Faction Farworlds Alliance : Reverie and Respite - [TDF] + Friends

[Braze]

Tags: Jasper Kai'el Novac Lyrikal Ko Vuto Odom Orzmod Saram Kote Medrit Kote Sergeant Omen Silas Westgard Matthew of Valendale Sian Sestoi Jonyna Si Beltor "Bell" Cyrus Tirin Raene Lady Solaria of Valendale
( Ask for invite if you would like to join ) ​

Following the events on Dromund Kaas, and after great sacrifice, the portals had been destroyed on both sides, severing any path back through that way. The group gathers now on Refuge, having carried their wounded and the souls they managed to free from that dark place. Here, beneath gentler skies, there are no chains left to answer to.

After a few weeks of rest and recovery those who were brave enough to stand up to the evil that has been left unchecked for so long are gathered at Respite to share in one another's company over good food and better drink.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen spent most of his time at Respite growing medicinal plants and bandaging up the former slaves' open wounds as an attendant in the medical quarters at Respite. Other than that, he could be caught observing some of the students' lessons for fun, seeing what had been changed from the lesson plans in the Silver days. But he never completely joined in, always staying to the side and ready to sidestep out of the Jedi's way. The Clone was a guest here, and he knew it. So he did what all good guests did: try to behave long enough that their hosts couldn't just kick you out.

After a couple of days, after everything had settled down, Omen decided for himself that it was time to go. He was missing Aren and felt like he had worn out his welcome. If anyone wanted to find him on that last early morning, he would be found fueling up his Mynock Class and changing his transponder codes to Sith-friendly in preparation for going home.

Tag: Open

 

[Braze]

Tags: Sergeant Omen ​

Braze wanted to say thank you to all the folks who helped him make a difference to a handful of souls.

He padded over to Sergeant Omen having been alerted to his preparations to depart by his small droid Gizmo.

"I have somethings for you." Braze chirped carrying some sealed containers and a small box.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen raised an eyebrow as he saw Braze approach with the boxes, looking at them with squinted eyes. The Clone could almost imagine them ticking inside. "You know, you didn't have to do this. I just came to help out and to shut a door..." His "conversation" over the comms with Aunt Saram would tell him what door he needed shut. Anyways, he was just another gun in the operation among many and didn't feel like he needed special treatment. But he also wanted to get out of here without the white-haired baby's eyes watering, threatening him by making him feel bad.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Omen eventually let up, giving the boy with starry eyes that were staring into his soul a tired smile. "What do you have for me?" Might as well see the goodies that he was handing out. Just for science, of course.

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Sergeant Omen ​

" I made some strawberry brownies, and an iced lemon loaf. It would be a shame if you didn't get to try them. I packed you extra to take home with you to share." Braze said holding up the boxes. He didn't mention what was in the third box that didn't look like a food container that was on the bottom.

"I wanted to say thank you for all your help, too…" he chirped softly, offering the sweets up for the man to take.

Braze was not going to pester him any further in regard to Saram Kote , but he was glad they had at least gotten to see each other again, even if they were only 'good friends,' as far as Braze understood Mandalorian culture. So long as he knew the com link worked both ways was good enough for Braze. He hated seeing possible friend drift apart just because some one was too shy to take the initiative to talk to some one.

He did not yet understand all the small cultural differences, or the subtle inflections tucked between certain words and silences. He was still learning, after all.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen looked between the treats and Braze for a second. He had half expected him to pull out some sort of customized weapon, but all this.. This boy was too sweet for his own good. He gently took the boxes into his hands as he said, "Thanks, I'm going to have to put these somewhere safe. My partner's gonna make me sleep on the couch if I eat them all. You are gonna have to share the recipe for these with me." By the looks of the treats, Aren would make him or EL make a lot more in the future.

Looking into the sky for a moment, the Clone would feel the breeze go past as he glanced into the wild blue yonder. "Seems like a good day to fly." It almost made him forget about the Saran thing for a moment. He didn't know if they were "good friends" as Braze thought, but they were at least on speaking terms till she decided to hide in her work again. Guess that was more than he could ask for. It was funny... If he hadn't met Aren, he might have done the foolish thing and tried to get back together with her, like the past had shown him nothing. Guess that's what being a love drunk idiot got you, being raised high before plummeting back down to earth.

Managing to shake himself out of his thoughts, Omen asked if there was anything left that needed to be done here before he left to head back into enemy territory. He couldn't think of anything off the top of his head, but maybe the Master Jedi had a task or two in mind.

Tag: Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Sergeant Omen ​

The three containers together had some heft to them, perhaps more than one might expect. But with little else left to offer, Braze abruptly gave Omen a tight hug,

"I'll be happy to send the recipes to your comm number. Don't be a stranger for too long, and stay safe… May the Force be with you, Mister Omen," Braze chirped in reply, bidding him safe travels. before scampering off before he could reject or complain what the third box contained.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen didn't know what to say as Braze's arms spread around him. It's not like he could hug back. In the end, all he could say was "Thanks, same to you. You know where to find me." before Braze bounced off. Heading up the ship ramp, he looked at what was inside the third container and shook his head at the credits. At least they would go some way to repairing the shop if she let him. Otherwise, he could always use them on a worthy cause, and Jett Vox would like the rocks and shells. Putting the boxes down on a table, he started going around the ship, doing a check of the Mynock's insides as he got ready to head for home.

Tag: @Open

 

[Beltor "Bell" Cyrus]

The Ring world.

The Winking Mynock Cantina.

Belltor Cyrus was not in his right mind. He was drunk, very drunk. It was his one day of the standard year he got to get drunk, to put his sobriety on hold and drink in celebration of the day he was born. He went by the Spacer's Standard Galactic Calendar, based on standard atomic decay of hydrogen, the vary same one Coruscant used.

The bar was dingy, ramshackle, and he was pretty sure it was built out of the hull of an old GR75. He didn't care. He was piss drunk on something green that burned like hellfire, with a pretty twi'lekki girl on his lap, playing his 19th round of Sabbac with an old salty smuggler captain. There was nearly 130,000 credits on the table in naked chits, an IB-94 officers model, his own guard shoto, and his flawed corsica gem.

The old captain frowned at him. "You sure you really want to play this lad, that there lightsaber is worth the entire pot twice over, I'm not sure I can call that bet." Beltor smiled a goofy grin, the girl on his lap giggling at where his spare hand snaked to.

"I mean we can settle it here and now old man, one last hand." The old dog smiled a sly wolf's grin and slapped a data slate on the table. "Ownership papers, for my ship." Bell raised an eyebrow. Betting one's ship was not a light thing. The old man pressed a key on the pad and a little hologram blinked to life. Bell recognized it, a Sphyrna class corvette. "I call it the "Star Dancer", been mine for 50 years now."

Bell smiled. "Alright then old dog, show your hand." The Captain grinned as he set his cards down. "A full hand, perfect 23-" Bell held up his hand. "Not so fast there friend. I declare a fools array." The Smuggler's face fell, and a vein popped in his bald head.

The moment was silent with even the pretty thing on Bell's lap going quiet. His eyes narrowed, and the older man leveled a pointed finger at the younger man. "Where's your skifter, you bastard." Bell held his arms up, letting his sleaves fall and only revealing bare arms.

"No cheats here old man, just luck and a little bit of skill." Still, he could see the man's shoulder's tense, how brow ruffle, and the apple of his throat bob. He was tensing like a coil.

Bell gently shifted the girl back on her feet, Layla was her name, or at least something close to it. He reached up to gather his winnings when the old men snapped, stabbing a vibroknife in to the table just shy of his hand. "You no good cheating spacer frack. I'm not giving you a damned thing!" He held the captain's eye, but spoke to the girl.

"Layla dear, go run to the temple, find a Jedi by the name of Braze. Little guy, pretty, white hair. Tell him the Good Doctor Cyrus might have to beat an old man for trying to snatch back my winnings." The Girl nodded and dashed for the entrance to the bar.

The Old man snatched up the blade and leveled it at him across the table, anger on his face. Bell rightened him self, hands up in a lazy guard...


A few moments later...

A few yells of surprise and the breaking of glass resounded out as Beltor and the old Smuggler captain crashed through the window of the cantina, dropping in to the ground in a grapple, spitting and cursing at each other. The old man was slippery, good even, the bloody lip, blackened eye and tip of a knife sticking out of Bell's shoulder attested to that.

Beltor was better, and stronger, and he scrambled quick enough to get the old man in to a rear naked choke hold. He wasn't really trying to choke the life out of the old man, just wanted him to submit as they kicked and wrestled on the ground. "Call it old man! I won fair and square!" The Old man cursed and clawed at his arm. "You cheated me out of my retirement you frack!" Bell laughed, a sudden realization on his face. "You can keep the money, hell even the gem you old fart, I just want the ship!"

The old man struggled for a moment longer before seemingly realizing what Bell had said. "W-what?" Bell too stopped fighting, only keeping him in the hold to keep him down. "I said, you can keep the 130 grand, and the Corsica, I'll take the ship if your wanting to retire."

Slowly, timidly, the old man tapped Bell's arm, and he took it as a signal of submission. Gently, Bell let go. Snaking out from under the old man and getting to his knees. The high of adrenaline and haze of the liquor keeping his mood light, even with a vibroknife in his shoulder.

The old man sputtered for a bit, getting on his hands and knees. Bell held out a hand, and the old man took it. "You fight...pretty good for a spacer." Bell chuckled. "You fight pretty good for an old man."

The two looked at each other for a moment before they both sat back on their hunches and started to chuckle at the situation. "Yea...you seem like a good lad. Just take care of the Dancer for me, alright. She's a good ship."

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Refuge
Tags: Silas Westgard , Open

Lightsaber, Refuge, Respite, Jedi Outcasts, Grafted into Stone
​

"You're lucky your teeth aren't in yet."

Jasper sighed as he sat on his sofa at home, an infant seated on his lap. The boy, uncaring, bit down with gums on his father's finger as he let out a series of garbled babbling noises. The Jedi Master couldn't bring himself to be upset, really. All he could feel was the swell in his chest. The love of a father for his son.

"I hope you get over teething quickly," he exhaled. "Sorry I came home all beat to crap, bud... not that you have the awareness to even realize anything like that yet I guess. Little head isn't fully developed yet..."

"Ba!"

"Yeah..."

Jasper scooped up the four-month old and carried him off towards his room. As he pat the infant on the back the boy slowly drifted into sleep. Cole slept a lot, more than Jasper would have ever guessed. Then again, he hadn't taken care of anyone so young before. It had been a learning experience for sure. He'd lay the baby down in his crib and turn off the light in his room before he turned to the little spark droid hovering in the corner.

"I'll be back later, Pyf..." Jasper assured. "Let M sleep a little longer if you can."

"Get going, kid," the droid whirred in response. "You need to de-stress more than anything else right now. Not like that's a new thing for you."

"Loud and clear," the Jedi Master chuckled. "See you later..."

---

Respite was buzzing with activity, though they were the embers of chaos slowly becoming calmness. As those recovered from Dromund Kaas were getting settled in, those who had remained in the village were also beginning to tend to those who had gone and fought. The Jedi Temple was open, with food prepared to fill the bellies of the weary warriors that had risk their lives. Jalen Kai'el , as usual, was ensuring that everything ran smoothly. He was as much of a workaholic as Jasper was. It ran in the family.

Jasper had a few lingering bandages from his time in Bacta. He had gotten himself quite roughed up. In his hand was a six pack of cider, something he had picked up back in the Core on Corellia after they had handled the Galactic Empire. He brought up his communicator, opening to one secure channel he hoped would answer back.

Silas Westgard

"Hey man... if you're still around... swing by the Temple, yeah? Got drinks."

And whoever else decided to swing by could get the other four.

 

[Braze]

Tags: Beltor "Bell" Cyrus ​

Braze was approached by the woman, and after a brief look over her face, he seemed to decide his assistance was needed.

He made his way toward the trouble, spoke quietly with the owner, and offered to pay for the damages before crossing to where Beltor "Bell" Cyrus was.

It was far too early to be drunk, Braze thought, his mouth settling into a faint frown as his gaze shifted between the pair.

"Having a good day, eh?" Braze asked simply.

 

[Novac Lyrikal]

The floor was nice and cool, though novac would rather it be warmer but oh well...Wait the floor? Novac picked his head up and looked around. He was suppose to be in a nice comfy bed, one that was clearly not big enough for him as over half of him was on the floor now. Shame the temple didnt have a room with a bigger bed. Though he couldn't really complain, it was nice staying somewhere that wasn't his ship for once though the fact the his ship and the planet shared a name was a tad ironic.

Getting up novac realized his 2 massiffs where sprawled out on his tail that was still on the bed. Great, now he was stuck there, cant disturb them their comfy. After a few minute novac made the choice to wake them up so he could get up. Once he was finally up he put on his robes and headed out, the massiffs following behind happily, tongues hanging out the side of their mouths.

The temple was unlike any place he'd stayed at before yet it was probably one of the nicest. Wasnt crowded, but wasnt quiet either. the village outside also had a nice cozy vibe to it. Novac couldn't help wonder if this is what it would have been like if he was raised in a jedi temple instead of living on a world kept secret to the galaxy then on a frigate with a old turtle jedi. It wasn't that he disliked it just...it was rather lonely at times. The droids and animals he surrounded himself with helped with that but it could still get lonely, even more so when his master retired.

He still had a few small bandages here and there, mostly on his hood, but the temples chief healer master kolgara had done wonders. Novac was excited to meet him due to his reptilian biology. Lucky he'd managed to not have to tell anyone he was on dromund kaas since he was only a padawan and wasnt even suppose to be there that day. He was planning on visiting the market but on his way out He sensed a heat he recognized. Due to his snake like nature he could sense heat in ways other couldn't. Mixing that with the force he could sense it even better including recognizing some people through it. Turning the corner into a room he saw Jasper Kai'el , his massiffs ran up to him to try and get some attention and pets. novac following behind simply waved, "Hey jasper, hows it going. Sorry about them they love attention from whoever will give it to them."

 

[Saram Kote]

​

Tag(s): Braze | Sergeant Omen

Saram's Equipment

Attire Lead-bearing Gear Implant(s) Equipment Melee Sidearm(s)

• 
  
  • 'Chur Kute' Active Wear [x]
• 
  
  • Reflec-based Shadowskin-coated 'Sapanyc Gaa'kaan'yaim' Magnetic Retention Holster with micronized Voidstone lining
    • 1x belt-mounted knife sheathe
    • 1x thigh holster w/ magazine storage loops
• 
  
  • 'Agol'ja'had'-R Medical Implant System
  • 'Ori'aal'briik' Nervous System Enhancer
  • 'Nejah Oya'karur' Full-spectrum Immunity Booster
  • 'Agol'gam' Muscle and Bone Enhancement
  • 'Sur'haai Haata'got' Optical Cyberware Interface
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• 
  
  • 'Shushai Rugam' Sensor Sphere (2)
• 
  
  • K-03 Kal (2)
• 
  
  • LRH-5A Verpine Shatter Pistol
    • 'Kyrayc Sur'haai'-M 1-4x Short Range Optic
    • 'Drala Sur'haai' Targeting Laser/Illuminator
    • Ammunition:
      
      • GVSR-APH Guided AP Magazine (1 loaded, 2 spare)
      • GVSR-EH Guided Electro-stun Magazine (1)
      • GVSR-TDH Guided Tracker Dust Magazine (1)

No armor. Mandalorians, her friends and and family in the least, only really took off their armor around, well, other friends and family. She'd hung around and fought alongside this group of Jetiienough that they in the very lad proven that they were in the 'friend' category. Burc'ya, that was not a word she ever thought she would ever associate with Jetii, then again, this wasn't the group that she didn't agree with. Just like she wasn't the sort of Mandalorian that these Jetii had fought in the past. She had made the conscious decision not to continue the cycle of hate, rather try to bridge the gap between their cultures, and she and Braze had in the very least managed that. What was another peace offering? Not one she was inclined to make a habit of, but a peace offering nonetheless.

Odd that the lack of armor was a peace offering, but she knew that shabuire wearing armor like hers had done. Then again, she knew what good Mando'adewearing armor like hers had done for the Alliance. Things were different back then. Ageing worked weird with these nanites. It's not wonder John Locke was effectively shabla ageless!

There was never a time she regretted not having more than her under kute clothes than when she got off her borrowed, stripped down, gunship. She felt odd without armor or most of her weapons, she had a Verpine Shatter handgun in her thigh holster and a knife in her belt, but compared to her usual loadout, that was practically unarmed. Not having her conscious filled with the output of her beskar'gam's detection, targeting and tracking output, or the constant predictive analytic suggestions from the its 'Manda' module felt odd, almost like she had a dear friend who had left her side. Shab, maybe she needed to work less, or better still, maybe she needed to talk to one of the company's jah'ade about it.

Her experienced eyes picked out Braze talking to Sergeant Omen . Ordinarily she would have left them alone to their conversation, content to get a Whyrren's, an expensive habit she had picked up that consumed a reasonably notable part of her paycheck. Of course, she'd have preferred a Tihaar. Few places knew how to brew it right, and one of the only men that did was standing in front of her, with bags packed, evidently ready to travel. Saram wondered for a moment if it would be proper to question him about it or not. Rangir! She was not exactly being conventional at he moment, what was one more convention? Besides, who the shab was keeping track?

She crossed the distance between them quickly and then asked, though out of turn in the order of the conversation, "Leaving? So soon? And here I was getting used to a competent bes'bev player." She extended her hand outward in a traditional Mandalorian greeting. "Gal, good?" she added quickly as she waited for him to return the traditional Mandalorian greeting she had proferred.

 

[Beltor "Bell" Cyrus]

Tags: Beltor "Bell" Cyrus ​

Braze was approached by the woman, and after a brief look over her face, he seemed to decide his assistance was needed.

He made his way toward the trouble, spoke quietly with the owner, and offered to pay for the damages before crossing to where Beltor "Bell" Cyrus was.

It was far too early to be drunk, Braze thought, his mouth settling into a faint frown as his gaze shifted between the pair.

"Having a good day, eh?" Braze asked simply.

Bell looked up at his mentor with a hint of surprise. By the time he had arrived Beltor and the Old Captain had settled what ever feelings they had, and where in the process of discussing the specifics of the Star Dancer and its various systems. His moment of surprise was cut by the old man, now known to him as Baris, slapping him on the shoulder.

"Indeed we are, master Jedi. Your man here damn near cleaned me out. I got upset, we fought, he won. He's getting my ship, and I'm getting to keep my retirement creds and he's even giving me that corsica gem he put down!" The old man laughed, and Bell joined him in the laugh.

"That about sums it. I think my birthday celebration has been good so far. Not every day you win a whole corvette in a sabbac game." The old man smiled, slapping him on the shoulder again and getting another wince out of Bell. The knife had been removed, and a bacta patch covered the wound. "No, you won the Dancer in the fight, I still maintain you cheated the sabbac game."

He smiled, rolling his eyes. Turning back to Braze, he got up, a bit unsteady given the liquor blush on his face. "I'm...going to go check out this Star Dancer I just...won. I'll be around later." He patted the younger lad on the back and started his jaunt down to the docks.

 

[Rayne Lo'to]

Refuge
Tags: Braze , Beltor "Bell" Cyrus

Rayne Runner | Trash Mobile Home
​

Rayne wasn't usually one to be sentimental. Or drink copious amounts of alcohol for that matter. But at the moment she was feeling... down was a good word for it. It had been a pain to get to Refuge. She had grown tired of the chaos of the galaxy and figured she'd find good work abroad with her mechanical skills. Finding a strange fellow selling a dubious navigational device to get through a portion of space with a black hole to a haven for the outcast seemed to be too good to be true. Rayne was, unfortunately, just the sort of fool to fall for it. It was true, though. Refuge was the name of this place. It was about as backwater as you got. The amount of tech she had hauled here gave her lots to sell, as lots of people lived rather rural lives.

Unfortunately there were Jedi here. It meant she could only think about... him.

"What about… you want to spend the rest of the evening with me?"

It had only been one night that he new the Jedi. And then he was gone, like a ghost in the wind. It made sense. He mentioned being a Shadow of some sort. She had no idea where he was now, but she couldn't help but feel a longing for what she had experienced that day. It all still felt like some strange dream she had long ago now. So strange...

She hardly noticed the world around her as she sat in the bar. Beltor "Bell" Cyrus and some old man beat the snot out of each other and caused some damage, but she was a bit to lost in her own thoughts and frankly rather buzzed. She hardly noticed as she nursed her extremely fruity, though very potent cocktail. It was only when Braze approached the bartender and asked about the damages to the establishment that she was brought out of her stupor. She knew that face! That was...

"Rayne? Is that you?" Braze asked, still wearing his training blindfold but smiling as if he could see her clearly. "You're kind of hard to miss, you know. The Force around you has a unique... hum, like an engine running smooth."

"Braze!"

Her vocoder filled in the gaps that her lack of working vocal cords didn't fill. The abnormally tall woman got to her feet and moved over to the young man with a bright smile on her face, alongside the golden blush of someone who maybe had too much to drink. She very quickly assumed the role of a doting auntie who hadn't seen their nephew in a very long time, though she had the composure to not pinch his cheeks.

"I'd know those eyes anywhere," the vocoder stated. "Look at how you've grown! Well, you didn't get tall but your face isn't as babyish! How did you even get here?"

And he looked so rugged now. To think he was just a little guy gardening so long ago now. Kids grew up so fast...

 

[Braze]

Tags: Beltor "Bell" Cyrus Rayne Lo'to ​

"Just don't go trying to fly it till yer sober, okay? 'Cause if you do, you and I are going on one of my 'joyrides'!" Braze called, before he looked over at the sound of his name.

Oh… it was the funny banana lady.

"Oh, hey. Fancy seeing you here, Miss Rayne." He smiled and moved to brush a hand through his snowy white bangs, sweeping them back from his face. He couldn't help but blush at the way she spoke about him. It was all true. He really may not have grown all that much, but he had started to fill out a little more, his muscles becoming more refined over the years as he took on a sharper, more hawkish look.

"Heh… it's one heck of a story, let me tell you," he said, trying to reach back into the deep recesses of his memory, searching for where he'd last seen her. Maybe it was that funny place with the underwater buildings? Gosh, things had been so different back then…

"How are you doing? Enjoying the cantina scene this far out at the galaxy's edge?"

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

​

The Lord Protector had not forgotten the few young ones among the handful of souls they had saved. When he returned to them, it was not with empty hands or hollow promises, but with small comforts he had gathered with care: soft toys, simple wooden playthings, warm clothes, fresh socks, sturdy shoes, and folded blankets that still held the clean scent of sun-dried cloth.

He brought enough for each child to have something of their own. Not a shared scrap, not a borrowed piece, not whatever had been left over after others had taken their fill, but something chosen for them. A shirt that fit. Shoes without holes. Socks that would keep the cold from biting at their toes. Blankets thick enough to wrap around narrow shoulders and make the world feel, for a little while, less cold and bleak.

There were toys as well, small things, perhaps, but bright in the hands of children who had known too little kindness. Plush creatures, carved figures, little treasures meant to be held close. The Lord Protector set them out gently, letting the young ones choose, letting them reach without fear of having their hands slapped away. For once, they were not being counted as burdens, or spoils, or mouths to feed.

He was however curiously on the look out for a specif person... Novac Lyrikal more specifically...

 

[Beltor "Bell" Cyrus]

Beltor Cyrus

His jaunt didn't last long, the docks where near, and the largest ship there next to the Mudduck was the Star Dancer it self. She looked...like crap.

She was a hammerhead, obviously, and heavily armed if the weapons refit was what he thought it was. He meandered to the port authority office and made it known that the Dancer was being transferred to his name and subsequently got clearance on to her pad. Whistling, he climbed on to the turbolift and hit the button. The old man had let him know that the crew had been let go with severance in anticipation of his retirement, and so he already knew he had to hire a new crew. Flipping the lights on as he went, he surveyed the ship room by room. She had room, a lot of room.

Getting to the cockpit, he sat down in the pilots chair and powered on the systems read out. He whistled again. She had nearly 20 times the power out put the Finch did, and it would need it if the was reading the weapons readout correctly.

Twin medium turbolasers flanking the bridge section, twin turreted heavy mass drivers along the port and starboard most mounts, a pair of rapid fire quad heavy laser cannons at the dorsal and ventral most points, and each of the 4 escape pods had a single rapid fire heavy blaster cannon mounted to them as well.
Arguably more impressive was the fact the cargo bay had the mounting for a magazine fed, box launcher for light and medium weight guided munitions, and the rear most crew hatch had been modified for use as a mine layer. She also had an uprated shielding system taken directly from the military refits found on the CR-90s still poking around.

A noise from behind him caught his attention, and he spin the chair around with his slug thrower leveled. There, standing in the bulkhead door to the crew compartment, was the same little green twi'lek girl he had gotten handsy with at the bar.

She held her hands up, a bottle of something sparkling in one, and a pair of flutes in the other. "Who there captain, I'm not here to slice your new ship." Bell cocked a brow. "I'm Laylani. We were getting some what, well...friendly with each other at the bar?" He nodded, decoking the slugthrower but keeping it on his lap.
She smiled and gingerly sat down in the co-pilots seat. Bell spoke first. "I...locked the main door, the hells did you get in here?" She giggled, pouring them both a glass. "I...used to be the old man's XO, my code still works for the hatch." He nodded, taking the glass, but waiting for her to take the first sip.

She smiled again and did so, knocking back half the glass in one shot. "I came here to offer you my services." He took a sip, it was light and bubbly, not his preferred stuff, but tasty. "Oh?" Laylani nodded. "Old man picked me up when I was young, he...well if it wasn't obvious he wasn't just a smuggler, if the guns on this little rust bucket are anything to say. Safe to say the sith slavers that took me where surprised when this little corvette sent a pair of slugs directly through their engine housing."

Bell leaned back, a bit surprised. "First I was just a bit of entertainment, as perhaps nice he could be it does get lonely out on the space lanes. Eventually he trusted me enough to let me be a part of his crew, and I eventually rose to his XO. He even put be through the academy once he started to see me as more of a protégée then just an officer." It was Bell's turn to speak. "Anaxes?" She shook her head. "No, Cardia. He wasn't ever that rich. You?" Bell smiled and held up his arm, pulling the sleeve back to show the Anaxes emblem tattooed on it. "6 years, nearly top of my class."

She tiled her head with a smile. "My my, fancy. You ever do time in the fleet after?" Beltor shook his head. "No, I am a rare example of an academic graduate, history with a focus on jedi and sith histories, actually. Anaxes genuinely has an amazing historical program." He held up her glass in a toast, he joined her. "To Anaxes then."

They both drank deeply and relaxed in to his chair. "So, your wanting your old job back?" She shrugged, nodding. "Pretty much, yea." He thought about it for a second, then spoke. "How about this. I'll be her master, you be her captain when I'm gone. While I do intend on using the Dancer, I get the feeling I'll be doing a lot of work off ship as well." She nodded, thinking it over. "You do know your offering me a higher pay rate, right?" He nodded again. "A higher pay rate, Captain's privileges, and the right to keep and man your own crew. People you trust, people I can trust."

She nodded along. He continued. "I have a PHD in the subject, and even wear a lightsaber and call my self a Jedi.." He lowered the tone of his voice, his eyes shifting to sharper glint that bored in to her. "Do not frack me, Laylani. I'll hunt you down across the stars." She held his gaze for a long moment, seemingly trying to see any bluff if he was bluffing, and found nothing but a hard edge that meant he was serious. She dipped her head. "I understand. I...take it your going to want a crew that is more capable?" "I do, I may not want to, but I fully expect and intend to take this vessel in to war, and will need it to be a proper fighting ship crewed by fighting men and women. We'll make money on the side, don't get me wrong, but I can tell just by looking at her that the Star Dancer was a ship of war first, a smuggler second."

She nodded, seemingly going through a list in her head. "I know of a good group of folk, most are newer, younger, hungrier, but also a few of the old crew. Hard, salty spacers like your self. They'll be loyal to me, and I to you." He took another sip, the moment dragging on for a moment.

She shifted in her seat, giving him a bit more of a view of her womanly charms. "You know, your funny. Most men like you would have asked me to...prove my self first, if you catch my meaning." He cocked a brow, genuinely confused for a moment before he caught on. "Ahhh...I see." She gave him a darker smile. "You know...the captains bed is pretty big..." He shook his head. "Don't...take this the wrong way, but I'm good." She blinked, her sultry smile floundering for a moment. He raised a hand. "It's not that I don't like you, your smart, deceptively so, but I'm...not prone to taking such liberties, is all. If your wanting to really prove your self, get your crew together and get them working on fixing any problems the Dancer has."

She slumped back in her chair, her eyes watching him for a moment before a smile appeared on her face. "Ahhh...I see. You've got another girl in mind?" He shrugged. "Girl isn't the right word. She's a women, a hell of a one at that. 2 Meters ish, built for war, has a tail, breath taking tiger stripes." She raised her head. "A Cathari?" He nodded, a faint blush on his face. "One of the Jedi, an outcast like me. A good friend, is teaching me a lot."

She took another sip of her glass. "And you've caught feelings for her?" He sighed, his eyes looking some where else. "I think so. She brightens the room she's in, answers all my question about the clone wars-" Both her eyes opened. "The Clone wars? How old is she?" He motioned with his hand. "900 years or so, was frozen for most of it. Long story."

"I see...you know you should probably tell her, right?" He sighed, draining the rest of his glass. "I know, I want to, I really do, I just...don't know if I can take the rejection, really. I've had feelings like this before, I fracked it up, bad. Nearly ruined my life. I...don't want to risk it again, you know?"

To give her credit, Laylani nodded. "I do, I do. Well Dr. Captain Jedi gambler man, you miss 100% of the shots you don't take." He sighed, she nodded. Plucking the bottle from the console, she took a long swig that drained it dry. "I'm not gonna tell you how to do your love life man, but I mean it. It's your birthday, right? I heard you mention it at the bar. Go keep getting drunk and enjoy this place, I'll get the crew roster and supplies on board. I take it I have your permission to bill your account?" He nodded, getting up a bit unsteadily from the hooch and having sat for a while. "Yea, I should have enough, I didn't pay for this boat after all." She smiled and grabbed a data slate, patting him on the shoulder as she got up to leave. "Go enjoy the day, skipper." She made for the door, stopping only long enough to send him a sly look over her shoulder. "Oh, and if it doesn't work out with your Tigress, my bed's always open."

Like that, she was gone. Soon enough, he was too.

 

[Rayne Lo'to]

Refuge
Tags: Braze

Rayne Runner | Trash Mobile Home
​

"How are you doing? Enjoying the cantina scene this far out at the galaxy's edge?"

Rayne tilted her head to the side and looked away for a moment before she answered him.

"No," the vocoder stated. "I got some... stupid guy stuck in my head. It was a one-day sort of thing like years ago. Jedi Shadow... that's what your spies are, right? Guess he was gone and I never saw him again. It's stupid..."

The tall Twi'lek woman shook her head to snap herself out of it, and her smile returned.

"This place is quite beautiful though," she noted. "It was a pain to get that navi-device working to get around that black hole, but it's really been worth it. Tech advancement is low here too, so got lots to sell. That's a new thing for me."

Most other places the haul she had stored aboard the Hera would have been considered total junk. Here though? People seemed to find value in the most mundane things. She even sold some of her bobble heads! Those almost never sold. The woman let out a muted sigh as she rubbed at her shoulder, thinking about what made it so easy to be here.

A nobody with few friends and a lifetime of experience collecting trash vanished from civilization quite easily.

"Your people are here though, yeah?" Rayne asked. "I've heard talk of a Jedi Temple. Guess you all probably have a consistent way of getting here."

It at least brought her comfort that the kid wasn't alone. Well, not a kid, but still a kid.

 

[Roten]

Refuge
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

Kiba no Shimai​

Roten let out an exhale as he followed along with Matthew. He was mostly keeping to himself, hands tucked in his pockets. This was the sort of stuff that he struggled with. Weakness was... difficult. And it wasn't that these people chose to be weak, but they didn't have the chance to grow strong and fight with honor. He couldn't understand the fulfillment it gave to strip the weak of any power they had.

Perhaps that was where he and Kalrath hadn't seen eye to eye.

Worst of all was the growing sense of empathy and pity he developed for those who were robbed of the ability to fight. A softness in his gut that filled him with emotions he was still learning to accept. Supposedly that made him a good fit for a Jedi... but he never really felt like that was the case. Yet he tried his best anyways.

For now, though, he was really just going through the motions. He helped hand out toys and tried not to look in any one child's eyes for too long...

Lest he see his reflection in them.