It's dangerous to go alone...

[Julius Sedaire]

Location: Kal'shebbol - Kathol Sector​

Time Unknown, shortly after the events on Socorro with Julius and [member="Keira Ticon"]​

What follows is a rather haphazzard journal account of where Julius has gone ICly.​

​

In the end, he just couldn't stand to admit or face the truth as it began to face him down, the obvious choice and pressing concern. The answers he needed would not be found persisting as he was. He was not ready yet for the challenges that were beckoning, and hurtling to them at break-neck speed would only ensure his own demise. In the end, it might ensure that he fail utterly at his goals and his 'mission'... So many causes beckoned and called for him, and he had a hard time deciding which. If he chose wrong, it all would fall down for his life.

So he had decided to retreat from things for a while, and see the one people who might know his solution. He had begged and borrowed, and now his beloved Turhaya was loaded to the brim with supplies and modifications from all the fanciest types. New charts, new hyperdrives, probes, journals from the last person he knew to make an active trail of the rift. Gifts had been made and given to the appropriate people, until he sat in his crafts pilot chair turning over the last real possession he had. Soon he would need to leave this port and truly begin the journey he had set out to undergo.

A plain lightsaber, really in the end. No visible frills, nothing so grand as engraving or gems or electrum chasing like some did. Yet the shape and form were burned in legend and mythos. He suspected, due to it's past owners, it was more than a simple lightsaber perhaps, in the hands of the more mystically inclined. Even he, with his pragmatic powers, could sense the memories and sometimes gained visions when meditating with it. Even his mind had been opened and broadened by the hilt the Skywalkers had borne for so many generations.

But it was time for it to go to one who would truly embody what it meant to be and fight as a Jedi. One who would echo the internal struggle and questions of Anakin, Luke and the others who had held it. And to that end, he had commissioned a cryptex style lock box made of gados electrite. The password had been set, and the cap remained open as he observed the hilt, weighing options, laughing and joyous eyes suddenly far away and misty in thought. There wasn't much time..

Nodding firmly, he slipped the saber inside the tube and clapped the top closed with a suctioning pop. Without thinking, because if he did, he would regret and recant his decision, he spun the dials on the lock mechanism, dropped the tube into a larger durasteel shipping tube with a folded note and tossed it to a dutiful astromech which whirred away to drop it off to a courier. No one would know the contents, he had made sure of that, and the container was uniquely strong and durable. It would do what was needed when it was needed, and see the contents safely to destination. Somewhere on Voss, Connor Harrison would gain an invaluable package in the future.

Itching slightly at the calypho compass - now that had taken some figuring to get used to - he sighed and looked at the battered card tucked into his console, and touched the two jed creds hanging from a military style chain on his neck, thinking for a final moment before nodding and beginning the take off sequence. Redundancies and redoubts had been built into the ship. It would likely not make a return trip... But... It would get him to where he was goin, at least. The rest he would deal with later. If there was a later.

As the engines began to whine and hum in pre-flight, a jaunty little tune came from him as well...

Spoiler

Connor -

Not sure how long this will take to get to you. Kal'Shebbol is a ways away from most anything. You don't know me. But I have heard of you from a mutual friend. She spoke highly of you, and your character. In part, her words guided me to this fools errand I am on now. Enclosed is a gift, to one who truly knows the meaning of balance, and who will appreciate it in a singularly pleasing fashion to a sarcastic laser-brain like myself. Use it well, and keep it close.

Julius Sedaire

P.S. - If Keira is looking for me, you don't know me, where I'm at, at have no idea where I'm heading, even if you guess. Thanks for that.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor Harrison's Personal Quarters
Silver Sanctum Temple, Voss​

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kCN9K_a-MpE

Connor walked through the corridors of the Sanctum temple in his training attire, his vest torn from ascending the waterfall rocks below the grounds. It was always an exhilarating climb, with the thrill of one wrong move resulting in a very sore and painful descent. He had never fallen in the decade he’d done it, and didn’t expect to in future.

He held the heavy package in his hands, looking at the plain label that clearly was for him and had been held for his arrival back on Voss from the nightmare of Dromund Kass. However, that was a few days ago and he’d only been given the package – so much for Sanctum efficiency!

He reached his quarters, dark and cool as he liked with the soft glow of L.E.Ds, the breeze from the oval window above his table and fresh blue milk in his small fridge. Connor placed the package down on the table and fetched himself a drink, the bottle of milk nice and cold. The bottle cap clinked down and he took a nice mouthful of his favourite beverage before sitting down at the table, placing the drink beside the package.

Sizing it up, he pulled open the wrapping and pulled out the tube inside and held it in both hands.

Frowning a little at the tube, he turned the lid as hard as he could to open it. Whoever sealed it had sealed it well and the lid came up with a satisfying pop. Connor tilted the tube up for whatever was inside and it slowly fell into his hand as he raised the tube up and over.

He frowned slightly, and set what was in the tube down on the table.

Connor looked at the lightsaber for a minute. It couldn’t be what it looked like. Scoffing, he fingered the tube for anything else, and pulled out a folded note which he read. In fact he read it twice, to take it in. His eyes looked up to the hilt, and back to the note.

[member="Julius Sedaire"] was a name he had never heard of. [member="Keira Ticon"] however...

With a sigh, he dropped the note and pushed his hands on the table, head down, chin to his chest. He hadn’t heard from Keira since the warlord [member=Dredge] had taken her and [member="Saverok the Unleashed"] into the depths of space. She had placed faith in him and it seemed even now she had managed to reach him wherever she was.

Rubbing his beard for a second, he gingerly reached out and carefully placed his hand on the hilt and lifted the weapon of Anakin Skywalker, former Jedi turned Dark Lord of the Sith. The handprints of the Force were deep within the cool metal of the saber, and Connor felt the power he held. Corvus Raaf had shown him images of the lightsaber, so he knew the legacy it carried. Father to son, Anakin to Luke Skywalker. Even the rise of the First Order and famed Supreme Leader Snoke had crossed the same lightsaber, not to mention the girl, Rey….Connor winced, he forgot her full name.

The Jedi Order records had chartered the lightsaber across the ages and now, somehow, for some reason, it was here in his hands.

With a small chuckle, Connor placed it down and looked out the window. It couldn’t be the same one.

Could it?

He looked back down and licked his lip gently. It was a masterfully crafted weapon, and he would be lying if he didn’t want to take the responsibility that Julius had entrusted to him, a total strange. Connor nodded to himself and stood, lifting the lightsaber in his hand and held it forward, and activated it.

Nothing. As expected.

This would need inspection and a new crystal, to which Connor knew just where to go. Glancing back at the table, the tube, the bottle of milk and the note, the Jedi gripped the lightsaber that had shaped so much history in the galaxy and wondered if this was a sign that he too, Connor Harrison, was going to change the galaxy for the good with the weapon of heroes…and villains.

But, right now, there was a friend out there who needed him, and he only hoped it would not be too late to save her from the clutches of the Sith...

 

[Keira Priest]

Spoiler

My post is set before/after/when Keira isn't captured because timelines. For reference, it takes place shortly after the initial two threads with Julius, when she was still on Voss with Connor and the kids.

"Mama, what happened?" Small hands reached upwards to clumsily yet gently trace fingers along the burn scar that spiderwebbed across her jaw, that age old wound still bearing some of the distorted look and texture that injuries of its sort often retained. With her own hand she gently took the hand of her daughter's in her own, giving it a small squeeze, a smile playing across her lips. "Did a bad man hurt you?" That was her son, and soon enough he was at her other side, the both of them pressing close to her where they sat on the floor of her quarters on Voss. Neither of the twins were more than three or four years old, and yet were far more inquisitive and observant than any children their age had the right to be. One look at their parentage would answer for the origin of those traits.

Slowly she adjusted her position to sit more comfortably, allowing the two to shift themselves about as they pleased. "He wasn't a bad man. Not really." She kissed the top of Kaya's hand as the girl relinquished her touch on the scar that marred her mother's face. Reid seemed content with hanging on her other arm, looking up at her with evident curiosity. "Who was he, then?" "Was he your friend?" Questions she couldn't quite answer completely in the presence of those so young. "You could say that. He's the one that helped me to be as strong as I am now so I can stop all the bad people. We were really close. Really close." "What happened to him?" "He's still out there somewhere. I know he is." She could feel it.

"What about your knee? The doctors said you had to be extra careful." "Was it the same guy?" A quiet laugh passed her lips, and she pressed a kiss to the tops of their heads. "No, it wasn't the same guy. But he's still my friend." "What's his name?" "Is he nice?" "His name's Julius, and yes, he's nice." To a point. That was a line the both of them had toed, and the reason for her current injury. "We just didn't agree on things, which is why we got in a fight. We should have talked about it, but we didn't." "Why not?" "Because sometimes people do things without thinking because they think it's a good choice when it might not be." And that was just about the story of her life summed up in one single, altogether simple sentence.

Both of them hugged her in unison, offering their own form of comfort through physical contact. "I'm glad you're safe, Mama." "Yeah, so am I." Smiling, she returned the embrace. "I'm glad I am too, so I get to be with the two of you. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." But suddenly she was, sucked into a vacuum where she was endless and nothing in an instant, the only sign she was still alive the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Doaba ol'val tru, min larel... Those words that he had spoken to her upon their first meeting echoed in her head, snapshots of their tumultuous time spent together flashing in front of her eyes, only seeming to highlight the most important and prominent moments as one image was replaced swiftly by the next.

And then she was brought back to reality, two pairs of hands shaking her gently. Somehow she had collapsed, conjuring looks of deep concern from the twins. "Are you okay?" "You fell over." "I'm okay. See? Just fine." She pushed herself into a sitting position once again, smiling as if to demonstrate this fact, mind racing behind the facade of that serene expression. Something was wrong. He was gone. Julius, what the hell have you done?

[member="Connor Harrison"], [member="Julius Sedaire"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

He wasn't really keeping a strict data log, as Alec did... There was no particular mission timeline or parameters. This was personal. So he put the time at approximately a week since landing on Kal'Shebbol, roughly. He had taken the time to look up the remnants of [member="Alec Rekali"]'s expedition. Nothing huge in the way of support, but advice and a friendly face. Most of them thought he was mad, going it alone into the territory he was. But then again, he was something Rekali wasn't, in the end. He was... Well... Julius karking Sedaire, as several Alliance operatives had taken to calling him. No more or less brave than Rekali, but with a dash more brash, so to speak.

Smiling, he strode into the cockpit of the insanely modified YT-2400, spacers outfit fitting a little less snug from the constant diet of travel rations. Kal'Shebbol had been good to him. He had won a few credits, found a few new local foods he liked. There had even been a woman or two, though they never held much of his interest. Chasing them was almost a perfunctory habit. Something in that almost rote routine spoke volumes. Regardless, he smiled as the waif of a boy he had picked up as a companion for his stay trundled off into the crowd, carrying a brown paper package wrapped and addressed.

She would think him a fool, but then again.... He was... A sentimental, headstrong, tempermental fool. Too often his heart was on his sleeve and his mind secondary to his gut. Hardly a proper Jedi, and Corellian through and through. Rocket fuel for blood, as the old saying went. Regardless, the battered and faded sabaac card, a rather well drawn Idiot card, was rapped up in the package. No note, no explanation. It was adressed to [member="Keira Ticon"], and he would be surprised if she even got it, much less remembered it.

Part of the journey forward was letting go, or so he told himself.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

The stop at Kolatil was negligible.. Refuel, refit... Traded with some spacers in the local port. A bottle of Corellian whiskey to a man who strongly reminded him of his uncle Jacob. The stuff he got in return was some local brew from the local colony. The smell was pungent, and there was a damned near ritual to drinking it, involving a special spoon, with a sugar he swore he could scent spice in the cube of. Regardless, it did its' job, and he had spent most of a full day staring at the holo-console, his eyes swimming.

That had been a lot of thinking, as he finally came out of the drug induced haze. Hollow feeling and drained, without much emotion. He was unsure some of his past exploits were as righteous as they seemed. But now was not the time for doubt. Shuffling the deck he had picked up on Kal'Shebbol, he began dealing cards for Solitude, a single player game to pass the time. The coordinates were input and directed, and his ship was steadily on course. What he did now was a lot of training, exercise. And this. Card game after card game. For now, his lightsaber rested near him, the same battered plain metal hilt he carried in service to the Republic.

Pembric was up next.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Pembric II... As Rekali's journal stated, it was definitely his kind of place. Plenty of gambling, exotic food. He stayed a few days here, but not as long as at Kal'Shebbol. Paid the rent up on the storage locker, and made a fumble lie about losing his key. Checked on the relay, tuning it and dialing it in a bit. Never hurt to adjust for various temporal changes and hyperspace drift and the like. He also sent word back to a few contacts on Kal'Shebbol about his progress here. He was hoping to form a chain of his own contacts, to make any possible return trip a little easier on things. Not that he was entirely sure the ship would hold together for a return trip.

Regardless, the next bit went out to a man he was hopeful would understand him leaving. [member="Meeristali Peradun"] was a friend, and as close to a brother as he would ever have. The remembrance of him was nothing huge, but then again... That wasn't their way in their friendship. It was simply a box, with a bottle of a smashing local vintage on Pembric, a whiskey to rival Whyren's damn near. That was accompanied by a copy of a picture of them a while back, before the darkness had crept into Julius' mind. Before the distance and coldness had crept into his mannerisms. Both of them grinning, a bit rosy in the cheeks, glasses of liquor in hand, sitting atop stools in an Alliance bar. The galaxy seemed theirs, and he would bet anything they were destined to be heroes then.

Brother, forgive me for abandoning you, and our home with the Alliance. Sometimes, a man must walk alone... You'll understand one day, I hope.

His thoughts echoed sadly as the ship broke atmo on Pembric II, shuddering a bit. The left control rudder was giving him some problems in the various gravity wells. The touch up here had reduced feedback, but he still wasn't quite liking it. Next stop, if he shadowed Rekali's route like he planned to,

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Sebiris. The natives and he were getting on quite well. Some time was spent getting to know them, likely too long, if he were keeping to a schedule. A week? Maybe two, certainly no more than that. There were young males going through some sort of coming of age ritual. In a way, he had joined them. Training with some of their hunters and warriors. Whilst he had lacked some of their natural senses, his Force abilities more than made him almost an equal. As fairness, he had taught some of their hunters and warriors some of his techniques in dueling and tracking. It wasn't as if they were in need of his knowledge, but it was a show of respect and equality.

As a boon, he had a companion now, at least. A young male, curious of the world outside, had signed on. His name was almost incomprehensible. So Julius had made the attempt at compromising and called the young man Ssaul, close enough to his name in Basic. The two had hit it off famously, as Ssaul had almost out-drank Julius one night at the fireside, and was the only one to show a reasonable acumen with the crude training swords he had created. There had been little and less to promise him, but he had proven quite stubborn in his desire to go, and so the Corellian Jedi had relented. Though he had insisted on getting him some slightly more befitting clothes as well.

Julius had read the logs, and decided to try a different idea... He would see how it would work out.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Dolstan was quite a hostile place to his kind of folks, according to Alec. And so he had decided to lurk just outside of the system proper, and then went out and beyond the typical route. Linking up with probes, he managed to mostly avoid the League defenses. Their ship was small, elite, and fast. Where Alec had a fleet, he was one ship. There was a harrowing moment with a few freighters, and he was definitely limping in terms of fine direction, and it had a bit of a stick when engaging the hyper-drive. Things that could be fixed, but they would hamper performance until he got to Jangelle. He had taken on some goods in the hold, just for such a purpose.

Ssaul was adjusting, if slowly, to life as a spacer. Julius had give him a datapad with history lessons and basic culture and the like. It would bring him up to speed. In the evenings, they talked and drank a bit and gambled, or practiced in the various chambers. The young Sibiri was stupendously quick and ruthless, though he favored spear like weapons, the styles his people favored. Julius was learning from him as well. As he taught the repitlian warrior the sword and lightsaber styles he knew, Ssaul taught him the spear. Thus, as the ship made each jump, the two grew to know one another, and the Sibiri showed a stupendous intellect for being raised so primitively.

 

[Keira Priest]

Spoiler

Last post. Promise.

The moment the small package had been delivered Keira knew from where, or rather who, it originated. There was no one else who would have bothered to send her anything, let alone something so meticulously wrapped and unmarked save for her own address. For a long while she had studied it, unopened on the table before her, unwilling to discover what lay within for the closure it would no doubt bring. Some things in life were better left undone, unsaid or unfinished, and their interactions had seemed to be one of those for the longest time. Until now, apparently, because she knew that [member="Julius Sedaire"] was responsible for whatever had been sent to her through the far reaches of space. No one else would have gone to the trouble.

Almost regretfully she reached forward to take the package in hand, tearing through the paper that disguised the contents with a careful hand, not wanting to damage what was within. A single item fell on the table, not making a sound as it dropped, and she let the packaging lay to the side, forgotten. When she picked up the sabacc card she almost dropped it again for the sheer weight she knew it held for the one who had sent it. A brief memory was granted her of him reaching up to thumb the dog-eared corner when they were within his ship, having just landed on Socorro. She ran her finger along that same edge, brow furrowing as her breath hitched in her throat, a tidal wave of emotion momentarily overcoming her where she sat.

A slight shift of the table brought her back to her senses, and she released her grip on the edge, the strength of her cybernetic arm having caused cracks to run along a portion of the surface. It was better than punching a hole in the wall, at least. A slow breath hissed from between her teeth, a feeble attempt to bleed the tension and sheer frustration at her incapacity to do anything from her form. Again her focus was drawn to the card, a small, sad smile turning up the corners of her mouth. She knew this was his own method of wishing her well without saying a word, and this token would be kept close from here on out, almost always on her person. After another few moments she pushed herself to her feet, card held in a loose grip. "I need a drink."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

As the Turhaya limped into Timbra Ott, he sighed a bit, setting down and making overtures. There were at least en-routes and the like established here by Alec, and it didn't take too much. A few bits of knowledge, a nice bit of trading from a convoy that was eager to not reveal who or what they were doing out in this sector of space. Letting the blue painted YT-2400 drift, he set about sharing his rudimentary knowledge of space ship repair with Ssaul. It was discovered it was less exterior damage, and more a fried circuitry. That, at least, Julius could deal with.

Several hours an a bottle of good Corellian Whiskey later, systems were a go. Well, sort of. The turning was much, much smoother. He was still occupied with cursing at a relay for the hyperdrive. It had Ssaul rolling in his curious almost hiccup-hiss like laughter as the Corellian cursed and ranted. There was even a moment where he cursed and tried to kick the offending part. The kick was missed, way wide, and suddenly he was howling and hopping on one leg, shooting dirty glares split between his young ward and the hyperdrive.

Never one to accept defeat, Julius squared to the part with a rubber mallet and a hydrospanner, a long and thin cigarra clenched in his mouth. A few hours later, and the damn thing was running just fine. Granted, if any of the ship still had a warranty, what he had just done would undoubtedly void it. But... Well.. It was fixed. Ssaul stayed behind as the Green Jedi flopped into the cockpit to engage things. He was pretty sure the Sibirian was trying to figure out just how the hyperdrive was working, when a shower of sparks hit him in the face from it engaging. A pop followed, along with the strong smell of ozone. Julius assured him it was normal as he tapped the coordinates in, closing his eyes to adjust course instinctively with the aid of the compass he had bonded with.

And that was when he sent a message to a man he admired, but barely knew, as the stars blurred to streaks of light.

[member="Jorus Merrill"] -

You don't know me well... We met a few times in Underground related things. I wish you were here for advice. I've gone and taken the Rekali girls travel logs, and am heading to the logical conclusion of any route into the Kathol regions - the Monks of the Ang Tii. Told you have some experience with them. In case I don't come back, I figured you should know I found Socorro. And I found the Academy that used to be there. A lot of it underground is still usable. I'm sending coordinates. There's a small hab structure and villa above the catacomb ruins. Use if for base running if you need to, I'll be out of the world for a spell anyhow.

J.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Julius Sedaire"]-

I remember you well enough. You did some good with us, and we'd be glad to see you back. I'm sending you some access codes and local contacts for the Underground's network in the Kathol Outback. We've got a good presence there, and Alec Rekali made us some friends.

I've never met the Aing-Tii Monks myself, but my sister Rave studied with them for a spell. So to speak. There's no shortcut to reaching them. Rekali made it most of the way, and her logs are your best bet for doing the same, but the Monks weren't her goal. I've got some of my sister's notes on the Aing-Tii religion, which believe you me is essential survival knowledge out there. Also sending some blueprints for a pheromonal translator, which you can get fabricated in the Kathol Republic or on Exocron. No other way to talk to the Aing-Tii except mind-to-mind, and that's not for everyone.

If your ship breaks down, the Kathol Republic's your best bet for a new one. Also, the Silk HALCYON space trains are strung from Kal'Shebbol to Demonsgate, though that's going to take even longer than Rekali's voyage. Still, it's a decent backup option.

Couple things to know. Aing-Tii ships don't travel in hyperspace like most. Far as my sister could reckon, and this was her area of expertise, they just amplify the Monks' ability to teleport. A group of meditating monks serves the Sanhedrim ships in place of a hyperdrive. Their weapons systems are nasty at short range - energy flowers that shear ships apart. Know that the Aing-Tii are absolute death on slavers, and have gone as far as Exocron to make their opinions known. Oh, and pay close attention to Rekali's Qektoth logs. The Qektoth will wreck you if you blink wrong. She got lucky.

Anything else I can do, just let me know.

J. Merrill

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Thankfully, the relay was already up and running when he made it to Sapella. Almost, there was a regret not keeping time. But he wasn't exactly on a time schedule. And he didn't particularly have a plan for making it back. There was a terse moment before he had accepted Ssaul and his company where he had told the young reptilian that. Unnervingly enough, the Sibirian had merely nodded in that head-bob way of his, his entire spine and such rippling with it, and hissed his odd laugh. The only reply was that of utter trust and faith. Julius just couldn't fathom it really.

The stop at Sapella was only to check for any waves sent his way. The reply from Jorus was more than welcome. A rare and true smile crossed his face, not the cocky grin usually on it, at the impression he apparently made on the fellow Corellian. The blue-prints were sent ahead to a contact he had found in Rekalis' logs for Jangelle. Hopefully they would have it ready on his arrival, or a good start. There were some various things he had bargained for from the Rekali's and elsewhere that should be monstrously popular on Jangelle. Little bits here and there. Tech gadgets and the like, highly accurate and updated star maps more coreward, etc... Not enough to help a fleet, but enough to help the two of them...

Ritualistically, he closed his eyes as he charted course to Jangelle, letting his instinct guide him to make a few tweaks that may or may not save time, and slammed the throttle forward. Stars blurred, and they were off. This time without one of his goodbyes. Jangelle would have more than enough time planetside for repair that he could do it then.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Arrival had been... Difficult.... A bounty hunter had been waiting for him when he arrived on Jangelle. That had caused a bit of a ruckus. Apparently whoever he had given the slip to had taken offense to it. It was a terse stand-off and a heavy moment, with a few people pointing blasters at he and Ssaul. When the issue was pressed, he had been forced to respond in a regrettable fashion. The 'pressure' had been in the form of a blaster bolt fired at him with a fairly deadly precision. Were there any other standing in his shoes, it likely would have been a kill-shot. However, he was a Jedi. Loathe as he was to ignite a saber, as soon as the bolt streaked out at him, he had done so. The red energy was batted aside, and he only attacked when one went at Ssaul with a pair of vibro-knives.

The one who charged Ssaul found himself quickly beaten down by the Sibirian himself, the hefty spear in his hands making short work of the assailant before he could even get in his reach. The other two, including the one with the rather nasty heavy blaster, were taken down by Kathol Republic and its' security forces. Julius had extinguished his saber and he had placed it on the ground at his feet and held his hands above his head, indicating Ssaul to do the same. There were a few moments of tension as he explained things as he knew it. A few hours in a holding cell, and then they were released. They hadn't done anything to the Pembrellians, so they had been let out on monitoring. There was even a bit of paper in his pocket with the desk sergeants number. She was a cute one.. Maybe later...

 

[Julius Sedaire]

As he waited, he experienced what shore leave he could have. And here was where he reluctantly parted from Ssaul. The lad had found a mercenary company wanting his services, and Julius had seen the fire in his eyes. With his blessing, he had let him go. Along with a fair sum of credits, and good gear and weaponry bought local. The outfit was based on Dayark, so he would have to try and stop by at some point and see his companion when he could. There was a long night of drinking as farewell, and when he made the comm to his next few recepients, there may or may not have been several females of various species sleeping in the bed around him. Bah... The two he contacted here would know him well enough.

[member="Darius Sedaire"] -

Son. I know you'll probably not get this. I gave you the lead on your birth parents and not seen or heard from you since. I assume you're out in the Galaxy, chasing a lead and questing for yourself. I wish you luck. I am in the Kathol Outback now, on the edge of the Kathol Republic actually. I hope this finds you well. There is little I can send or say to make up for all the years we lost. But I hope you find what you seek. If not, then the Galaxy is a cruel place. You deserve all the riches of all the worlds. I hope you find them.

J.

The next he sent as a holo-message as well, though he had the decency to move to the kitchenette of the apartment he had rented. A sheet wrapped around him as he puffed a bit on a slender, short cigarra, a rocks glass of whiskey to hand. He didn't even know when, or if, she would get this...

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] -

Been a while. I must say I hope your house got repaired, I sent as much money as I could spare, and contacted the best people I know to help in the repairs. Hopefully it panned out. I haven't seen of heard a whiff of you in what seems like forever. I wish you the best. I won't likely be heard from by you again. So here's what I came to say that night in your house: You saved me. For that I thank you. I'm not much of one to brag, but I like my life, and you have made it possible. There is nothing I possess that could repay it. If I ever make my way back Coreward, maybe I'll look you up.

J.