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by the inquest
"Arguments on their nature are refuted by those who return to shore, wide-eyed with tales of their savagery."
All Moirans are woken to the sounds of the ship coming to a rather grating halt some time in the early morning cycle. It’s no faster or slower than any other stop, but it is unexpected as the captains didn’t mention an upcoming disembarkment. Shortly after, a message is sent to every MID:Navigation has informed us that we’re approaching bad traveling conditions: an overactive star. Instead of stopping on Liant El, we’ll be docking here on Ceta. Please exercise caution while gathering supplies and during excursions. Follow their safety guidelines. If the chance allows, we’ll also be signing new crew on the planet. Please greet them first and show them to the ship. Thank you. The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar.
For those few who come through Ceta's Ingress, there will be crew of the Moira there to greet you. They tell you of the Ingress, how it is broken, even on this planet, and that the ship is headed back to the origin of this technology. This planet’s Ingress is set precariously atop a floating rock formation, the only way from one area to the next is on small air-propelled boats. Crew members will guide everyone back to the Moira and take them to the Medbay; contracts will be signed posthaste.
WELCOME TO CETA
At first glance, Ceta seems mostly inhabitable, and that's because it is. The atmosphere around the planet is surprisingly thick in most places, sometimes thin in others, and without some way to filter the air, it is mostly unbreathable; it's a giant gas planet, its core made of various molten metals and the atmosphere a mix of oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrous. Ceta's gravity is also uneven, meaning that some areas will have stronger focal points than others. The terrain, when it is visible, appears rather rocky—hardly the best conditions for life and stable living. What's more unusual, however, is that despite this fact, there is, indeed, a small populace "living" among the mist and clouds, but it's clear they do not live here year-round. It's hunting season, and they are there for the bounty.
These visitors have built small platforms that are hooked together by ropes and swinging bridges, which they call "temporaries". Unstable buildings are rare, dangerous, and spread out over these temporaries to prevent damage or accidents. The temporaries float along, swaying and shifting with the planet’s atmosphere, and posted at every point of entry and all open surfaces are a particular set of rules that everyone must abide by. They are written in dark ink and large block letters so that all passing by will stop and read them:
NO FIRE. Flammables, ignition sources, matches, lighters, and anything that creates a spark is prohibited. The atmosphere has higher levels of hydrogen, and the smallest spark will create a problem.
AIR BREATHABILITY. Monitor your vitals. Wear masks or re-breathers if needed.
WATCH THE EDGE. All walkways are the only thing from you and falling. Be cautious and watch your step. These signs should be given their due attention. The edge is just that: the end of where it is safe to walk. If a wooden plank gives way beneath your feet, you will plummet through hundred of miles of atmosphere before hitting the planet’s thin surface. The captains reiterate that crew should be careful and stick to the main temporaries, gather supplies, visit at their leisure, and then go back to the ship.
☄ IT'S A BIRD! IT'S A PLANE!The organisms that have evolved on this planet are unintelligent—a fact that is told to you by the other visitors. As there is no solid materials or ways for them to interact with their environments, these giants float along within the atmosphere, though it appears that they are flying when they are merely navigating through. They travel in groups of three or more and sometimes come close to the outskirts of the temporaries. Because there is an invisible filtration dome around the temporaries, this allows the creatures to pass through without harm and return again into the mist as they please. They are difficult to see at night and are rather skittish in the presence of sudden light.
☄ @ THE MUSEUM Every evening when work is done, artificial light sources illuminate the streets of the temporaries. There is one bar, if you can actually call it that, but the main attraction is a museum. The support structure appears to be made out of the skeletal system of the giants that "swim" and live on Ceta, and though the outside seems rather unassuming, the inside is not for the faint of heart. As it's considered informative, there are displays of the internal structures and functions of the very creatures that seem harmless and as unintelligent as the visitors claim. There are sections of the museum dedicated to their anatomy and what makes them so valuable: inside their air sacs, which is what gives the illusion to flying through the atmosphere, is a mineral that, when harvested, attunes and sharpens the senses so that brain capacity and function excel over one-hundred percent efficiency. Likewise, aside from these informative areas, there is also a history of how and when the visitors began to hunt them for this valuable, unnamed resource.
☄ HARVEST SEASON Are you looking for work? Or perhaps you're bored with your duties aboard the Moira and prefer to see just what it is these visitors do during the day? Hunters will often pay for menial labor to help with the killing and retrieval of the giants of Ceta. It is by day, not by hour, and once aboard one of the many ships, you will be put to work handling equipment or being on the lookout for "signs" of the creatures. Once they've been spotted, the real work isn't in capturing them or even trying to subdue them—though they give a good fight. It's in the harvest, done below deck once they have been safely brought into the ship's cargo areas by the tethers, that can get quite gruesome. As a defense mechanism, cutting into the skin creates a rather noxious emission that can cause disorientation, hallucinations, or unconsciousness. Worst case scenarios can often result in death.
☄ WORD LIMITS As things are beginning to wind up (or down), something seems to have gotten into the MID systems and caused a malfunction. On the morning of 03.13, it suddenly becomes clear that communicating with others who are not from the same universe or similar timelines seems very difficult. Understanding each other becomes rather hopeless as the day continues, and these repercussions can be felt across the entire ship. The Captains send out another MID message that appears as a jumble of unusual letters and symbols. However, there is one word that can be read by everyone and (hopefully) understood: RATCHET. Figuring out this problem shouldn't take long if everyone can leap the language barriers and work together.
( ooc; All New Arrivals: you have the choice of coming through the Moira's Ingress OR Ceta's Ingress. For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-03-01 02:40 pm
no subject
[
In which his own bias is implicit.Says the one often fucking up said negotiations.But that's enough of that. He can brag up Obi-Wan all day, or his own piloting skills, but without the circumstances to prove it, it's become pedantic posturing, and over the last few years, he's learned to dial that back...a little. And so the conversation turns.]
If you don't mind my asking, what do you do back home? [A beat.] ...You know, when you're not being inexplicably kidnapped and held on a ship with no real exit, anyway? [
Ha. Ha.]no subject
Leia doesn't hesitate for more than a moment, though. It's hardly the first time she's had to conceal information, and talking with Obi-Wan has given her a little practice with discussing across time.]
I was a senator for a few years. [With a father like Bail Organa, could she have been anything else?] But these days, I do most of my political work a little more directly.
[With a blaster. She means with a blaster.]
Obi-Wan told me you're fighting the Clone Wars, though--so it'll be a decade or two before that happens.
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[He's not about to take that with the same casual grace that his master may have managed. All it does is bring up that nagging little fact that she looks far too much like his wife, and that this is....
That's not true. That's impossible.]You mean...so the war is over, for you? How--?
[
HA. HA.]no subject
Regardless, he's right. That war, at least, is done.]
Whoever our captors are, they can kidnap people across time as well as space. I'd be impressed if I didn't have better places to be.
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(dubious)role, rather than question the situation...or they simply hadn't had any reason to suspect anything more than a slight anomaly.Obi-Wan knew more than he did, remembered more than he did, but did he have any reason to suspect it went beyond that?
Thinking of the war being over is...strange, to say the least. Ending it had been a theoretical goal, but every time Grievous slipped away, it dragged on longer, and longer, and it feels like he's never known anything but conflict.
The end is like a gaping void, and he doesn't know what to fill it with.]
Come on, the Senate floor can't be that interesting.
[
Unless...It's said with a laugh, and it's a bit of a deflection; he doesn't quite a agree with it either. He'd much rather be back home than anywhere near forced work and lost out in the middle of a galaxy that's entirely unfamiliar. It's easier to not admit.]no subject
[There's no senate to be part of. The words come out a little more bitter than she intends, but at least the sentiment isn't directed at Anakin. It's the Empire's fault that even the veneer of democracy has disappeared, not his.]
And I'm not sure we should be talking about things that haven't happened in your time. [As convenient as it would be to arm him with the information to change the past, she simply doesn't know enough about the past to know which strings to pull and where.]
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unknowing of the state of said Senate). He's never been a fan of politics, and only an illustrious few measure on a pedestal enough for him to pay a large amount of attention to beyond when the "Jedi work for the Republic" and "Senators also work for the Republic" circles overlap in an occasional venn diagram.The Chancellor has for years, Padme hadn't even needed to prove herself to do so,
and Organa doesn't anymore. On Leia, he's still uncertain, still too wrapped up in her appearance where he knows extremely little on her politics in particular.All he can do when she refuses is shrug. He has more to worry about aside, and giving this concession certainly doesn't mean he's giving up on the consideration altogether.]
Of course, Leia. [He's half tempted to push the point, her title as an epithet like he might with--but that proves problematic, and he reins it back in at the last minute. It's too personal, strangely, and she's put the emphasis on her name for a reason, whatever it might be.] Less said about the Senate, the better.
[And on that front, at least, he honestly means that, enough so that it's accompanied with a small laugh.]
Is your policy the same in reverse?
[
Like he wouldn't just "slip up" anyway.HE'S TRYING.]no subject
She'll have to wait and see what the differences between this Skywalker and her Skywalker are. They have plenty of time to get to know each other in greater detail, and that's plenty of time to see who Anakin is besides "a confident Jedi."
At his question, she shakes her head.]
I don't see any harm in hearing about things that happened twenty years ago.
[It's not like either of them are going to be able to change the things Anakin's already faced.]
Actually, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to ask you more about the past. [If not now, someday in the future.] You see, I have a friend from Tatooine. Luke Skywalker.
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secretmarriage when the war eventually ends (and if she's telling the truth, it does eventually).The confusion laced with shock sits apparent in an expression he's never quite learned to school; for all that he represses, his emotions are still fairly plain to anyone else looking in.]
Quite the coincidence.
[No, it isn't. And he knows it.]
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[Anakin's surprise is laid bare on his face, and something inside Leia twists in recognition. She knows so little of this man--and so little still of Luke's family, so twisted up with the losses he suffered before he left Tatooine--but she seems to have hit a nerve.
Quite the coincidence. Except that the way things mount on top of a shared planet, a shared byname--a shared gift, a shared Jedi master--Leia sees not coincidence but pattern.
She's quiet for some moments, trying to decide what will make this conversation easier for her new acquaintance, not harder. Not having it is the first thought that comes to mind, but the bantha's already out of the pen on that point. Besides, she can't leave alone a possible connection that could be taken back to Luke. He's one of her dearest--one of her only--friends. He deserves this much.]
I'd wondered if he might be a relation.
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[And that much, at least, is the truth. Speculation is a wholly different beast from confirmation, and as little as he can logically deny the pattern set in motion here, he has been, until now, completely unaware.
A family-by-marriage still existing on that farm out in the middle of nowhere (on a planet just as much out of the way from any properly civilized world near it) doesn't solve anything: Lars may have loved his mother as much as he let on. Maybe he didn't. But Shmi had taken that man's name, not the other way around.
"Skywalker" has baggage attached. Baggage he can't really blame her, especially after the fact, for being all too willing to leave alone. It's a slave's name, not fit for carrying to a new family
until he changes that himself.It's not a common name either, not as much as he's ever been able to surmise. There is no other explanation that he can fathom. But however logical the assumption is, he can't wholly admit to something he has no memory of, something that hasn't happened yet.
Something that so quickly, so succinctly, puts that entire "foretold destiny" at risk.]
I don't have much family left back there.
[Again, true, but with a back-handed dodge.]
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[It's said with a little nod, mostly to herself. Luke's family was small to begin with, and now it's gone; they'd both lost so much by the time they met. If it was in Anakin's time, too...well, then she's not sure where he'd fit in. Unless he's Luke's--
That must be it. It must. Her stomach drops.
Leia's not sure why she feels such overwhelming certainty, except that who else could he be? Another uncle? Some long-lost cousin once removed? In small families without fathers, there are only so many reasonable places to slot in new faces.
But she has no proof, and Anakin has no idea who Luke is. She can hardly tell him she thinks she managed to figure it out.]
Maybe it's a coincidence. [Which gives them the opportunity to speak of something else.] What do you think of the Moira so far?
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[Bitter? Oh, he'd never. But that urge to get back home and find answers to all of these newly posed questions is suddenly stronger than it already had been.]
I've been stuck on worse space-born pieces of junk.
[The shrug he offers then is significantly frustrated. That, at least, isn't anything but truth. It's not unlike being grounded on a land-locked planet, except here, they're not quite sure where they even are.]
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[But they're probably better off talking about the ship than the circumstances.]
I've never seen a ship quite like it. Wherever they come from, it's nowhere near home.
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[Honestly, in the right situation, with the right people, he wouldn't even be against the idea of the former. But this is neither the right situation, nor--for all that Leia's presence still pulls at him--the right people.
He grimaces, but moves right along with her. She has the right idea, and it is best to not dwell.]
Well, that's certainly true. [He'd have less of an awkward time sharing quarters were that true; he could rationalize keeping himself on deck, where it's familiar, even if he's not the one piloting.] Still bet I could fly this thing blindfolded.
[No, he couldn't, but with it, that dour expression is completely vanished, as if he hadn't had that momentary lapse into the back of his mind at all.]
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[Dryly. The Moira is essentially a prison barge, but it doesn't feel like any prison she's ever been in. Compared to Vader's Star Destroyer or the Death Star, it has the facade of a pleasure voyage: decent food, green space, no one torturing information out of a person.]
Really? [There's a light in Leia's eyes, a little bit scheming.] You want to put that to the test sometime?
[If they could get the Moira off-course...if they could commit some kind of mutiny...well, they'd need a pilot as well as a plan. Preferably multiple pilots--Han and Anakin to start.]