Shakrin
Member
He read it again.
Go to Felucia. You will find answers there, ancient secrets long forgotten. Do not leave until you find them. You will know.
The message was, without a doubt, the most cryptic thing he'd ever read. There was no tracing it. He'd paid to have someone try, which he rarely ever did because he didn't normally care about strange transmissions with no sense of what was behind them offered. This was different. He felt compelled to do as the thing said. Why? Not even he knew. There was no name attached to it, no reason for it to have come. Not unless it was the ploy of a reckless, if not bold, bounty hunter. That was something he very much doubted. No one would know how to directly send him a message. His datapad was heavily encrypted. Tracking him was a statistical improbability, as was contacting him. This was strange.
He'd sat up on the small cot in the cheap room he'd rented on Taris. It wasn't much, but he'd never really cared about what his accommodations looked like. Such things were beneath him. The squabbles of those who sought the money to purchase elaborate dwellings were things he looked down upon with disdain. It was a waste of both money and effort. Why not use it for things to make the galaxya better place rather than to spend in excess? He would never like people like that.
Leaving it all behind, he went to the spaceport and climbed into his Skipray. He powered up the engines while he waited for clearance to lift off. No part of him really understood his desire to do what the message had said, but he was doing it anyway. When his clearance came, he lifted off and streaked into the sky, pushing the gunboat away from the planets gravity well as he used the navigational computer to plot the most direct route to Felucia. When he cleared the gravity well, he pushed the ship into hyperspace and then sat back to wait. He often found the ship to be a lonely thing. There were seats for four other people in the 12J, but he was the only other person ever in it. Such was life.
Sometime later, the ship exited hyperspace and he performed a cursory scan of the system. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were a few blips and such from ships that he assumed were there because of the Ithorian colony, but no one seemed to come after him. He flew the ship down to the planets surface in an uninhabited sector, the rear assembly switching to landing mode before he settled it down. Powering the vessel down, he climbed out of his seat and walked over to grab his exploration gear. Chiefly he had some rations, a survival tent, a solid vibroblade, and twin blaster pistols that resided in place on either hip. It would keep him alive in a hostile environment.
Without knowing what he was looking for, he was assuming he'd be there for days. Leaving the ship behind, he marked its location in his tracking system, and then set off on foot. Whatever it was he was looking for, he was going to find.
@[member="Soah Jai"]
Go to Felucia. You will find answers there, ancient secrets long forgotten. Do not leave until you find them. You will know.
The message was, without a doubt, the most cryptic thing he'd ever read. There was no tracing it. He'd paid to have someone try, which he rarely ever did because he didn't normally care about strange transmissions with no sense of what was behind them offered. This was different. He felt compelled to do as the thing said. Why? Not even he knew. There was no name attached to it, no reason for it to have come. Not unless it was the ploy of a reckless, if not bold, bounty hunter. That was something he very much doubted. No one would know how to directly send him a message. His datapad was heavily encrypted. Tracking him was a statistical improbability, as was contacting him. This was strange.
He'd sat up on the small cot in the cheap room he'd rented on Taris. It wasn't much, but he'd never really cared about what his accommodations looked like. Such things were beneath him. The squabbles of those who sought the money to purchase elaborate dwellings were things he looked down upon with disdain. It was a waste of both money and effort. Why not use it for things to make the galaxya better place rather than to spend in excess? He would never like people like that.
Leaving it all behind, he went to the spaceport and climbed into his Skipray. He powered up the engines while he waited for clearance to lift off. No part of him really understood his desire to do what the message had said, but he was doing it anyway. When his clearance came, he lifted off and streaked into the sky, pushing the gunboat away from the planets gravity well as he used the navigational computer to plot the most direct route to Felucia. When he cleared the gravity well, he pushed the ship into hyperspace and then sat back to wait. He often found the ship to be a lonely thing. There were seats for four other people in the 12J, but he was the only other person ever in it. Such was life.
Sometime later, the ship exited hyperspace and he performed a cursory scan of the system. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were a few blips and such from ships that he assumed were there because of the Ithorian colony, but no one seemed to come after him. He flew the ship down to the planets surface in an uninhabited sector, the rear assembly switching to landing mode before he settled it down. Powering the vessel down, he climbed out of his seat and walked over to grab his exploration gear. Chiefly he had some rations, a survival tent, a solid vibroblade, and twin blaster pistols that resided in place on either hip. It would keep him alive in a hostile environment.
Without knowing what he was looking for, he was assuming he'd be there for days. Leaving the ship behind, he marked its location in his tracking system, and then set off on foot. Whatever it was he was looking for, he was going to find.
@[member="Soah Jai"]