OOC:

Three ancillary skills combined in a single story: Piloting Shuttles, Environmental Survival and Starfighter Mechanic. Got a second confirmation from Stormz the other day that it was still possible to combine different certs/skills so long as the IC settings made sense and so long as the individual objectives from each skill/cert were achieved in the process. I'd have used the full names in the title but that apparently has a character limit to it so no such luck...

Enough! Oh for the love of... I'm awake already! Seth Qorbin thought as he struggled to open his eyes. As soon as he managed that simple feat the man wanted to close them back up again and imagine that the vision he just had was still part of some distant dream. What the frak? the Onderonian thought and tried opening his eyes once more, this time determined to keep them open no matter what.

It was a decision that he immediately regretted, yet true to his own determination the man still managed to remain composed as he turned his head around, taking in more of his surroundings. From what he could tell, the Navy Ensign was strapped to a seat, one larger than those of regular TIE starfighters. The flight instruments in front of him were also different than those of regular TIEs, though considering just how broken up and burned up some of them were that little detail hardly seemed to matter anymore.

"What the frak?" the officer managed to utter aloud, for the first time since waking up feeling the somewhat familiar taste of iron in the back of his throat. The man's mind had already started going through the various possibilities all the while still trying to remember that which seemed even more important for the time being - what exactly had happened to him? Just how exactly did he come to be in that situation anyway?

Whoa! the Wing Commander jumped a little in his seat after realizing that he was not alone in this situation. He stood still and continued staring to his right at the person strapped in a seat very much like his own.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Warrant Officer Yurst Vacko, it's an honor to fly with you sir!" the younger looking man saluted and gave a big smile. For his part Seth returned both the salute and the smile - the Onderonian still wasn't keen on working with a copilot, but he supposed that if he absolutely had to, then at least it was a good thing the guy assigned to him was the friendly sort.

~~~~~~~~~~

The flashback ended just as quickly and unexpectedly as it came, leaving behind only the still face of the man Seth now knew was named Yurst Vacko. Qorbin reached out with his right arm and gently closed the other pilot's eyelids. It was not the first time he stared into a pair of dead eyes... just as it was not the first time the sight made his stomach tighten a little bit more.

Retracting his arm, the Onderonian pilot next proceeded to unstrap himself from his seat. Although he had no idea where exactly he was, the experienced pilot could at least tell that they were not in space. At least not flying through it themselves...

"Oww", Seth steadied himself as he got to his feet. He could not feel any particularly great source of pain but rather he felt his entire body as heavy and sore. This in turn made the man wonder something else - just how long was he out anyway?

The Vast Empire pilot was still trying to make sense of everything when his mind once more went temporarily blank after turning to face the back of the vessel he was in. It was a small cabin of sorts, four more seats found inside it and the first thing Seth realized was that he recognized the design. He could not tell for certain until then but by the looks of things he was in an Imperial shuttle - a Lambda T-4a no doubt.

Although that small realization made the blond Human feel a little better, the far bigger realization that there were more corpses in those seats made him feel a whole lot worse however. The Ensign tried looking at all their faces - the ones he could see anyway - and the man just knew that he had met all these men before. He could see flashes of them talking, laughing and shouting. He could see himself as part of those flashes as well but no matter how much the man tried, he could not manage to put them all together. It was most infuriating - having a bunch of tiny pieces of a larger puzzle yet being unable to put it all together simply because he had no idea where to start and what the end result was supposed to look like...

Seth slowly and carefully made his way to each of the people that had been seated behind him and checked for vitals where he could not tell for certain whether they were indeed already dead or not. The short man seated right behind him for instance seemed to still have a pulse. Qorbin tried calling out, as well as gently shaking and even slapping the unconscious man but his efforts were proven futile. The fellow to his right was definitely dead given the piece of metal that had fallen from somewhere in the ceiling of the shuttle, managing to impale the person where he stood. DeepSix could only hope that the man did not suffer long because of it.

There were two more seats after that, but both of them were empty. Instead another body lay motionless by the cockpit's hatch which had apparently been shut... and even locked in place on their side by what looked to be a small metal pipe. Seth crouched next to the body and again checked for a pulse, finding none there however. Rather than simply pushing the corpse aside, the Ensign picked it up and dropped it in one of the empty seats, trying as best as he could not to be overly rough or disrespectful in doing so.

Next the man returned to the hatch, struggled a bit with the small metal pipe and finally managed to open it. The stench that invaded the cockpit after doing so made the blond Onderonian cringe. It was a heavy smell, one similar to that of roasting some big game, only Seth knew that couldn't have been the case - the military would after all not use some of its best shuttles to transport wildlife. Besides, it was not the first time the Wing Commander smelled something similar. Oh no, after the battle at Belgaroth the pilot recalled being in a hangar temporarily used to store salvage as well as the remains of pilots found floating through space. Many of the latter shared a similar if not identical smell...

Seth Qorbin stood still for a little while, trying to both get used to the nauseating smell as well as trying to muster enough nerve to step forward and see for himself that which he would've really preferred not to had he been given the chance.

Here goes! the man thought as he unsteadily took a step forward. Then another after that and one more after that until he stopped in his tracks once more, the vision before him too strong to simply ignore. There, in the middle of the shuttle, still strapped to their seats laid the charred remains of an entire Vast Empire squad.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Captain Hukkaj here will be in charge of the mission once you reach your destination. He and his men are some of the best the Vast Empire has to offer", Seth recalled the words that a smug looking VENI operative offered upon introducing him to the commander of the Umbra Squad - a small group of military men and women that was apparently quite frequently called upon by the spooks to deal with all sorts of missions on their behalf.

~~~~~~~~~~

Not anymore it seems, Seth thought without any intended cynicism or malice. He took another hard look at what was left of the corpses before turning his gaze away and making his way to the shuttle's ramp. It took him three attempts as well as some punching and a few swear words to get the thing to open somewhat and allow him to get outside.

"Outside" though seemed like little improvement over that which was inside however. An endless sea of sand, lots of dry air and enough heat to eventually drive a person insane. And there, in the middle of it all stood Seth Qorbin, next to a crashed Lambda shuttle.

I always thought hell would be more crowded though...

OOC:

WC: 1394

Such a whole bunch of... nothing! the Wing Commander realized as he surveyed his surroundings. The man was inspired enough to take a pair of binoculars from one of the Life Support Cabinets and also use them whilst standing on top of the crush-landed shuttle. The way Seth figured, even some small vantage point was better than no vantage point at all. Be that as it may, all the man managed to see around him was just one endless sea of sand. Pale sand, yellowish sand, reddish sand, brownish sand - all sorts of sand just piling on top of yet more sand and occasionally being blown by the wind only to end up being mixed up with some more sand in the process.

Such a despicable planet, the man thought as he rubbed his left eye, trying to get some of the sand out. The sand however wasn't the only thing that the Ensign needed to worry about. No, the Onderonian pilot also needed to consider just what exactly were the chances of the Vast Empire mounting a Search and Rescue operation after them, whether or not such a rescue team would have any chance at all of finding them in the bloody middle of nowhere and most important of all just how long he should spend waiting around and trying to figure out the answers to all those other questions.

That was probably the hardest decision of them all - whether to stay put and wait for rescue to come, hoping the supplies aboard would last long enough till then... or whether he should pack up on anything useful that he could carry and just venture out into the vast nothingness in the hopes that somewhere, sometime soon, he'd be able to find some help.

There were only a handful of problems with that latter choice... First, he had no idea in which direction he should go in order to find civilization - and he used the term loosely. Second, he had no clue whatsoever whether the desert had any sort of plants or wildlife. That in turn raised a whole bunch of other issues - would he find shade, would he find food, would he instead become food? Third, walking around in an unknown desert during daytime sounded most suicidal. Doing it during nighttime sounded mildly less so, though the man could not for the life of him figure out where he should hide when the wretched suns would rise once more.

No, for the time being Seth believed he was safest right there - he had the shuttle itself to filter out some of the heat, not to mention the accursed sand too, he still had the emergency supplies to last him for a while longer... and technically speaking he still had another living member of the shuttle's crew to take care of, seeing how the latter remained unconscious no matter what Seth attempted.

But first, the man shuddered as he considered the immediate task ahead of him...

~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours had gone by and Seth found himself panting and sweating even harder than before. The Ensign returned to the shuttle and one by one, carried out all the corpses found inside. He tried to be gentle about it and also tried to show respect for the men that had given their lives in the tiny deathtrap but even so the Navy officer needed to concentrate as much as possible not to bolt outside and empty the contents of his stomach. Especially when his hand slipped and instead of again grabbing a hardened uniform, the man grabbed the oily remains of the corpse he was carrying at the time.

The Navy, and military in general, can teach and prepare an individual for many situations... but carrying the bodies of allies, especially when hardly recognizable and/or badly decomposed - Seth could not imagine any self respecting military organization teaching such a thing to its cadets. Part of him also tried finding comfort in the knowledge that the space battles he usually fought in were somewhat cleaner and generally speaking a tad more dignified.

A bit more impersonal too but that was fine actually. There was just the pilot, his allies and the enemies - the former two trying to get rid of the latter by outmaneuvering them and by simply squeezing some triggers or pressing a few buttons. Death could come at any moment, from any angle and when it did finally come it was almost always instant and painless. Most pilots, be them military, pirates or regular spacers, knew and accepted these things.

"Rest well!" Seth shouted as he held up a bottle of water before bringing it to his lips and taking a few swigs from it. He'd have toasted something along the lines of "forever fly amongst the stars" had the bodies belonged to fallen pilots, not to mention he'd have toasted with some proper liquor too... Then again current circumstances did not really allow as much.

The Navy officer remained still and silent for a couple of minutes longer before he went inside the shuttle. He moved the wounded crewman in the back and tried making him comfortable on one of the benches. Next the man went through the Emergency Life Support cabinets and pulled out anything that he thought was useful or that may come in handy in the immediate future. Lastly the Wing Commander returned to the cockpit and tried to determine in just what state all the instruments and systems were in. It was most unlikely that the shuttle would be able to fly again any time soon, but maybe he could send a signal or at least listen to some of the local chatter to pass the time.

Where to bloody start from?

OOC:

WC: 964

Wonder why I didn't think of this earlier, Seth thought as he cut another burnt wire's isolation, removed the damaged section and used his fingers to twirl the remaining two ends together, finally using some good ol' fashioned duct tape to keep them in one piece. It was crude and unaesthetic but at least it seemed to get the job done. Next I'll go for that one... it's bigger, it's red and it looks like it's important - and that's good enough for me, the Ensign smiled as he began repeating the earlier procedure.

This whole operation lasted for the better part of the day, the Navy officer having verified and changed wires all the way from the tip of the cockpit to the very end of it, having removed durasteel boards from the floor, walls and ceiling to bring more of them into view. When he was finished with it though, the man was quite tired and sleepy. He drank some more water, made sure to force feed some of it to the unconscious crewman in the back as well and then turned off for the night.

No more strange visions haunted his dreams, though the Wing Commander did wake up twice in the middle of the night, believing he had heard movement outside. He ignored it the first time around, but actually picked up his blaster pistols and got outside to check things out the second time it happened. The officer stood near the ramp and strained his eyes to see the area around him but no matter how much he tried, the fellow could not see anything out of place. There were no strange shapes, no weird noises and generally nothing indicating that there was anyone or anything else out there. Despite this, Seth could still feel a strange presence looming about.

The man lowered his guns, got back inside the shuttle and just to be on the safe side of things, raised the ramp so as to ensure that nothing could get in. Following that, Seth tried to sleep some more, only waking up again early in the morning thanks to some strange moans that he simply knew were not of his own making.

What the? the Ensign opened his eyes and reached for his blasters but quickly holstered the guns after realizing the injured systems operator was the one thrashing in his sleep.

"Hey, buddy! Hey!" Qorbin shouted and lightly slapped the other man across the face - same way he did the previous day too - "Hey, I could use you over here", the Navy officer continued, not trying to sound selfish but also not trying to hide the truth either.

The other VE member thrashed, moaned and groaned for a few more minutes before finally opening his eyes just as Seth was about to deliver another slap to the man's already red cheeks. The pilot stopped himself in time of course. "Hey, nice to have you back! Now whatever you do... don't go back to sleep, you hear?" Seth tried speaking in a clear tone of voice, making sure each and every word was loud enough. The other man tried to say something but Qorbin rapidly stopped him "Hold that thought! First, take this... Drink some water."

The Wing Commander had tried keeping the other fellow hydrated but he had no way of knowing whether he had succeeded in that attempt or not. Plus some more water would serve to strengthen the man that just woke up after whole hours of sleeping - or so at least Seth thought and also hoped...

"Wha-- What happened?" the other man spoke after having gulped down some of the warm water. "We crashed", Seth bluntly replied, deciding not to provide any further details. "Everyone else?" the Warrant Officer asked next and this time around Qorbin shook his head first, only afterward adding "We're the sole survivors." The Wing Commander again paused before further adding "And unless you've got some better tech skills then my own... we're likely not going to continue surviving for much longer."

The two men spoke for a few more minutes - mostly the Warrant Officer asking questions and Seth trying to provide the man with answers - before they made their way to the cockpit, Seth being kind enough so as to allow the other fellow to lean against his shoulder.

"I know this may look bad... not to mention messy and chaotic... but I think I'm making good progress restoring power to the instruments here. If we can get a working comm, then we might be able to send a distress signal - and hope the ones coming for us are friendlies. Or enemies in few numbers. Right now I'd even settle for that", the Ensign spoke, every now and then turning to look at the Warrant Officer - basically trying to see whether the other fellow was impressed or horrified by what he was looking at.

"Sir, have you tried using the cockpit's independent generator?" the systems officer asked - likely the first question that sprung to mind, but a question that struck Qorbin fairly hard. "The independent generator?" the Ensign repeated in a faded voice, having no idea what the other man was talking to. "Yes sir. During times of distress the Lambda shuttle was designed to detach its cockpit and allow it to function independently. It's not ideal for hyperspace jumps or other long voyages but it's at least as useful as any other escape pod... Anyways, to accomplish as much, the cockpit was outfitted with an independent power generator."

Wonder if any of this was found in the manual, Seth Qorbin pondered. The man recalled skipping through the large book, only bothering with things he personally considered important such as flight controls and warnings related to the craft's limitations in either space or atmosphere. How was he to know he'd end up needing any further information than that?

"Right... Right, of course... So, can you switch that on? Power up whatever systems are still operational?" Seth asked in a hopeful voice, the Warrant Officer replying in an equally hopeful tone "I believe so sir, just let me see exactly what are problem is."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Can't you just replace some parts or something?" the Ensign inquired, though he could already tell the answer given the other man's expression. "Sorry sir but it wouldn't work without specific parts and the shuttle isn't carrying any such spares."

Great, he got the thing to light up again only now we've got no place to go and no one to get in touch with. Now that's just frakin gre- "You said the cockpit could detach itself and fly on its own, right?" Javelin's commander asked and the other man's eyes suddenly brightened up, already seeing what the more senior officer had in mind.

"The damage looks minor and the systems we've lost aren't directly required to fly the ship around... Certainly not if we're just going to use it as an oversized landspeeder to reach the nearest hub of civilization... I'll need to run a few more checks and maybe attempt a few bypasses here and there but I think we've got a good chance of pulling this off. It's just that... well we'd also need to get rid of some if not all of the sand that's currently in the way."

In other words someone - or the guy not busy doing the bypasses and whatnot - should go outside in the criminal heat and play in the blasted sand, Qorbin realized and frowned at the thought. Still, he knew that it was the best, and also quickest way out of their predicament so he just got to his feet and nodded his approval. "You stay and deal with all that tecky stuff, I'll be outside trying to unbury us..."

The Ensign opened the shuttle's ramp and made his way outside where he began shoving away the sand around the cockpit. At first the man used his bare hands but soon realized that was not only taking too long, it was also starting to burn him in the process. Next he used a squarish piece of plastic that he ripped apart from one of the passenger chairs - not like they were going to have any more of those for this ride...

Two hours or more must've passed since then and Seth found himself drenched in sweat from all the effort. On the plus side, he had managed to clear the viewport and most of the areas around the cockpit. He was next trying to clear the way a bit right in front of the Lambda shuttle when he noticed the Warrant Officer inside banging on the transparisteel and motioning ahead. Is he done? Seth wondered and gave the man a smile and a thumbs up, not that the other stopped pointing and banging...

What's gotten into... him? Qorbin began to wonder but found out the answer to that question as soon as he turned and faced the horizon. A huge black wave of swirling winds was coming and it did not look like the encounter would be an easy one. At the very least the nasty looking sandstorm would bury the shuttle once more in sand... Quite possibly enough sand to prevent anyone from being able to get out in the process though.

Oh frak! And here I was thankful for the cool breeze...

"Is it ready?" the Ensign shouted but was unsure whether the systems officer inside heard him or not. Nothing more I can do here anyway, he realized and the man turned towards the ramp when yet another thing drew his attention next - a bunch of gruesome sounding shouts, as if someone kept choking over and over again. Only it wasn't a single someone by the sounds of it... Oh what now?

The Vast Empire pilot turned around just in time to see a few more creatures rise from the very sand, yelling the same choke-like battle cry before rushing towards him. I heard the spacers talking about sand demons but I never thought I'd have the good fortune of seeing one myself. It's moments like these that make me so bloody happy to still be alive.

The officer's cynicism did not prevent him from drawing out his blasters and starting to shoot however. At first the demons did not return fire, and Seth felt pretty good about himself after bringing down a couple of the charging creatures. It was only after the sand colored beings began to fire back that the man turned tail and made for the shuttle as quickly as he could. He didn't mind being overwhelmed, but being overwhelmed in the middle of the desert with no cover around and by creatures that could shoot back from long range - Seth was not willing to take those odds...

"Close the ramp!!!" Qorbin screamed - in a very manly fashion of course - as he struggled to get inside the shuttle as soon as humanly possible. "What are they?" the Warrant Officer asked as he pressed a few buttons that raised the shuttle's ramp. "Don't know, don't care, don't have time to bother with them either", Seth struggled to regain his breath as he first grabbed a couple E-11s from the gun cabinet and next made his way inside the cockpit.

"Between these bastards and that... thing coming our way I'd say we're majorly screwed unless you give me some good news. How about it Warrant Officer? Can this bucket of bolts fly out and away or are we going to wait and guess exactly what will kill us first?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I wanted to run a few more diagnostics, as well as try some tests fir--" the systems operator started but the man was interrupted by Qorbin "No time for any of that. Will this deathtrap fly or not?"

"It... might?" the WO replied, not really convinced that he had done a thorough enough job earlier. "Good enough for me", Seth nodded and hopped in the pilot's seat. "Take a seat and help me out here", the Ensign next commanded as he stared at both the approaching sandstorm and also the blaster bolts that impacted with the shuttle's hull. Thankfully the creatures were shooting with small weapons and the shuttle's hull was designed to try and resist even heavy weapons, so the Navy officer wasn't immediately concerned by the chance of them blowing up as a result of this.

"Disengaging clamps... now!" the Warrant Officer shouted and almost immediately afterward Seth could feel the ship changing its gravity point and falling. The inertial dampeners weren't on, but then again the distance was also only a few feet high so the shock was hardly serious. "Starting repulsorlifts... now!" the WO cried again but this time around nothing occurred. "Now!" the man repeated and Seth looked around but again nothing happened.

"What's wrong?" the Ensign inquired. "The repulsorlifts... they're not responding and without them we can't get in the air", was the systems officer's reply. "Then skip them. Engage the shields - if we still have any - and start the engines instead." It was hardly a good idea and both Seth and the other man knew as much. Then again in light of the ever approaching storm, it was as good a choice as any other.

"Engines... online!" the WO notified and Seth tried pulling on the control yoke. The detached section of the shuttle began moving forward though it failed to also gain altitude in the process. "Damn... Say now, are you by any chance a religious person?" Seth asked as he kept the cockpit flying - or rather moving fairly fast whilst still on ground level - straight for the sandstorm.

"Sir?" the other man asked, unsure what the blond Human was planning. "Yeah, me neither..." Seth smiled as he disappeared in the storm.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tusken Raiders were busy burying themselves back in the sand, knowing that after the storm would pass the loot they kept careful watch on would still be there, just waiting to be dug back up...

The last of them was just about ready to follow his kinsmen's example and disappear beneath the surface when he noticed a tiny grey shape shooting out from the storm and crossing the sky in the opposite direction. The creature shouted its frustration though the sound would never reach the two Humans safely flying away...

~~~~~~~~~~

"A question if I may sir - how did you know that would work?" the Warrant Officer finally asked after they've managed to put a few kilometers between themselves and the dangers behind them.

"Didn't. The way I figured three things could happen: one, the currents could prove strong enough to get us off the ground; two, we'd continue running through the storm until our engines would give way; three, we'd end up buried in tons of sand, never to be found again."

"So we've only had what - 33% chances to make it through?" the other man asked again, both surprised and at the same time happy that they managed those odds though.

"Half that actually. The currents could be strong enough to get us off the ground and keep us in the air... but they could just as easily pick us up and throw us back down again."

Noticing the other man's expression Seth gave him a smile "Don't bother with statistics and probabilities kid. A pilot, much like a swoop racer, never cares about his supposed chances of success, he instead cares only about the goal and the need to achieve that certain goal. Anything else comes second..."

Qorbin wasn't sure whether that made a whole lot of sense, or whether the other man fully understood it all but he couldn't really explain it any clearer than that. "How far till we hit civilization? I'm dying for a clean shower, a hot meal and a cold bottle of whatever these good for nothings consider their best..."

OOC:

WC: 2678