Private Through muddy waters, one last time...

[Julius Sedaire]

Location: Socorran Jedi Enclave, Socorro
Music Theme
​

It wasn't every day you reached out to your retired friend to tell him you wrecked the masterpiece of a vehicle he had made you. But after Dromund Kaas, Julius had little choice. Over the years he had grown used to the old boat, so when he had pulled it into dock and Tessa asked what they were keeping from the scrap, he had damn near shed a tear. But even his prodigy of a daughter had said some of the things Jorus had done to make the ship work just didn't make sense to her. Parts functioned in ways they shouldn't, or did things they were certainly not made for. After weeks, she had finally resorted to a display of her Sedaire temper by throwing a spanner at the thing and rounding on her recently met father and telling him to call the crazy bastard who made it, as she was done with trying to make it make sense.

And so he had. Right then and there. Sent the coordinates, and settled into training and healing after the battle, and waiting. A good deal of the last one. There wasn't much hope Jorus was even alive, but he was giving it a suitable amount of time before he gave in to his brother Cal and nephew Liam and let them design him some hyper-new C.E.C. monstrosity. Partly he refused to admit the old mechanic might not be up to the task after the Lifeday party with Tiland Kortun . The other part was hope. Tessa reminded him so much of Jorus in talents, and sometimes in gruff attitude and blunt practicality. Maybe Jorus could show her a thing or two that might get her to settle and develop her talents more.

So in a hammock near a rock formation that served as a hidden gateway to the Enclave, he waited, dressed in spacer trash chic, bandaged and with a slight limp. He was nursing a torn muscle and watching the sun sink as he played a harmonica to the tune of an old Corellian ballad about and old timer on one last quest. Maybe today would be the last day he waited. But tomorrow might not be unreasonable... He had the time, after all.

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"The fuck you do to yourself, bud?"

Jorus wore a net shirt, a floppy hat, and — on his shoulders — the makings of a spectacular sunburn. Socorro was treating him unkindly.

"Got anything to do with those refugee boats coming through from the Daragon? Up the Kamat Krote, right?"

Why yes, he did understand planets — even important ones like Dromund Kaas — primarily as waypoints along hyperlanes.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

"As it happens, yes. Fought Taeli Raaf and a dozen or so of her fanatics with Wyatt. We've formed a sort of Jedi strike squad. The Empire remnants were understandably not chuffed at our activities, so... Well... That ship you made me sorta needs some repairs."

Standing, he shook his head slowly at Jorus and couldn't stop the broad grin at his old friend.

"Lets get you inside before you need a burn unit. We can talk over food, and I'll introduce you to Tessa... She is..."

A loud clanging rang out from the comm unit at his shoulder, followed by hissing static and a roar of rage...

"ARRRRRRGH! WHOEVER BUILT THIS KARKING THING HAS SOME DAMN EXPLAINING TO DO! Oh... Hi uh... dad.. Ignore the alarms... Hangar isn't on fire or anything..."

Grimacing, Julius tossed Jorus a bottle of BanthaSoft sunburn cream from the pack he picked up and nodded to the archway.

"We should probably stop her before she gets really mad"

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

Jorus fumbled the catch, picked up the tube, and slathered half the burn cream on his shoulders before he even got inside.

Inside, the source of the frustration turned out to be the temperamental proclivities of a heavily freckled young spacer. She was venting her spleen upon a poor innocent ship whose best days were recently but irrevocably in the past.

" Tessa Sedaire ?" he called up the shipwreck. "I'm Whoever Built This Karking Thing, but my friends call me Built This."

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

As Julius stepped back a bit, Tessa jabbed at an engine cowling that was half pried off, indicating a mess of after-market parts and modifications that were smoking ominously and pointed the spanner at Jorus Q. Merrill

"Then what the FETH is THAT?!"

Jabbing at the part, the spanner clinked against a bolt, and the engine proceeded to simply shear off, hit the ground, sputter as if going to ignite and spin around the open bay and come to rest against a wall with the grease coated ginger eyeing it suspiciously.

"And how did it do that without being connected to fuel or power?! You some sort of alien, mister?"

In the background, Julius grinned sheepishly at the two and just hoped they didn't notice his own attempts at repair as he slunk towards the hangar exit.

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"It's not magic, Freckles," Jorus said as the detached engine crashed down to earth. He glopped on the rest of that burn cream. "Just a couple hoses going sideways."

He glanced back to ensure that Julius was out of earshot.

"Look, don't waste your time. There's two kinds of good salvage — the kind you can fly away once you patch it up, and the kind you use to do the patching up. Your Daddy's Wanderlust is not the first kind."

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

The odd frankness and easy way of both insulting and explaining reminded her of her father, but somehow less cheese and more engine grease. Her dad was like a cat, prone to antics and spazzing out. This guy seemed more bear like, and the beard helped it.

"The covenant needs a ship. And I told him I'd figure it out. But even without the damage, this thing is a mess grampa. It's got circuits with bits of kyber, at one point I think I saw a chewing tabaac lid acting like a relay, and there was a metallic food wrapper from McYoda's covering a spliced wire. But... He came and found me. He's... Trying... So I told him i'd try... But even these don't do much to help me understand it..."

Holding up her hands, laced through with Force Imbued songsteel and glowing faintly as she wiggled her fingers, stopping when the wiggling stopped, she shrugged.

"All I know is it this wreck feels like it has five minds and ten hearts. And a ship needs to be whole to fly. So what do we do if it ain't the first kind? I'm not a shipwright. Couldn't afford that school growing up."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"Covenant." He grimaced at bad old memories of being, and being around, Jedi who suffered from various degrees of being a dick. But Julius wouldn't hitch his wagon to that sort of crew, not permanently.

"I'll build him a boat. Him, not whatever this Covenant crap is." Jorus chewed the inside of his cheek in thought. "If they've got the money, and every other Jedi Master's a millionaire CEO, I can get the right folks on the horn. Cash for good techs, cash for a spaceframe — a nice used ship to build off. Socorro's close enough to decent lanes and old stomping grounds, shouldn't take long."

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

"Just a bunch of old has beens taking to fighting the remnants of the Sith. Dad was in a bottle when the Bryn and Maw became a thing, so he feels like he owes this New Order something for not being there to train them and teach them how to fight. They're all mostly well off, but he is rich. He bought some distillery and then turned it over to operators. And his brother owns CEC apparently."

Stopping for a moment, the freckled twenty-something turned to regard the old man with a sharp eye.

"You don't like Jedi much... But my dad, he's not a part of that for you. You got a soft spot, grampa? You can work out of here if you need, I just want to watch and help. The old man can't fly to save his life and if I'm going to be flying it for him, it needs to be up to snuff..."

As she said this, the detached engine pointedly sputtered, spat flame, and spin 180 again in a shower of sparks.

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"Nah, do this right, we need a real workspace. I've got an old bulk freighter, the big ugly one past the edge of town — the Gossamer. No cargo right now, just empty decks. When my contacts get here, that's where I'll set'em up.

"My old droid, Saggy, you want to help him tractor this wreck into the hold so we can get to stripping the carcass? Or you want to be the one to tell your dad his boat—" Jorus winced as that engine began smoking like a Mos Espa tabac vendor. "—is all done going places under its own power? Or both, both is fine.'

He ignored the Jedi comment for now. The ship mod was a lot more interesting.

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

Jorus Q. Merrill would be surprised when she looked at Jorus consideringly before speaking. Emotions regarding Julius, beyond resentment, were new and it was obvious she herself was torn.

"He was so proud of that old thing. That you made him a ship. That the Jorus Merrill made him a ship. He's no pilot, but he didn't do half bad with it. Maybe we tell him we're working on fixing it, and then present the other. Might soften the blow..."

Picking up a bag to the side, she began tossing her kit into it, speaking to him over her shoulder casually.

"Besides. I want to see every bolt put in place. Julius talks about you like a shipwright and piloting god. And if I'm going to do the same things, who better to learn from? Lead the way, grampa..."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"None of that's deserved. I'm no real shipwright — not compared to a pro like my wife. Not even that great a pilot at sublight. If I'm a god of anything it's murettes, tetanus shots, and spacer tape." He made a vaguely ceremonial gesture. "I ordain you a cleric of my Holy Order of the Rusty Hydrospanner. Let's get to it, cleric."

---

Within two hours the Gossamer had drawn the wreck into one of its cargo bays, and a convenient spaceframe into another, and settled back down at the edge of town. Calls had gone out and old techs started drifting in, lured by the promise of decent ucks. Jorus set up shop at a holo-overlay workboard with the spaceframe's blueprints on it.

The Gossamer was close to a mile long sand cavernous, a true bulk freighter. The spaceframe, an Uukaablian picket carrier, took up most of one of the holds. Already there were pit droids swarming all over, stripping out well-known connection points and spots for mods.

"Uukaablian Mystra-class, from the deep Kathol Outback. Pretty common ship all through the old Coalition sectors. Tons of room for the good stuff."

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

"It has the Outback look, from what I can see. I see a lot of potential, though I like the CEC stuff myself. And Roble."

To say Jorus displayed overly humble protestation was an understatement, and Tessa learned much just listening to the old space grumble about his deficiencies and the process itself as she did when he was specifically teaching. Regardless of the humor being shared, she had taken to sprinkling parts in machine oil and intoning serious sound prayers in bits of Huttese, though whether Jorus shared his new 'clerics' sense of humor wasn't entirely certain. But she had learned not to turn the drive core on before the buffer panels were fully installed. THAT was an adventure.

Jorus Q. Merrill