“Unnnh,” he moaned, and as his boot finally gained purchase on the deck. He was then able to easily lift ShaRhylla from his chest with one arm and he rolled to his side. His eyes went slowly to the screen, then widened in shock. He sat for a second as panic worked its magic, then he yelled loudly as he tried again to ride to his feet. He stumbled, then crawled the few feet back to the controls.

He slammed his hand onto the control to re-engage the automatic orbit stabilization system. He waited for the response but the ship continued to plummet. The ship was already close enough to obscure the outline of the planet, filling the viewscreen with a green and brown blur.

Again Panthar yelled out loud, but the panic served him this time. His hands seemed to fly across the controls, hitting what he hoped was the right sequence. Even as he worked the board he suddenly found himself wishing Shayla was here. He was a good pilot, but she was better.

But his powerful hands now gripped the manual flight controls. The ship had entered the atmosphere and was still spinning. With another yell he pulled back on the stick with one hand and hit the thrusters with the other, and after what seemed like an eternity the ship finally lurched, spun, and rolled upright.

The ship slowed, but not enough. It hit the tree canopy and smashed through three kilometers of the giants before slowing enough for Panthar to gain some sort of control. Eyes wide as a distant hillside drew quickly near, he lay the ship down to come to a sliding stop in the grassy carpet of the jungle.

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He felt a body thump against his back and he rolled to a sitting position. Rykounagin lay motionless next to him – breathing but unconscious. He glanced over to ShaRhylla, who was picking herself from the floor as well. A wild, strange look in her eye made it clear she had enjoyed the ride abundantly.

Phalomir placed his hand on Rykounagin’s chest and stretched out with his Sith magic. He felt no serious injuries, but he was no expert in the matter and hoped his limited knowledge of such things would prove correct.

“Rykounagin has been knocked out,” he called out to ShaRhylla. “I believe he will be fine but for right now you should…”

He trailed off when he realized she was not listening. She had moved to Panthar and draped herself around his shoulder, apparently hunting for something on the control panel. The door controls, he assumed. Fortunately, the control for this door was on the door itself.

“There will be t’ukata,” he said. “Most will recognize my connection to them, but there are some wild clans that have lost their touch with the Temple. Be prepared.”

Phalomir stood shakily and walked closer.

“How is Panthar?” he asked.

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"Yess-ss-sss..." the sibilant whisper crept from her lips and into his ear. Then the ground was met, and all hell broke loose as her ears filled with the sounds of Panthar's screams, of various and assorted thuds and crashes as all aboard were flung willy-nilly, and at last by those even more terrible and lethal ones as in coming to rest the hull finally gave way with the sound of metal tearing.

Then, incongruously, all was silent.

For a moment...

She opened her eyes, blinking against the light now coming in through an opening that moments earlier hadn't been there, frowing a little in confusion to find herself far and away from Panther's side. But she didn't let her disorientatin deter her long; with a suddenness that belied what she had just gone through she was on her feet, at Panther's shoulder again, pushing brusquely past his shocked and stunned form to pat about the obviously non-responsive control panel.

Behind her, buzzing noises spoke to her of somebody speaking.

She ignored it but continued actively seeking, looking here, patting there. Then the proverbial lightbulb flashed on in her mind, and she whirled, her vision flickering briefly upon the solid form of Phalomir who was bending over that of her betrothed, only to move on to the corridor beyond where she knew lay the hatch.

More buzzing noises announced somethng about Rykounagin--?

She didn't care, it wasn't important at the moment. What was sent her rushing suddenly to the back of the control center, away from the shell-shocked Panthar and past the buzzing Phalomir, out into the corridor beyond and to the hatch she knew was there.

Final, buzzing noises in her wake finally resolved themselves into words.

"...tuk'ata..."

"Yes, I know..."

Her eyes filled with a wildfire born of something insurmountable that was singing in her blood, she wrenched the hatch open and fled into the gloom of the surrounding wilderness, letting her feet carry her a few hundred meters until she took to the trees, there moving as quiet as a mouse, instinctively seeking out yet most assuredly seeking herself to not be discovered.

Not by anybody, or any...

Thing.

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"Lead on..."

She trailed, but only for a moment.

"...Your Darkness. Unless of course you want your hand to be tended to properly before you rejoin your minions," she then added, tilting her head slightly as an altogether unreadable little smile fell on her face.

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“Panthar, I--”

Phalomir’s sentence was cut short as the sound of the opening hatch resounded from the back of the ship. A moment passed as Phalomir stared back into the hall, then he bit his lower lip and rose. Patting Panthar on the shoulder, he turned for the back of the ship.

“Take an inventory of the damages, old friend,” he said. “I will see what our impetuous heiress is up to.”

Grabbing a com link from the wall, he jogged to the open hatch and paused. Shaking his head he took in a deep calming breath and made his exit.

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“I’d almost forgotten,” he said. “Strange how such a small wound can appear so serious, and yet be so simple to repair.”

He held his severed hand in his good one, then pressed it against the black oozing wrist. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. A strange, thick slurping sound came wafting to Shayla as the seam between the hand and wrist at first dripped a black tar, then solidified.

The Dark One opened his eyes and smiled at Shayla. He walked to the hatch controls and pressed a button, the door then slid open. A hiss announced the exchange of the interior air and the outside atmosphere, and an odor reminiscent of hazelnut made its way into the cabin.

Phalomir walked out of the ship and turned, holding his now functioning hand out to Shayla.

Days in which she had accepted the hand of another to step out into the unknown, trusting him to trust her...

...and only to in turn have her judgement and motives questioned whether he would ever admit it or not.

And now, here again, she was being presented a choice to take the hand offered or back away, in doing so or not once more trusting that yet another would in turn trust her regardless of the appearance of her actions.

But in that moment, a lightning bolt of realization finally struck Shayla.

It mattered not who trusted her or not, nor did it matter how her actions appeared to anyone. They were what they were...

...and she needed only to be able to trust herself.

Without a word, Shayla let her greeny-blue eyes meet Phalomir's as she accepted his proffered hand, allowing him to lead her out into the unknown beyond...

...both without and within her very being.

(((OCC: Follow Shayla and the Darkness into The Hands that Rock the Cradle in this same forum.))

[ 11-14-2010 01:05 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

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