Post by Darth Niamh on Nov 22, 2015 18:53:06 GMT
The trooper gave no response to Sora's question. He or she didn't even look at him. Thus began what seemed to be an endless period of boredom. By the time Sora awoke, they were still in hyperspace. Several of the troopers walked about, having undone their harnesses to stretch their legs. Sora's harness, however, was stuck where it was. The only times he was allowed up was to go to the refresher, and during such periods, Darth Niamh herself left the cockpit, lightsaber in hand, and every single trooper there trained their weapons on him, meaning he was staring down the barrels of roughly twenty blasters each time.
Sora had no idea how long it had been since Hoth. He'd fallen asleep several times, and around him, he sometimes saw troopers napping in their harnesses. Once or twice, he even saw Niamh snoozing. She'd changed out of her officer's outfit by then, replacing it with a much more casual getup consisting of dark brown pants, a matching shirt, and a long, white jacket, longer on one side than the other, and sporting a few other asymmetrical design elements. It was a strange sight-- while she was sleeping, she could have been a completely normal young woman. At least, until Sora noticed the body-pillow she was using was quite obviously designed to look like Darth Vader, while the plush-toy under her arm was clearly General Grievous, two of the most infamous Jedi-killers of all time.
Apparently, even in her sleep she never stopped being a Sith.
Eventually, however, he felt a distinct jerking motion that alerted him to the shuttle dropping out of hyperspace. "My lady," one of the troopers murmured softly, shaking her gently. "We've arrived."
"Mmm..." she waved him off, but reluctantly pushed herself up to her hands and knees. As she yawned, she stretched out like a cat briefly, before pushing herself to her feet. "Morning, all," she said to no one in particular. She was met by a chorus of salutations from the troopers, at which she gave what was either a half-hearted smile or a grimace, before entering the cockpit again, taking her fluffy murderer memorabilia with her.
After maybe a half an hour, he could feel a small thunk as the shuttle touched down, and the command crew exited the cockpit. "Alright, Solo, let's get a move-on," Darth Niamh told him, flicking her wrist. His harness snapped open, and blasters were trained on him immediately. "Down the ramp with you."
Sora had no idea how long it had been since Hoth. He'd fallen asleep several times, and around him, he sometimes saw troopers napping in their harnesses. Once or twice, he even saw Niamh snoozing. She'd changed out of her officer's outfit by then, replacing it with a much more casual getup consisting of dark brown pants, a matching shirt, and a long, white jacket, longer on one side than the other, and sporting a few other asymmetrical design elements. It was a strange sight-- while she was sleeping, she could have been a completely normal young woman. At least, until Sora noticed the body-pillow she was using was quite obviously designed to look like Darth Vader, while the plush-toy under her arm was clearly General Grievous, two of the most infamous Jedi-killers of all time.
Apparently, even in her sleep she never stopped being a Sith.
Eventually, however, he felt a distinct jerking motion that alerted him to the shuttle dropping out of hyperspace. "My lady," one of the troopers murmured softly, shaking her gently. "We've arrived."
"Mmm..." she waved him off, but reluctantly pushed herself up to her hands and knees. As she yawned, she stretched out like a cat briefly, before pushing herself to her feet. "Morning, all," she said to no one in particular. She was met by a chorus of salutations from the troopers, at which she gave what was either a half-hearted smile or a grimace, before entering the cockpit again, taking her fluffy murderer memorabilia with her.
After maybe a half an hour, he could feel a small thunk as the shuttle touched down, and the command crew exited the cockpit. "Alright, Solo, let's get a move-on," Darth Niamh told him, flicking her wrist. His harness snapped open, and blasters were trained on him immediately. "Down the ramp with you."