RNV STELLAR WIND
WILD SPACE
Occurs between A Dance of Veils and Embers in the Ash
This mission had ended up longer than Vizion Trozky was expecting. Scouting the prospective route for the Five Veils had been uneventful, and he was there to pick up on nuance. But right now, while transiting to the last proposed point of the route, he had nothing but time to kill. Time he’d been filling, in part, on the holo with his brother.
Dominic Praxon, who was regaling him with the events of the evening he’d missed, being out here. An evening the Brentaalan Jedi had somewhat planned for, entirely arranging for the dress he meant Briana Sal-Soren to wear… he could only hope there would be another opportunity, or that she would let him make one.
A constraint that wore on him more and more as time passed.
Soon enough, Dominic spilled the outcome of the night’s events, visited upon him by Briana's sister, Bastila Sal-Soren. "So. Bastila slapped me. And she kissed me. Not in that order." Vizion grinned maliciously, unable to help the light snicker that came out of him. “Sounds familiar,” after all, the same had happened to him, months ago. He shook his head, “These Sal-Soren women,” bearing the look of having more to say at the tip of his tongue, but the ship reverted from jump-space, and almost immediately, the ship's comm blared, causing him to swallow those waiting words.
He was needed on the bridge, urgently. Vizion looked away from the holo, his eyes narrowing, perceiving… “Well, shit.” His eyes widened to normal, and he turned back to the feed of his brother. “Something's up. Catch ya later.”
It wasn't the first time he'd cut a call with Dominic like that: the years were peppered with sudden shifts in various situations, an occasional fact of Jedi life. He left his quarters on the vessel, and made his way to the bridge, at a brisk pace, to where he was granted a view of what was at the end of a hunch that had him informing the captain before the jump to stop where they now had.
His brisk walk slowed. It could have been a fresh hyperspace disturbance or some other mystery, but… a planet? Vizion walked up beside Captain Ortal.
“So good of you to join us, Master Jedi.”
Vizion didn’t even give him the courtesy of a look, drawn in as he was by the unexpected world showing on the forward viewport. He sunk into the Force, just enough to catch a glimpse beneath the atmosphere, only for what he didn't see in that sliver of meditative foresight to be narrated by what scans had found, which was cued to happen by the Captain.
“The inhabitants of this planet appear to live in a… pre-industrial society, Master Jedi, judging by the lack of markers indicating any form of hyperspace travel, large or small-scale manufacturing,” she sounded awed, “It’s unprecedented. There’s no record of this place existing.”
The Jedi surfaced from his brief meditative stance, glanced at the Captain, then back to the woman, around his age, who had just been speaking.
“None?”
“None so far as the maps I have access to here, Master Jedi. Nothing that fits its description.”
Vizion hmmed. As strange as the undiscovered status of this world was, it was less strange that it was here in front of them at all, where there shouldn’t have been anything, according to maps predating the Planeshift. Maps that were increasingly becoming less relevant, only semi-reliable. Slowly, reports had been coming in from various avenues of planets or entire systems missing, only to have been found relocated to another place. If they were found as of yet.
“It would be prudent, Captain,” he returned his attention to Ortal, “that the existence of this world is kept quiet. Secure channels,” his eyebrows lifted, “chain of command and all that? Take a record, return home, confer with our people before any action is taken.”
Word getting out could invite colonists. Refugees. Unscrupulous prospectors, or worse. He returned his gaze to the unnamed world of pockmarked green, feeling an uncomfortable pit in his stomach. What right would anyone have to disturb this place?
“If any at all.”
