Distant Horizons/Chapter 1

Distant Horizons
Chapter 1

The Universe

Hando Likir had no idea where he was. It had been days since he had battled the pirates at Tatooine, and had escaped into hyperspace. But the only problem was that he had crashed into the mass shadow of an asteroid, and was now drifting meaninglessly through empty space. He sighed. He turned in his chair and looked around. Everyone else was asleep, including Shia, the Twi’Lek smuggler, Ghai Fek, the Herglic gunner and co-pilot, Trisha, his girlfriend and technician, and Ghoel, the Wol Cabbasshite crook. He stared at Ghoel for a long time. He had met the Wol Cabbasshite over ten years back when he was working for that stinking and crazy Jabba the Hutt. Ghoel was hanging from the rafters, stealing Jabba’s food. After Jabba’s death, he had befriended the weird parasite, who could sense any incoming metallic objects and so warn for danger. Hando rubbed his hand over his glistening green skin. He did not find it hard to imagine being a Human, or a Bith, or a Rodian or most other species. But he could hardly imagine what it felt like being a Wol Cabbasshite like Ghoel. Ghoel had no legs or arms, and communicated using magnetic slag in his guts. Hando grimaced. He could never imagine being as weird looking as Ghoel, but he also considered it was probably just as hard for Ghoel to imagine being a Duros like himself. Ghoel was as still as a statue, fast asleep in the overhead locker. The rest of the crew was just as motionless, only their chests slowly rising and falling as they breathed the stale air in the cabin. That gave him a reminder: The life support. He had spent hours tinkering with the life support recharge, but it still wouldn’t run smoothly for more than a minute or two, and every time it broke down it took longer to repair. Brilliant. A slow and painful death from carbon dioxide poisoning for everybody except poor old Ghoel who could survive in a vacuum. He would have to wait, slowly watch his friends bodies decay until he eventually starved to death. Hando had witnessed the life support short circuit so many times. It always happened in exactly the same place, and every time it took longer to repair. He couldn’t figure out what the kriffing hell was wrong with it. He had spent hours and hours trying to restore the system. Perhaps he had spent days, he couldn’t tell. The on board clocks were destroyed and there were no planets and stars to determine the time. Every day he felt hotter and hotter, and more and more tired. For a short time he had considered ejecting himself into space and committing suicide, but he had quickly dismissed that idea. He rose from his seat at the head of the bridge of the Distant Horizons smuggling freighter and stretched his body listening to his vertebrae snap into place one by one. Then he relaxed and headed past his sleeping crewmates into the passageway. Like always, it was a mess. In theory he was a smuggler, and in theory he and his crew should stash things away hidden, but there was so much illegal contraband that there could never be room in the into the secret floor compartment which he was now walking over. In the hallway, all of the criminal stash was scattered all over the place, packed in crates and cardboard boxes. There were ornaments, jewellery, spice, guns, illegal hacker droids, everything. If anybody, whether they were from the alliance or from the empire, would take one look in here and have them all imprisoned. But now the mess didn’t matter. Wherever they were now, there were no imperials, or alliance forces, for hundreds of light years around. Slowly, Hando made his way past to the great mess to the floor panel above the life support recharge system. He stood still for a moment, then slowly bent down, stretched his arms out and lifted up the floorboard. He climbed down into the smuggler compartment, then opened a large hatch in the wall, and climbed through. “Blast it” he cursed. It was as he had feared. The life support was fried- again. He had seen this before. Every time he tried to repair the gas converter, it had exploded. Every time, the explosion had been bigger. Every time, the damage was worse, and it took longer it took for him to repair. And the longer it took for him to repair this kriffing wreck of a contraption, this abomination, the longer he and his friends had to go without air. He cursed again under his breath. Somehow, he was absolutely sure that this time too, the machine would blow, with an explosion even bigger and more destructive than the last. It was like being at school again. “Oh man” Hando groaned at the memory, almost jumping out of his skin from the sound of his own voice. School had never been Hando’s thing. Every time he achieved something, he was given something harder. Every time he survived something, he was given an even harsher experience. It was the same here. The more times he tried repairing the kriffing life support recharge, the bigger the explosion was when it short circuited again, and the more damage he had to repair the next time. “School, life support, school, life support, school, life support, school...” It went through his head, again and again, while he repaired the life support recharge. He had done it so many times before. He didn’t need to think. His hands worked automatically. His body was here, but none of his mind. His movement were automatic, repetitive, as if he were a droid, a load lifter, something like that, with his hands automatically making the same movements they were programmed to do. His mind was thinking back to school. Or at least, it was trying to. Hando was so tired he couldn’t think of anything. He longed for this ceaseless labour to end. He longed to land his ship back the stable ground, on the strong metal landing platform in the cool air of Bespin. He longed to head with Trisha into the luxury rooms, and enjoy the endless clouds, the view, the city... Hando was asleep. His body flopped backwards- and his head hit the hard metal floor. Hando jerked awake. His head was bleeding from the back. He rubbed the dark blue blood over the back of his head. Luckily, even though he was bald, his head was the same colour as his blood, so a grisly cut wouldn’t show. He lay back and grimaced. And he nearly fell asleep again, but then forced himself to keep awake. He rose, crept out of the hatchway and up through the floor. That, he decided, would be the last time he would fall asleep while down in that stinking hole. He went over to a random cardboard box, tore off the insulation tape, and rummaged inside. It contained spice. He looked at each packet, until he found some rafa’tatooine joints. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a flamelighter. Then he lit the paper joint and put it to his lips, and inhaled deeply. The effect was disappointing. Unlike most times, this cigarette hardly stimulated his mind at all. He felt s tiny tinge of energy and euphoria, but that was it. He took out the joint, took a step back and held it to the light, then took another smaller step back. His foot landed on a large metal spice roller. He slid, and fell backwards, tumbling through the open floor and into the hole. “Aaaaaaaarg dammit” he screeched. He thrashed wildly in the air with his feet, kicking a toolkit through the air. He groaned in agony, and ran his fingers down his back. He sat up and pushed himself towards the wall, then leaned against it. He rolled up his trousers. There were a few bruises, not to serious. But when he tried to get up his back was on fire with a sharp pain. And he staggered back and collapsed against the wall. Then he sat silent. Obviously nobody had heard his screams, since nobody seemed to be coming. He exhaled slowly and shifted, trying to ease the pain. His back touched something rough, and he pushed up on it with his arm and elbow. A loud beep went off. Hando sat still, listened. A quiet hum was coming from inside the ship, and he felt cool air rush past his forehead. No it couldn’t be... the life support. He smiled a tired smile, but then a cold shiver ran down his spine. The life support. The... “Oh no” he gasped and he frantically dragged himself to his feet. But it was too late. A huge explosion knocked him off his feet, and blasted bits of metal everywhere, sent showers of sparks flying and shook the ship. Without even turning to look, Hando clambered up through the floor. He was inconceivably furious. He punched his fist into a crate of guns and hurled it into the hole. He kicked and punched mindlessly, smashed crates and boxes, and screamed curses across the ship. Ghoel awoke. He stretched the fibres within his body and opened his mouth wide, sticking out his long tongue. Then he listened out. He heard the screaming of the enraged duros, and his eyes sank. The poor soul often got like this. And of course he knew what was wrong. The apparatus which everybody -except him- needed for breathing was constantly a mess. Many times had he heard the explosions inside the ship, and had heard the duros scream and cry, and many times he had tried to comfort him. For although he himself required no gas in particular to survive, he could never bare to watch his friends suffocate in here. He needed their company, even though he couldn’t even talk to them without special apparatus. He loved to play holochess, computer games, sing song through the magnetic detector, and laugh at the hilarious happenings. But now was no time for laughing. Now, Hando was in distress, screaming at the same thing he was always screaming at. But this time, he remembered, there was something special he could do to help. “Hmm, damn what...” he thought- but then, suddenly, Ghoel remembered the creature. The creature he had found last night in the overhead locker. There was a crash in the corridor. Ghoel stretched his long head through the control room door. Hando had kicked a crate full of guns down into the maintenance compartment. Ghoel hesitated for a moment, and then pulled himself across the ceiling towards Hando. Hando sat on a crate, with his head in his hands. Never again was he going to activate the life support. He would have to let his friends do with stale, thick air, and even danger of suffocation. “Kriffing hell no” he said under his breath. He wouldn’t deal with the stupid life support. He and Shia would get to work someplace else. They would get the communications back. They would get the power back. They wouldn’t just slave away on something which they could never hope to work. Hando raised his head. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of cortyg cocktail, and took a sip. Suddenly, he felt a tiny ringing and twitching in his head. He sat up, confused, and looked around. And then he felt a familiar object touch him on the back of the head. He smiled. He turned around, and saw the familiar face of Ghoel above him. Ghoel’s tongue flicked back into his mouth, and then his face suddenly became very serious. Hando reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny magnetic earpiece he used when talking to Ghoel. Then he activated it, put it into his ear, and listened. He heard Ghoel’s self-chosen simulated voice. “Just coming to say good morning”, the Wol Cabbasshite said, and he smiled kindly. He peered down into the maintenance area, and saw some small sparks coming from the life support recharge generator. A battered crate lay open in the corner, with a few blasters fallen out. He turned back to look at Hando. “I’m sorry” he added. Hando looked away to his side, a faint flicker of a smile on his face. Ghoel stretched his head closer to Hando’s. “I think I have something for you”, he said. Hando’s heart performed tiny leap inside his body, and he turned to Ghoel. Ghoel’s eyes were bright, almost exited. “Come on” he said. Hando hesitated, and gazed into the Wol Cabbasshite’s eyes for a moment. Then he took a sip of cocktail from his bottle, closed it and pocketed it. Ghoel smiled excitedly. He could contribute. This time he could. He turned his head, and headed and crawled across the rough sealing towards the main cabin room. Hando followed. He walked with his head low, his eyes staring towards the ground, deep in though. Ghoel looked back, and he pitied the duros once again. Ghoel looked back forwards, and crawled towards the door to the common room. Hando stepped up behind him and pushed the panel. The door opened, and the two entered. In the corner of the room, sitting at table with his legs wide and his back against the wall, was Ghai Fek. Unlike Hando, tired and weary, he looked lively and strong, munching his breakfast as if he was still in the 5 star dining rooms at cloud city. He looked up from his meal and smiled an image of joy and happiness. In Hando, he sparked a tiny flicker of hope. That was Ghai, simply Ghai. It was his personality. He was always here to cheer everybody up. If he had not been on board, Hando knew he would have gone mad by now. Hando appreciated Ghai, for it was he, the biggest of them all, who was suffering the most under the lack of air in the cabin. As Ghai grinned at him, Hando could not help but smile back. “Hey” said Ghai, his big booming voice brightening the silence. Ghoel grinned at him, and so did Hando. “So what’s up people, good time out in this stinking cold desert in space” he said, still grinning. “I’ve noticed something. I think that the gravity generators aren't working.” Ghoel sniggered. But only Hando could hear, as only he had the magnetic earpiece activated. Ghai continued: “Started this morning, seriously. I used to weigh 453 kilograms standard grav”, he exclaimed, “but this morning, I just happened to stand on the weighing pad, and for some incomprehensible reason, in only weigh 380.” Hando guffawed. Never before had Ghai said something so ridiculous. “Obviously”, Hando said, half laughing half yawning, “You got considering other people, ts’heh.”- “Maybe you haven’t eaten enough Ghai, ’cause this time, bwhaahaa, you gotta leave some cheese for the rest of us.”                                                                                                                        Ghai snorted loud, and snarled in disgust, “That’s because I’m...” Ghoel’s mouth dropped open. “Hando!” he cried through the magnetic earpiece, “Ghai is starving”. Hando sniggered. “Oy Ghoel, d’you say something” Ghai asked sarcastically. Ghoel turned to Ghai. Suddenly, his face turned bright pink. Quick as a flash, he turned his head, grabbed a gadget from his skin fold with his tongue, and flicked it on. Ghoel’s voice came through a large loudspeaker. “IF YOU THINK I SAID SOMETHING THEN PUT IN THE EARPIECE KRIFF’HELL DAMMIT. “ “What the... ahh okay. Chill brother!” Said Ghai. He reached his huge smooth blue hand into his pocket and drew out an earpiece. Now, finally, Ghai to could hear Ghoel. “Okay guys, thanks. Sorry, but its real frustrating if you can’t communicate with your friends. Id love the proper apparatus, but I just can’t afford the crap, okay. Sorry Ghai,” said Ghoel. Ghai smirked “Okay, sure” he managed to say, still trembling slightly from the shock of being yelled at by somebody who- in theory- couldn’t even speak. There was a long silence. “Let’s play a game of holochess”, Ghai said, cheerful again. “Ghoel, you with me, what about you grumpy?” “Naa, I got work to do. Ghoel, what was it you said you had?”                                                                      Ghoel turned towards him. He was silent for a minute, and gazed down, his eyes narrow. What was it he... a yes, the creature. “Yeah, okay Hando, er, Ghai, just hold on a minute okay?” Ghai grunted something inaudible, and opened the table drawer, taking out a holochess board. Ghoel’s face turned pale. He slid across the ceiling into the kitchen. It was cold and dark in the Kitchen, and there was an aura of coldness in soul, as well as actual heat. It was a sad, frightening place. Hando followed close behind Ghoel, and the door closed behind them. They waited until they were out of range of Ghai’s transmitter, and then, finally, Ghoel spoke. “I don’t think you’ll like hearing this” he purred quietly, “but I think were infested”. “Mynocks?” asked Hando. “Naa, m’afraid not pal,” said Ghoel, and he stopped. They were standing in front of an overhead locker, old, grubby, and looking like nobody had touched it for years. “Take a look in there”, said Ghoel. Hando hesitated, and looked back at Ghoel who was moving away from him. Ghoel moved back over to the door. Hando took one more look at him, and then turned to the locker. He stood on tiptoe and opened it. There was a loud hum, and the sealing blinked. The illuminators came on, lighting the kitchen in pale white. “Thanks” said Hando over his shoulder, and turned back to the locker. He was startled. “What a mess!” he said. “Oh you know, nobody looked in there, in fact nobody went in this room for several months. It’s just one of my hideouts,” replied Ghoel. “Damn you you’ve been living it up in here,” Hando yelled. Inside, Ghoel had certainly made himself comfortable. There were empty cans of quality beer from Tanaabian frigrain, crumbs from biscuits, party and sex magazines, a hologame gadget, blankets, cigarettes and a large, black jar. “What the hell is all this?” exclaimed Hando, “you got all this alcohol, fags, joints, porno-mags... oh man and what’s this thing,” he said, picking up the black jar. He turned around. Ghoel slithered across the ceiling towards him. “That,” he said, “is what’s important.” “I dare you to open it, but be careful, cause I don’t think you’ll like what we got here.” Hando stared at Ghoel for a long time. The Wol Cabbasshite stared straight back. Then he looked down at the jar. With trembling hands, he clutched the lid, and turned. He turned and turned, until the lid was unscrewed. Holding down the lid tightly, he turned to Ghoel. Ghoel didn’t look at him, but only stared at the Jar. “Could you at least give me an idea of what this is?” said Hando, hopefully. “I thought you a brave man, Hando,” said Ghoel. “Please don’t let me down” Hando stared back at the Jar. He summoned every last bit of power he had left, and then wrenched the lid off. A terrible stink filled the air, and a little bit of water spilt out the jar. Then, out of the black jar, came tentacles, followed by a heavy, club shaped head. The head’s mouth opened, and revealed a foul set of dozens of white, sharp, hook shaped teeth. In their centre, a long beak emerged, and opened, revealing a fat, muscular tongue. Hando had never seen something so horrid. But he knew what it was. “A baby sarlacc,” he said at last. “Thanks Ghoel. This your handiwork?” Ghoel’s face tightened, clearly offended. “I couldn’t do that,” he said, “even if I wanted to. Or do you think you can go and buy baby sarlacci.” “I’m well aware you can get your hands on anything,” Hando said, still staring into the jar. It was truly horrifying. The sarlacci squirmed, and writhed, its beak wide open and its tentacles pulsating. “What I was going to say was that I think that thing has been chewing on the power cables,” said Ghoel. Hando stood silent. Then he spoke: “When did you find this?” he said. “Last night,” replied Ghoel, “And I think its the reason why the life support systems blow every time.” Hando stared at Ghoel. Ghoel glanced back, with sympathy in his eyes. Suddenly Hando felt sharp pain in his arm. He yelled, and shook his arm. The Sarlacci, which had bitten him, flew across the kitchen and landed in the washbasin. Hando groaned and clutched his bleeding arm. “Get rid of that thing,” he growled, “eject it Ghoel, into space” “I warn you, they’re vacuum breathers,” said Ghoel. “They?” Ghoel’s face turned a pale browny-yellow. He stared at the floor. Hando stared at him, still clutching his bleeding arm. At last, Ghoel spoke. “I cannot know this” he said solemnly, “but I don’t think this is the only one” Hando stared at him. Then he turned away. He paced back to the door and pushed it open. “There you are,” cried Ghai from the table in the corner, “where the hell have you...” “do me a favour will you?” pleaded Hando. The big Herglic stared at him, and then, finally, he raised. Standing at his full height, Ghai was indeed an impressive figure, a towering man of muscle and brawn. But the Herglic was no brute, and he followed Hando into the hall. Hando was searing with a mixture of rage and triumph. At last, the cause of the constant malfunctioning of the life support would be unveiled and destroyed. He tore into a crate of guns and pulled out a KYD-21 assassin pistol. Then he jumped down into the hole and down to the maintenance bunker. He climbed through the large hatch and into the compartment with the life support recharger. Then he listened. He heard a faint rush of air coming from other machinery somewhere else. A faint electric hum was coming the life support recharge. Behind him, Ghai squeezed through the hatch. He was carrying a CR-1 shotgun, in one hand. Hando peered out into the main smuggling hold, and saw Ghoel’s head appear through the hole. “How d’you get down here” he muttered to Ghoel, but there was no answer, even through the magnetic earpiece. Three beings. In the hold. Shia and Trisha were obviously still asleep. “Okay” said Hando, “this should do it”, and he clipped a heat scanner from his belt. He held the sensor high and watched the screen. Ghai breathed heavily behind him. Ghoel was motionless. The engine should have been the hottest, but right now, it had not been switched on for days, maybe even weeks, so it was cool. The hyperdrive was the coolest. No wonder, it was destroyed anyway. The heating was hot, so much was clear, and so were any electrical systems. But apart from himself, Ghai and Ghoel, there was virtually no... “Wait a second,” said Ghai, clutching his gun. “We don’t give off all that heat. No way not even...” but Ghai never finished. That instant, Ghai dropped to the floor, kicking and panting. “Get this thing...” “What?” said Hando. “That... Thingg goaaad” Then Ghai grabbed the vile creature. He threw the sarlacci at the floor, before another leapt at him. Ghai raised his gun and fired. The sarlacci flew into bits and flipped back into the darkness. “Look ooouuut!” he roared, trying to stand again. Hando looked up. A vile mouth full of teeth flew straight at him. He dropped his blaster and clutched the creature. Ghai shot again. Hando felt the searing pain as a single shotgun pellet scraped his crown, but the creature was gone. Hando wiped the sarlacc blood from his head. He grabbed his blaster. A terrible screech atoned from the darkness. Ghai and Hando looked down. A swarm of vile toothed mouths emerged from the blackness. Simultaneously, the two fired their weapons. A blast from Hando hit one of the creatures, sending blood spattering across the mass, and causing the sarlacci to trip over one another. Ghai blasted and blasted. “What do we do man?” he shouted over the screeching mass. Hando gave him an honest look: They had no chance like this. “Ill holder” said Ghai, snatching Hando’s blaster and firing at the mass. Hando climbed back to the corridor, and dashed over to one of the larger boxes. He had a plan. Ghai took another step back. There were too many of them for him. Yes he was big, and yes he was strong. But they were a savage mess. They would eat him alive, and he knew it. He relentlessly kept blasting. The red and orange blasts from the blaster and the shotgun pounded the massive swarm, and still they kept coming closer. Suddenly a huge slimy maw came over his head. He screamed. And blasted the creature, but then another creature got him by the arm. He was done. He tripped and fell, and lay there helpless as the sarlacci began to chew on his flesh. He writhed and kicked. He was like and animal. He wanted to live, however much suffering it involved. He would fight to his last breath to protect himself. He kicked the creatures. He swung his fist at his head, knocking the monster away, and he looked up. But that was only the beginning. Now, there came more. Bigger ones, more powerful ones. They leapt at him, and drowned him in their mass. They piled on top of him, more and more... until suddenly they stopped. The weight on top of him became lighter, flashes of bright light lit up the hold, sarlacci screamed in agony... With his last breath, Ghai tore the sarlacci from his face, and looked up. There was Hando, proud and determined, behind huge E-WEB cannon, blasting the foul horde. Ghai smiled. The proud smuggler captain and warrior in action once more. Ghai watched as the sarlacci were fried and burnt, and then dragged himself towards the wall glowing with victory.

“Damn hate this stuff”, sighed Shia, as he took a last mouthful of his oatmeal. He sighed grimly, and then turned to Trisha. Trisha sat silent, and quietly chewed her oatmeal. Yes, she hated this stuff as well, but frankly, she didn’t give a kriff on anybody so long as she had something to eat. She was deep in thought. She had known Hando for a long time, and she had fallen in love with him. They had had a great time together, along with all of their other friends on board the Distant Horizons. They had been adventurers and smugglers. They had spent years sneaking around the Galaxy, laughing at people, laughing at the empire, the rebels, the new republic... everybody. The money had come in from all around. They had smuggled spice for Lady Valerian and Jabba the Hutt on Tatooine, smuggled illegal arms for Wonn Ionstrike on Bespin, stolen a rebel transport for Jillo Bethess on Ando, and done all sorts of other minor criminal activities. Yet now, they were finished. Now, they were drifting in empty space, with no communication, navigation, engines or life support. And Hando had gone insane. She had spoken to Hando less and less over the past few days, and now she were starting to get the feeling that he didn’t want to talk to her. A draft of cold air entered the room. Trisha stopped chewing and looked up, her mouth still full of oatmeal. What was this? She looked at Shia. He had obviously also noticed, and was looking around wildly. Suddenly, Trisha felt cool air in her mouth, and in the folds of her eyes. Fresh air. Suddenly Shia started laughing loudly and merrily. He got up, and stretched, and breathed in deeply. And then Trisha smiled as well. The life support. It was back on again. “At last” whispered Shia. Trisha walked into the hallway. The fresh air was brilliant. There was nothing like fresh air. All her life she had never known how important it was. As a teenager she had sat in a room all day with all windows closed. She had hated the drafts and windy air. Fresh air. Cold air. But now the air was everything. She remembered Bespin. Not just a planet, but an enormous gas giant made entirely of air. The fresh air paradise. She longed to go to the windy gas world once more. As she started thinking of planets, Trisha realized how much she missed them. Planets were so... big. Enormous, endless space. And that reminded her how much she wanted some room. Now, at least they had fresh air, but the ship was still small and they were all squashed together. On a planet, there truly was endless room. Room to run, room for privacy, room for everything any being would want. A huge heavy airlock clamped open. Trisha turned the corner. Ghoel, the Wol Cabbasshite, was pushing a huge plastic garbage sack into the ejection airlock. Before Ghoel saw her, Trisha quickly inserted the Magnetic earpiece with which she could speak with Ghoel, for she knew Ghoel -quite fairly- expected everybody to have this earpiece in at all times so he could talk with his friends. Trisha wondered what was in that huge bag. “Don’t ask”, came Ghoel’s recorded voice through the earpiece, “I don’t think you’ll want to know”. “Why?” asked Trisha. Ghoel did not answer, but he slithered further across the ceiling of the corridor, pushing the bag into the airlock. He stuck out his tongue, and pushed the close button on the door panel. Slowly, the huge blast door closed. Ghoel pressed the eject button on the panel, and Trisha heard the sound of outside door opening. Through the viewport, she saw the sack freeze up in seconds. It knocked against a small asteroid and smashed into frozen bits. “Hando’s in the cockpit”, sighed Ghoel, and he slid across the ceiling back over to the common room. Trisha stared at the bits of the bag, and identified the frozen husks of several creatures. She stood there, silently, for a moment, before turning and heading down the corridor.



Hando wiped the sweat from his brow. He picked up a mirror and stared at his reflection. His green duros face appeared bland and pale, and his eyes glinted like those of a tired rancor. He sighed. At least he’d finished with the problems in the hold. Where the sarlacci had come from was completely beyond him. He and Ghai had searched the hold, and found no holes in the hull. The creatures could not have come from outer space, that much was clear. Hando wondered whether they had been snuck aboard by the pirates they had battled in the Tatoo system. Wherever those monsters came from, the important thing was that they were gone now. The door slid open and Ghai entered. He set his huge body down in the Co-pilot chair. His eyelashes were fluffy and pearl; the Herglic must have just got out of the shower. Ghai sat back and breathed out, and then breathed in deeply. He took a bite of the meat chop he was holding. “What ‘sat” grunted Hando. Ghai chuckled, his deep voice vibrating through the cockpit. “Take a guess”, he laughed. “What... oh no! You serious?! “Yep”, laughed Ghai, “Sarlacc” Hando didn’t respond to that. He felt his stomach turn over in his body. He couldn’t believe Ghai had actually cooked and eaten one of the creatures that had nearly killed him, even if he was the biggest and was probably starving the most. He ignored Ghai. As well as finally repairing the life support, Hando had got some of his sensor equipment back online. The engine worked anyway. It had worked the whole time. Unfortunately, both hyperdrive and backup hyperdrive were completely destroyed. Hando smirked at the irony of taking a million years to get out of here with the sublight drive, when he could have taken as little as an hour in hyperspace. With his tired hand, Hando activated the engine. A large asteroid field came up on the scope, a few million miles away. Hando cursed under his breath. In the background, Ghai took another bite of his roasted sarlacci. If they had the hyperdrive, it would take a few seconds to get there, but with this lowly sublight drive, it would take nearly a day. Realizing he had no other choice, Ghai started the engines, and the Distant Horizons sped into space. Satisfied he turned and left the cockpit. Earlier that day, he had laughed at Ghai for thinking the Gravity generators were malfunctioning. Now, he was sure they were indeed failing. He could back flip through the air now and jump all the way up into the sleeping quarters. He was surprised how much easier life was without the gravity, but he was aware that too long in space could lead to serious ailments. But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. Now, he desperately needed sleep. He lay in his bed. As he lay there he thought of Trisha. He had wanted to marry her, and he hoped she was still with him. He had neglected her, that much was clear, and he knew she had noticed that. But now that they had air again, he would warm to her again. Yes, he would warm to her. Hando was deep in thought, and he slowly drifted to sleep.