Varunda IX, Habat City
He'd secured lodging after the shuttle had brought him back down to the planet from Ashin's ship. She'd been an excellent host, and he was pleased with how well things had gone. Granted he'd have liked it better if she'd just told him where Spencer was, but at the same time he wasn't even sure his daughter would want to see him, and it would be horribly awkward if he just appeared and she went on a tirade against him or told him to go away. The torment of seeing her for a brief moment before leaving per her wishes would have been worse than not seeing her at all. At least he had Ashin's assurances that she was alive.
The closet in the hotel room was small, much like the room. He had plenty of money, but he'd opted against the lifestyle of luxury ever since his return to the land of the living. Luxury, he had decided, was another pathway to a occurrence of the darkness taking control of him. Besides, he didn't need it.
Having given Ashin his contact information, he knew that she would pass it along to Spencer. It might take his daughter a few days to decide that she wanted to see him or not, so he figured on staying for roughly a week, see the city, keep his presence muted. He'd felt other dark presences in the system, and given the First Order's somewhat volatile reputation, and its ancestry, it wasn't improbable that they had some sort of darkside organization working within them. Something shadowy like the old Inquisitor's of the Galactic Empire. Whether they were really tasked with elimination of Force Users or not didn't really matter. Most darksiders were not as amenable as Ashin had been.
Once he was settled, he left the hotel and headed into the city, utilizing the walking paths rather than transportation. His sabers were hidden within the confines of his jacket, as he wore mostly Corellian garb. His Echani heritage was vastly muted compared to that of his standard human, at least in appearance. It allowed him to blend into crowds without drawing too much attention, and his face, by now, had surely fallen out of most people's memory. If not, he'd be entertained while he waited, at least.
[member="Spencer Varanin"]
He'd secured lodging after the shuttle had brought him back down to the planet from Ashin's ship. She'd been an excellent host, and he was pleased with how well things had gone. Granted he'd have liked it better if she'd just told him where Spencer was, but at the same time he wasn't even sure his daughter would want to see him, and it would be horribly awkward if he just appeared and she went on a tirade against him or told him to go away. The torment of seeing her for a brief moment before leaving per her wishes would have been worse than not seeing her at all. At least he had Ashin's assurances that she was alive.
The closet in the hotel room was small, much like the room. He had plenty of money, but he'd opted against the lifestyle of luxury ever since his return to the land of the living. Luxury, he had decided, was another pathway to a occurrence of the darkness taking control of him. Besides, he didn't need it.
Having given Ashin his contact information, he knew that she would pass it along to Spencer. It might take his daughter a few days to decide that she wanted to see him or not, so he figured on staying for roughly a week, see the city, keep his presence muted. He'd felt other dark presences in the system, and given the First Order's somewhat volatile reputation, and its ancestry, it wasn't improbable that they had some sort of darkside organization working within them. Something shadowy like the old Inquisitor's of the Galactic Empire. Whether they were really tasked with elimination of Force Users or not didn't really matter. Most darksiders were not as amenable as Ashin had been.
Once he was settled, he left the hotel and headed into the city, utilizing the walking paths rather than transportation. His sabers were hidden within the confines of his jacket, as he wore mostly Corellian garb. His Echani heritage was vastly muted compared to that of his standard human, at least in appearance. It allowed him to blend into crowds without drawing too much attention, and his face, by now, had surely fallen out of most people's memory. If not, he'd be entertained while he waited, at least.
[member="Spencer Varanin"]