They appeared human on the outside. To be perfectly honest, Gene didn't pay his attackers much attention when he blew open their airlock and sent them flying out into the cold vacuum of space. K9-86 had suggested performing an autopsy on one of the three corpses to determine their species. Corina argued that identifying an unknown sentient species could net them more than a handful of credits if verified by The Ascendancy. Gene didn't have the time or presence of mind for posthumous surgery or dealing with bureaucracy. They were still on the clock. There was still a job to do.

When someone attacked Gene's crew, his ship, in the middle of a job, those people got dealt with. It wasn't personal. It was business. A tired line, sure, but one that applied to the situation. Before taking the cargo and putting the whole incident behind him, Gene still needed to know why they'd attacked in the first place. If for no other reason than he'd have to write up a report for the insurance people, he needed to make an effort to get some answers.

"We could have just asked," Corina reminded Gene once again.

He chose to ignore her. As his Third Sight scanned the freighter's computer network, he'd discovered the encryption wasn't as sophisticated as he'd imagined. Unfortunately, even for his internal network, deciphering the language used by their assailants was proving to be less than successful. It was a runic language. That much he gathered. Similar symbols and written constructs to the Alchemic language Gene employed in his limited conjuring. The phonetic system however was taking a frustrating amount of time to translate; too much time than Gene was willing to spend.

"K9-86," Gene spoke into the com-set in his helmet, "I'm transferring the freighter's log to the Stratocaster's computer. Get to work on translating this mess. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain," The droid answered over the background static. "Sir, I am compelled to remind you, I am not a protocol droid. Translation is not my primary function--"

"I know!" Gene barked, but he caught himself. His anger, his own frustration was fighting against his typically focused nature. Taking a deep breath, the captain added, "Just do your best, '86. Over and out."

Corina placed a gloved hand on Gene's shoulder. When he shook it off, she jerked backwards and floated back against the hull of the freighter. She spoke cautiously over the communicator, "Captain, maybe we should find a port and take a break? We'll find another job. Something legit. What was supposed to be a simple handoff has already been, well-- I'm sorry, Captain. Should have done my homework."

"No," Gene huffed out as he kicked off the floor and floated toward the cargo hold. "You booked this job and we'll get it done. We've got a reputation to uphold." Gene sensed the tension Corina still held over his head. In a hastily attempt to dispel her uneasiness, he added, "You've nothing to apologize for. Let's just finish the job." 

Corina pulled herself hand over hand along the overhead railing to the nearly empty cargo hold. She could have just walked, but the magnetic boots were often more cumbersome than helpful when it came to navigating inside a ship in zero gravity.

She came to a stop beside Gene, grasping for the right words to say; "Captain, this job is clearly a wash. If we want to keep our courier license, my recommendation: we drop and run."

"Corina, we're not some two-bit smuggling operation. We play this by the book. We were hired to ship whatever this is," Gene stated, tapping the small unmarked crate with his foot, "We deliver this to the Jedha System, get paid, and then we'll find a port to settle in."

Corina nodded. As certain aspects of Gene's personality had undoubtedly changed, his determination had remained. When her captain set his mind to something regardless of the danger or impossibility of success, that job got done. Still, that more compassionate side of his that she'd witnessed bloom over the years had all but withered. She couldn't stand it. She wouldn't standby and let Gene spiral any longer.

"Captain," she started, "Permission to speak freely?"

Gene stopped and turned. His semi transparent faceplate obscured his expression, but posture suggested he was at least making an effort not to appear impatient, "Let's get this crate aboard and make the jump to Jedha. Once we're out of harm's way, then we'll talk. Deal?"

Corina nodded. Fine. At least Gene didn't shut her down outright. She should by all purposes be focused on the mission anyway. But, Corina considered, it was hard to be focused on anything when part of who you were was missing.

Gene unlatched the bronze shipping crate and lifted it effortlessly. Pulling themselves forward by the tethers attached to their belts, both he and Corina floated out of the derelict freighter and back into the Stratocaster. Once aboard and internal pressure restored to their ship, Gene unlatched and stepped out of the EVA suit. He combed a hand through his oily bright red hair and wretched. It had been at least a week since they'd properly washed up at a port and it showed. Wiping his hands on his uniform pants, Gene climbed the ladder back to the cockpit.

Corina was left to secure whatever they'd brought aboard their ship. Sure, they'd scanned it first: nothing hazardous or explosive. Even if the contents registered as mostly calcium carbonate, its chemical makeup wasn't what worried her. What was unsettling to Corina was the implication that whoever that freighter had belonged to (or was stolen from), did not want that crate delivered to the party that originally ordered it. There was something bigger unfolding here and people willing to kill over this seemingly insignificant job.

"Lieutenant, on deck please," Gene called from the cockpit. His voice echoed over the intercom and communicator Corina kept in her ear. She switched off the device to keep from hearing Gene's voice reverberate in her head. Not that his voice in her head wasn't already a problem, but at least she could control the communicator.

"Aye, Captain, on my way," Corina replied. Quickly unlatching and sliding off the EVA suit, she climbed up the central ladder.

K9-86 had already typed in the coordinates to the navigation computer; "Course to Jedha set, ETA seven hours, twenty-three minutes. Standby to initiate hyperdrive."

"Copy," Gene replied, flipping the switches to sync the hyperdrive and navi-computer, "Sequence locked and ready. Ready on my mark. Three, two... Mark."

Simultaneously, Gene and K9 engaged the hyperdrive. There was a flicker of pseudo-motion and flash of light as the star field around them stretched and twisted into a tunnel of blinding lights. In another instant, the sudden G-Force abruptly pushed them into their seat. Another moment more and their relative terminal velocity stabilized. They were on their way. A job almost well done... a little too well done, for Gene's liking.

Corina considered they were most likely headed straight into an ambush. Even if she only tentatively believed Gene's story about crossing dimensions, finding his wife, and fighting monsters, she did believe something had fundamentally changed her captain. He had spent the last two months searching so hard for a way to get back to... Wherever he'd run off to. She'd never known him to fail at any mission he'd set his mind to. Maybe that's where his depression or madness stemmed from? If he believed to have never failed at anything before, perhaps that was the reason his personality drastically altered. Hopefully, he hadn't completely changed for the worse.

"You're taking first-watch, okay?" Gene said abruptly, derailing Corina's train of thought.

"Aye, Captain," Corina acknowledged with a weak smile.

"I'll be back up at 1600 hours and break you," Gene added as he descended the ladder to the crew quarters. Corina listened to the tapping of his boots against the metal ladder all the way down. If she had the opportunity, the guts maybe, she'd follow him to his bunk and wrestle the truth out of him. Where had he really gone for those months? Did he really fight monsters? Who was this so-called wife of his? But, she kept her post. Watching. Waiting. She longed for the day she was brave enough to disobey her Captain's orders.

---

They were four hours out from Jedha. Feeling slightly rested after their confrontation, it was Gene's turn to stand watch while Corina hit the racks. For the next four hours, it would be Gene and the droid alone in the cockpit. Originally designed for security and close quarters combat, K9-s86 was far more qualified for fighting than idle conversation. Fortunately, Gene still had the task of deciphering the freighter's alien language to keep him busy. 

Like most projects, Gene had underestimated the amount of effort required to solve the particular problem at hand. The phonic detector on the Stratocaster was less than helpful. More likely, it was also two or three models out of date too. Nearly four hours of processing the data yielded no results. Instead, the computer spat out an error code Gene hadn't seen before, "Code 66: Restricted Language - Unauthorized to Decipher."

What the hell was a restricted language? Again, their onboard computer offered no additional clues other than, 'Restricted languages are banned from New Republic network systems.' So, Gene considered, if it was banned there must have been a law passed to make standard computers unable to translate whatever language this was. Depending on how this job paid out, perhaps he'd venture into a Mid Rim System, find a network terminal, and investigate the law? Maybe he could bash his head into the side of a wall out of boredom?

Clearly Gene couldn't instead wait another four hours to arrive on Jedha. Whoever was on the other side of this deal knew more about why the freighter carrying their merchandise attacked them. He would be at a disadvantage in information, power, and that could cost him his life.Why had three human-ish men in black robes made so much effort to steal a crate no bigger than a sixty centimeter cube? There was a simple way to get part of that answer. Gene had made it company policy never to open merchandise. Plausible deniability often meant the difference between paying heavy fines or jail time if caught by the Ascendancy. Whatever was in that box was worth something to somebody. All Gene had to worry about was delivering it on time.

One small bronze crate. Three dead bodies. Gene bristled at the alternative that those three dead bodies could have been him, Corina, and K9-86 if they hadn't been capable enough to fight back. All that effort couldn't have possibly been worth something so small, could it?

Gene unbuckled himself from his pilot's chair.

"Sir?" K9-86 asked. "Please use caution when moving about the cabin at light-speed."

Gene raised a hand in acknowledgment as he lowered himself into the cargo hold. Just a peak couldn't hurt. It was his ship after all. His crew in danger. He should have inspected the cargo more thoroughly. It was the responsible thing to do. Yeah. That's right. He was only being responsible. That lazy justification made Gene feel slightly more comfortable as he unlatched the box.

There was a slight hiss as the airtight seal on the crate broke. A moment of hesitation came and went as Gene opened the lid. His disappointment was almost crippling. They were almost killed for this?

"It's just a piece of rock," Gene huffed out. His father's ship, his droid, his best friend and co-pilot were almost blown up for a slab of rock with graffiti on it? Disappointment quickly morphed into anger. For some group of black robe wearing weirdos to think his crew was worth killing over a rock, Gene shouldn't have given them the courtesy of a quick death.

Gene took a breath.

That wasn't like him.

He closed the lid on the hexagonal carved stone. Something about this sector, this mission had taken hold of him. Something dark. He could feel an overwhelming sense of anger seep into his veins like thick black oil. According to his Third Sight, no external psychological or emotional alterations had been made by any outside Force; at least none he could immediately detect. However, Gene had the presence of mind to feel something was wrong with him.

"Sir, phonic detection has a partial match on one of the symbols," K9-86 spoke from the cockpit. "Would you like me to throw it up on the cargo hold display for you?"

"Yes. Thank you, '86. Go ahead," Gene stood up to face the CRT Monitor on the starboard wall. Flipping on the screen, a black and white image of the rune symbol translated into both Basic and Katakana. There was a flicker of uncomfortable recognition in Gene. It couldn't be a coincidence. The same symbol in the Unknown Language was the same as the one inscribed on the rock in the box.

In Galactic Basic, the symbol appeared as, "Qo."

When translated, the rune's definition meant, "Path."

Against his better judgment, Gene quickly opened the bronze crate again.

As clear as space, it was the same symbol: Qo, Path.

Utilizing his Third Sight, Gene cycled through the alphabet of Conjuring Glyphs. Staring at the stone with the marking on the box, he was able to view the information in his Mind's Eye on the peripheral of his vision alongside the stone with the Unknown Language in the box...

[Translation / Query: 'Path' (n): [specify language =Conjuring_Glyphs] "The alchemic symbols for path, or passageway are sequenced with the following symbols scribed counterclockwise on limestone to produce a gateway..."  <pause query>

Gene's eyes lit up. It may not have been an exact match, but the symbol on the rock in the box was shockingly similar to the last symbol in the sequence that had been used to transport Gene and his team across the universe. The first three symbols stood for what elements would be utilized in the circle; mind, body, and soul. Glyphs of a Crucible, the symbol for Projection and Air indicated the process the elements would undergo. The last glyph however was what Gene recognized loosely resembled a Torii Gate; something his father told him symbolized a gateway separating reality and the supernatural.

Granted what was supernatural in the past was simply a higher process of science now, but that was beside the point. Semantics were not what suddenly sprouted a renewed sense of hope in Gene. Finally, after months of searching, it boiled down to dumb luck. Gene had stumbled upon his first tangible piece of the puzzle he'd nearly given up on solving. Etched on the rock in the box was a symbol nearly identical to that of the Alchemical Symbol for gateway.

A path.

A passageway back to Luna.