Kanan Jarrus, The Last Padawan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
uncertain_dume) wrote2016-05-06 08:53 pm
uncertain_dume) wrote2016-05-06 08:53 pm
From the Inner Rim of a Galaxy Far, Far Away to... Somewhere Above Fandom, Friday Night
Cynda. As long as Kanan Jarrus had been around, he'd never really spent time anywhere quite like Cynda. What Gorse, Cynda's parent planet, lacked in appeal, Cynda, Gorse's moon, made up for in spades. Gorse, after all, had a reputation as perhaps the ugliest planet in the galaxy; one part perpetual, sun-baked desert and one part eternal, industrial night. Cynda, meanwhile, was a shining silver, with a lustre the likes of which Kanan had rarely ever seen on his travels across the galaxy.
It was also the Empire's major source of thorilide, a substance used in the building of turbolaser cannons, which was the real reason he was here. Not because he had any particular interest in the Empire, no. Kanan would be just as happy to have them out of his life entirely, though he'd settle for keeping his head down and just avoiding their notice. Hell, he didn't have much of an interest in turbolaser cannons either just so long as they were being pointed away from him. But a man had to work in order to live, after all, and every day Kanan made his way from Gorse to Cynda, hauling a load of explosive-grade baradium bisulfate for the miners working in the crystalline caverns underground.
If Kanan had been the sort to settle down, maybe he'd even be happy doing this for the rest of his life; spending his days underground and his nights in Okadiah's cantina, the Asteroid Belt, serving as many drinks as he drank himself and starting about as many fights as he ended. But he wasn't. Sooner or later, Cynda's charms would wear off, or he'd get a little too close to trouble for comfort, or maybe he'd just get bored, and it would be time to move on. He'd been here, working for Moonglow Polychemical, for almost too long as it was. People were starting to know his face.
Today was one of those days where the traffic was lighter but the trip was longer, thanks to Cynda's elliptical orbit around Gorse. There were only a few other freighters flying anywhere near the Expedient, Kanan's pet name for the freighter he'd been handed along with the job, officially known as the Moonglow-72. The company went through so many of these things given the dangerous nature of the load that was being hauled that they didn't bother with the fancy names, or, really, the fancy anything. In turn, Kanan didn't bother thinking about how many ships between one and seventy-one were still running in Moonglow's fleet. He just worried about getting his job done, hauling his load of Baby - the Suicide Flyers' pet name for the baradium - down to the moon. Easy. Dangerous enough to keep it interesting for a man who rarely found a challenge in everyday work. But easy.
So easy that when the space in front of the Expedient seemed to tear itself open, he actually needed a moment to kick his brain back into gear. And when that hole started to pull him in, he was somewhat at a loss for what to do about it. Try to pull away, obviously, but Moonglow's freighters were nothing special. Hell, they weren't even anything decent, and the ship barely had enough power to escape Gorse's atmosphere every morning, never mind... whatever this was. The thrusters were already giving him their all, and still he was being dragged toward the hole, slow at first, then faster, picking up speed until, in a flash of light...
Well.
Once the ship came to a stop again, there was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, until its lone inhabitant let himself take a breath or two in order to affirm that he hadn't just died some horrible crushing death back there. After all, Kanan really hadn't been expecting to survive that... whatever that was. A cheap thrill and a blinding flash of light being the worst he got out of the ordeal was almost a pleasant surprise. Still, it couldn't be that easy, could it? Kanan blinked the spots of light from his eyes before turning to stare out the window at what was sitting there down below him, the tear that had pulled him through sealing itself up again in his wake. What he saw wasn't the steaming ball of mud that was the planet Gorse, and wasn't the glimmering, crystalline moon, Cynda. What was down below was no planet he'd ever seen before, and the Expedient's scanners were at a loss to figure out where they were at all.
This was definitely not the Inner Rim.
"You know," Kanan sighed, running a few scans to see if the atmosphere of the planet below them was at the very least breathable before steering downward in search of somewhere to land, "this wouldn't have happened if I'd been flying the Escape."
The Expedient got her revenge for that little comment by hitting some turbulence on the way down, for good measure. Because of course Kanan's day was going to involve flying a load of explosives through turbulence toward an uncharted planet. Of course.
[OOC: More establishy goodness, brought to you from a galaxy nowhere near you! NFI and NFB, because Kanan's current ship isn't a comfortable one to stow away on.]
It was also the Empire's major source of thorilide, a substance used in the building of turbolaser cannons, which was the real reason he was here. Not because he had any particular interest in the Empire, no. Kanan would be just as happy to have them out of his life entirely, though he'd settle for keeping his head down and just avoiding their notice. Hell, he didn't have much of an interest in turbolaser cannons either just so long as they were being pointed away from him. But a man had to work in order to live, after all, and every day Kanan made his way from Gorse to Cynda, hauling a load of explosive-grade baradium bisulfate for the miners working in the crystalline caverns underground.
If Kanan had been the sort to settle down, maybe he'd even be happy doing this for the rest of his life; spending his days underground and his nights in Okadiah's cantina, the Asteroid Belt, serving as many drinks as he drank himself and starting about as many fights as he ended. But he wasn't. Sooner or later, Cynda's charms would wear off, or he'd get a little too close to trouble for comfort, or maybe he'd just get bored, and it would be time to move on. He'd been here, working for Moonglow Polychemical, for almost too long as it was. People were starting to know his face.
Today was one of those days where the traffic was lighter but the trip was longer, thanks to Cynda's elliptical orbit around Gorse. There were only a few other freighters flying anywhere near the Expedient, Kanan's pet name for the freighter he'd been handed along with the job, officially known as the Moonglow-72. The company went through so many of these things given the dangerous nature of the load that was being hauled that they didn't bother with the fancy names, or, really, the fancy anything. In turn, Kanan didn't bother thinking about how many ships between one and seventy-one were still running in Moonglow's fleet. He just worried about getting his job done, hauling his load of Baby - the Suicide Flyers' pet name for the baradium - down to the moon. Easy. Dangerous enough to keep it interesting for a man who rarely found a challenge in everyday work. But easy.
So easy that when the space in front of the Expedient seemed to tear itself open, he actually needed a moment to kick his brain back into gear. And when that hole started to pull him in, he was somewhat at a loss for what to do about it. Try to pull away, obviously, but Moonglow's freighters were nothing special. Hell, they weren't even anything decent, and the ship barely had enough power to escape Gorse's atmosphere every morning, never mind... whatever this was. The thrusters were already giving him their all, and still he was being dragged toward the hole, slow at first, then faster, picking up speed until, in a flash of light...
Well.
Once the ship came to a stop again, there was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, until its lone inhabitant let himself take a breath or two in order to affirm that he hadn't just died some horrible crushing death back there. After all, Kanan really hadn't been expecting to survive that... whatever that was. A cheap thrill and a blinding flash of light being the worst he got out of the ordeal was almost a pleasant surprise. Still, it couldn't be that easy, could it? Kanan blinked the spots of light from his eyes before turning to stare out the window at what was sitting there down below him, the tear that had pulled him through sealing itself up again in his wake. What he saw wasn't the steaming ball of mud that was the planet Gorse, and wasn't the glimmering, crystalline moon, Cynda. What was down below was no planet he'd ever seen before, and the Expedient's scanners were at a loss to figure out where they were at all.
This was definitely not the Inner Rim.
"You know," Kanan sighed, running a few scans to see if the atmosphere of the planet below them was at the very least breathable before steering downward in search of somewhere to land, "this wouldn't have happened if I'd been flying the Escape."
The Expedient got her revenge for that little comment by hitting some turbulence on the way down, for good measure. Because of course Kanan's day was going to involve flying a load of explosives through turbulence toward an uncharted planet. Of course.
[OOC: More establishy goodness, brought to you from a galaxy nowhere near you! NFI and NFB, because Kanan's current ship isn't a comfortable one to stow away on.]