Receiving my initiating orders, Nathaniel and I departed from the huddle, approaching the cargo bay aft of the shuttle. A nagging thought drew into my consciousness, and before we began stocking our body armor with the necessary instruments, I motioned to Nathaniel, “One second.”
I called out swiftly to Jiren and Arrix, “Gash! We should keep our comlinks stationed to a secure command frequency. Nathaniel will be monitoring channel four. If we need to converse, contact us there. I’ll monitor the stationary frequency the cadets are using. I suggest sir, for security measures, your party follow a similar protocol. Gash simply glanced in my direction, nodding.
Returning the nod, I hustled aft, where Nathaniel was already unloading a swoop from the spacious cargo hatch. With easy guiding reflexes. I could sense the tendrils of Force latched on the swoops hull, my eyes transfixed on the sleek machine as Nathan gracefully cohered it on the deck with a dull thud.
I marveled, and glanced at the last remaining swoop. With an out stretched hand reaching for the swoop, I displaced all my attention, focus, and concentration on the task at retrieving the swoop from the hold. I pictured the swoop, the Force consuming all matter, the finished plating, the deck, the durasteel, the particles of elements existing between the swoop and myself. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Nothing.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->
Not a budge, nor rattle. Absolute silence in the essence of the Force. I strained under the emotions of my initial failure. I applied myself further, feeling for an essence to yank the swoop from the icy prison of my inability. My efforts to no avail.
Gathering some dignity, I stepped into the hold and used the swoops repulsorlift system to glide it to the deck. Unlatching a side compartment within, light poured in on an array of highly restricted weaponry. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Not all is lost.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Throwing a wry nod, I strapped a Merr-Sonn Munitions GX-17 AutoCocker rifle to my shoulder harness, securing the fitting. Removing three fragmentation grenades from the hold, they were next to be firmly secured to the fastening pins to my armored waist belt.
Stepping from the hold, I could feel the small tendrils of someone’s mind piercing mine. I turned to see Nathaniel staring towards me, offering a worm friendly smile.
“We have all our own strengths and weakness Kyp.”
I nodded towards him ignoring his attempts to comfort me in my failure. Stepping aboard the swoop, the engine purred gently under the airflow v4ents, my hands throttling the accelerate levers. An urge came to me, one of guilt and contempt for myself in my ill treatment to Nathaniel. Glancing towards the Jedi, my reply drowned out the engines exhaust.
“Perhaps. And perhaps, Nathan, we’ll learn a few things from one another during this journey.”
The wind caressing our faces, lashing against our sides, we simultaneously hit the acceleration levers throttling the swoops onward, leaving a trail of dust to reside in our wakes.
I called out swiftly to Jiren and Arrix, “Gash! We should keep our comlinks stationed to a secure command frequency. Nathaniel will be monitoring channel four. If we need to converse, contact us there. I’ll monitor the stationary frequency the cadets are using. I suggest sir, for security measures, your party follow a similar protocol. Gash simply glanced in my direction, nodding.
Returning the nod, I hustled aft, where Nathaniel was already unloading a swoop from the spacious cargo hatch. With easy guiding reflexes. I could sense the tendrils of Force latched on the swoops hull, my eyes transfixed on the sleek machine as Nathan gracefully cohered it on the deck with a dull thud.
I marveled, and glanced at the last remaining swoop. With an out stretched hand reaching for the swoop, I displaced all my attention, focus, and concentration on the task at retrieving the swoop from the hold. I pictured the swoop, the Force consuming all matter, the finished plating, the deck, the durasteel, the particles of elements existing between the swoop and myself. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Nothing.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->
Not a budge, nor rattle. Absolute silence in the essence of the Force. I strained under the emotions of my initial failure. I applied myself further, feeling for an essence to yank the swoop from the icy prison of my inability. My efforts to no avail.
Gathering some dignity, I stepped into the hold and used the swoops repulsorlift system to glide it to the deck. Unlatching a side compartment within, light poured in on an array of highly restricted weaponry. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Not all is lost.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Throwing a wry nod, I strapped a Merr-Sonn Munitions GX-17 AutoCocker rifle to my shoulder harness, securing the fitting. Removing three fragmentation grenades from the hold, they were next to be firmly secured to the fastening pins to my armored waist belt.
Stepping from the hold, I could feel the small tendrils of someone’s mind piercing mine. I turned to see Nathaniel staring towards me, offering a worm friendly smile.
“We have all our own strengths and weakness Kyp.”
I nodded towards him ignoring his attempts to comfort me in my failure. Stepping aboard the swoop, the engine purred gently under the airflow v4ents, my hands throttling the accelerate levers. An urge came to me, one of guilt and contempt for myself in my ill treatment to Nathaniel. Glancing towards the Jedi, my reply drowned out the engines exhaust.
“Perhaps. And perhaps, Nathan, we’ll learn a few things from one another during this journey.”
The wind caressing our faces, lashing against our sides, we simultaneously hit the acceleration levers throttling the swoops onward, leaving a trail of dust to reside in our wakes.
