Private New home amongst shields of faith and swords of light (AC)

[Harli (018-A)]

Location: Bosph

Another day, another refugee shuttle bringing the tired, broken and lost. Many fleeing the Sith or some other form of tyranny, others had watched their homes turned to ash and had nowhere else to go. Whatever the case, many arrived here with the same goal. Find somewhere safe to settle down and start again, a place to call home. So they poured out of the shuttle carrying what little belongings they had, sometimes barely more than the clothes on their backs.

However one of these individuals was a little different than the rest. She wasn't very tall, but had an athletic build and dark brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her worn slate gray poncho covered her equally worn dark brown tunic, which she wore over a black long sleeved armorweave shirt. The brown cargo pants and black combat boots had also seen better days. Strapped to her back was a faded olive green duffel bag. Both hands and forearms were wrapped in cloth from the palms almost to the elbow. The right arm hid a tattoo, the left was from a recent injury.

What set her apart wasn't her physical appearance, but rather her reason for being here. Sure she was looking for a new start to life, but she wasn't a refugee. She had no home to flee from, in fact she didn't even know where she was originally from. That didn't matter, she was here now and ready to see what this planet held.

Harli joined the rest of the crowd as they queued by the exit. The shorter teen stood on her toes to try and see what was happening. Ahead of her was what looked like an officer checking people's IDs. That...wasn't good, she didn't have a single form of identification. That was okay, she could bluff her way out of this, she just needed a convincing story. She needed...

"Identification, please." Harli almost jumped at the voice. The line had gone much quicker than expected. "I...don't have it." The officer almost questioned her lack of I.D before giving her a quick glance. "How old are you?" "Sixteen." "Parents or any legal guardian?" Harli shook her head no. The officer was silent for a moment as he turned and typed something into the desk terminal. "have a seat on that bench right there. Someone will be out momentarily." Harli almost protested but realized that might make things worse. The teen sat down on the bench, holding her injured arm closer to her chest. She had traveled almost halfway across the galaxy and not once ran into this problem. Honestly she should have known better than to think it wouldn't happen eventually. Now she had no choice but to sit and wait.

Cedric Grayson

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The six-limbed Bosph security guards were something Cedric was still getting used to. He'd worked alongside many aliens in the past, but few were as strange to look at as the namesake of the Crusade's current staging grounds. The Bosphs had agreed to host the Crusade and any refugees under its protection so long as the Crusade helped maintain the peace between the Clade of the Farseers and the other clades seeking to usurp its position of power. In exchange, the Bosphs lent their arms and armor to the cause, as well as the massive grassy fields outside their cities that would serve to house the newcomers.

Cedric had been in the midst of overseeing the construction of one of the dozens of new towns being erected around the capital city when a call come over the local secnet. Something about a girl with no proper identification or guardians being detained at a checkpoint by the starport. Deciding that he could afford himself a break, the exile mumbled into his comms about responding, and turned his speeder bike toward the port.

The journey was a short one, the Bosphs that had detained the girl snapping off crisp two armed salutes as he strode through the checkpoint. He was clad in the full regalia of his station, the hints of gold and silver that accented the phrik plating gleaming in the pale illumination of the checkpoint's cheap office lights. These days, he went just about everywhere in his war-gear: the bounty hunters and Sith assassins that came for him never seemed to stop. Better to always be prepared.

"It's dangerous to travel alone on this side of the galaxy, especially if you lack identification," Cedric stated in greeting as he sat alongside the girl on the bench. "Make a wrong turn and you find yourself in the Sith's domain. Do that without a chain code, and you'll quickly find yourself in the slave mines," the exile paused, his brow furrowing behind his mask as he examined the girl within the depths of the empyrean. The energies of the immaterial moved silently about her form, dormant for now, but dangerous if tempered properly. "Or in your case, much worse." He added.

The Essonian reached up to draw back his cowl, and removed his helmet with a popping of pressure shortly thereafter. He was getting to be an older man now, though his hair was still jet black as it had ever been. Tired blue eyes peered at the girl from a face that might have been handsome once, but had been marred by extensive scarring and bits of slightly discolored synth flesh that ruined whatever symmetry his features might have once had.

"Who are you girl?"

Harli (018-A)

 

[Harli (018-A)]

Harli stared at her bandaged hands as she contemplated what she should do next. That was until a voice drew her attention. Her hazel eyes turned to the armored man as he sat next to her. Honestly, she had expected another guard or some other law enforcement officer, but definitely not this. She averted her gaze momentarily as he began to state what could have happened if she was caught without identification in some places. This was something she was all too aware of, but kept that opinion to herself.

Her attention went back to the man as he removed his cowl and helmet. He looked like a man who had seen his fair share of battles. Definitely more than her. Harli almost hesitated when he asked her name. "Harli."

Cedric Grayson

 

[Cedric Grayson]

It was only in times like this, when Cedric was confronted with youth, that he realized how much time had passed since he’d taken the crown of Ession. His service had extended well behind twenty-five years at this point, and he was getting closer and closer to his fortieth summer with every passing day. So much time had passed, and yet so little had changed.

“It’s nice to meet you Harli,” he spoke to her warmly, and the smile he affixed her with was equally pleasant, almost paternal in its nature. “My name is Cedric. I, erm, work with the government here.” He had no idea what the girl’s situation was, or why she’d come out this far. There wasn’t much point in scaring her with titles. “I fancy myself a Jedi, if that were not obvious,” he added, tapping the lightsaber at his belt indicatively.

“What brings you to Bosph? Do you have family here?” He asked, a brow lofting. Perhaps she was her people were fleeing the Sith, or maybe the unfortunate reality was that she was alone. Either way, Cedric wasn’t the sort to leave a child to the unpleasantness of customs if he could help it.

Harli (018-A)

 

[Harli (018-A)]

Harli gave a slight hum and nod Cedric brought up the fact that he was a Jedi of sorts. The was a little obvious, in a way, but she had never seen a Jedi dressed so....elaborately before. Then the real questions began, why was she here. A question that wasn't as easily answered as most of the people arriving here. "I came here because I have nowhere else to go." A short answer to start with and an honest one. "As far as family here, no, I don't have any. I...actually don't even know if I have family anywhere."

Now came the harder part to explain. "I don't know where I came from, or...my real name for that matter. A few weeks ago I woke up in a stasis pod on a ship. I...kinda broke free and escaped before finding out what was really happening. After that, I sort of roamed around. That's how I ended up here." It was an honest story, but at the same time terribly hard to believe. Most people didn't just wake up in a stasis pod and begin to wander the galaxy for no reason.

Cedric Grayson

 

[Cedric Grayson]

they lived in chaotic times, and it seemed the girl was just another result of them.

The crease of the exile's brow deepened as the child told her story, or rather recounted the lack of it. He had heard such tales before, especially in this sector of space. The most common authority was often that of the Sith, and they cared little about organic experimentation or any other such unholy endeavors. It was not uncommon for the leftovers of these experiments to be left to their own devices, be that lingering in a stasis pod, or being let loose upon the galaxy to sow terror wherever they walked.

This one did not seem dangerous, but the Cedric had been deceived by seeming innocence before. The Force clung to her as it did any apprentice- she might have well been a Sith spy with a particular penchant for lying. If that were the case, however, then why not simply hide her signature within the empyrean in its entirety?

He privately concluded that she probably wasn't lying.

"That sounds harrowing," genuine sympathy laced the exile's words. "An amnesiac then. Perhaps you were placed in the pod to try and treat you." He suggested, "Though...perhaps not. If you've nowhere to go, there might be a place for you here, if you want it. The Ashlan Church is open to anyone that might need a place to stay. Our bishops would take good care of you, or if that does not appeal, we are constructing refugee housing just south of this city. We could provide you with work, a roof to sleep under, and the care you need to try and figure out what has happened to you. Such is our duty to the people."

He paused, "So...you truly do not remember anything? Not even a name?"

Harli (018-A)

 

[Harli (018-A)]

Harli listened to what Cedric Grayson had to say. The man she had just met was offering her a place to stay, a place to actually start something. Naturally she had a lot of questions, but the main one she had to ask first. "What's the Ashlan Church?"

The teen simply shook her head when asked if she truly didn't remember anything "Not really no. There's some really foggy memories, but I can't place anything on them. I can't even begin to remember my name." Harli undid the cloth wrap on her forearm to reveal the number 018-A tattooed there. "This was on my arm when I woke up. I'm not sure what it's for."

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Things generally happened according to the Ashla's will, but there were times when events transpired that did not necessarily work accordingly with the grand plan. Cedric was uncertain as to whether this was an instance of the former or the latter, but he was keen on not making any judgements too quickly. Try as he might, he could not shake the private inkling that this might have well been a Sith trick, but he could certainly choose not to indulge his paranoia.

His expression was one of calm curiosity, hiding the uncertainty within him quite well. "Perhaps a tattoo from your prior life, or maybe some sort of identifier, from where though I have no idea." The exile muttered, his brow furrowing as he examined the tattoo. It reminded him of a product code, but he wasn't going to tell the girl that.

"The church is...well, it is many things, but primarily it is an organization built with the intention of watching over the Ashlan flock. The Ashla is the faith of my people. We believe she is our goddess, the source of the Force, and when we die, we will return to her and our loved ones in paradise. Do you know what the Force is?"

He paused.

"And...do you know what you might like to be called? I can just call you girl, but I think that might be a little rude."

Harli (018-A)