In the span of a few weeks, the generally spacious quarters of a Sentinel shuttle grew rather confined. The familiar mingled pungent aromas of a couple dozen long unwashed human and alien bodies filled the cabins. It had been twenty-two days since the expedition had ventured in to the Cloak of the Sith. Sixteen days since last established contact with their mothership, the Harbinger, who anxiously waited safely outside the treacherous astrological barrier. Ten days since being nearly swallowed by a strange massive space dwelling creature and two days since being caught in a lethal cosmic meteor shower, in total cutting their party to less than half strength.
Now, a single shuttle and a pair of Starviper fighter escorts trudged nervously along through the Cloak. Still no sign of the planet Roon and running low on every resource from water to resolve.
Aboard the lead ship, a meager Szymon slumped in a co-pilots chair while the ship's Duros captain plodded along, he needed little nourishment or comfort to sustain and by now was the most alert of the party, along with his few present like-raced brethren. The vast chaotic stellar rift, the Cloak, unfolded around them and filled the windows. They jogged slowly along through a dust field, outlying clusters of asteroids and plasma storm generating clouds at a safe distance for the moment. At a control pod behind the forward operators, a beleaguered Twi'lek repeatedly attempted to hail.. at this point? anyone, as was the routine every fifteen minutes or so for the last two weeks,
"General Distress, Gwardia Flight Sigma to H-A-F Zero One, Over.." *SSSSHHHHHHH* radio silence. "Gwardia Flight Sigma to Roon, Mayday Mayday, Beacon Request, Over.." *SHHHHHHH* more radio silence. "Gwardia Flight Sigma, anybody out th..," his droning was abruptly cut off by a return transmission,
"Pi--ing you Sig--. -- Roon out," a faint static riddled voice answered, followed by a soft sensor ping that echoed through the compartment, a relieving sound of joy for the cockpits occupants. The Twi'lek's eyes opened brightly as his gauntlet of sharply pointed teeth lined his wide smile as he turned to his comrades. The Duros was chuckling a merry blather while Szymon at first peeked only an eye open to peer around and ensure it not a hallucination before jumping to life,
"Sensors?" he turned to a human controller behind him. The young man's bright expression was cast in further luminance from the glow of his display panel, "Contact my Lord! It's light but I've got a lock on it, two hours out!" he answered. "Set course Captain! I'll ready the crew," Szymon instructed and exited the command quarters. .