WriteHaven

A fighter dropped out of hyperspace. It was a sleek silver dart with the cockpit a small bubble on top almost all the way back to its single proportionately massive engine. It looked more like a racer, all smooth lines, and big engine but it was almost as if someone had mounted a couple of laser cannons to its two rounded off, reverse delta winglets, and called it a fighter for marketing purposes.

Rik was glad the flight was over. Mostly over. As comfortable as the little ship was, he wasn’t entirely sold on all the frills and gimmicky doodads. Who thinks to put a state of the art, restaurant-quality espresso machine in a snub fighter? It boggled the mind. Especially someone who had just spent the past ten years subsistence living in the jungle where most of the flora and fauna would like you to be their next meal. And then eat your SOUL on top of it.

But you’re fast, I’ll give you that. Wonder how you’d handle with all this junk stripped out though. An option for another time maybe.

There was something different going on down on Bakura’s surface. Rik could feel it even before he dropped back into real space. Force light, he realized only belatedly. Though most of his memories were back from his time on Nexus some things weren’t as clear as others. He was familiar with the technique though he had no talent for it himself. A couple of masters back on Nexus had developed it over the years there to beginning curing the land around their cave. This emanation felt slightly different in purpose to theirs though… it felt more like…

A beacon! I guess I have my heading then. He toggled a couple of switches.

Preparing for atmospheric reentry, his ship's sultry voice replied.

Stuff it, sister. I’ll deal with you later. How many times do you have to tell me exactly what I’ve already done? I don’t care how attractive and inviting they programmed you to be, you could drive a man to drink. And I don’t even like coffee!

He took a breath. Remember your training Idannian. Anger is not the way. Unplugging superfluous subsystems is though. With that firmly resolved in his psyche, Rik nosed his fighter toward the light, and hopefully an old friend.

*Hundreds of thousands of miles out in space above Bakura a small, decrepit, but obviously well-loved (and slightly less-well-maintained) snub fighter drops out of hyperspace at the L4 point between Bakura and its largest moon. The L4 point itself isn't a necessity, but it was both a point of pride and a reflection of his training that Caleb chose it, not least because it was one of the single hardest and stupidest (though admittedly also rewarding) things his Master had insisted he learn how to find.

The craft itself sported a chassis with the ubiquitous eyeball design from TIE family, but the wing panels had been replaced with stubby, cut-down chunks of something, though it was no longer clear if the donor had been been an Incom or Slayn & Korpil. Oddly enough, though, closer inspection would reveal they were not fixed, but rather mounted as S-foils.

Attempting to wiggle into a slightly more comfortable position in the incredibly tiny cockpit, Caleb powered down everything other than comms, nav, and life support as he settled in, hoping that he'd eventually get some sort of clue to help him decide on his next step.*

Why Force Light, though..? And it was incredibly strong, too. The only people strong enough to be THAT loud, and specifically with Light, are all gone or dead. Or something. It doesn't make any sense, unless my Master 'forgot' to tell me something.

...

Of course he did. Yet again.

*Caleb audibly sighs, the sound echoing slightly inside his helmet as his mouth quirks into a wry grin, speaking to himself.*

"Yeah, I get it. 'Ignorance, yet Knowledge'. And this would probably also count as a 'Chaos, yet Harmony', too. So be it, Master. Let's see what we've got."

*Shifting himself one more time in a vain attempt to find some level of comfort, Caleb keeps his eyes on his instruments as he pushes his own thread of Force Light back down at the planet below.*