The Knight, Death, and the Devil

Chapter 15: It's A Subtle Thing

The four companions wasted no time in their preparation to leave the planet, stripping the Imperial shuttle of its useful gear, as well as what had been stored in the cliffside villa. The elevator leading from the landing pad to the surface of the planet had a stop in between—a hidden hangar, built into the side of the cliff with bay doors that were indistinguishable from the surrounding rock outside. Contained within the hangar lay a single ship, an Imperial interceptor similar to the one Torin had boarded when his future Master spirited him away to Balmorra.

It was older, of course—a legacy item if you were being generous, an antique if you were not—but it was in working order. Each time Torin entered the hangar with a hover sled full of supplies he saw Nomi inspecting a different part of the ship, pumping liquid nitrogen through coolant hoses to test for leaks or measuring afterburner alignment. He could only hope that her subconscious hatred of Vathamma did not override her better judgement when she checked for any issues that could have the ship cracking in two when they made the jump to hyperspace.

More worrisome than anything going on inside the hangar was what was happening outside. The fog which enveloped the planet grew thicker each time he made the trip topside, until the last of the treetops had disappeared in the murk, leaving the few remaining mountain tops as the sole evidence of solid land. Thunder sounded in the distance, blue lightning crackling upward from shrouded ground to clear sky in a strange perversion of normal weather. For all he cared, whatever storm was coming could sweep aside the cliffside home, landing pad and all, as long as it had the decency to wait a few hours for their departure.

Still, he could not help but consider it a bad omen. In his past life—if he could call it such a grandiose thing—he never would have entertained superstitious thoughts, but now the Force flowed through him. Surely, he had to trust his gut feelings if they came from some fount of deeper wisdom.

This was why, despite the creature comforts afforded him during the short stay, Torin was happy to board the ship with the others as they made the final preparations for their departure. He walked up the ramp, ascended a short stairwell, and passed through the lounge in the center of the ship, tossing his bag in a corner of the room before entering the bridge. Vathamma sat in the captain's chair, with Nomi and Maliss standing behind her.

The hangar doors opened in front of them, rock and dirt falling past the opening as the cliff shook. The ship lurched and Torin grabbed a ceiling handle to steady himself, watching as his Master piloted the ship out of the bay and into the open air, immediately turning the ship upward into an ascent that took them further and further from the mists shrouding the planet until they had disappeared from view entirely. The Sith took her hands off the controls and charted out a course on the console in front of her, then pulled a lever to trigger the jump to hyperspace. The ship seemed to move before he did, and his stomach roiled as the array of stars stretched and warped, heralding the first of the several long jumps that would take them to Quesh.

"I'm gonna see what your drink selection is like." Maliss left the bridge and went to the central lounge.

Torin peered over the captain's chair at the astro-navigational charts displayed on the ship's console. "How long will this take?"

"Three days," his Master said with a sigh.

"Will we get there in time?" Nomi asked, wringing her hands together. Vathamma frowned, clearly unhappy with the idea of explaining herself to her former slave.

"Assuming that message was accurate, yes. The raw adrenal ingredients they're transferring require careful preparation and handling. Lord Andar's ship won't be making a short visit."

"Three days," Torin echoed. He looked back down the hallway, and could hear cabinets opening and closing as the Mandalorian searched for something alcoholic. Nearly everyone on board had tried to kill each other at least once. The prospect of three days on such a small ship had him uneasy.