A New Beginning

[Iskra Kael]

Thin, watery light was just beginning to break through the heavy, smothering haze of smog that lay like a shroud across Spaceport Southeast II, casting the world in a grimy, unnatural light that lent the jagged, grasping structures of the spaceport an almost ethereal edge. Yet despite the early hour, sentients of a dozen different species were already going about their business, hustling from one dust encrusted prefabricated structure to another, or attempting to hawk greasy, unappetising foodstuffs from covered trays.

They were a hard bunch. The type that had been everywhere, and had seen everything, so perhaps it was unsurprising that not a one of them spared more than the most cursory of glances at the battered old transport that descended through the gloom. Those that did look beheld an uninspiring sight; an ancient, decrepit medium transport of the old GR-75 class, the sort that had crawled out of the Gallofree Yards long before the galaxy was engulfed by plague. This particular vessel looked like it hadn't seen a day's maintenance since that long forgotten time, and a harsh, unsteady vibration resonated through the air as its massive engines struggled to keep the leviathan of the stars steady in its descent. That they managed was no mean feat, yet manage they did, holding the bulky freighter even as it descended upon one of the many vacant berths in the sprawling spaceport-city, the afterwash from its engines scouring clouds of ash and soot from the docking bay floor and sending them spiralling up into the banks of smog that obscured the pale half-light of the breaking dawn.

Within the freighter, in one of the numerous boarding passages scattered across the length of the vessel, a young woman sat. Clad in dirty, ill fitting clothes that had clearly been intended for someone a shade shorter and a touch wider, she knew nothing of the fading roar of the engines as they cycled down, but the vibrations that thrummed through every surface of the vessel spoke volumes on the subject, and as the juddering began to fade away she began to rise from her seat, only to stumble as the ship shuddered beneath her feet. Instantly, a hand snaked out to catch against her shoulder, steadying her whilst she caught her balance, and she turned, freeing her shoulder with the motion even as she offered a nod and a gentle smile that didn't quite reach her eyes to the towering man who stood beside her. Returning the smile, the man spoke, but his words were lost on her, and the shadows in which he stood offered not a chance of drawing his meaning from the motion of his lips. Sensing this, he smiled again and leant forward, drawing himself out of the shadows before he spoke again, his mouth moving slowly, carefully pronouncing each and every syllable so that she might glean his meaning; Go safely, little Iskra.

Touched by his words, fresh warmth crept into Iskra's smile even as she reached up with one pale hand, touching the tips of her fingers to her breast before reaching out to press them against the man's heart. Their connection lasted little longer than a single heartbeat, yet it was enough for a flicker of emotion to pass through the Force, a trace of the worry and doubt that lingered in the man's heart. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing. If letting her leave the refugee ship here was a wise idea. Had she been able to, Iskra would have thanked him for that.

But the truth was that neither he nor she had any choice in the matter.

Closing her eyes a moment, the young woman took a steadying breath, steeling herself for what was to come, before reaching down to grab her pitifully empty bag with one hand. Then, as a breath of arid wind betrayed the fact that the boarding doors had ground open during her breath exchange with the man, she turned toward the future.

Whatever it might hold.

 

[Falks]

Falks sad on the hood of his car, enjoying a box of takeaway fried noodles as he spotted the ship carrying refugees. He sighed as it was a familar sight, homes stolen by the cruel reality of war, the hoplessness in their eyes. One to many times had he expeienced such feelings, but his payday was at the exense of their lifes, their reality and their homes. But feeling grief over past actions wasen't in his nature, he lived pay check to pay check and if he stopped. it would be the end of him. He simply welcomed them with a weak smile and a forced wave as they slowly marched towards the registration booths.

[member="Iskra Kael"]

 

[Avo]

"No, stop, you can't have that."

"Brrrzzt! Beep!"

Standing, kind of, next to the green-cloaked man, was a little astromech droid attempting in vain to gaze into an electronics shop. With its third leg stuck out almost to the point of popping off, the green-clad and scarred little bucket continued to beep and whine seemingly incoherent words of want and desire of a new charge arm, or maybe even a new data uplink cable.

The man sighed, "I promise I'll get you some upgrades, but let's go, the ship's about to leave."

With a groan, the astromech droid ceased its buzzing and whirring before spinning around to roll alongside its owner. Although to an onlooker, the duo might have appeared to be just a middle aged man and a droid who happened to share a fashion sense, though the real identities were much more daunting. A Jedi Master and a droid serviced to the Galactic Republic walked amongst the rather strange looking natives to this industrial planet. According to what he'd learned on the HoloNet terminal on the transport vessel he and Arfour were traveling on - this whole world was ran by what appeared to be a corporate bordello.

"Brrrzzzt!"

Right. He thought. Gotta get back to the transport ship before it took off. Lan and Arfour stuck close together as they walked and rolled through the jam-packed streets of this city, squeezing through blue-collars tapping away at datapads and comlinks in order to quicken their pace. Although they were in a hurry, Lan couldn't help but notice varying apparels of the class system on this planet. From what he saw, dull browns and greys littered this area along with a sprinkling of a finely printed suit or a uniform with something of significance on it. I'll be back. He thought solemnly as he tore his gaze from the black-ringed eyes of a worker.

It didn't take long to get past the multitudes of crowds and groups of workers and soon enough the duo found themselves back at the spaceport. On highly visibly missions like this, it was smart to use public transportation rather than zipping around in a starfighter with a Jedi emblem literally painted right on its hull.

As both he and Arfour made it to the vessel, they paused for a moment to catch their bearings and observe the other passengers. It couldn't hurt to know who was riding with you - especially in a galaxy at war and one peppered with betrayal, strife, and malice. For the time being, the green-cloaked Jedi Master and his automated sidekick would linger in the shadows for just a minute longer.

[member="Iskra Kael"]

 

[Iskra Kael]

Taking that first step onto the tarnished, corroding boarding platform was difficult, perhaps the most difficult thing that Iskra had ever done, for behind her, in the crowded holds of the refugee transport there was kindness and understanding. The people there had drawn together in the wake of their shared trauma, and the bonds that had developed between them were strong enough that more than one marriage ceremony had hastily been conducted in the vast holds. In time, perhaps, they would find a new world, somewhere they could build a new community, one bound in a spirit that had long been absent from society on Druckenwell. At least, that was the dream Iskra held close to her heart. But if they did, they would do so without her.

As for as the whys went, that was something that was far beyond the young women's ability to explain. She was distanced from the other survivors somehow, and not just by the realm of silence she had awoken into. No, it was something more, a poison that had been present in her heart since those last moments on Druckenwell, as though the dying scream of countless millions had planted a seed of darkness into her soul as it tore through her. And so, ultimately, she had no choice; they were better off without her, though persuading the others of that had proven nigh on impossible. Gilad had been the worst of all, for he seemed almost to have decided that Iskra would replace his lost sister as a focus for brotherly affections, yet in the end, after countless hours spent jabbing away at datapads in order to carry out a conversation, he had relented. They all had.

Still, they'd wanted her to wait a little longer. For Ammuud, or Etti. Or really anywhere other than Bonadan. But Iskra knew that if she'd stayed for even a day longer than she had to, her determination would begin to erode as surely as a pebble before the waves, and one day she would simply abandon her goal altogether. And that, she knew deep in her heart, would bring ruin down upon them all.

So, difficult as that step was, she had to take it; putting first one too-big boot and then the other down upon the ramp. Doing so was the not the relief she might have hoped; the second step seemed every bit as impossible, but still she forced herself to take it. And the next, and the next, until she found herself standing in the reddish brown dust of Bonadan. There she hesitated a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath whilst she allowed her legs to accustom themselves to standing back on solid ground after long months amongst the stars, and her thoughts began to turn toward where she might go next. This was a topic that had lingered in Iskra's mind through many a long night, and still the answer remained beyond her reach, but before the familiar sense of frustration could once again seep into her mind she was drawn from her self absorbed thoughts by the sense of eyes upon her.

Gilad, she reflected with a fond smile, though she didn't turn to glance behind. But it was not merely the second Druckenwellian who had laid his gaze upon her and, as realisation dawned, Iskra shifted uncomfortable and, adjusting her kitback, set off once again, letting her feet lead the way into the unknown.

[member="Lan Graendal"] [member="Falks"]

 

[Avo]

These travelers looked terrible. In fact, almost the entire crowd of brown and grey wore clothes of dull hue along with solemn expressions upon their heavy-lidded visages. Aside from rare traces of actual color and emotions that weren't anything other than the dull craving of survival, sparks of hope could be caught flaring in the eyes of them all. They may have been leaving something behind - but they were also leaving behind their burdens in speculation of a bright and hopefully prosperous future.

Lan envied their perseverance.

The Jedi Master and his green-plated droid compatriot stood by silently as the passengers filed into the transport ship one by one. There wasn't much to be said, so he remained quiet and boarded when it was his turn.

[member="Iskra Kael"]

 

[Iskra Kael]

It seemed as though Iskra hadn't been the only refugee whose fate lay elsewhere, for a steady trickle of haggard and world-weary figures were emerging from the boarding points that ran down the length transport's hull. And others seemed to be waiting to board the already overcrowded vessel, though what their possible reason for doing so might be was a question whose answer eluded the Druckenwellian in that instant.

Still, it was a figure from this later group, rather than one of the almost familiar refugees that caught Iskra's eye as she forced herself to continue her steady exodus from the vessel that had been her home these last few months. He was a strange figure, swathed in a cloak of forest green that barely seemed to have been touched by the invasion dust of Bonadan. In truth, it was this cloak that caught her eye, for it couldn't help but stand out amidst the fetid browns and rusty reds of the grim, polluted world, yet once Iskra's gaze fell upon the strong figure it was difficult to look away.

'Why?'

Such was the question that occupied much of her thoughts as her roving gaze drank in the stranger's appearance, noting his lined, stoic features and the compassionate that seemed to linger in his blue eyes as he observed the stream of refugees. And the more Iskra watched, the more she was sure that it was that apparent concern for the wellbeing of others that marked his as a stranger here, rather than the rich colours of his clothing or the similarly coloured droid that lurked in his shadow. Those eyes, she felt, couldn't possibly belong to anyone who'd lived on a world as unfeeling as this for very long.

As that thought blossomed in her mind, the man's gaze seemed to meet hers for the merest of moments, and she felt the slightest hint of a smile touch her lips as she tilted her head in earnest, silent question.

[member="Lan Graendal"]

 

[Avo]

He had only taken just a few steps towards the vessel when he caught her eyes. Watching the endless stream of refugees and their stained colors and newly growing hope, Lan had tore his eyes away from the crowd to gaze upon one of them further back. Her dark hair seemed to almost break the color scheme alongside her pale skin that looked almost translucent. In accordance to her height, her sight was swiftly swept away as even more people disembarked from the craft.

What was that? He thought. Why was she looking at me so intently? Was that a smile?

"Brrzzzt?"

"What?"

"Beep blop!"

Lan shot a glare at the droid. "I don't like her. You know Jedi don't do relationships." Arfour gave something that sounded like a giggle. "Plus, I'm almost forty eight anyways. She's more like nineteen or twenty."

A few moments passed, with Lan veering completely around the crowd to get to this rather peculiar girl. Their locking of eyes wasn't just for a fraction of a second, it was a full-length handful of 'em and her smile told him that he had yet another friend in this galaxy. Might even get lucky to learn some information about these refugees.

[member="Iskra Kael"]