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Running- From all I've known.

Saran Drast

Saran sat, cross-legged, on the floor of her Defender-class light cruiser. The pilot would be here soon, and she would be off. If anyone wanted to say goodbye, or attempt to talk her out of it, now was the time. The Tython spaceport was little-used, and she could sense someone familiar nearby.

She had failed on both Ossus and Dac. She had nearly died, twice, and had been of no help at all. What she needed.was to find what the galaxy needed, not what the order wanted. She wasn't leaving the order, unless they made her, but she didn't want to stay, when the thing she seemed worst at, war, was right up top of the agenda. And so this was her start. Wandering the galaxy, doing what was needed, that was her job. Her destiny.