Private Bird, Set Free

[Damsy Callat]

Unnamed mountain range,
Artorias
Worrarg
​

It hadn't been hard to convince the safe haveners to let her check out their little, local problem. Except, by all accounts, it wasn't little. The Monster of the Mountains was huge, or so they said; so much so that it was a wonder it could hide behind any of the peaks littering the planet's inland.

But despite the hopeless mismatch of biology, the probability she would meet her death up there all alone, they had still let her go. All but begged really; she barely had to ask. They didn't suspect she was Jedi - in fact, she gave off vibes of a Sith, or rather Syreni did - so Damsy had simply told them that she was an ex-military contractor looking for work. It was much better to ask someone like that for help than commission a straight-up Sith. No, they didn't want that kind of trouble on top of what they already had, so perhaps they wrote off the bad feelings radiating from Damsy:

Maybe working around Sith had just rubbed off on her. She didn't act like one, after all - just felt a little feel.

Negligible, right? Nothing to worry about.

Damsy tried to convince herself of that too as she hiked up a terracette mountain path. When she reached the plateauing summit of what might have been an ancient cirque, she stepped ever carefully into a small tributary creek off a nearby flowing river. The mermaid shifter scared of water walked on a dozen strides in the trickle, dragging her feet along the cobbled bed every few, until the mud caked to her boot treads had broken and floated away.

 

[Worrarg]

Things were...complicated. Worrarg was not the only one of his race set loose upon the universe. But they were still very few, and in spite of their size, their capabilities usually allowed them to evade too much detection beyond 'That thing I thought I saw.' Unfortunately, sometimes, circumstances do not always work out as one would like. Their very unusual size and shape resulted in a near inability to use almost any space craft well, and as a result, they hid instead.

He knew that an encounter was bound to happen sooner or later, he traveled more than he perhaps should have. Stowing away amongst cargo ships. This time, one just a little too small, with just a few too many people taking out the cargo. He ran out of hiding room. Fortunately, it was night. As they pulled out the cargo container he hid behind they caught a glimpse of his long fingers holding onto the edges hoping he could obscure his body through the main body of it. But they saw, and they drew their blasters to see who or what was there.

If a wookiee were there it might have gone a little better. He had managed to study a great deal about beings of the universe, he perhaps could have communicated with one of those. As it was, his voice came off far more as a threat than as a word. And so, he took the only route he believed he could. They saw a monster they planned to shoot out of fear, so he'd give them more fear than they could handle. A painfully loud bellow of his voice and he was gone, his six legs moving him far more rapidly and more dexterously than any of the security imagined was possible of such a sizable creature. And then, he was gone, the white furred creature somehow managed to slip into the darkness of the forests and deep into the mountains before he could get properly shot due to the moments of utter surprise.

It did not help his case that he was caught on a holo-vid, however blurry. Nobody knew what it was, or where it went, or how dangerous it was. And since he got to the mountains, he was almost never seen except when he was already too far away to do anything about. Supplies however, did go missing. And bones of some of the local wildlife had already been found in small piles.

He watched from a distance, his alchemic eyes seeing through the trees, through the walls, seeing the very force itself. Hidden in a cave covered by trunks and brush, much too heavy for a normal person to move, and so often overlooked, he watched as he sorted through the items he had gathered. Blasters were hard to use, they were all so small. He needed something a bigger species would use, at least a trandoshan.

But his attention shifted, he stopped moving. In the distance and through the brush he spotted it. An abnormality. It was shaped like the human species were, like his creator and so many others. But it had more presence than those at the docks. Though less presences than his creator. Yet, it was not an unfamiliar one entirely. He moved, he wanted a closer look. He wanted to hear it, smell it, detect the differences it had beyond merely it's peculiar presence. He moved as quietly and carefully as possible. Keeping himself out of sight, and spreading his weight across all six of his lower limbs, while his extra two more dexterous ones moved brush, or sticks, so they made less noise.

He was curious, it was in his nature.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy all but jumped out of the creek as soon as possible. Reason being, raising her boot up too high too quickly might slash water up onto her. She had spacer fashion on, including full pants, but the cloth itself was rather thin. A good amount of liquid would soak through easily and mat down to her skin. Both bad news. But what came next was even worse:

The cool shadow that was Syreni's being snake up her spine and coiled into one of her ears, where the entity whispered, Damsssssssy...

"What?!" Damsy couldn't keep neither frustration out of her voice nor voice itself in her head.

We're being watccched.

"Out here? By w'o?" she asked, intending a rhetorical question as she stopped on the spot. Deeply imbedded in her psyche, she knew her alter was right. Knew better than her even. Her grasp over the Force was much stronger, if not Darker in tendency than Damsy herself aspired after. There must have been something, someone, out there somewhere, to sense, and Syreni had simply beaten her to the punch. And was now warning her. So she should listen, be grateful, but she was finding that concept a hard one to practice.

One easier to act on was the desire to prove Syreni wrong. Damsy began turning about on her heel, all the while eyes scanning through the rocky outskirts of forest surrounding them. Nothing, nothing, nothing--

Unnatural white globes in the shadows. She paused at the sight to look more closely. At first, she assumed them to be some sort of light-catching mineral spherical--maybe feldspar, maybe talc--until she realized the grey, leathery face they were set into. Eyes.

Emphatically not nothing.

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

His caution had gone well, mostly. Trailing and watching the peculiar being. The presence was the most out of the ordinary from most of the beings in the galaxy that Worrarg had seen. But exactly what to he would gain by watching further he wasn't sure. Still, he followed. He wanted to know more. Unfortunately, covering could only go so far. He had thought he had been silent enough and careful enough, however, even during a moment motionless, she seemed to notice something was up, and said something he didn't quite catch from his position. If he moved, he'd reveal himself. If he didn't...too late. She caught his eyes.

Well, this was a conundrum. If he chased her, she could hurt herself, or head for a town, or attack him. None of which were particularly advantageous. Though, her injury would permit further investigation. However it might also inherently turn her against him to give deceitful information should he inquire.

One option I see. If I run, I lose my chance. I must seek alternatives. He thought more clearly. Body language of humanoids was not easy to mimic. They looked clumsy to him, and so small. Still, he attempted it. He did not quite rise to his full height, but the smaller arms attached to his neck did reach out somewhat, and up. And next the voice, this...might not go as well. Shyriiwook was an option, but Huttese was better known. So that's what he chose. In the quite peculiar and deep voice he spoke in Huttese, ["I do not intend harm to you, unless you do to me. In which case, I would assure you that they will find your body, but all your belongings shall be made use of." He wasn't sure she'd understand, but hoped that what he spoke was long enough, and non aggressive enough, to not simply have her running. He did not know who or what she was yet, but he did know how most beings had reacted to him thus far. And it typically either involved blasters or running.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

She might as well have forgotten how to run, her blood calcified in her veins like biological weights. Her own eyes, ocean blue, widened as the creature before her stood and extended out its arms...

...not towards her, but to the sky. Damsy blinked, processing the universal movement of peace, one that had been misidentified many a time when she had gone though the same motions on a foreign world. However, the communication barrier broke for her. She understood the gesture rather than the following words, but could confidently guess as to their meaning considering the impressions of its nonverbals.

"H-hi there," she began after a deep sigh. "Sorry, I don't speak that, but--" She rose her left hand above her head, mirroring the being; she spoke body language. Ever so slowly, with her right hand, she took her collapsed electrotrident off her belt and tossed it away, onto a nearby patch of grass. The staff might have been made of beskar, but the prongs' electricity emitters were sensitive to impact. "I don't mean ya harm neither."

She hoped it understood her nonverbals too, plus her calming tone. To underline her purpose, or lack thereof, she tried projecting the emotions of a serene sea over the space separating them.

Ashla feth.

She really was getting to be too much like a certain Jedi.

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

Well she wasn't fighting yet. Or running, but she looked definitely surprised. That was typically the first step before the other two. He tried not to move too much to frighten her, yet at the same time, could stillness be worse? Depending on her race details, it was possible to perhaps forcefully prevent any action. But that brought with it consequences with questions. Oh well, patience it was.

She spoke, success! Sort of...she didn't know Huttese, unfortunate. He watched her carefully as she removed the weapon from her belt and tossed it aside. Curious device. He had not seen one quite like that yet. He imagined there were many new such items to discover. So, she could be considered neutral at the least. So far. This brought much greater calm on his side as well, while not fearful, he was inherently more on edge with the position he was in. Essentially on his own and technically unarmored or unarmed. Even with what he was, that brought limitations.

He moved closer, shoving some of the grass aside beneath them with one of the bigger of the six limbs attached to his torso, intending to attempt to use Aurebesh script, most who knew galactic basic should know that. It was more difficult for him to learn due to the nature of his eyes, but the right devices could fit him. She brought a calm with her, interesting. The Creator had powers like that. Well, they were not quite so appealing.

In the ground her wrote in somewhat large letters, upside down so she could see from her position, while still looking at her before stepping back to let her read them. I am called Forerunner in my language. and beyond that he continued to write, I know your words. I cannot speak them.

He then waited, somewhat sitting with his back four legs and torso now that she understood he meant no harm, and him likewise he hoped. Not that standing or sitting meant much in his case, with the way his body was formed, it was much easier to go from a resting state to a moving one than for bipeds or quadrupeds.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy squinted at the writing at Worrarg drew it down it the dust. As the bouma began to form recognizable words, she nodded. Once, twice, thrice, as if confirming it all. "Forerunner," she read aloud before looking back up to him. She had moments ago dropped her hands back to her sides. "Nice to meet ya. Are you...out here alone?" She didn't want to ask anything too offensive too soon.

Namely, are you the Artorians' monster I'm supposed to kill?

 

[Worrarg]

She read, good. Not that he expected her not too, if anything, it seemed literacy was a practically universal trait. Though naturally the hope was galactic basic would prove sufficient. He felt slight joy at hearing his won name, or title perhaps. It was partially self given, and partially descriptive. After-all, he was one of the first of his new race. He nodded his head to her, and nodded again at the 'Nice to meet ya.' Then a question.

He had to consider the consequences of the answer, if he admitted to utter solitude, there was some risk involved. But should no ill intent be had, she might be dissuaded by any future actions were she to discover the lie. Again in the ground, after swiping away the previous set of words. Alone here. But I am one of a small kind.

Another consideration, a pause looking at her in thought. Another set of words. The Creator made few starters. I will help. But first, I will explore.

He paused, if amusement could be seen, or felt, it would be. A chuckle from him would probably not sound anything outside of a potential threat in these conditions. Assuming I do not get myself killed, via ignorant rash fear.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Made?!

Like her?

She couldn't help but near Forerunner by a few quick, excited strides. One of her hands was at her décolletage, motioning to mean her, as she repeated her thoughts aloud: "No way! I was made too. Though I'm one-of-a-kind." She hadn't met enough of the many creations of Sith alchemy to not be surprised any more. In fact, he was, what, number three--excluding herself. "My name's Damsy. I'm an 'alf-Shi'ido shifter."

Sad realization cast over ocean blue, cloudy as Kamino. "Other 'alf human," she added, rather solemn. That's why she could walk among people with little risk while he was stuck up here. She could pass for the galactic expectation of normalcy. "Like I said, I really don't mean you harm."

A somewhat awkward pause, just for Damsy if not Forerunner as well. "But I told the locals I'd take care of their monster problem..." There was no bit of threat in her voice.

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

His feet tightened their grip on the ground and his head tilted at her quick approach, a security measure, not fear. But it seemed she came not out of aggression, but...Curiosity? Excitement? Again he felt an odd sense of joy as she spoke, another creation! That may then be the familiarity he saw! Though he could hardly imagine his Maker was the same for her, from what he'd seen. Most of his Makers creations were far less humanoid in appearance. She gave her name, Damsy. A shi'do, interesting. He had only discovered extremely small bits about them, mainly their ability to shapeshift. But otherwise nothing.

Ah, there was the human in her. Strange she saw this as a negative. His creator would, but his creator saw nearly every other species as inferior. She repeated no ill intentions. He wasn't sure what to do or say yet, another creation was a fantastic discovery! It only further increased his curiosity about her, though, communication barriers tended to be an issue. And then there was an additional problem. The 'Monster' problem.

He almost felt inclined to laugh again, yes monster was likely the word they'd use. He swiped away the dirt on the ground again so he could re-write. I traveled quiet. They saw and were frightened. I lack a ship to leave. Most cockpits probably can't fit me even if I stole one. I take what is necessary or useful, but have little else to do now. Sneaking back onto a ship is too hard.

There was some level of hope here. Perhaps, her own curiosity could also push her to help him. He was certainly willing to return aid for aid. But even if he weren't, there was much in him that wanted to learn more about this. It was a most excellent possibility. He tried to write again beneath it. If you help me, I may be able to help you. I see through the force. And physically, there are few equals in capability. Though, a translator would be very helpful. This gets tiring. he admitted to some frustration with drawing in the dirt. It did kind of take awhile, and was in general hardly ideal.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy read along, diligent but patient. She nodded up at him after he had made his last point. She agreed that though it worked now, there would be very many other situations where writing and reading would slow them down sustainably or be completely impossible. During a firefight, for example, if it came to that.

"I have a ship," she offered almost immediately. "And an AI that can translate your language." The option of telepathy, teaching it to him if he had enough ability with the Force, crossed her mind, but she decided to take things one small step at a time. "The cargo hold is pretty big. Empty right now too, more or less."

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

Ah, excellent, a ship and an AI. Would certainly still cause a delay, but would be far less frustrating than drawing in the dirt. And very much shorter. Cargo hold would work fine. He'd practically been doing that all of his attempted travels so far, but with the problem of that he was having to hide the whole time. Which was not necessarily easy, for a creature his size.

Again in the ground, though he imagined a nod would have been perfectly acceptable, That would be appreciated. While I do not distaste this planet, I am quite ready to be away from this place.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy smiled. “Then I’ll lead the way,” she said before pointing towards her weapon. “Can I…?” She didn’t wait for an answer though, went over to the patch, and levitated the staff up into her hand. After returning the blunt end to her belt, hanging the thing upside down with prongs to the ground, she turned back to Forerunner, and gave a jerk of her head to indicate, not the general way, but that he follow her. A quick glance down at some tech on her wrist showed her the way--northwest--then they would set off.

In a few klicks, they reached a makeshift landing pad. It was a clearing in the alpine forest, all nature with nothing built except of course the promised freighter, stark white and steely among the lively greens and muted browns of nature. The contrast was almost jarring.

“Here’s she,” Damsy proudly announced. She turned on her heel to extend her arms into a showman’s wingspan. “The Chambered Nautilus. Or Nauti.” Though she was in fact a very good ole girl. “Whichever you’d prefer.” Back to facing the ship she spun, calling out to seemingly nothing by the birds hiding in the overhead canopy. “Urs! I’m back!”

:|| With a friend to boot, ||: came a slightly mechanical reply projected from the starship over its external comms. Not even a moment later, did the hydraulics begin to hiss, small lines of steam slithering from the workings. The boarding ramp then began to lower. ||: He is a friend, miss? :||

It was finally Damsy’s turn to laugh, her sound reminiscent of siren song. “Yeah, fast friends,” she confirmed as she hopped up onto the ramp moments before it had touched down. As she strode into the cargo void, in fact rather empty, she gestured generally to the ceiling of her ship. “Forerunner, Ursula. Ursula, Forerunner.”

When the AI spoke now, her voice was much more human-like, unfiltered by the outer sound systems. :|| A distinct pleasure, Forerunner. ||:

Damsy took a seat on one of the very few containers left in the bay. “We got ourselves a conundrum--”

:|| When don’t we? ||:

“Aw, c’mon, quit acting like it ain’t fun,” Damsy countered the AI’s quip. “Runny here speaks somethin’ I don’t. See if you can translate for him?”

:|| Of course, miss. ||:

When Forerunner next spoke, Ursula would be able to translate in real-time; both Huttese and Shyriiwook were in her language database.

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

Though it would seem unnecessary, he would nod when she said 'May I' to getting her weapon. Ah yes, that was another thing to look into. Not necessarily her weapon specifically, but one for him. He certainly had the strength to wield something far larger than typical, even in the arms more attached to his neck. And when unneeded, it could be stowed in his back. Perhaps some sort of pike would suffice, he was too big a target for those little swords. Or go straight to ranged, something much stronger than typical would be a great advantage. Armor however would also be a good idea but he doubted that there were many options like that available to him.

They arrived at the ship, though color was probably the only thing Worrarg was at an inherent disadvantage towards. It certainly had caused problems before, though far less than the ability to see through walls. Which was consistently useful. He repeated the name of the ship in his own language quietly as she introduced it.

And soon out came a droid, with its own reservations about him. Not a surprise, still a good step up from 'AAAAAA'.

'Friends' ah his maker did not use that word typically. There were certainly quite a number he did not hear often. He knew its meaning of course, though he wasn't sure yet how this one would apply that. He wasn't sure how he would apply that. He nodded his head towards 'Ursula' as they were introduced. Wasn't like he expected much else to work.

Then he waited, and listened to them converse. Though he did keep an eye out for any potential oncomers. Not that he was expecting them, but could never be too sure.

So this was the AI translator, excellent, he went for Huttese, that seemed the more likely recognized by a droid in his opinion. "Well that certainly eases things up." He said, pleased that the droid understood him, "Apologies for the trouble I may have caused you. You've certainly been more understanding than the locals."

He relaxed himself somewhat as he spoke, "I didn't mean to spook you, I was curious. Something no doubt ingrained in me by my Creator. Perhaps you will find out anyway, if it comes to pass in this age, but my kind is called Voran. As I said, we are new, and we are few. According to my Creator, he wanted a perfected creature, not for this society, but of ourselves. I will not comment on his success." Opening up almost felt good, the sharing of information was not as built into him as the gaining of it. But it was a peculiar feeling, "I saw you, and thought you had a familiarity. Not your shape, that appeared quite humanoid to me. But else-wise, I take it was because of what you said we shared. I assume, perhaps also, it was the presence of the grown force on you. I may speak calmly now, but I assume you can imagine the considerable interest or joy I felt at this discovery and opportunity. Aside from my own kind, I had yet to meet another new creation. Let alone one with the power of the force, though, the creator can't seem to stick between the Force, the Vo, or the Soul. I believe this is due to an upbringing problem."

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy scratched her head. "Vo? 'S a new one," she mused. Ursula began to translate into her mistress' words into Huttese. "Woah, sorry, babe. He understands." The AI fell silent to let Damsy converse in Basic.

"My creator," it seemed a more apt title than father, "was Sith. Is. No reason to believe he's not still 'bout live an' kicking." She leaned back, locking hands behind her head. "I didn't know he made me Sensitive. It came as a surprise one day." She half-smiled, but the emotion behind her eyes wasn't at all happy about the memory. "I'm free, well- ish, now. Still 'olding onto that Darkness. I really want to let go of it--I'm hangin' with Jedi now; they're helping me walk in the Light; well, just one really--but I don't think I can. I was born into it, literally. To cut it out would be...suicide...at least, that's my runnin' theory. So, maybe it's an upbringing problem for me too."

She sat up. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Just isn't err'day I happen upon another creation."

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

He was not surprised the word Vo was not familiar to the galaxy of races. As of yet, he had yet to hear it from anyone other than his creator. It mostly seemed to make it somewhat useless of a word. He was slightly amused when the droid was also translating Damsy's words but she explained quickly.

So she had a Sith maker, that made sense. They did seem the type to preform such acts, though he couldn't say he was familiar with any of their creations or their ability in it. He would have believed in quite a range of groups that could have done this, and didn't have the knowledge to narrow any of them down.

She brought up the Darkness, and the Jedi. Familiar terms, yet still things he didn't fully understand. His maker used some references, but not with much context. Leaving him precious little to go off of there. She also said the darkness may be inherent into her, so the light might be outside of her grasp. "I think we're both rambling just a bit. I do not mind." he said, though it might be hard to tell by voice alone if someone wasn't familiar, there was definitely joy in it, "I know of the sith, but not very much. Why would you want to let go of the Darkness however? Even if you could, aren't they just two approaches to the same thing? I am not well versed in the force, and would certainly like to learn more. Though, I'm not so sure I am prepared to turn to these people. The Jedi seem the types to fear me, and the Sith seem to the types to try and control me. I doubt I could work with either very well."

Another thought occurred to him, as well as quite a number of questions which started flooding out. And even if someone was unfamiliar, they might just feel the excitement in him. "Why were you created? You say you are half shifter? Did they want you as a spy, or a combatant? I thought the Sith did not let go of their creations easily? I saw you use telekinesis earlier, do you know other abilities? I am most curious about this."

Though accelerated to adulthood, Worrarg was still young, and he had not experienced much of the world. That childish joy and curiosity remained very strongly.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

". . . The Jedi seem the types to fear me, and the Sith seem to the types to try and control me. I doubt I could work with either very well."

“Ah-ha!” Damsy pointed to Forerunner. “Me either. Ain't that just the rub?”

Though she didn’t mean to give off the impression that following the Light was not a possibility for her, or one such as her. Instead, that shaking off the Darker influences of her creation was probably impossible at worst and at best impractical. Her wardens for now, the New Jedi Order of the Galactic Alliance, would simply not accept the line of reason that had brought her to that realization, or so Damsy figured. She hadn’t told them and probably never would, but if she did she expected scoffs to the tune of ‘oh, what a weak Darksider excuse to shy away from Ashla,’ or ‘see, Knight Kaze? Your faith in her conversion from Bogan is misplaced.’

Damsy shook her head as if to clear her head of these thoughts. She had even less space in her heart and head right now for Jedi insolence. Let them be inflexible in their tenants and cost themselves a far many potential, otherwise devout disciples. Damsy would one day, far from now, be able to look their lacking Master Jedi in the eye and say, ‘I told you so.’

Oh, how sweet that’d be.

“We--you,” she pointed again to him, “me,” then to herself, “the rest of us; and I can tell you there are more of us because I’ve met some of ‘em, am trynna meet ‘em all--could be Jedi if only they let go of their holier-than-thou ideas that boil us down to tainted ground.

“I doubt I need to tell you it ain’t fair, but treatment like that’s lightyears better than crawling back to the Sith.” She lay her open palm on her chest again, sitting further forward than before too. “I’m free now from him, my creator, have been for a few years. In the meanwhile, I’ve discovered a really unwelcome part of my psyche, which I think stems from what he made me. Syreni, I call her. She’s as Dark as Bogan can get--mean, vengeful, angry, with enough power to do...void knows what. But me? I don’t want to find out.” Her forearms went to her knees, hands hanging off enough to interlace at the fingers. “You don’t wanna find out.

“I’m not trying to scare ya, but that’s the truth. She takes over sometimes. When she does, I--I lose control. It’s like I stop being myself. Stop being Damsy, start being Syreni. Think she fancies herself a Darth.

“So, to get at your question, yeah. I understand the Light and Dark, what the Jedi take to callin’ Ashla and Bogan, as flipsides of the same cred’.” Damsy took a breath, a sigh. “But, see, with my predicament, the Sith ain’t just offputtin’ ta me ‘cuz I had the misfortune to be made by one of ‘em. It’s because following along with their tenants whenever Syreni forces me to takes away my control. My will. I want that back.

“So, I figured Ashla would help me out, and what better teachers there than the Jedi, hmm?” A rhetorical. She picked back up, “Most of them don’t know I’m a spawn. I’ve been able to pass as a Padawan, actually, but I don’t know for how much longer I’ll be able. I really don’t think I could physically live without Syreni, much as I hate her. I was made by Sith alchemy; if I try to separate the Dark from me, what’ll be left?

“I’m on a mission to make the Jedi to understand that, to accept an exception to their dichotomy of the Force. Because, as I said, beats the Sith. And I think it’ll be easier to change the Jedi’s minds than theirs.” Suddenly, Damsy stood, pushing off her knees. She held out a hand to the Voran. “I know we just met, dude--no pressure--but if you want to join me in finding true freedom, I’d be happy to have you. It's fair if you don't want to work with the Jedi. I'm getting sick of it myself. We'll be the bosses of ourselves. Otherwise, just tell me where you’d like to go an’ we’ll part ways, no hard feelin’s.”

Whether Forerunner shook her hand or not, and regardless of his answer, Damsy descended to crates beside him and sidestepped around. “I’ll answer your other questions soon as we’re outta ‘sphere. Be back.” With that, Damsy disappeared into the hallway bound for the cockpit. Soon enough after she had did the cargo ramp close and the entire ship begin to ascend.

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

Yup, if she was having trouble and at least looked like a human in shape, and seemed to mostly act like one. Though he couldn't really say on that for sure, due to the limitations of his interactions. He doubted he would fair any better. She seemed to see the possibility of people like them could be Jedi. What an interesting thought that was, Jedi. It was not in his design to be a guardian. He was predator and prey. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't help but feel another sense of interest at the thought of how one would fit a Jedi robe over his shape. Let alone how funny it would look for him, with that robe, to walk into a room wielding a stereotypical blue lightsaber and demanding a fight ended. Oh that was a very amusing thought to the Voran.

Still, in her eyes however the Jedi did act towards them was better than the Sith. He wagered again, the difference between outcast and slave was a drastic one. Even with how unfortunate both could be. Then she spoke more about her personally. What she was called, her freedom, yet a part of her that was not quite her. 'Syreni.' And dark as 'bogan' he did not recognize that word. It must have been overlooked. Or perhaps he just forgot it. She did not like that part of her however, that much was clear. There was a little bit of a cross there, as he was pretty sure his creator would be called those words. And he wasn't sure if they were truly 'bad' or not, or if 'bad' really mattered. Survival mattered. He did not have the time to discern the rest.

Though, some of her concern did begin to more properly dawn on him as she spoke. It wasn't just an impulse, it was an utter loss of control to 'Syreni.' A darkness overtaken. He was not familiar, but he understood. And he understood why she disliked such a thing. Becoming something other than herself was a most unpleasant thought. She explained what Bogan was as well, 'Ashla and Bogan' are the 'light and dark.'

Yet at the same time, with what she did with the Jedi to be in control. That didn't mean she wanted to be separated from a thing within her. A rumbling hum came from him in thought as he laid down in a way. He wanted to help...for some reason. But he had little advice to give. She knew more than he did. She experienced more than he did. So for now he listened intently. When she pushed off her knees and held out a hand, he stood up again, assuming he was supposed to take it with one of the smaller arms from his neck. Though, small was not the best word for them. And she gave a proposition. Though she had to go, he did get a quick response, "I would gladly join in this. I'm not sure yet what I'd do about Jedi, but if you'll have me then I definitely won't refuse."

Seemed like they'd be off soon, he found a good place among the crates to collect himself. Latching three of his larger hand-like feet onto straps or crates in case anything was unsteady. Grateful he didn't have to hide.

This, he imagined, was going to make for a very fascinating journey.

Damsy Callat

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy lingered in the cockpit for longer than she technically had to. She took the extra time, legs kicked up onto the console in the position she did most of her best thinking--as if it freed up some of the blood in her lower extremities and allowed it to go to her head--to think about the safe haveners she had talked with at the beginning of the day. For too long, she turned over the idea of sending them a comm. The cons included it being full of white lies, the pros that at least they'd know they could stop worrying and take to living free instead. What amounted to centuries-old bunkers wasn't any place to flourish.

Oh, the irony. The Works were exactly that.

Finally, she put down her handheld communicator. No, it'd be better for everyone if Damsy and Foreunner faded into a presumption of mutual demise. The Artorians could reach that assumption themselves in time, then begin to reclaim their planet.

She retracked her steps to the cargo hold. "And we're off. Course set to Coruscant." She'd figure out how to smuggle him out and down to the Reef later; where there was a will, there was certainly a way. "Remind me where we were?"

Worrarg

 

[Worrarg]

Was certainly preferred to not have to hide when he saw Damsy coming from the cockpit. He was fine with sneaking around on principle but it was quite an inconvenience. He tilted his head as she mentioned the destination, coruscant? That was not exactly somewhere he would be expecting to go. He started considering the potential issues on a city planet with hiding. He wasn't exactly small, could perhaps hide inside a crate, but he didn't know the terrain there. Even in its lower areas which had a less ideal reputation, he wasn't sure how many places he could slip behind.

She asked where they were, "Artorias?" he said uncertain at the question before realizing his mistake, "Oh, Finding freedom, Jedi and the force, creation. Freedom for me is certainly a complicated matter. As while my maker didn't really care what I do as long as I return, as you know, I don't exactly fit in well. Though, I do imagine more knowledge in the force would prove quite useful. So would somewhere that I didn't have to constantly hide at. I don't quite know what freedom that must be gained for you."

Damsy Callat