"No metaphors, no hyperbole, you're one hundred percent serious?" Corina asked awestruck leaning forward in her copilot's chair.

Still loitering in high orbit above Jedha, the Stratocaster was about to complete its second lazy lap around the desert moon. Yes, Gene had calmed himself down since his illicit discovery. Yes, he may have a chance to see his wife. And also, yes, he was going to be more cautious diving deeper into this mess of a job. Despite all that, he owed his friend the truth. It was hard to swallow, but Gene had in fact substantially changed. The difference between him and Corina was that he had been granted time to come to terms with his soul being crammed into a robotic shell.

Corina just found out.

Gene was trying to read her face with little success without the aid of his Third Sight. He wanted to process her reaction on his own terms. Of course, that concept was still a bit muddled considering that his mind was mostly if not all hardware and processors the likes of which he didn't fully comprehend. Gene simply wanted a quiet moment between himself and Corina without any running digital commentary.

"I know," Gene breathed out, "It's a lot."

"A lot of bullshit, yeah, I agree," Corina said scratching her head.

Gene blinked. Seriously, she didn't believe him?

"Corina, I admit and apologize for withholding the truth from you, but I am not lying to you now. My body was destroyed. Libra brought me back. All I want to do now is get back to my wife." Gene tried to remain calm. Ordinarily he'd be patient enough to share his experience that until now he'd kept to himself. He didn't blame Corina for not believing. He lived the experience and could hardly believe it himself. Gene's impatience came from Corina's obvious comprehension of the facts clashing with her stubbornness to work past her anger.

Gene had been in the wrong. He knew that. If the tale itself weren't so crazy, he'd have told Corina everything up front. This wasn't about hiding the truth from his trusted lieutenant, his best friend; it was about finding the right opportunity to discuss his overwhelming adventure without Luna's wellbeing on the line. Gene could feel, in whatever part of his soul allowed him to do so, that his wife needed him. Every second that passed by was a moment he was failing in his responsibility as her mate.

"I don't know how much clearer I can be, Corina. Those are the facts," Gene spoke while swiveling around in the pilot's seat. He flipped the console switches that brought the turbines back up to speed. "K9-86, set course for the rendezvous spot, but set our landing sight a safe distance from the location by a kilometer or two."

"Understood, Captain. Setting course," The navigator droid chirped. Reliably, K9 was completely oblivious to the tension that hung in the air as thick as a hydrogen cloud: one spark or misplaced word could have ignited the whole cockpit into an argument. Fortunately, Corina had moved on from verbal anger, to silence.

He got married to an eighteen year old? Is he out of his freaking mind? Corina fumed. As she adjusted the vector heading for the Stratocaster's descent into Jedha's atmosphere, she couldn't even bear to look at her Captain. Gene was not a patient man to put it politely. But on a scale of stupid, there's impulsive and then there's reckless. Getting married to some stranger that Corina hadn't even met? That was reckless. Idiotic! But, she wasn't about to tell him that. He might have been an impulsive idiot, but Corina still respected the chain of command.

He was the Captain.

She was his Lieutenant. For now.

Corina wasn't bluffing. The next port they refueled at, she was gone. Much like the atmospheric shields, she could only take so much heat and pressure. She'd been infected with an unrequited infatuation. Meditation hadn't helped. Distractions proved useless. Corina wouldn't risk her career on something as tired and cliched as falling for a superior officer. She used the term superior loosely in light of recent events. That made that burning and building pressure to speak to Gene about her feelings all the more unbearable. As Corina watched the heat shields glow bright orange and blue during the Stratocaster's descent, she calculated the responsible thing to do was resign before her feelings compromised her professional integrity.

Honestly though, Corina thought to herself, eighteen? They're practically still green behind the ears. Although, the age difference was negligible considering she didn't even know this mystery person Gene was supposedly betrothed to. The Captain and this girl were only four years apart. It's possible she was more mature for her age. It's possible that she really was a "Wolf-Hybrid" shape shifting sorcerer. It was also more likely that Gene was simply out of his mind and alone.

Loneliness.

Corina understood loneliness. Of all the bizarre and wild stories Gene told her, loneliness was something she intimately understood. Maybe that's why it was all the more infuriating that her Captain was so obsessed with finding a way back to that... Girl.

"Approaching landing sight. Prepare for touch down in ten seconds," K9-s86 announced. Their metal fingers dexterously made their final adjustments to the Stratocaster's navigational relay, allowing Gene to pitch the ship from it's upright flying down ninety-degrees face up to land. The internal gyroscope kept the cockpit in an upright position as the rest of the ship shifted around them. It was a unique design for a modified patrol craft that made maneuvering awkward at times. The advantage however was the Stratocaster's vertical take-off and landing propulsion coming from its main thrusters allowing for rapid escapes when such situations became necessary. To Corina's annoyance, that advantage was a frequent necessity.

"Landing gear is stabilized, surface stable, powering down thrusters," Corina said aloud no one in particular.

"Touchdown, check. Engine cycle, check," Gene confirmed.

According to their initial scans, they'd landed on a plateau south of the rendezvous location. Holding a high ground advantage was preferable in this mission that'd already been more than they bargained for. Fortunately, their high risk could land Gene a high reward. That reward came with a substantial amount of guilt that began to weigh heavier on his shoulders. As the risk scaled up, the reward would still primarily benefit Gene, not the crew. He knew the upfront cost of hiring the Stratocaster wouldn't be enough to cover the damages and fuel cost they'd already accrued. Surely, whether they never intended to pay them at all or had already been killed, whoever had contracted them wasn't going to cover the delivery fee either.

The details could be managed later. For once, Gene had a clear objective and the means to see it through. Walking across the ladder to the cargo hold, he picked up the small bronze box. Inside may well be the key to reaching Luna.

"K9, once the engines finish their cooling cycle, bring them back up to speed as soon as possible. When we run into trouble, be ready to collect us, understand?" Corina commanded the droid as she entered the hold.

"Yes, Lieutenant. I'll be standing by," K9 replied over the intercom.

Gene turned as Corina pulled out their DLT-19 Heavy Blaster off the armory rack. She slung the rifle over her back and proceeded to equip two sonic-imploders into her utility belt along with a handful of high velocity magazines.

"Lieutenant?" Gene asked rhetorically. He knew what she was doing. There wouldn't even be an argument about it. She'd continue to ignore him for however long it took her to move on how she felt about being lied to. Unfortunately for Gene, the Zabrack have a long memory and are known to hold a grudge until appropriate amends are made.

Corina pulled down the lever to lower the cargo door. A sharp warm wind rushed into the hold. Sand, dust, debris rolled in they'd have to clear out before they broke orbit. That would be something for K9 to worry about. Gene focused on how he and Corina were going to cover a kilometer and a half of terrain on foot.

Naturally, a more awkward situation presented itself.

"Are you not taking anything for the next ambush? Don't think that six shooter of yours is gonna cut it," Corina huffed out, facing away from Gene.

She was lowering Lucile from the storage rack; they're older than dirt speeder-bike used for short range transport and metropolitan deliveries. Although practical for its ability to collapse into smaller parts, their custom 22-C Covert Stalker had a whole host of problems. For their immediate situation, Lucile only fit one passenger.

Gene put on a congenial face as he withdrew his Model VII, Austin Castor Revolver from the armory rack and shoved it into his side holster; "I'll manage."

"Suit yourself," Corina said flatly. She flipped the switch on the bike's console to expand from storage mode to flight. The segmented nose of the bike shifted outward piece by piece with a rusted clack each time a section locked into place. Corina pushed up her sleeves as she withdrew the long barrel of Lucile's forward blaster from the storage rack. She paused and pursed her lips together, "How much does the cargo weigh?"

Gene scanned the box with his Third Sight; "Nine kilograms."

"Nine?!" Corina sighed. She shook her head and put Lucile's gun barrel back on the storage rack. She'd already made the calculations. That was always one of Corina's many attributes that admittedly, Gene had taken for granted. She was always prepared to meet whatever challenge head on right down to the smallest detail.

"You could swap out the DLT-19 for an E-11?" Gene suggested with a wink.

Unamused, Corina scoffed, "I'd have better odds hitting my target with my eyes closed than with an E-11. Either we sacrifice Lucile's gun to increase our speed, or we both ride naked into battle to save on the weight differential."

"Maybe we'll save our naked ride for a later date," Gene grinned.

Corina stomped her foot and turned to face Gene, "See, shit like that isn't fair!" She immediately clasped her hands over her mouth. "Apologies, Captain," She growled. Swiftly, the Lieutenant straddled the bike and turned on the ignition.

"What's not fair?" Gene asked, bewildered by her sudden outburst.

"We're on the clock, Sir. Let's just get this mission over and done with," Corina insisted, keeping her eyes locked on the desert that lay beyond the cargo doors. Those heat shields of hers were already worn down thin. That rage she'd ignored and held in the back of her mind was pushing harder to the forefront of consciousness.

Gene wanted to push the issue. He wanted to make amends. It was hard enough to feel that he'd failed as a husband to be there for Luna; taking so long to find a way back to her. Now, the added burden of failing as a Captain and a friend was thrown on to the pile. If only adjusting emotional weight were as easy as balancing a speeder bike.

Sadly, it's not.

"Well," Corina snapped. "Are you riding or walking?"

"Riding," Gene sighed. He threw his right leg over the seat behind Corina. It wasn't awkward for Corina to pilot the bike; the weight distribution on this model of Stalker Bike favored the heavier load closer toward the engines in the rear. It wasn't even awkward sitting this close to his Lieutenant. Gene's discomfort came from the unknown tension that had suddenly appeared as a barrier between him and Corina.

Placing her helmet on, Corina clicked on the internal communicator, "K9, keep an eye on our position and let us know the second the Stratocaster is ready to fly again."

"Aye, Lieutenant. Best of luck," Their droid replied without a care in the world.

Revving the accelerator, Corina and Gene flew out of the cargo hold off the ramp. Wisps of sand swirled around them as they descended the steep plateau. It wasn't a smooth ride navigating the jagged rocks that jutted out from the base of the treacherous hillside, but they made it, racing forward into the desert. Gene reached behind to ensure their cargo was still stable. That little bronze box. The key to an unknown gateway. A path to his lover.

Corina jerked the speeder bike hard to the right, laterally drifting under a series of natural stone archways. The force of the maneuver nearly snapped Gene's neck from the whiplash.

"Company from above," Came Corina's garbled voice over the headset.

Gene glanced up between the gaps between archways. His Third Sight focused on the vessel entering into the atmosphere above them...

[Scanning_ (Arquitens-Class Light Cruiser) - Manufacturer: Kuwat Drive Yards* (partial match*) - Make: Unknown. Owner: Unknown. Weapons Payload: Unknown-- WARNING! - Unable to connect to Local Area Network]

Whoever they are, they must be broadcasting some sort of signal jammers. Gene would have to rely on his internal data network, his instincts, and Corina if they were going to face down an army. What Gene could figure was that the light-cruiser was heading in the same direction of their rendezvous point, and fast.

"Was she pretty?" Corina shouted into the communicator over the rushing wind.

Gene had his attention nailed to the battleship flying overhead, "What?"

"That girl you knew, was she pretty?" Corina repeated.

Momentarily thrown off guard, Gene felt a flood of memories wash over him. The pounding waterfall, the cool black sand, Luna's warm skin and soft fur; a torrent of feelings raced through his system. Was she pretty? No. She was the last beautiful girl he'd ever want to touch, to hear, to see, to taste again. As the thrusters of the warship caused the rock archways to tremble, he was shaken back into reality. There could have been a thousand ships. No Force would stop Gene from getting back to the woman who had captured his heart.

"Yeah," Gene replied, "She is."

Corina scoffed, "Is that all she is though?"