As the ship's loading ramp elevated, Yerbol responded:
[i]Something tells me that we're going to have an easier time with this one. See that flag mounted above those storage units?[/i] The symbol of the Republic was emblazoned on the red and blue colored banner, fluttering gently due to the cooling system being on full blast. Speaking of which, it was FREEZING onboard...so cold that even Yerbol, someone who was known for his affinity towards cold temperatures, was beginning to feel his teeth chattering involuntarily. After clenching his jaw for a few moments to get the involuntary response under control, he spoke to Aria through their link: 
[i]Hope that the conditions of her ship match what her personality is like.[/i] He shot her a smirk just as a buttery smooth voice came over the intercom:
"You two need to get up to the cockpit. I've got marching orders for you." The severity of the command didn't match up with the overall tonal quality of what Yerbol had just heard. The voice was melodic in nature, carrying a subtle tune in every syllable the pilot spoke. It was odd to hear the mismatch, especially coming from someone who was hired out by a Sith Lord. 
"Right, on our way." There was a half moon shaped corridor that branched out into other similarly shaped hallways, but following the main hall put them in an open space, a large, circular projector in the center of the room with a galaxy map hovering mid-air in the middle of the projector. 
"Keep going." Going forward into a shorter hallway, they emerged into the cockpit, where a shock of vibrant red hair was visible, curls sticking out at various angles. The disembodied mound of hair spoke, the ship lurching off the ground:
"I don't care if you have the Force, know how to use a lightsaber or can destroy planets with your pinkie, you're on my ship now. That means you do what I say until we get to where we need to go. Either that or I can dump you off at the nearest spaceport and explain why two fugitives should be allowed free access to their planet...not to mention having to deal with Roan. I wouldn't want to be on his bad side." The ship groaned into the blackness of space, pulling away from the planet and into hyperspace a couple of minutes later. The hair turned around in the chair to reveal a pleasantly rounded face complimented by a smooth jaw and almost perfectly set light blue eyes that cast a knowing glare into the very essence of the one being looked at. There were lines of worry that showed up very slightly on her forehead, but when a half smile formed on her lips, dimples appeared. 

She was, in a phrase, the most adorable looking mercenary Yerbol had ever seen. 

Couple her face with the sleeveless green shirt and compressed black pants, adorable would turn into another phrase entirely, one which he didn't feel like sharing in a bond between he and Aria. 

"Ok kids, here's what we're doing: we're headed to a moon off of Kashyyyk. It'll take about a day to get there, so in the meantime, just keep the volume down and don't stab anything onboard, including me. That'd be appreciated. There's some food and water for you guys in the guest quarters just to the left of the war room and...well, that's it."
"Don't suppose we get the name of our imposed babysitter?" Yerbol playfully quipped. The woman smirked, rising and patting Yerbol's cheek gently with her right hand. 
"All you need to know is that I'm the difference between you dying in a hole somewhere in Wild Space and surviving this mess." She plopped back down and spun around in her chair, placing her feet on the control panel. 
"Well, what are you two still doing here? Let me at least get some shuteye."
"Not before we convince you to help us." A laugh floated through the air. 
"Aren't I doing that already?" 
"You know what's going on, then? The hunt for Jedi, Sith, anyone that can use the Force?"
"Of course. Just mentioned it, didn't I?"
"Then you know that there's going to be survivors who need our help." A groan, the woman turning her head. 
"They don't need your help, kiddo. They're all dead or will be dead in the next few days. Better to let this mass panic go over our heads so we can live to fight another day."
"And who's going to fight off the Sith? Me, Ari and you? Two young Force users and a mercenary?" Her face recoiled, brow shooting up.
"Merc? I'll have you know that I was fighting Imperial Spec ops troopers before you were given a toy saber to train with." She spat on the ground, then added: 
"People know how to rally when they need to. They'll find you when they're good and ready. Now is the time to duck and run."
"Right, so you ARE a merc." She shot out of her chair, hands in fists.
"Don't you DARE lump me into that group. I've done my share of fighting, my share of sacrificing! I don't need some twenty something year old Jedi with an ego the size of Coruscant to tell me who I am!" 
"Running? Taking on smuggling fugitives for a Sith Lord? How could someone who still venerates the Republic to this day fall so far?" Her jaw jutted out, right fist raising for a brief moment, then lowered.
"Ok, fine. You've baited me, got me off kilter and all emotional when I shouldn't have. Not easy to ruffle my feathers, so I'll at least hear you out. What do you both want from me and why on the name of all that's right in the universe should I listen?"