Velusian Daydreamng

[Craig Janson]

~ [member="Kala'ndryl Ryj"] ~​

CORONET CITY, CORELLIA

Craig sat on the sundeck of the Corellian Engineering Corporation’s rooftop executive lounge, The Starmens’ Club, high atop their corporate headquarters watching the lights begin the spring to life across Coronet City. As a former graduate of Corellia University’s advanced starship engineering program, he was granted guest privileges at the club – a gesture the company made to all CU’s engineering graduates mainly as a recruiting tool. Craig was celebrating the successful negotiation of a purchasing agreement with CEC rather than looking for a job, but, the location was convenient and familiar.

He leaned on the railing remembering the last time he was here. It was nearly three years ago and he had been there to meet an old college classmate, Jon Burke, to discuss his support in financing the beginnings of Craig’s proposed business venture. Jon’s investment and Burke Enterprises expertise helped Craig start a starship repair and renovation service that rapidly grew to three locations. Craig wished Jon was here to thank. His friend had been missing for over a year and several of the Burke family’s rivals were pressing to have him declared legally dead.

Craig tipped his glass of Whyren’s to Jon’s memory and recalled some of the stories he told him that night after he’d had more than his share of the Corellian delicacy. The most interesting were tales of a secret pirate base on a southern island on Velusia. Craig always thought Jon had been pulling his leg, telling a tall tale, but, somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered.

His business on Corellia was completed and he had several weeks before he could meet with the executives of MandalMotors. He planned to return home and work on enlargement plans for their first shipyard, but, a new thought struck. He’d worked non-stop for three years. Perhaps it was time for a vacation. A few days on a water world sounded like just the thing, and, perhaps he could put Jon’s stories to the test. He toasted Jon again, took another sip and began making his plans to visit Velusia.

VELUSIA

As a former Republic fighter pilot, traveling this close to Sith space made his skin crawl. Velusia was officially in the Republic, but, it also lay in the very shadow of Coruscant – the new lair of the One Sith.

Of course, the old freighter he was piloting was more likely to attract some of Jon’s pirate friends than a Sith patrol. His team had purposely rebuilt it to be minimally threatening with a single automated turbo laser battery to discourage any of the aforementioned pirates, but, not enough armament to draw the attention of any patrol ships – Sith or otherwise. So far, it seemed to be working. The few ships he’d seen paid him no attention what-so-ever and never even deviated from their courses.

The scarcity of traffic in the space lanes was a mystery to Craig. Velusia was a water world that apparently had a multitude of volcanic islands which in turn had numerous beaches of both black volcanic sand and pure white sand made of white quartz particles. Coreward, Coruscant is its nearest neighbor. It seemed to Craig that the masses from that ecumenopolis would have flocked here for vacations. Perhaps he would solve that mystery with this visit.

Craig was atmospheric, making a slow pass within sight of Mount Hollow, the planet’s only starport. On his chart, he plotted a vector from Mount Hollow in a direction Jon had mentioned in his rambling dissertation about the planet. If Jon’s story had any validity, at approximately 1100 kilometers down that course he would find a large equatorial island; the southern coastline of which was the former home of Jon’s pirate friends. According to Jon, there was a landmark that would be impossible to miss. Craig grinned at the excitement he was feeling as he approached the island growing in the distance. Now for that landmark…

Holy Crap! It was there!

In the crystal clear water just off the southern coast of the island lay the rusted, skeletal remains of a Venator-class star destroyer. The fact that the pirates apparently gave the ship the odd name of the Crimson Ferret’s Revenge didn’t make it any less impressive. Frankly amazed and anxious to find out what else he would find on the island, Craig began a circling descent looking for a place to land.

 

[Kala'ndryl Ryj]

It sounded like the beginning to a terrible holofilm, really. Girl goes to a planet with a bad reputation. Ends up in a seedy cantina, talking to a stranger in a dark corner. Listens to an amazing story, full of pirates, adventure, intrigue, danger, and it even ends in betrayal.

If Kala had not ben that girl, and had been told the tale after the fact, she’d have had the person committed to an asylum for what they were about to do.

But she was that girl. The one in the smoky cantina on Tattooine, listening with utter fascination to the woman that told the story. Her voice hushed, a touch of gravel to her tone that was more than a guttural accent Kala couldn’t place. It was a tale that was hours in the telling, warranting multiple rounds of drinks and even something that had vaguely resembled dinner.

It was those eyes, however, that held truth within them. Even had she been without her power within the Force, she’d have known the woman wasn’t lying. There was too much pain and agony writ in her gaze and guilt carried on slender shoulders. Perhaps, yes, a good actor could have replicated the ‘performance’...but she would have spotted the falsehood of it in an instant.

That lambent crimson gaze, twin orbs that seemed to burn their way out of the shadows that clung to her...that, in the end, was what convinced her more than anything else.

---

The journey to Velusia was not one the young Jedi undertook lightly. It sat on the cusp of Sith territory, a mere stone’s throw away from Coruscant. Its closest celestial neighbor was also its greatest threat. But Kala went anyway, unable to resist the pull of the planet. Wanting to see it for herself, to see what remained of the Crimson Ferret’s Revenge.

It wasn’t, however, the only thing driving her out of the comfort and safety the territory of the Levantine Sanctum provided. There was also the matter of the Force, which had been stubbornly telling her for months that things weren’t right for her anymore. It was not a fault with Ilias, or his instruction, but a failing of Kala’s to truly blend in with the Levantine ways. The people...well. There were many that she would miss. She was leaving her life behind, it felt like, or at least, the one she’d begun to build for herself.

Rubbing her eyes, she sat down on her towel and resumed looking out over the crystal blue water. Kala could see the remains of the ship from here, the great hulking, rusted mass of what once had been a Venator-class starship. There was nothing else to find, save for the occasional bit of metal buried in the sand. It was enough to know that it had been real, she mused, sighing softly as she settled back on her towel, propped up on her wlbows.

Perhaps this bit of time and solitude would bring her the answer she sought.

 

[Craig Janson]

[member="Kala'ndryl Ryj"]


Craig surveyed the long strand of beach as he flew slowly down its length. From his perspective, it consisted of a series of rolling dunes piling up higher and higher until they reached the basalt and andesite rock of the mountains that seemingly rebuffed the encroaching sands. Or were the dunes trying to prevent the volcanic rock from claiming their territory. In a play of geological dominance on Velusia, Craig had a feeling that anything volcanic in origin would win out.

Scowling, he tried to find a landing spot that wasn’t sand. Sand sucked into repulsors would strip them bare from the inside out rendering them useless faster than a mynock. Finding no safe place to land he remembered that Jon had described a landing pad located at the extreme eastern end of the beach. He looked the area over and saw a large flat expanse that could have been a pad; however, it now had small mounds of sand covering it. Hmmm…

Craig angled his atmospheric thrusters at as high a down-angle as he could safely set. He then flew a low level pass over of the area, scant feet from its surface. When he was aligned properly he maxed out the throttle. Of course the ship shot out of the area as if from a cannon; but, the thrusters should have created a storm of wind and turbulence on the unwanted sand.

Circling back he was rewarded with the sight of an old, worn ferrocrete pad. It looked larger than the exposed area, but, he had enough surface free from sand to land his small freighter. He did so adeptly, touching down lightly trying not to stress the aging ferrocrete any more than necessary. Landed and secured, he exited his freighter to begin his explorations of the pirates’ home base. From what he’d seen flying over, he didn’t expect to find anything of particular interest other than the dead Venator.

He walked along, climbing to the top of the highest dune for the view. It was more of the same - an amazingly blue expanse of water; several miles of sand dunes holding their place tenuously between the water; and, the volcanic mountains. There were things in the sand and if he had the heart to dig, he might find the remains of some of the old buildings Jon mentioned. The idea seemed invasive and disrespectful to those that had lived and died here.

He had one other area to visit. Beyond the western end of the beach, past the rocks where the mountains tried to reach the water, there was supposed to be another sandy cove where Jon made a drydock and built a sailboat.

He looked down the beach. That was a long walk and he was finding the equatorial island to be extremely hot. It was time to cool off in the crystal clear azure water. The only problem was – as many things as he packed when he traveled for business – a swimming suit wasn’t one of them. He looked up and down the beach he could see from his vantage point and wondered when another human was there last. He could see no evidence that anyone had been there since before the plague. He doubted that any Aquar that might wander by would care if he was swimming nude; so, he stripped and waded out until he was about waist deep. Then he began floating, allowing the gentle rocking of the waves to relax him and lull him into complacency.

He didn’t notice drifting down the beach… around the next bend… or the beauty that was laughing as she watched him float by oblivious to her presence.