it be a hoot if it was THIS thing it sensed? "I'm not normally one for explosions, but would a grenade dropped behind us do something?"

Haarmon groans weakly, rolls over, and pushes himself up into a sitting position.  Jalt claps him on the shoulder.  "You'll live." and hurries back through to the cockpit...

The creature stops, head swaying from side to side about twenty metres from the tunnel entrance.  The other end is still inside the tunnel.

And then the thing starts to move again, following the two rebels, and sliding further out of its lair...

Up above, the Bantha swings around and starts to move towards the pair as well...

"Question answered," Shard gasps.  Holding her concentration isn't easy, as much as her teacher made it seem.  But if the thing actually manages to catch up...she needs to be ready.  "Jalt!  Any way you can...put down ahead?  I think...we're gaining ground."

A quick glance ahead - no tripping hazards - then a quick glance behind.  "Maybe," Shard admits, optimism not exactly her strong suit.

OOC - I guess...keep running?  We're not exactly space heroes.  ^_^

Rhijans spoke up, in more decisive tones.  "set down one hundred twenty meters ahead of us, ten degrees to our right.  We'll change courses as soon as we see you go overhead.  He was breathing hard, but not yet labored...he didn't want to push the limits of endurance for the suits, though.  He continued, clinically, "We changed course, it took the thing a few seconds to reacquire us.  Should give us a few more meters on it when we hit the ramp."

If he had any doubts about hus plan, they didn't come through in his voice.  And his face, in the brief glimpses it was visible, wore a mask of intense concentration...he didn't appear to be wasting any effort considering options if he was wrong.  But, then, he rarely did...

Haarmon stared at the closed box for what seemed like a long, long time. His mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions. He was so awash in his own head he didn't even think to try any of the techniques Shard had taught him to quiet his mind. And even if he had, he wouldn't have been able.

What was he going to do about this?

One thing for sure, this crazy box needed more study.

But first...

"Jalt? Do they need any help out there? Can I, you know, do anything?"

"Got you Rhijans.  Your new friend is quite the charmer."

The Dancing Bantha adjusts its course and angles down towards the designated landing spot.

Jalt shouts over his shoulder to Haarmon, "Go stand by the hatch!  As soon as I give the word, pop the outer door so they don't have to wait to get aboard!"

The worm-like creature seems to be taking a definite interest in the two fleeing rebels, an it continues to pursue them on their new course.  Luckily, as Rhijans note, it doesn't appear to be fast.

It is, however, quite large.  With its head, and gaping mouth, now some thirty metres from the tunnel, its tail is still inside the shelter of its lair...

Plummeting like a stone, the Bantha comes to a halt less than two metres above the surface of the asteroid.  The boarding ramp extends, and almost touches the ground.

Shard and Rhijans move over that ground at the best speed they can make, considering their need to not tear open their suits on any of the metal fragments littering the stony surface.  Ahead of them, they can see the brightly lit, welcoming interior of the Bantha's airlock.

Behind them the somewhat less welcoming horror finally emerges fully from the tunnel.  Fifty metres long, or a touch more, the beast pauses in its pursuit, raises its head, and appears to study the ship.

Then the mouth opens up like Timoran sunpetal, gaping far wider than it had inside the tunnel, revealing row upon row of undulating spines...

Just run.

That's what her brain keeps telling her.  Just run.  Don't look back.  Don't try to figure out how far away it is, because if you're running as quickly as you can, seeing it won't make any difference.  Don't try to figure out what it's doing.

Just run.

And she does, for a short time.  But it proves impossible; the reptile brain has needs that cannot be thwarted.  And Shard, after a point, has no other choice.

...why did I HAVE to do that?

Bile in her throat, its iron taste slicking her tongue, she returns her gaze to the ship.  "Jalt!  I think that thing has decided the Bantha is the meal!"  Apparently, Rhijans and her are only appetizers, and why not, given the size of this monstrosity?


I hope it can't shoot those spines.  Probably not.  They're probably something to ensure its food makes it all the way down.

...getting shredded the whole time, far, far too slowly. 

Rhijans, unlike Shard, had no need to look back.  If the thing was going to catch them, he'd rather not know until it was too late and he'd make better time with his attention focused on where he was going.  "I think he's expecting that option," Rhijans replied, drily, breathing hard but evenly.  "Otherwise, he'd have actually set down..."

He maneuvered himself carefully between the...whatever-it-was...and Shard, figuring that if he was behind her, she'd be more motivated to keep running than worrying about the thing behind them...and less inclined to look if she couldn't see it because he was in the way.

"Just keep moving...faster we're in, faster they can leave, and the faster we're all safe away from this."  He was talking as much to himself as to Shard...but saying it aloud certainly didn't hurt.

Just a few more steps...

I'm stating the obvious, Shard considers.  And it's wasting Rhijans' time.  Best to avoid that in the future, though the older woman doesn't know how.  This isn't the first time she has remarked such, and her habit seems to be solidly ingrained.

Then the bounty hunter starts to drop back.

Shard shoots a quick glance over her shoulder, incredulous.  It seems impossible that he's tiring before her, but for what other reason might he be...then Rhijans himself states the obvious - without any serious gasping - and it hits her.

He's doing it on purpose.

"You..."  Still running - well, as running as one can do in this gravity without risking death or soaring off into space - Shard grits her teeth. "Rhijans, I happen to be...carrying the thing that'll give that monster serious indigestion!" she manages, slowing down a touch herself in an attempt to run - well, move - in a line.  "Not going to...argue about who gets to be last...but maybe nobody?"

Pacing himself to avoid knocking Shard down, Rhijans gave a grunt as an initial response...it might have been amusement, or just acknowledgment.  It was hard to say.  "I'm not getting on that ship without you," he said managing it all in one breath, before pausing to take a couple more.

"And I AM getting on that ship."  There was a finality in his voice...no interest in even considering the question of having to cause the thing behind them indigestion.  It was the verbal equivalent of giving her a push on the shoulder to encourage her to move faster.  Whether or not she took it that way, he had no idea...

And then the pair are on the ramp, and it starts to lift, even as the ship does the same.

The creature rears and gapes its maw again, and this time a bright blue membrane expands around its neck in a sort of frill.  Then it "rushes" towards the Bantha.  An exercise in futility, as it turns out - the ship rises far more quickly than the thing can move.

As Jalt pulls the ship around in an upward spiral, the creature can be seen on the surface below, rearing upwards with its mouth and neck frill both spread wide.

"From this distance it looks like a flower." the pilot remarks, looking down at it from the cockpit.  "Some sort of weed that you'd need a thermal detonator to clear."

At the airlock door, Shard and Rhijans start to remove their suits...
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:46, Mon 28 Aug 2017.

Rhijans paused for just a moment after getting the helmet of his suit off, favoring Shard with what might have been a ghost of a smile.  "Told you I was getting on this ship..." he said, in the closest thing to a teasing tone he'd uttered in...ages, really.

Then he proceeded to finish climbing out of the suit without further comment or fuss, reverting back to the cold functionality that was the norm for him.  Jalt had said something about Haarmon possibly dying, and they had a prisoner still aboard, though he had faith that, between Colonel Kourene and You-Why, the Imperial Tech had been kept well in hand.  But there was no time to linger over the successful evasion of whatever-that-thing-was, or to spare any time in getting out of the suits.

A flower.

"I'm gonna strangle him," Shard sourly grates out as she sags against the panelling.  It's not serious; inside, she's struggling against a storm of emotions.  Horror, disgust, elation, all make for a sickening mess when combined with physical exhaustion.  "Flower.  That's one horrifying bloom..."  One eyebrow rises as she studies Rhijans; reading him is always difficult, but he seems...pleased?  Almost playful, at this point?

As much as Rhijans can be, in any case, and it's not a bad look.

"Well, I have no issue with you being right, here," she shoots back, recovering a hint of her equanimity.  "Take the win, I won't begrudge."  Helmet off, she manages a grin before brushing her sopping hair out of her eyes.

Suit comes off, next, Shard turning away for modesty's sake.  Grabbing a towel, she briefly swipes at the sweat on her body before climbing back into her split-skirt dress. Really going to need time in the fresher after this, she muses.  Then she recalls the experience of heightening her senses within the suit.

It hadn't seemed possible before, but that fresher is looking even better, now.

"Better figure out what's up with Haarmon." Stating the obvious, again, but as always Shard feels the need to punctuate.

Haarmon, oddly enough, is standing close to the hatch, having allowed Rhijans an Shard quick access to the ship.  He looks a little shaken, if anything, and perhaps slightly pale, but otherwise he seems all right.

"I got the box open, and there was something inside, but then I felt sick and almost passed out.  Jalt slammed the lid closed again, and I felt better right away."

Haarmon rubs a hand through his hair, "Funny thing is, I don't remember what it was.  I can see myself looking into the box, and I can see that there's something there, but I can't make out the shape of it.  And if I try too hard to visualise it, my head feels like Juragga's pounding on it."

Rhijans shot a glance over at Shard.  This was outside his realm of expertise, or even of comfortably faking it.  It sounded mystical, somehow, and he didn't do mystical.

"He made it sound like you were at death's door...what we could hear of him over the commlink at the time, at least.  Doesn't take a whole lot of metal wreckage to screw up a commlink signal around here..."  He gave Haarmon a measured look, before adding, "Glad to see you're not."

Shard resists the urge to double-check Haarmon's health, herself.  If he says he's all right...  He's your student, it's natural to be worried.  But she needs to trust him on this.  "Yeah, we were pretty worried," she replies, with a small smile herself. "Rhijans almost frowned."

She gives a short nod to the bounty-hunter, figuring what he meant.  "Let's go take a look at this box.  Maybe a look in, as well.  I'm hoping it's not a mind-in-a-jar or somesuch; I like my body being mine."  It's less of a concern, now, with Haarmon acting as he is.

"No!" Haarmon said, far more sharply than he had intended, at Shard's suggestion.

And then an awkward pause.

"I mean, do what you gotta do. I ain't the king of noone. But I.. uh... don't think it's anything good. You know. Whatever it is." He managed to sound halfway sincere, but he found he couldn't meet Shard's or Rhijans' gaze.

Shard shoots a glance at Rhijans.  Now this, this disturbs her.  Glancing around, she finds an acceleration seat and sits down.  "Haarmon.  From where I'm standing, something is clearly wrong.  Will you tell us what?  Please?"

She doesn't like this, doesn't like it at all.

Reldan Jalt flies the Dancing Bantha above the surface of the asteroid.  "There's a lot of wreckage down there for some reason.  It's as if the ships were attracted here, perhaps by the beacon, and then something caused them to crash."

"The thing is, I don't know of anything that could do that.  Especially so often.  I'm not sure I want to find out either."

He falls silent for a moment, then gives a long, low whistle.  "Some of these wrecks are pretty big.  I don't think that creature could have  pulled them down.  It probably couldn't have wrecked the Bantha even."

"In any case, if we're all done here, I'm taking us higher up."

Rhijans spoke up.  "Nothing to be gained by loitering above the surface here...if anything, it increases the chances that someone else picking up the beacon finds us here, and I don't think they'd buy the 'we were just looking' storyline."  He shrugged, and added, "Wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on it, for a little bit, but best do that from a distance that doesn't incriminate us."

He looked at Haarmon, trying to discern, in his own way, what the slicer's issue was, or get some kind of read on how he was reacting to talk about the device.

Climbing down from the gun turret, Juragga warbled an interrogative towards Haarmon, moving over to make sure the kid was okay.  He'd had that overgrown weed in his sights, but had held fire until the last moment, just in case.

Maybe he'd never make a good gardener.  But now his concern was his friends... Haarmon in particular.