A new acquaintance

[Sorel Crieff]

The ship was an old Corellian barge, pocked and scarred from meteor hits. It was shaped like a crate, and contained a number of crates en route to a remote and desolate planet. It was the ugliest, dirtiest ship that Sorel could have imagined. Why she was asked to accompany the cargo she had no idea. Why this ship? She equally was unsure. But the Silver Order clearly had its motives.

If the exterior was ugly, the interior was foul. Its battered corridors smelled of dirt and the sweaty bodies of many species. Repair ports were left open, so that wires and pressure hoses – the ship’s guts – spilled out as if from an open wound.

Everywhere on the ship enormous Hutts slithered about like giant slugs. Whiphids stalked the corridors with their mouldy fur and tusks. Tall Arconans with triangular heads and glittering eyes moved in small groups.

Sorel sat alone. No one had been at the entry port to greet her. No one even seemed to notice her.
The ship was strange. It was so different from the hushed, gleaming hallways of the Temple, where she could hear the sound of the fountains wherever she walked. It was different to her own ship. She knew every corner of her ship intimately. This one risked a disease wherever she touched.

So she found a corner that seemed cleaner than the rest and meditated until they arrived at the planet. Once settled on the ground, she made her way to the exit ramp and looked around to see if anyone would be here to greet her.

[member="Arisa Yune"]

 

[Eugen Aker]

As the appointed Protector of Klatooine, Arisa had taken it upon herself to go out and meet Sorel personally and help collect the shipment of supplies. However, she wasn't only motivated by duty, but also excitement born from a craving for a kind of companionship that only came from other Jedi, especially now as she found herself alone in the middle of Hutt Space. Sometimes she considered that she should have chosen a planet closer to Voss, like Tion, but there had been something that had drawn her the arid world.

She arrived at the spaceport a little before designated arrival time for Sorel. The spaceport of the Klatoonian capital was multi-level spire that stretched about a half a kilometer in the air, its structure maintained by a mixture of tensor fields and repulsorlifts. Without those systems in place, the unstable complex would have eventually toppled from structural imbalances. Ships large and small could be seen docking at gates at each level. Sorel wasn't using any sort of officially charted line, so these arrival times tended to be more like suggestions that could turn out to be hours - or even days - off the mark. Such was the way of the Outer Rim.

A short ride on a lift and she was there on level 8. Then she was left to navigate through the maze-like corridors to the right gate. When all was said and done, she got there about a few minutes before Sorel's freighter touched down on the landing platform.

Death-trap was the first thing that came to mind as she witnessed the flying brick of rust make its landing. She doubled checked her phone to make sure she had the right gate. It was. Apparently, Sorel liked to live dangerously.

She took a position next to the landing ramp, scanning each passenger and crewman as they stepped and slithered down. Her fellow Jedi should have been easy to spot - Epicanthix weren't too common in this part of the galaxy and were often mistaken for ethnic Atrisians like herself. It didn't take too long to spot Sorel, and when she did, she approached the woman once she had cleared the ramp.

"Sorel Crieff?"

((For reference, Arisa is dressed casually, in tight fitting khakis, ankle length boots, and a green jacket.))

[member="Sorel Crieff"]

 

[Sorel Crieff]

Klatooine. She’d done the basic homework before she’d landed but given this was a simple drop off and return, there was little need to look too hard as to the politics or landscape of the planet. Sorel figured she was here to ensure the shipment made its way into the right hands. The fact the mode of transport was odd was no doubt relevant but not necessary for her to fulfil her brief. She suspected that whatever she was escorting was valuable but needed to be conveyed as if it wasn’t – hence the rather dilapidated ship she arrived in.

Sorel had seen many spaceports in her day – from areas of desert marked only by rocks and the odd tree, to the fanciful on places like Coronet City. In terms of architecture, this one stood out. It was tall for a start and she supposed it took some feat of engineering to ensure it remained upright. Not that she had the mind of a structural engineer. Electronics were more her thing. Droids and ships in particular.

She glanced around, her standard Jedi issue cloak swirling around her as ships came and went, creating small currents of air. With her sabers hidden from view, her garb was broadly nondescript. Brown in hue, inexpensive in material and uninspiring in cut. It was practical – pure and simple.

A familiar name brought Sorel’s focus back to the here and now. It was her own. She took in the woman that spoke it and bowed politely. “Yes, and you are?” Her brief had been specific but limited in detail. The woman had the aura of a Jedi but Sorel had not been notified who would be there to meet her.

[member="Arisa Yune"]

 

[Eugen Aker]

"Arisa Yune, Watchman of Klatooine," she answered after returning the bow.

The official title for the position was Protector, but the Sentinel favored the classic designation of Watchman much more. Back in her academy days, it had been her dream to return to crime-riddled Plexis as its Watchmen. Klatooine was no Plexis, but it suffered the same sort of problems. On her way, the Sentinel had probably caught about a dozen different examples of illicit acitivities, none of the hustlers or smugglers paying her any in mind as she traveled in plain clothes.

"You must have had quite the journey getting here."

She glanced over at the banged up freighter, finding it even more unfit for flight upon close inspection. It was a struggle to keep from wriggling her nose at the stench that wafted out of the open entrance. She was of half a mind of getting the ship grounded.

"I can get us a cart for the supplies. Do you think everything made it intact?"

[member="Sorel Crieff"]

 

[Sorel Crieff]

Sorel smiled. She’d only met a couple of Watchmen before. It was a calling she’d once considered herself – but felt the lure of open space and new horizons too compelling to bind herself to one planet or even system. But she admired those that were committed.

Sorel’s smile remained on her lips. “It was an experience for sure,” she said, glancing back at the ship. “Whatever I was escorting, clearly moving it in this incognito fashion was considered a wise precaution. And yes, everything is accounted for – I made sure no one tampered with the cargo. And a trolley or similar would be ideal.”

She caught sight of her host’s nose wrinkling. “And don’t worry, the containers are clean. They weren’t on the ship long enough to pick up any lasting odours.”

She sniffed at the sleeve of her robe. “I hope the same is true for me.”

[member="Arisa Yune"]

 

[Eugen Aker]

The ship had indeed left its mark on Sorel's robes, but she offered no comment about it. Already, she was dreading stepping foot on that ship and ending up like Sorel. A fresh set of duds back at the apartment would certainly be an order.

What she said about traveling incognito made sense, but Arisa would rather not have Sorel or anyone else take the risk in the future. These fly-by-night operations were not reliable for the regular shipments she now expected working here. She would have to check with the council to see if arrangments could be made to use of military transports in the future.

"Good to know. I'll get us a cart, be right back."

She gave her superior a small nod before stepping away, going for one of the carts at a nearby rack. To release a cart, she had to pay a small fee, and check into the system for monitoring purposes. She pulled out her phone and tapped it against the control console to complete the transaction, freeing one of the large pushable repulsor beds. For anyone who cared, the Watchman of Klatooine was now officially one the scene.

"Here we are," she said as she returned pulling the cart behind her. "Please lead the way."

[member="Sorel Crieff"]

 

[Sorel Crieff]

As her host fetched a cart, Sorel used the Force to lift and carry the crates out of the ship. There was no need both of them going back on board. Any foul smell was already going to be lingering on Sorel’s robes – a few more minutes would make no difference. And she was beginning to wonder if her host was just being polite when she said Sorel's robes weren't impregnated with the odour eminating from the ship.

No sooner had Sorel emerged down the landing ramp than she saw the cart in front of her. “No need to come on board.” And Sorel gently lowered the cargo onto the repulsor bed, the anti-grav technology meant that the cart didn’t move a millimetre as the heavy load was placed on it.

“In one sense I’ve completed my mission but it would be good to see where the cargo is destined for. If that’s OK with you?”

[member="Arisa Yune"]

 

[Eugen Aker]

Up to this point, Arisa had refrained from making use of the Force in the open to avoid unwanted attention, but she was thankful that Sorel had gone through the effort of retrieving the cargo. It looked like she hadn't done a good job of hiding her disgust over the ship.

She gave a nudge to the side of every crate to ensure that they were secure on the bed. Not a single one wobbled. She was impressed by the precision of the Knight, looking so serene the whole time.

In a revelation, it appeared that Sorel hadn't originally meant to stick around beyond overseeing delivery. The news was disheartening, but she knew Sorel had a job like everyone else in the order. She would make the best of the time she had with the only other Jedi in the sector.

"Yes, I mean I couldn't let you go without showing you around Treema. To be frank...I wouldn't mind if you hung around for a few days. I can take care of your transportation offworld if you let me know where you want to go."

Feeling a little embarrassed by her own desperation, she reached out for the handle of the cart and pulled away without allowing Sorel to answer.

[member="Sorel Crieff"]

 

[Sorel Crieff]

Sorel had been a willing student but had always had a relatively narrow focus. Combat and meditation were her fortes, she had an excellent grasp of the basics but her repertoire was not as wide as many. But what she knew, she carried out with absolute certainty. She was no one-trick pony, but she was certainly no jack-of-all-trades.

So she was not offended that the Warden checked how the crates were balanced. She would have done the same.

Sorel considered Arisa’s offer. She’d never visited the planet before and it might take a few washes to get the smell out of her robes. And her hair.

“I’d be delighted to take you up on your offer. And it will give the Order time to organise a ship to collect me. I hope they’re not anticipating I return the way I came.” She glanced back at the ship. It was a saying in the navy in relation to dilapidated ships that it was only the rust that was holding them together. Sorel suspected that it was more likely willpower that kept this one in one piece.

“Now tell me,” she said as she fell into step with her host, “Where is the best place to have a shower before you show me the sights?”

[member="Arisa Yune"]

 

[Eugen Aker]

"We can stop by my apartment first. I can hook you up with some spare clothes so you can wash your robes."

They looked to be about the same height and build, so there shouldn't have been too much issue in sharing clothing if needed. The only thing was that she had no robes. As soon as she had left Coruscant, she had reverted back to wearing street clothes like she had on her nativePlexis. Her last two set were locked away in a trunk all the way back on Kiribi.

She led the other woman down the levels to her speeder parked down in the lots. Nothing special, just a nondescript van she and some others at the office used for moving things. Her usual mode of transportation, a speeder bike, was stored away in her garage. After popping open the trunk, she transferred all the crates from the cart to the back of the van with telekinesis. Her level of proficiency matched Sorel's, all the crafts falling into twin rows of neat stacks. Whilst technically a Padawan, she was no greenhorn, having been a Jedi for the past 20 years, and a soldier for more than half that time. Still, she was quite a ways off from being able to perform crazy feats like chucking heavy walkers or deflecting speeding starfighters.

The spaceport was only just outside the walls ofTreema, so it was a short ride for the pair to her apartment near the center of the city. Driving through the streets, one could see the obvious lack of high technology in display in favor of maintaining a rustic aesthetic, white adobe buildings topped with glittering gunmetal rooftops - solar panels modeled to resemble shingles. The appearance of the administrative capital of Klatooine was carefully maintained by an army of city planners and officials from the ministry of culture.

"Here we are," she announced as she pulled up into a small complex of low buildings. The van was too large to park in her garage, so she just left it on the lot.

They would enter a spacious but sparsely decorated living room, with an equally large kitchen off to the side. A hall led down to two bedrooms and the bathroom. The master bedroom where she slept would have a similar spartan appearance if one was to look through the open door, but the second door was sealed closed by mag locks. She used the second room as her personal workshop, filled with potentially dangerous components and working weapons (under their own lock).

"Feel free to crash on the couch or my bed after you shower. There's a holoprojector in the front room if you want to do some surfing."

As a personal gift from Suravi, Arisa had received her own biocomm kit. The quantum communication system let her connect to networks across the galaxy to access a wealth of media unavailable to the locals, and even the Silver Jedi in some cases. Between such gifts and her personal income as a consultant to KSA, she did pretty well for herself without having to rely on a stipend from the Silver Jedi. Anything she received from them was just redirected to local projects for the Klatoonians.

"Hungry? I can whip us up some stir fry."

[member="Sorel Crieff"]

 

[Sorel Crieff]

Sorel smiled at her hosts generosity. “Washing and something to change into sounds good. I’m quite easy to please when it comes to alternatives. Comfy works for me every time. And I genuinely appreciate your help. I’m beginning to suspect that, by the looks of the people we pass, that I smell more like that ship than I do ‘me’. So a second thanks for not mentioning the fact.”

They reached the van and Sorel planned to ensure the window was rolled down throughout the journey. If she was pungent in the open air, being in a confined space would only be worse.

A short ride later and Sorel was now aware of how her robes smelled and she marvelled at her host’s ability to overlook the fact. Once they arrived at their destination, Sorel noted this area was a blend of technology and looks. The buildings resembled something native and the addition of technology was done sympathetically.

Sorel’s priority was cleanliness. Her host had been gracious but she did not want the aroma to permeate her home. She took in the surroundings. Spartan yet homely. Large yet friendly. The mention of food made her realise just how hungry she was.

“Stir fry sounds great.” She was used to food with strong flavours, so nothing ever worried her. But home cooked food was a rarity for her and she relished the chance to sample some. “I’ll quickly shower and change if that’s OK and I’ll pass on the nap. Hunger trumps sleep right now. And stir fry sounds delicious.”

[member="Arisa Yune"]

 

[Eugen Aker]

"I hear that," she said with a chuckle. "Let me get you something to wear, then."

She entered her room, rummaging through her closet until she found something tasteful for Sorel. No robes, but she had a gray patterned tunic and some matching black leggings that the woman might like. She set out everything on the bed, along with some fresh undergarments. She very much doubted they had the same bra size, but a camisole should do the trick until Sorel's clothes were clean again.

"Alright, there's a fresh change of clothes on the bed, and all the linens are right inside the bathroom. It's a bath, shower combo, so feel free to spoil yourself."

She left the bedroom and motioned at the open bathroom door. The washer and dryer were contained within their own little closet inside the hall.

While Sorel did her thing, she prepared the stir fry, taking out produce and chicken to dice. All those years of bladework translated well into the realm of the kitchen. Within minutes she had herself fine piles of veggies and poultry to throw into an oiled wok.

[member="Sorel Crieff"]

 

[Sorel Crieff]

Sorel thanked her host and then headed into the room. She glanced at the clothes which were laid out for her to wear. They seemed entirely practical and would be comfortable until her robes were ready to wear again. Her robes were currently being washed on the hottest setting the machine had to offer. It wasn’t just a matter of the smell, there were no doubt bacteria to kill too.

She then moved into the bathroom area and considered her options. She’d never had a bath. It wasn’t that she didn’t wash – but when she did so, she always considered it to be wasted time. So she always showered. It was more ecologically sound and took less time. Plus she could wash her hair at the same time.

But, as tempting as a bath was now, she also considered how hungry and tired she was. There was every chance she would doze off in a hot tub, so she went for the shower instead. Her hair receieved three washes, then a condition…then another wash and condition before Sorel was satisfied the smell had gone.

And as she dressed the smell of cooking wafted to her nose and she hurried, eager to see the meal being prepared. There was something magical about cooking in Sorel’s experience and fresh ingredients were not something she had very often.

“Thanks,” she said as she returned to the kitchen area, her hair still slightly damp and tied back into a loose pony-tail. “I feel human again,” and she scanned the raw ingredients on the bench. “Please don’t let me put you off, but is it OK if I watch you cook?”

[member="Arisa Yune"]