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Vincent awaited his return to Coruscant as the 7th Division Fleet moved through hyperspace. The Black Dragon and two Shadow Destroyers led the fleet with many other Large Battle Curisers moved through the tunnel hoping to get to Coruscant soon. He knew eventually the few allies left with the Republic would send their forces as well.

The Spirit of Fire drifted through space, now far less than it once had been. Of course, it had never been much to begin with. The vessel was leaking fuel and reactor coolant, though it wasn't much of a problem as the reactor had been inoperative for some time now. The sole occupant was making every possible repair, but with no vacuum suits, there was no way he would be able to repair the damage done to the ship's exoskeleton, and he would not be able to bring it through a planet's atmosphere.

Jon couldn't help but wonder why he had agreed to help find that damnable Sith. The search had been a fruitless endeavor, and the Jedi had up and vanished. Meanwhile, Jon had once again been left to fend for himself against a horde of criminals who were itching to convert Jon's particles into mush. If it hadn't been for the timely arrival of the Miraluka A'besh, whom the Jedi had "wisely" shunned, Jon would be that very same mush. However the Miraluka and he had been separated during the fighting and he feared for the man's safety, but not as much as he feared for his own life. After making it back to his ship he had punched into orbit, only to be ambushed by a surprisingly large number of bad guys who wanted to see him explode into so many pretty little chunks. They nearly had him until they lost interest. Apparently most of their bosses decided that it wasn't worth killing him after he had killed about thirty of their guys.

Now he was attempting to survive long enough to reach some sort of space station where he could possibly fix his bloody ship. He was also in the middle of nowhere, as far as he knew. The hyperdrive had shut down during transit, so now he was stranded in a hyperspace route between systems. If someone didn't get his distress beacon he was as good as dead, or worse. Jon had seen what became of those who drifted outside of the safe travel lanes. There were beings out there that even the most sadistic of Hutts were afraid of. Let's just say that the results were never pretty.

He worked his way through the power core, fighting against time. He only had a few more hours of breathable air left, and if he didn't reroute power to the life support system, it wouldn't matter if anyone got his message. So far he had been able to seal off most of the ship and power down those sections, so that meant that very little of the vessel was pressurized. It also meant that he might just have enough energy to sustain the life support until he could reroute the energy supply going to the weapons systems to Life Support. Thank god none of the external relays had been hit. He promised himself that if he was rescued, he was going to buy or build full armor for this bird. He wasn't going to chance another encounter like this again. Maybe he would be able to go to the Kuat Drive Yards, after all, the Spirit was one of their Light transports. Perhaps they would be able to refit her. Of course it would gouge a very large chunk out of his purse, but well, he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to stay in the here and now, making sure that he lived to see the future. The only fully operational system on the ship was the communications system, sending out a repeating S.O.S. call. Hopefully someone would hear it. Who knows, maybe it would get as far as Coruscant, such as close proximity to ships in FTL transit had strange effects on subspace communications.

Something came into contact with the outer hull, causing a very loud clang to reverberate through the tattered endostructure. After a slightly mind-numbing headache subsided, Jon realized that he must have friends on high. It was then that he noticed that the Communications suite was chirping. He accessed the log and found that whatever had connected to his vessel had sent him an automated hail. Jon responded with a short but well-thought out thank you and asked if he could meet face to face with his "saviour". He figured that it would be safer to negotiate in person than over the COM, after all, the guy couldn't just leave the system if Jon was on his ship or visa-versa. Besides, this way he could try to barter passage to the Kuat Drive Yards or to some space station.

After receiving the docking info, Jon channeled power to the maneuvering thrusters and moved the wreck slowly toward the larger ship. After hearing the familiar docking rumble and a slightly worrying crunch, he stripped and donned a liquid armor under suit. It wasn't much, but it would protect him a little bit. It was good for one, maybe two blaster hits, but a direct shot and he was screwed. He put his clothes on over it, once again looking like an ordinary man. He placed his lightsaber in his tool belt, hiding it among hyrdospanners, plasma cutters, and sonic screwdrivers. He tugged on his coat to help smooth out the wrinkles and pressurized the hallway to the docking ring. When he arrived he was relieved to see that it was still operational, and he passed through the breach onto the "rescue ship". Hopefully the occupant(s) of this ship were at the very least polite.

"First of all I want to thank you again, and in person for your assistance, though I would stop the fuel transfer ASAP, as my ship is leaking the stuff all over space. Now about my ship, let's just say that an acquaintance of mine left me to fend for myself against a few angry Hutts. Who were, as usual, upset at someone else, but I was the easiest target to take their anger out on."
Jon sat in a chair across from the man and reclined slightly, trying to work a knot out of his left shoulder through a subtle manipulation of the force. It wasn't working very well so he stopped, he wasn't a Jedi healer and he didn't want to accidentally crush something important.
"Basically I'm lucky to be alive. And luckier still to have someone find me in the middle of nowhere. Now what I'm going to ask may sound ridiculous, but would it be possible for you to tow my ship to either the Kuat Drive Yards or to a space station where I can make the necessary repairs? I don't have much in the way of money, but I hope we can work something out."

"I'm a photographer of sorts. Freelance. Most of my stuff is s**t but it pays. I have a talent for getting into places where I'm not supposed to be, namely the middle of highly illegal transactions."
He chuckled slightly then momentarily frowned. If this man didn't know the location of the Kuat Drive Yards, there was a good chance he had never navigated or flown a ship before, because the KDY was generally in the NAVcomp. Jon suddenly became wary of this man, perhaps he wasn't alone out here.
"It's in the Kuat system, and if you can get me as far as that I make due on my own. The coordinates should be in you NAVcomp. Look, are you some sort of practical joker? Kuat and its subsidiaries are one of the largest ship yards in the known galaxy."

"I can wire cash to you once we reach civilization if that's what you were looking for." Jon said as he braced himself. There was something odd about this man, and he intended to find out what it was. It was then that he realized they hadn't actually introduced themselves. He wasn't going to give anything out first, instead he asked first.
"What's your name?"