It had been an incredibly boring two months. Xandri didn't like being stuck anywhere, much less the Phoenix Ascension, the boss's former pet project and current "fuck subtlety" button. It had been...what, seven years since they'd picked it up? Xandri couldn't remember. All he could remember was that this ship had nearly killed him and everyone who had scouted it and subsequently repaired it. Xandri had ended up in the surgical ward after their first expedition into the former derelict got violent when psychic zombie ghosts decided to pick a fight. Xandri met the challenge and got the right half of his body torn up for the trouble. The ship had always given him a bad vibe since.

      He'd tried to keep his mind off things by hanging around the quartermaster's office, inspecting the weapons and equipment for the troops, maintaining them, repairing them, making sure they were all up to snuff for...whatever the hell was down there. That was it. No one knew what was down there. Yeah, everyone had theories. All evidence pointed to the site where the eggheads were digging up being the main one, where all the big stuff went down. That's what seemed to be bothering everyone.

     Already they'd found bewilderingly complex droid parts or cybernetics, advanced armor, a miniature fusion reactor, and a warehouse full of excised organs, still alive and preserved after almost four thousand years in suspension tanks, some natural, some sporting some sort of augmentations they still hadn't figured out. The contents of that warehouse put Kor on the verge of vomiting onto the report he'd been handed with them. It would've been funny if thousands upon thousands of organs in tanks hadn't been more than mildly disturbing. At least the organs were in separate tanks. 

    There were entire tubs of severed limbs with no discernible rhyme or reason as to which types of limbs went in which tubs. And somehow, that was not the star on top of the crimes against humanity tree. Whatever they were about to dig up was going to blow a serial killer's wet dream out of the water. Or at least that's how everyone was acting.

    So, it really didn't come as a surprise when everyone was booking it to the landing craft when the PA clicked on without bothering to wait for the actual order to book it to the landing craft. Xandri secured the rifle he'd been working on to the front of his equipment harness, locked the weapon crate he'd taken it from, hoisted it off the ground with some telekinesis, and dragged it behind him as he took off towards the landing bay. He was a thunder of boots as he sprinted full-bore up the ramp of the last shuttle, jumping up to land on top of the weapon crate as it slid underneath him and cruised up into the cabin under its remaining momentum.

    "All aboard, we're out of here," the pilot jawed out impassively as the loading ramp began retracting for takeoff. Xandri was hardly in his seat and buckled up when he felt the craft start to lift off its landing skids and pull forward out of its parking stall.

     "Nice moves, gearhead," drawled the Legionnaire sitting across from Xandri. The guy couldn't have been more than twenty-two. The boss trained 'em young, so it probably wasn't the guy's first rodeo, but he still hadn't quite lost that teenage assumption of immortality. Are you some sort of super-soldier we don't know about?"

   "Nah," Xandri responded, mimicking the kid's tone and voice. He needed his feathers ruffled so he didn't think he was such hot shit. "All in good fun," of course. Hearing his own voice parroted back to him seemed to get through, so Xandri kept it up. "Just a guy with a very particular set of skills, skills I've acquired over a very long and storied career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you."

   The kid thrust out his jaw to meet the challenge. "Yeah, like what? What's tech specialist going to do against anyone in the Legion?"

   Xandri watched the kid absently pat his rifle in classic shovelhead fashion. He locked his eyes on it, raised his eyebrows once, and, with an effort of will, forced a power surge into the weapon's control circuitry. The body of the rifle gave off a brief flash, shorter than an eyeblink before blue smoke began filtering out of the cooling vents. The control circuit wasn't very big, so the smoke wasn't really going to start stinking up the cabin, but it was enough to make the kid jump as high as his safety harness would let him.

   "Now Xandri," came a voice from further down the row of bucket seats the kid was in. "Cut Corporal Mikhailovich some slack. He's still itchy about missing Barpine."

    "Irza. Still with us, are you?"

    The old Zabrak clicked on the reading light above his head. "You can't get rid of me that easily. And you," Irza turned to look at the Corporal. You oughta learn to recognize the chiefs of staff. That 'gearhead' is Xandri van Sivent, the guy who keeps your gear as good as it is. You're lucky he just fried your rifle. He could've wasted your armor without the benefit of theatrics to let you know it happened."

    "Yes, sir," the Corporal answered.

     While the Corporal was saluting, Xandri reached out and tugged at the kid's disabled rifle, which shot across the aisle and landed squarely in Xandri's outstretched hand. The Corporal tried to snatch it back but reacted a half second too late, and it was already beyond grasp before he could make a second grab. Xandri unhooked the rifle he'd been working on earlier from the front of his harness and tossed it to the Corporal, who caught it, inspected it, and satisfied, settled it in his lap.

      Xandri pulled his tool case out of a Velcro pouch strapped to his equipment harness, using the set to crack open the Corporal's rifle and set to work repairing it. Irza had been right about the theatrics. Xandri had deliberately blown a resistor with enough energy to set it on fire, at least for a moment. The insulated wrapping had blackened and melted, but other than that the rifle was undamaged. Fixing it was just a matter of clipping the old resistor out, soldering a new one in, and letting everything rest. He still wasn't going to give it back to the Corporal, not until Xandri had had a chance to test it, but it wasn't going to take the two hours or however long the trip down to the site was to do.

      Xandri got the sense the Corporal was watching him while he worked, though the kid didn't speak until after Xandri started screwing the control circuit back into place about fifteen minutes later.

     "That gun was smoking. How'd you do that so fast?" Mikhailovich asked in wide-eyed amazement.

    "I'm an arms dealer, kid," Xandri told him dispassionately, closing the rifle. "It's my job to know guns. Like this one. It hasn't been fired in three weeks. You have been skipping out on range time, Corporal?"

    "I, uh," stuttered the Corporal. The rest of the passengers let out a synchronous "Ooooh," like a bunch of schoolchildren. Irza just leveled a gaze at the kid like a disapproving father. Xandri could tell it was a very practiced expression. "Yes, sir."

     Xandri looked up from putting a bright red trigger lock onto the rifle and turned to Irza. "He going to be a problem, Irza?"

    "Not if I station him up top," Irza answered, not taking his eyes off the Corporal.

    "Nah, take him down with us," Xandri suggested, trying to funnel as much implication of horror and danger into his voice as he could. "He's never going learn the importance of marksmanship standing around with his hand in his pants."

    Xandri's earlier demonstration had startled the kid, but now Xandri could see a little bit of color drain from Mikhailovich's face as the young soldier gave a visible but silent gulp. "Y-yes, sir."

     That wasn't the reaction Xandri had been expecting. Either Mikhailovich's bravado was a lot shallower than Xandri had originally surmised, or the kid had gotten some spooky stories about these facilities in his head; perhaps he'd been one of the guys offloading the organs and limbs from the last ruin. Or maybe Xandri had just unnerved the guy that much. Truth be told, he wasn't trying to make the guy uncomfortable; he just bumped him down a peg and made him realize there were bigger fish in the pond.

    Kiani had boarded the shuttle gracefully wearing her newly designed battle armor. The Legionnaires already aboard eyed her with a mix of admiration and awe. Her battle armor was based on their design but more suited to Dantari's varied skill sets. She sat down near the entrance and strapped in.

   This would mark her first active mission with Tave Drajunas. So, she set a mental checklist in place: Lightsabers, check. Blasters, check. Gear bag with medical supplies, tactical rigs, datapad, and foodstuffs, stowed and checked. Kiani glanced around the shuttle. The general mood was calm and disciplined right up to the moment Xandri Van Silvent entered a whirl of chaos.

   Kiani giggled at the interaction between a young Legionnaire and Xandri. The man was the main force behind her new armor and blasters. He was considered the techno-wizard involved in most of the armor and weapons the Tave Drajunas have.

   " So, you're the new heavy-hitting Force user? " a silver-haired Zabrak said to her with a smile.

  " Yes. Kiani," she replied offering her hand.

   " Well met, Kiani. I'm Davion Solusin. I hope you're not overly concerned about the mission. " He said as he shook her hand.

   " I'm not. It's just been a while since I've set foot planet side on any planet. " She said with a smirk. 

     "Atmospheric contact," the pilot announced over the cabin PA moments before the landing craft bucked sharply upon bumping into something with actual mass. Everyone grabbed hold of their safety harnesses to steady themselves for the bumpy ride down to the dig site, Xandri following suit after he finished securing the Corporal's rifle. He looked over and saw the Corporal's fingers digging into the upholstered padding of his harness a bit deeper than everyone else's.

"ETA: one hour."