Hyperspace swirled like a tempest tunnel, intangeable and radiant above him, stretching off to infinity in the distance. Blues and hues swam about, weaving together the spiral river down which the Astral Queen sailed. The physics was incomprehensible; it was as if the very fabric of the universe had become unstuck, and flowed around them in some inconcievable form.

Amos witnessed none of it. His lids lay closed across his hazel eyes, arms wrapped across his chest and lips slightly parted as his shallow breaths kept his unconscious body sustained, oxygen reacting with his brain to spark a subconscious world of imagination that played out behind his eyes. He had been in space far too long to find the spectacle of Hyperspace unsettling or intreguing; now, he simply found it soothing, and the wash of colours across him invariably lulled him to sleep.

A harsh tone sounded from the console, and robbed him of his tranquility. He stirred, and grunted, the boots that rested against the rim of the console shifting slightly as he squirmed in semi-conscious comfort into the padding of the pilot's chair. It continued, with infuriating persistance. An eye peeled over; glanced at the display. Hyperspace warning. Three minutes. Force damn it.

With reluctance, his heels unhooked from their perch and settled back towards the deck, motion levering his body until he sat upright. He shuffled, back and legs attempting to grind out the divets that his apparently several hours of odd-posed slumber had generated. He dug the heel of a palm into an eye socket; withdrew it and attempted to blink away the fogginess that covered his vision. The indicator selected a new frequency, no doubt vocalising the frustrations of the NaviComputer. Another grunt escaped him as he jammed a digit into the control that would silence it.

Adjusting himself into something resembling a comfortable position, he glanced once again at the scrolling chrono that counted down their time until arrival at the pre-set coordinates; reaching across the console, he grabbed the headset hooked around the comm controls, and brought the microphone vaguely close to his mouth. "We're about to drop out of Hyperspace," he advised, depressing the PTT key that glowed amber beneath his touch. "Might wanna get up here."

Discarding the periferal without another thought, he turned his attentions back to the controls, and went through the muscle memory motions of preparing the ship for rapid decceleration as it reverted into Realspace. He hauled back on a handle, and Hyperspace exploded, fragmenting into a firework of pinprick lights that spread outwards and dissolved away amongst the stars. Without the cool blue glow washing down through the viewport, the cockpit was plunged into comparative darkness. He jabbed at a few controls, and the artificial lighting kicked in; a twitch of roll from the flight yoke and the Astral Queen tumbled sidewards, the dull and dirty orb of Skako tumbling into view. A few more adjustments oriented them on a course towards a vague orbit, sublight engines firing to hurl them across the thousands of kilometres that still separated the two bodies.

Amos' nose wrinkled at the sight before him. The world looked even less welcoming than Raxus Prime. He only hoped Jaden would be able to forgive him for subjecting his precious ship to the intense pressures of the Skakoan atmosphere; he'd been unnerved enough as it was by the extra sheen and tint that the Queen had collected last time Amos had generously volunteered her for another interstellar endeavour.

Letting the ship fall into the grip of the planet's gravity, he compensated with a little thrust, and waited for Tionne to provide instructions on where to go next.