Putting the [i]Bonaventure[/i] into a free-fall had seemed to be a good idea at the time- and indeed the strategy was successful in conserving their fuel to some degree- but their brief encounter with zero gravity had left the interior of the ship in disarray. Engineering protocols mandated that even freighter vessels such as the one Solae and Rene had stolen from slavers be designed with the understanding there would be turbulence. Weightlessness, however, was not a testing simulation for manufacturing nor considered with design. It had been determined centuries ago that artificial gravity was best for traversing the universe and thus no one anticipated any reason their galleys, crew quarters, or cockpits meet pre-empire standards of adventuring astronauts. Solae had sighed at the foodstuffs, tools, and trivial necessities strewn about before rising from her seat and sorting them methodically. Rationally she knew this was just an inconvenience but her heart took it was yet another sign she had made grave mistakes.

"I'm not in the mood, Rene," she called out as she picked up an old-fashioned bar of soap that had escaped its holder in the shower and tucked it back into place. "The last thing I need to see is how damaged the ship is," the marquise admitted to herself aloud. She had assumed the sounds of him forcing the ramp to descend, then the fading thudding noise of his boots upon metal, were indicative of a much-needed survey of the exterior. No one ever claimed had ever claimed the piercing through a typhoon was in the best interests of interstellar spacecraft. There was bound to be some repercussions for their risky endeavors.

Staying inside was her attempt to willfully ignore the pain that came from reflecting upon their circumstances with cynicism. Most would have been like Rene, celebrating their victory with a mixture of relief and excitement, but Solae's overtaxed optimism was crashing as spectacularly as their method of transportation had not fifteen minutes earlier. After landing she felt jittery, ill, numb, fatigued, and frustrated both at the challenge and the imperfect results. Nobility was groomed with high expectations that nothing they did, said, or made should be anything less than flawless, and yet the [i]Bonaventure[/i]'s current state was a loss contained inside the triumph for an aristocrat. Solae was realizing what a poor loser she was, how badly she accepted any perceived failure, and how much pride she had left to be wounded.

Allies. Though the linguist had Rene, for whom she was eternally grateful, there were no other lasting bonds that would help carry them towards successfully fleeing to a safe sector. The Syshin of Amber Horizon lacked the sophisticated communication equipment necessary to call upon other of their species on nearby planets- as humanity was justly paranoid opening lines between settlements could lead to coups- and so each encampment would require another foray into diplomatic exchanges. The Parks had temporarily assisted the couple but made their intentions to stay on New Concordia, and out of the skirmishes of the war, quite clear. Mia was a synthetic consciousness and her programming was less dependable than the human heart but technically she was an ally for now.

Transport. The [i]Bonaventure[/i] was functional but undeniably in a state of disrepair even before they hurtled through a hurricane to the surface of Panopontus. To have the ship in perfect working order would require a substantial amount of currency, components and replacements that she was uncertain would be easily located or purchased, and repairs that would take time and expertise. Assuming there was not significant damage sustained that would leave them stranded on the oceanic world, any business or individuals they sought out for assistance would likely have questions why it had such unusual owners (if they did not recognize Solae immediately from the posted bounty).

Warning to Capella. Their plan to send Rene's father a message was the best chance of relaying the urgency of the situation, but with each passing day the rebellion would strengthen their grip on the sector, and the longer it took them to get to a communication array the more doubts that Solae had any correspondence would make a significant difference. The full force of the empress's fleet was breathtaking but it was not the only factor in a war. Battalions could wipe out the treasonous Duke if his forces were rooted in only a few cities but so long as the empire was ignorant of crimes he had a potent advantage. Outposts of marines could be ambushed and murdered, just as Rene's had, and he could conquer with little resistance.

The more she remunerated on Panopontus the more bleak their outlook seemed. She was skeptical they could find sympathetic souls here, or resources, or information, or means to get to a communication array. Biting her lip lightly she considered once more that Rene would, in fact, be better without his identifiable golden-haired fiancee. If he settled nearby he could forge a new identity, obtain gainful employment, and start over with little risk of discovery. The marquise was in no rush to abandon their mission but she was starting to become convinced that some, if not all, of their goals might be too lofty for reality.