Deneba: All Roads Lead Somewhere [PM to join]

[Tyl Ro]

When looking to the future, a common practice was to reflect on the past. By observing the achievements and mistakes of earlier generation's previous attempts, it was possible to gain a perspective that had previously not been considered. If a path led to failure before, was it still doomed to fail? If a path led to success, were the gains worth the journey? Consequences and sacrifices made by the galaxy's ancestors at the time might have seemed to be of value to the situation they faced, but when looked upon by the objective eyes of the galaxy's descendants, did that value still hold merit? Even if events between the two times were dissimilar, the events themselves were often inconsequential. How wars were fought and won or lost, how treaties were conceived and ratified or terminated. The names and places and things that filled historical annals of heroes and villains, battles and documents, all were crude descriptions of a much more luminous exchange: the exchange of emotion and of thought.

For much of her life, Tyl had believed that this kind of reflection was beneficial to one's own progression. If she was able to tap into the universe's collective experience, experience that far outweighed the amount she would ever reach in her singular lifetime, then the Kaminoan could gain understanding. She would be able to approach a situation and assess it objectively, as she had done with the galaxy's history, and devise an informed solution, one that properly weighed the multitudes of possible outcomes. Tyl relied on the belief that time worked in cycles. Both strife and peace were recurring motives. Even change and revolution were part of that cycle. While they were not entirely predictable, a path could always be uncovered for any impasse. Reflecting on the past was a crucial tool for uncovering that proper path.

The Jedi was becoming less sure of her previous certainty.

The woman sat on a rocky mountainside, her gaze scanning a horizon filled with more mountains, ranges stretching out in front of her. From the peaks to the basins the landscape was painted with a myriad of reds, oranges, and browns. Behind her sat some well-trafficked ruins, picked over time and again by treasure hunters, archaeologists, and tourists. The stone structures were once meeting places where Jedi gathered. The buildings had been carved out of the rock faces of the mountains. Despite their sturdy design, millennia prior, the structures were reduced to rubble in an assault on the world. Many things had been left behind, but after so long, debris was the only thing remaining. Debris and remembrance.

[member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Travot Ravenna]

VCX-350 Plainswalker, Deneba

"Why am I here?"

An almost languid breeze passed down the rolling red-brown hills to brush up against the man's course cloak, causing it to gently ripple around his ankles. He leaned up against one of the ramp's greasy hydraulic supports and pulled out his datapad. It's the right time, and the right coordinates...where is she? As if to answer him, he watched a small fountain of dust fly up in the distance. Travot squinted as he tried to pick out the speeding vehicle. Too big to be a speeder bike, must be a landspeeder...I think that's a good sign. Still, his right hand sank down to grasp the comforting cold hilt of his master's lightsaber. It was the middle of nowhere, after all. He gripped it firmly as the boxy landspeeder came to a halt in front of him.

A pencil-thin woman wearing a pair of khaki overalls and thin green shirt jumped out. She eyed him warily with her eyes before shaking her head.

"You're not him," sighed the woman, shaking her head, "why did Lars give you this job?"

Travot blinked, "Inyri, right?"

"Yes, " nodded the brunette, "Sorry I'm late, a couple of my nerfs got loose. You got their antibiotics?"

"Yes," nodded Travot, "Doc Lars told me to give you his regards."

"Well maybe he should have sent someone else if he meant that," said the brunette, striding up the ramp.

"Have I offended you somehow, miss?"

She blushed as she glanced over the duraplast crates and shook her head.

"Sorry, but I have a favorite courier, and you're not him. He's actually handsome."

"Lars said that the regular courier was out visiting a sick relative."

"And how did he manage to get you in this gig? Not many people come this way..."

"I was just passing through Beris on my way up north."

"So you run a tramp freighter I take it..."

Travot nodded as he grabbed one of the crates, "Is there a good place to pick up some work around here?"

"Hate to say it," said Inyri, grabbing another crate, "but Deneba isn't exactly the kind of place for your type. Not a whole lot of industry or work on this part of the world But you may have some luck on the other half if you fly to the Meru Spaceport at the base of Mount Meru."

"What's there?"

"Tourists mostly," replied the woman, setting down a crate in her landspeeder, "people come to see the sight of the old Jedi conclave. A battle took place that started a galactic wide war you know. I bet there's some bohemian wanderer type there who'll need a ride off Deneba. Maybe a couple of merchants and business people who need some goods for the visitors there."

"Thanks Inyri."

She nodded before hopping back in her landspeeder and driving away. Travot slipped his hand in his pocket, grasping the cred chips that Doc Lars had handed him for the delivery job. Well, best get to the Meru Spaceport and see what I can find. I can probably get to Shador with these, but it never hurts to have more of them. Some things never change, huh? I wonder who I'll find there. He strolled up the ramp of his ship and prepared to fly over to the Meru Spaceport.

[member="Tyl Ro"]

 

[Tyl Ro]

Travelling via public transports over major hyperroutes was one of the best ways to be removed from material responsibility. There were no ships or vehicles to purchase, maintain, or pay the various usage fees that exist such as for docking, landing, or fueling. With no vessel, there were no decorations, decals, or cosmetic upgrades that could be done. For the more well traveled of vagabonds, the number of possessions that could be carried from one location to the next and so on would need to be within the realm of possibility for personal carriage. The lack of ownership in such cases could be freeing from a burden that could lead to unnecessary hoarding and eventually gluttony. This freedom could also lead to a different perspective on the concept of ownership itself, and whether or not anyone truly possessed any thing.

And yet, a vagabond without a ship relied on their own legs and the interplanetary infrastructure to move around, both of which were limiting factors. Terrain varied from world to world, some could handle water, others felt more comfortable on dry land, and so on. And civilian transport was never particularly reliable, especially considering the fragmented state of a galaxy divided by political and territorial disputes. Some, perhaps, might see such a box as the opposite of freedom, a restraint that reduced absolute choice to a selective choice. Other times, a choice wasn't available at all, simply an inevitability one would be forced to accept no matter what the circumstance.

With complete control, there was order. With complete freedom, there was chaos. But one could not exist without the other. To balance order and chaos required not only responsibility, but also spontaneity.

Tyl was beginning to recognize the necessity for the latter more and more. She had spent a good portion of her formative years attempting to place logic and reason upon the inexplicable. But, as the Jedi proverb went: the Force works in mysterious ways. Predicting the future was not always a matter of certainty, and no matter how often she looked at the past, there would be times when she would be faced with situations that no other being had. When these freak occurrences appeared, how flexible would her perspective allow for being? How easily could she, as the colloquialism went, go with the flow?

Her first step to going with the flow was accepting her fate. Whatever this new galaxy was, she would need to face it. The second step had been removing her avenue of what she viewed as both complete freedom and complete control. By selling her ship, not only could she not control her path entirely on her own, she was not able to travel freely. Tyl merely picked the direction.And so, making stop after stop along the Gamor Run, she came upon Deneba. The Jedi did away with her reflection, leaving the ancient history to the tourists. Tyl had already learned those lessons, and they would not aid her in discovering this new place. It was the present that she sought, though the woman was still undecided on where she should look.

As the Kaminoan sat, rather awkwardly seeing as the bench was designed for species much shorter than she was, she felt a presence approach in the Force. While there was life all around her, this particular presence had a much greater potential that the others. She had been tentative to drop her Force Stealth as she traveled. However, the closer she came to Republic space, the further she allowed her Senses to relax and stretch, only calling her power to heel when journeying to a new place. This aura seemed unpolished, rough. She kept herself cautious and at bay nonetheless. The Jedi tracked a freighter arriving to the small port near the historical site, from which she believed the presence to have emanated. Tyl returned her gaze to the horizon, and allowed her own aura to give off feelings of passivity and serenity.

[member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Travot Ravenna]

The sun rose up on the horizon as the Plainswalker briefly crossed the night-day divide, bathing the battered freighter in a spectacular golden light. But that borrowed glory quickly faded as the freighter sped forward towards the rising mass of Mount Meru. Travot turned his emerald eyes to briefly consider the sun's ascent through the pale blue sky. It reminded him of the mornings he spent with old master Wurth. They had watched the sun rise on the distant worlds of the Unknown Regions almost daily. At first, he felt that they watched the sunrise to gain some inner peace, to recognize just how little they were in the grand scheme of the Galaxy and the Force. But as Wurth had shown him time and time again, the simple acts of nature could be meditated on to learn any number of enlightening lessons.

But one reflection came to mind almost immediately.

We cannot move that sun Travot. I doubt even the strongest Jedi or Sith in the galaxy could do that, no matter long they studied or tried. Yet the sun rises every day, and it will do so even after we and our descendants are long gone. We are only passing specks of consciousness in the great sea of life. We cannot alter the grand scheme of the Galaxy, we can only float among its currents. Never forget that Travot.

He tried to shake the thoughts from his head as the Plainswalker soared towards Mount Meru, but still the thoughts lingered there. Normally he would have indulged in such a remembrance of his time with that old master, but he felt that he had to focus exclusively on flying. Crashing or colliding with another vessel over the spaceport would catastrophic for him and everyone around him. But a somehow familiar yet foreign presence continued to flow around at him gently. Travot gently coaxed the controls of the freighter to bring it to rest on a circular landing pad covered with a fine film of red dust. He quickly flipped a series of controls. The buzz of the freighter's interior fell silent. Ravenna could only shake his head.

"I must really be getting nostalgic," muttered the man, "It feels like he's right here again, waiting for me to pick up after a long hike in the wilderness..."

He blinked. That's because I am feeling something. The man closed his eyes, began to slowly breathe, and focused on the nearby aura. His felt his will flow through the Force to connect with the new aura. It radiated a certain serenity not unlike Wurth's, yet he knew it was not that of his old master's. Could it be another jedi?

That thought seemed foreign to him. The large man had wandered around the edge of the galaxy, and despite their prominence in the galactic news, he had never encountered another force user. Travot found himself curious about the presence but briefly hesitated. It can't be a Sith, can it? Wouldn't they feel different in the Force from a jedi? I have never heard of a calm Sith before...He quickly realized the error in that logic, yet his curiosity still overcame his wariness about meeting another force-user.

He strolled over to the freighter's ramp, slapped a button on the bulkhead, and watched the ship's ramp lower to the ground with a dull thud. The cool, recycled air of the starship's interior began to mingle and swirl with the scents of the warm local air. He briefly reveled in it before striding down the ramp and onto the hard ground of Deneba's surface. His mind barely registered the fact that he closed the ship's ramp before he plunged into the foot traffic around the spaceport. Normally he would have taken to observing the myriad of peoples and droids which thronged around the transportation system, yet nearly all of his thoughts fell upon the nearby aura.

Finally, the large man arrived to stand before a bench on which [member="Tyl Ro"] sat. Travot's emerald-like eyes flickered briefly as he tried to recall her species, before he settling on kaminoan. She doesn't look like a Sith. He conspiratorially glanced around to see if anyone else was observing them. They were not. He quietly cleared his throat and leaned his head towards her.

"Excuse me, but are you...are you a Jedi?"

 

[Tyl Ro]

For all the planets to which Tyl's journey had led thus far, none of the others along the Gamor Run had yielded any Force Sensitives. Like many things, Sensitivity was a spectrum, with no true absolute or limit on one end. The other end of the spectrum had a hard floor, where the Force Dead, or Force Absent as Tyl considered them, lay. These were those who had been stripped of any connection to the Force entirely, like the Yuuzhan Vong. On average, the majority of every planet's population had an incredibly limited connection to the Force, and occupied the lowest ends of the spectrum. Low enough, and the subtlety was difficult to interpret. Only when an individual crossed into the Force Sensitive threshold were they naturally easier to detect. She was not entirely surprised that the closer she came to the territory that the Jedi occupied, eventually one would cross her path.

Tyl smiled pleasantly as the young man approached her. She had not called out to him through the Force, or announced her presence in any way. She simply had made no effort to hide herself. The woman had not felt any other strong Force presences in the vicinity of the entire port. So she had allowed her familiar need to be overly cautious fade into passively cautious. While not particularly bustling, the spaceport on Mount Meru held thousands of sentient beings. Yet the man had searched her out specifically. That this human male could recognize her simply from the aura that the Kaminoan projected was proof enough that he had some sort of knowledge of the Force. At the very least, he could reach out through the Force of his own will. He had also asked if she were Jedi. Tyl had no idea how pervasive the knowledge of Jedi or Sith would be to those of this galaxy, but her guess that he led by assuming she was Jedi meant that he could also read her presence well enough to recognize intent.

She was unsure, though, how much the young man actually knew about the Force. The air about him was unrefined, despite his ability to use a skill he could only have garnered through training. Force Sense was one of the first techniques that a youngling would learn. While Tyl was not as familiar with human physiology as her own, she could at least tell that this young man was far older than the typical age for a youngling. He could be a Padawan learner. All the same, Tyl could feel no malice from him, only guarded curiosity. She was curious herself and the Kaminoan welcomed the chance for conversation.

"Jedi?" she responded, her smile unphased. "There were some who called me Jedi. Yes." Her green eyes locked with his. "You've no need for concern. I sense no ill will around us. Though not drawing needless attention is always wise." Tyl motioned to the empty portion of the bench beside her, offering him a place to sit. "How could you tell?"

[member="Travot Ravenna"]

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot took the proferred seat next to [member="Tyl Ro"].

"How could I tell..." repeated the susevfian quietly, "I couldn't...well...not exactly. I'm just coming back to civilization so to speak, after training with my mentor on the fringes of the known galaxy. One of the things old Master Wurth taught me was to heighten my senses and attune them to my surroundings through the Force. He taught me how the Force binds all living things together, and how they are all connected in the chain of life. I learned to feel the environment around me to better survive in the wilderness. Knowing the difference between the presences of kilomiga and a langlatch told me I could relax or if I had to draw my weapon to defend myself. I had to know my master's presence, and his mine, so that we could easily find each other if we got separated on those backwater worlds. I thought for a few seconds that just maybe, I had felt his presence when I arrived here. It seemed familiar in a way, even if it wasn't the same. And now I know why you felt so similar in the currents of the Force: you too are a jedi.

I'm Travot, by the way, but many of my friends call me Adrian. Who are you?"

 

[Tyl Ro]

The Kaminoan listened intently to the story that [member="Travot Ravenna"] related to her. A part of her mind felt a little off, however. Where she came from it was dangerous for a Jedi to be seen in public. The concern wasn't whether or not anyone could recognize a Jedi, but simply the immense outpouring of hate that the galaxy felt against their kind. The Church had turned all but a few among the stars against any Force user not directly associated with the religion itself. A Jedi from her Order took great risk being on their own. Congregation of any kind could draw unwanted attention. Simply being in public was life-threatening.

Yet there the two of them pleasantly sat. Even without anyone listening in on the conversation that Tyl and her newly found acquaintance were having, the feeling was still one of slight discomfort. She held back from projecting those emotions, carefully guarding anything negative and maintaining her outward positivity. Despite the unease in hte back of her mind, at the same time, being able to converse freely in such a way was also incredibly relieving; to be free of such a great burden. With time, Tyl thought, perhaps that will all seem like a nightmare, distant and fading. She did not feel guilty for the emotions she held regarding the matter. Tyl only idly hoped that the Order in her home galaxy could find some semblance of peace. Though, without ever being able to reconnect to that former life, Tyl would never know, and that was something she chose not to dwell on, a past that she accepted and let dwindle, like the end of a lit wick in a pool of ever-cooling wax.

"I am called Tyl. From a certain point of view, my journey is not unlike your own." The Kaminoan looked out over the horizon. Her smile faded slightly. Tyl spoke stoically, avoiding the use of any sense of yearning in her voice. "My home feels as if it is galaxies away from me now. There, I too had a strong need to learn how to survive, to hone myself in order to aid others in their own pursuit of survival. So I trained. And I learned. And I journeyed." The woman returned her gaze to the young man beside her, her hands placidly folded in her lap. Tyl's pleasant smile returned, warmer than before. "And somehow, my path led me here. Where will your path take you?"

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot listened intently to the Kaminoan as she briefly spoke. But it was not only through his ears. Experience had taught him to glean every bit of information he could of a person he had just met. Sometimes people were not who they said they were. He might have been able to pick up on a few tells with his eyes, if [member="Tyl Ro"] had been human. But she was not. Her presence in the Force didn't seem to change to him either, though he couldn't sure if that was a result of his only rudimentary training in Force Sense, if she was simply skilled in hiding her feelings, or if she had nothing to hide in the first place. Ravenna guessed that it was probably that last one.

"There are many paths to take," murmured Travot slowly, "I thought about returning to home, to Susevfi. But I really don't know anyone there anymore, at least, anyone I'm really close to. Master Wurth was probably the closest thing I had to a friend or father, and now he's gone. But from time to time, he would reminisce about his time with the Jedi Order and the people he used to live with there. I think that I will try and follow in his footsteps to become a jedi knight and protect people. So I've started on my way to Ossus to see if they will accept me. What about you? Have you ever been to Ossus?"

 

[Tyl Ro]

"Ossus..." Tyl repeated, trailing off. After a moment, her head bobbed slowly on her long neck in the imitation of a human nod. "Technically I was born on Ossus. Being a Kaminoan with Force Sensitivity was an incredible feat. Only one other in history was known to have become a Jedi. However, I also had the genetic disposition of green eyes." Her head curved to the side a bit, eyes still statically on [member="Travot Ravenna"]. The woman's smile faded slightly again. "My species are genetic purists. To others, having green eyes might have been no cause for concern, but as a Kaminoan it was a death sentence, even for an unborn child."

Tyl sighed. Breaking her glossy gaze with the young man, she turned again to look back out at the mountain rages of Deneba. "So my parents brought me to Ossus, where I could be born among the Jedi. I didn't remain there for more than a few months. And since, I have only returned once, and then only for a brief time."

She remained quiet for a few moments. A soft but dry breeze flowed over the mountainside and through the small spaceport. The Kaminoan let one of the gentle gusts blow through before continuing. She turned to face the young Jedi once more. "Perhaps I should pay my homeworld a visit. Would you allow me to join you on your journey? I have a few credits to pay for travel expense. However, I can also offer my services as a hired hand aboard your freighter. Does this venture appeal to you?"

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot pondered the thought for a moment. It would be nice to have another person on this trip. Space gets lonely, and it'd be nice to have someone to watch my back in case something goes south. Besides, maybe she can teach me a few things about the Force. Maybe, but I know she'll never be a replacement for Master Wurth. He turned his emerald eyes to gaze upon [member="Tyl Ro"] and nodded.

"I'd be honored if you joined me," answered Travot, "it'll be nice to have someone else around. I'm afraid my ship is a little old, but I've kept it well maintained, and its pretty spacious, especially if it's just the two of us. Do you have anything you need to pick up or do before you leave? I've got enough credits and supplies to get us a couple sectors closer to Ossus, but I'd like to take a look around the port and see if I can find a small job that we can do on our way to Ossus."

 

[Tyl Ro]

The lanky, yet towering woman bowed her head in appreciation to [member="Travot Ravenna"]. "There is nothing that I will need save what I already have." She stood from the bench. The Kaminoan stretched and then relaxed the muscles in her legs and back, breathing slowly and deeply. Tyl had traveled completely on her own since she and Master Dantarius had left Belsavis together. And before that, she had been alone for some time as well since her time aboard Haven. Despite her often solitary nature and enjoying the silence that reclusion brought, having the presence of others was a great boon to the Kaminoan. Conversing and interacting were not always necessary, but simply being there and being familiar with a partner or companion of any kind could enhance her senses, especially in reference to other beings. Empathy was a trait she had had to learn, and the more she removed herself from fellowship, the more distant she felt from understanding others.

Tyl stooped her head slightly to more easily gaze upon her new companion. "My services, whatever they may be, are at your command while we travel to Ossus." In customary human fashion, she extended her hand for the sealing of deals. She found the offer of a handshake to be an odd way to make a binding agreement. But then, humans were often one to require physical displays of bravado in order to prove truth to one another. While she found that thought to be amusing, Tyl did recognize the value of a more tangible pact. After all, a considerable amount of information could be gleaned from how a person carried themselves. In her case, the Jedi's only intent was to show her measure of faith.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot gingerly grasped [member="Tyl Ro"]'s hand and shook it. It was an odd sensation to him, and it wasn't because of the unfamiliar shape of her hands. He had rarely shook hands with anyone on the fringes of space: trust there had been hard to come by, and when it did, it certainly was not from a handshake. Yet the handshake reminded him of his life back in the Mid Rim and galactic civilization. Had it really only three years since he would have thought this had been normal? It had been a normal practice there. Was he really coming back to a more normal life? The padawan was not sure.

"I am going to see if I can find a few jobs," Travot, slipping a hand into his pocket before pulling out a silver cylinder, "This is a remote that will open up my ship. Here, take it, the Plainswalker is in Docking Bay 54. Feel free to make yourself a home there. I'm going to see if I can scrounge up some work before we go."

 

[Tyl Ro]

The Kaminoan bowed her neck again as she accepted the remote from [member="Travot Ravenna"]. "See you again at your ship then," Tyl offered as a brief parting. She pocketed the device among the folds of her long skirt before moving away from the bench where she had sat most of the afternoon. I won't be needing that seat I purchased for the next transport, Tyl mulled idly. No matter. Someone will get extra leg room. She smiled at the thought as she moved off through the mountainside spaceport towards the docking bays and landing pads where she would find her new companions vessel.

The port itself was a tourist trap. The ruins of the ancient Jedi monuments lay off in the distance, still somewhat protected from the consistent foot traffic of the port and its full-time residents. The tourists could easily access the ruins by landspeeders, though transport to and from was probably just another extortion of credits from those unaware. Since anything of value had been stripped from Deneba long ago, the only remains were rubble and history; a history spoken by a third account, someone with a script they didn't write based on an event they had never studied. The town was filled with boutiques and shops selling various knickknacks without material value and proposed, though absent, historical value. There were restaurants that could be found everywhere else in the adjacent sectors and various lodgings with big names and little service.

Vacation was not a thing that ever would have crossed Tyl's mind. Still, a part of her was saddened that this was the fate of the Jedi's history. A racket for profiteers, a lack of reverence for those whose only goal is to protect, and the ignorant view of those outside looking in the wrong place for anything entertaining or enlightening. The woman put it out of her mind. She accepted that this fate was inevitable over time, so far removed from when the events had been relevant. As Tyl had concluded herself, not even she could find a purpose for pondering over rubble and third hand history. Better for it to be used than forgotten completely.

As she came upon the ship, Plainswalker the Padawan had called it, Tyl gazed upon it for a few moments wonderingly before pressing the remote. The loading ramp lowered and she entered, closing the ramp with the remote behind her. The woman slowly scaled into the bowels of the freighter, observing all she could. She came into a decently sized cargo bay. Finding a small lift on the starboard side of the bay, the Kaminoan used it to rise to the second level, apparently meant to be the living space aboard the ship. She easily found her way around the public spaces, to the cockpit, and the engine compartments. She avoided the personal quarters for the moment, choosing instead to sit on the floor of the spacious common room. Tyl placed the remote on the table, closed her eyes, crossed her legs, and began to meditate.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot wandered around the streets of the port.

It was depressing to see a such an ancient tragedy was still being exploited.

He briefly wondered how many Jedi had stopped by the world over the hundreds of years to pay their respects, only to find the tourist trap. He couldn't bring himself to talk to most of the vendors, especially those dressed up as "Jedi". He was almost certain that some more experienced Jedi might see compassion for them in some way or would at least not be bothered by what they had turned the event into, but to Travot, it just felt wrong. He could only feel an uncomfortable apathy for them. After several blocks, he wandered into what appeared to be a danky cantina that catered to therservice personnel that kept this tourist trap running. He deftly followed in the wake of a rather large shuttle pilot who pushed his way through the crowd towards the actual bar counter, alongside which were several data terminals linked up to the local newsnet. He managed to take the last one as a middle-aged brunette barkeeper walked up to him. She looked him over.

"Haven't seen you before...did you get lost from one of the tours?"

"No, just thought I'd order a glass of Vitajuice and see if I can find some work."

"You're quite the hard drinker," laughed the woman.

"Got to have a clear mind if I'm going to be flying."

"You're a pilot then," mused the woman, pouring him the red-colored drink, "freighter or shuttle?"

"Either," replied Travot, "I've got a few staterooms open for a small party."

"Well, you may be in luck, see that small guy over there with the floppy hat? He's apparently an archaelogist who came here to dig with a university team, and he's looking for a ride for him and his two assistants. I think that gold-plated droid is with him too."

"Thanks," replied Travot, exchanging a few extra credit chips with the bartender for his drink, "I'll go check him out."

Ravenna slowly edged his way over to stand before an older aged man, "I hear you're looking for a ride off of Deneba."

"I am," said the old man, "do you have a ship?"

"I do. Where are you looking to go to?"

"Daalang."

"It's on my way if you're interested."

"Maybe," said the academic, "there will be four of us, counting the droid. Do you have the space?"

"I do, and they're not bunks. They're actually own private rooms."

"Oh, I'm afraid we're not rich...I'm not sure if we could afford that."

"How much are you looking to spend?"

"Six thousand credits, all inclusive."

Travot whistled, "That would be my at cost basis for the the trip. Do you have eight thousand?"

"Seven thousand credits."

"Deal."

"Deal?" questioned the academic incredulously.

"Look," said Travot, "I'm not looking to rip you off, unlike many of the people here. I'm looking to get closer to home, just like you. If I can make ends meet, I'm satisfied."

"You are a rare bird here, if you're really saying that you are what you are, if that makes sense."

"Why I don't I take you to my ship, and we can verify that everything's in order, if you're still interested."

"Oh I am, very much so. Susi, Tos, over here, I think we may have finally find our ride off this place."

The party meandered out of the starport, with the old man finally introducing himself as Professor Xylock of Daalang university. Apparently he studied ancient droids, and his team had been hoping to get some fragments of the old Krath battle droids during their excavation here, though from the man's discourse, Travot wasn't sure if they had actually managed to find any. they arrived at the freighter and Travot tapped a button on his comlink, lowering the ship's ramp. he called up into the freighter.

"[member="Tyl Ro"], I'm back with some passengers."

 

[Tyl Ro]

Where does one go while meditating?

Recently, Tyl had been using meditation as a way to concentrate on her thoughts and feelings concerning her current situation. Eventually though, there were no more thoughts or feelings to mull over. Decisions needed to be made, regardless of whether the chosen path was neutral or active. Further effort into coming to conclusions that might not yet be possible was just as detrimental as not acknowledging that a problem exists. A balance was required between consideration and action. Though action, for a typically passive Jedi, was a very broad concept. Tyl, being a seasoned, passive Jedi, was well aware of the necessity for such a balance.

In her moments of meditation, she was not aboard Plainswalker. She wasn't on Deneba. At first, she wasn't anywhere. Emptying her mind of questions, her heart of emotions, she simply was, in a place where there was nothing. Then, as she accepted the blank slate that she worked to achieve, there came a trickling sound. Tyl opened her eyes. The Jedi stood in a shallow brook, water dancing down the stony riverbed towards a point that Tyl could not see, nor did she look for. The Jedi let the water cascade around her, feeling the comfortable wetness around her bare feet. With the calmness there was chaos. With the motion there was order. They were one and the same, and she was one with it all.

Her eyes opened again, and she was back aboard Plainswalker. A call came from below where she was seated. Tyl stood and called to the lower deck. "Shall we get going then?"

[member="Travot Ravenna"]​

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot nodded at [member="Tyl Ro"], "I'm going to get our guests situated, and then we'll be off."

The young man turned his gaze from the kaminoan and strolled over to the next couple of state rooms where the academics were unpacking their gear. He leaned up against their door frame and lightly rapped his hand on the bulkhead.

"Professor, we're about to take off soon. Is there anything I should know about you or your students? Food allergies, medical things, that sort of thing..."

The old man looked at his two graduate students. The first one, a lanky middle aged brunette shook her head. But the second, a muscular trandoshan cleared his raspy throat. Not what I expected...

"I prefer to eat live worms," started the trandoshan, "and I brought my own, but I wanted to make sure that it would not offend you or your crew if I ate them in your presence."

Travot slowly nodded in appreciation at the courtesy. Certainly more...not civilized...maybe more conscientious on how his actions could be viewed compared to most trandoshans I've met. But then again, he isn't some sort of hunter.

"I don't think that will be an issue, but thank you for the forewarning," said Ravenna, "I can think of some passengers I've had in the past who might have appreciated to know that in advance."

Professor Xylock eyed him carefully, "We're your only passengers, correct?"

"Yes. You probably will have a bit more privacy and freedom compared to some of your journeys, based on our talk here. We don't have a chef onboard, but the ship's autochef is available for use whenever you'd like. Feel free to explore the ship, but please refrain from entering the two staterooms to the right of this room: those are the quarters of myself and a...friend that help runs this vessel. Any questions?"

"I have none at the moment," said the professor, "but if I do, I'll come ask you..."