Screaming like a stuck mynock.

Atton's sleeping when the first missile hits Taris' moon.

It's far away, just off in the distance, but the force of it makes the ship shake anyway, waking Atton up.

"Took them long enough," he mumbles, getting out of bed. It's been another twelve hours, so he'd like to think the toxin is mostly gone by now.

It's night when they emerge from the lift, with clear skies littered with stars, the majority of which are blocked out.

Up above them, casting a shadow over them, is the vast, distinctive shape of the Wyrm, engines trailingthrough its mass of tentacles, lights gleaming, sharp, spiney legs moving back and forth through the air.

Atton peers at the shape, thoughtfully.

"Well. Kriff."

It's very dark.

Not completely dark. There are a few lights, sickly greenish-white, left, to give a little bit of illumination, and they light up the flow of water in the most interesting ways. It's a circular room, clearly deep underground, with a massive hole in the centre through which water crashes down. The railings are broken in several places. There are two doors there, and around each, an array of monitors, screens and machinery, all brand new.

Guppy and Will have been laid out on two blankets, on either side of the pit, and left there, at least until they wake up.

They made planetfall a couple of hours ago.

So far, things have mostly just been messing around. They landed in a forest clearing, a little way from a deep but gently flowing river and a waterfall.

Which is where Atton is now. There's a pile of his clothes on a rock by the river, but he's nowhere to be seen, most of the time. Occasionally, he bobs up from under the water, peers around, and goes back down again.

They have all of an hour to get up, shower, have breakfast and get ready before Atton is rushing off, yelling back at Will and Guppy about how they should start making tracks.

Five minutes later, they arrive in the hangar bay, and Atton starts looking around for their snowspeeders. He's a little miffed when he sees what they have instead.

Furry animals, about halfway between mammal and flightless bird, with reins and harnesses.

"I thought we were getting snowspeeders, not tauntauns," he protests.

The Jedi he's talking to shakes their head, sadly. "Snowspeeders are all broken."

Atton had intended to get some extra food with Will, but Ilum doesn't have a great deal of appetising things to eat.

On the bright side, though, the kitchens and mess hall are deserted, so nobody will take their food.

"They, er," Atton eyes a box. "They have dry, salty biscuits? They might be good."

Atton's found wooden swords for Guppy and Will (for Guppy, so that he can learn with them, for Will, so that he can help teach Guppy without cutting Guppy's sword up accidentally), and cleared a large space in the cargo bay.

"'Kay. Adjust your stance, slightly," Atton says to Guppy.

They've been skimming the planet for all of ten minutes when another ship, rather larger, moves close to them.

Dahari, the Kaleesh's voice comes over one of the speakers. "I believe we specified a meeting point. No harm done, however. We've located an escape pod, near one of the old temples. We're sending the coordinates now."

Lagos taps a few keys, then alters course. Five minutes later, a vast, off-white structure with numerous spires comes into view, and on its rooftop, a tiny ant-like person waving a bright light.

There's a slight whoosh as Lagos takes the ship down to land on the rooftop.

Docking Bay Three is as large as a small town. Larger, perhaps. It's massively wide and tall, many-tiered, with rows upon rows of landing pads and towers connected by a vast network of interconnecting bridges, that go up as far as the eye can follow.

There are shops here, and cantinas, for those just getting out or preparing to get into their ships, and at least a dozen exits and entrances scattered around the levels.

The escape pod goes gliding through the containment field and crashes down on the lowest level, spinning as it goes. It's lucky it's well-cushioned and padded, really - with no proper way to land, a controlled crash is the best Guppy and Will could've hoped for.

Nevertheless, it eventually comes to a stop, down at the base of several towers. This lowest level doesn't have many people - it's mostly droids hurrying about to do maintenance, with a few ships that look like they've seen better days.

Atton left a note at the bar.

Have trip. Dress medieval.

- A.

Now he's lounging near the door, in medieval attire, in shades of brown and grey with a nice new leather jerkin. He has his gauntlet on, and is tapping the claw-like fingertips of it against the table.