>>5509512>>5509609>>5509624>>5509636>>5509639>>5509696>>5509819>>5509916>>5510088>>5510092>>The transportation hub.The atmosphere isn’t so thin that you need a full EVA suit for survival. A simple rebreather would do to keep the dust of ages from entering anyone’s lungs. But the speed of your trip necessitates goggles, and a jacket to keep the wind from lashing at your skin. It’s been a long while since your last speeder bike ride, but the muscle memories of how to operate them lies dormant, and responds eagerly with your movements.
The landfill and the desolate, pockmarked landscape of the wastelands recedes into a blur as you accelerate the speeder bike to a little faster than safe. Some primal, bestial part of yourself whoops and hollers, and the sound of your heartbeat fills your ears. Nowhere and everywhere to go at once, but upon a vehicle far more intimately controlled by its rider than a spaceship or a starfighter could afford.
It is almost enough to make the dread of facing Vader recede into the background.
So passes half an hour of weaving through the wastes, confounding your trail around the ancient ruins of the Old Republic and landfills that had outlived the industries that dug them. Your sojourn takes you towards Kessendra, Kessel’s largest (if not the only) settlement or any of its satellite districts of prisons and miner shanties. The treads and tracks of vehicles transporting miners across the planets’ sands become more frequent, then cedes to compacted dirt as you reach the outskirts of the city.
The speeder bike is easily hidden, tucked away behind a pile of crates with several inches of undisturbed dust. You breathe in deep, expelling both the thrill of the ride and any lingering anxiety.
From your belt, you produce a grappling line, and a bundle of high-tension wire. The Force guides your hand, and you throw the hook far beyond what human strength could accomplish, and towards the rusted grate of a dilapidated air purifier.
CLANG! The noise almost seems to vanish into the cacophony of industry and the howling wind that blows across the planet. Securing the line to your belt, you run towards and up the wall, leaping from one handhold to another. Within a handful of moments, you make it to the grate, and slash it open with a flourish of your lightsaber.
Slipping into the duct, you catch your breath, then travel deeper into Kessendra proper. It takes little time for you to reach a junction, then an exit out of the shaft into an abandoned control room. Sealing it behind you, you pull your goggles off and spit out your rebreather, taking deep gulps of (relatively) clean, non-recycled air.
Leaning against the wall, you pause to collect your thoughts. The transmission intercepted by the Empire included names of those invited for the conclave. Disregarding the impossibility of Obi-wan Kenobi’s presence, there are eight Jedi to be in total attendance.
(cont.)
