Jedi Knight

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Desbre sat in the captain's chair watching the timer tick down. As it reached zero the little Loronar ship she'd had for years reverted to realspace. The mottled blue sky of hyperspace shattered into starlines. They leaped back, resolving into the cold hard pinpricks of stars. The tiny purple and gold marble of Zeltros rushed headlong toward the ship before coming to a screeching halt. It loomed large ahead. Or so it seemed. Desbre always loved the feeling of unimaginable speed and the momentary rush of that reversion.

Unlike some worlds she visited, space around Zeltros was busy. Multiple stations and skyhooks were in orbit and hundreds of ships, skyhoppers, and pleasure craft floated about. It wasn't as choked as some places, but it was busy night or day.
A moment later ATC queried her ship and the one flying in tandem with hers. She flashed her ident, then Jedi credentials. Before long they received a course and berth down at the capital. Moving through the lines of ships, they loafed past a few defense platforms. There seemed to be a decent defensive perimeter, but nothing too overt or oppressive. Mostly she filed this away in the back of her mind as she did for most other related things.

In less than an hour, she was making her approach. Skyscrapers jutted up from the landscape on the night side. Holoboards advertized clubs and all number of 'services' or 'experiences'. The lurid neon glow painted her ship in warm tones inside and out through the thin atmospheric haze. Ahead she spotted the landing lights of the starport and began making the approach. Settling down on the pad, she killed the repulsors and began shutting everything down.
"Well, we're here, now what," she muttered to the empty air. Taking a moment, she connected to the HoloNet and the local datalinks. She began sucking in updates to her software and navigation data while trying to discover what Jedi presence was on the planet. This she shunted to her datalink and stuffed it in her pocket before heading out.
She didn't dress in typical Jedi fashion at the moment. Instead, she chose a pair of dark pants and calf-high nerf hide boots, along with a plain gray top that clung to her frame. Over that went her racing jacket from home. The jacket itself was worn and scuffed, but she refused to replace it, or the patches she'd collected. With it went a small vibro knife, a holdout pistol, and inside, her lightsaber rested on a hanger where she could get to it easy. Even on Zeltros she wouldn't be going unarmed. It might be a pleasure world, but she could still wind up someone's plaything otherwise. Though attacking even a padawan was a grave error. Much less one that trained nearly to death and pushed way too hard.

For the moment, Des found herself wandering aimlessly through the spaceport. She wasn't entirely sure why she'd circled back toward the core, other than following her gut. But so far it hadn't lead her wrong, and she wondered if it was the Will of the Force guiding her. She'd heard of others speak on the matter, but she wasn't sure she bought into it yet. But it did guide her actions at times. Perhaps now was one of those times.