Pains of the Past

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Felucia-843ABY​

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]​

Arlan hated Felucia. Everything about the planet seemed unkempt, and uncomfortable. The air was hot and mugged to the point one could near feel it stick upon their skin as they trekked through the jungles, and worse still was the humid mist that seemed to linger everywhere. No civilized being in their right mind would willingly come to Felucia of that Arlan was sure, and yet that was why he himself had came to be here. If there was one planet where his pursuers would not presume to look it would be here. At least, that had been Arlan's initial reasoning. Now though he was beginning to wonder if it was at all worth it.

He had been left alone on this rock per his own orders, left hobbling on crutches in a secluded camp situated slightly above the fungal forests below. Bandages covered most of his body, blaster bolts having singed and pierced him all over, yet somehow he had managed to survive. The pain his body was in, however; was nothing compared to the internal torment he faced each waking moment. The death of his loved ones before his very eyes had broken Arlan, brought low the warrior he had been and placed a shadow in his stead. For all wounds heal over time, but a shattered soul is not so easily mended.

Arlan had awoke early on this day, another sleepless night of tossing and turning had roused him from his bed. He bothered not with fixing breakfast for he had no appetite, and instead inched closer to the outlook of the rise. He small well have hated Felucia, but he could not deny the beauty of the early morning light shining through the translucent flora below. His wife would have loved the sight far more than he and for a moment the thought of her brought a smile to his face, but it was a short lived one. She was gone now, and all the kept Arlan from flinging himself to the ground below was the prospect of healing and paying back those whom had taken her.

Silently he turned and hobbled back to his camp, intent on counting the days to his recovery. The soft stirring in the distance a constant reminder that this place could oft be dangerous, and despite their regal appearance many of the creatures native to the area were predatory. A smirk cropped up on Arlan's lips as he thought of how poor a fight he would be able to put up against some feral beast should it favor cripple for breakfast. A sordid thought to be sure, but Arlan had always been a prideful soul and he found being in his present state a tad ironic.

A soft melodic whistle would begin emanating from Arlan as he trekked on, for he day had just began and by all rights he knew it would be a long one.

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

While some despised the very idea of Felucia, Seraphina rather enjoyed it. The vibrant colors of the jungles, the native creatures, and the flora all spoke to her in ways she could hardly explain. The uniqueness of the planet was rather similar to her own. Afterall, pinkish skinned Twi'leks were a bit of a rarity, to say the least. The heat never seemed to bother her much, it wasn't nearly as bad as the scorch of Tatooine, nor the frigid wasteland of Ilum. To her, the planet was serene, even if it were dangerous. It reminded her a lot of Umbara, another of her favored worlds. She was never one to enjoy the condensed city life of planets like Coruscant. It felt cramped, overpopulated, and smothering.

The planet itself was not welcoming to anyone unprepared for its harsh predators, parasites, and poisonous flora. Seraphina had been to Felucia many times, on various excursions and operations. She had learned what to touch, what not to, things to avoid, and how to outsmart the beasts without killing them. Afterall, Jedi value all life.

Why was she here though? A medical supply ship had been stolen, and the last known coordinates for the vessel were on Felucia, before the tracking signal went silent. It was a small vessel, roughly the size of a freighter, with a crew comprised of droids. The supplies however, were expensive, and vital to the Republic. Onderon had been awaiting the shipment to treat patients with a rather nasty disease that had spread throughout a frightening number of the populace. It would take another month to receive another shipment of this size. She had to find it. And so she continued her march through the dense forest, leaves crunching ever so quietly beneath her feet as she meandered her way.

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Abstract thinking had never been a strong suit for Arlan, being the headstrong pragmatic type, so it was no surprise someone such as he couldn't appreciate his surroundings. No, instead he tirelessly peered into the flames he had built up in the center of his camp mind awash of all save for surviving. That was the ultimate goal after all, just getting through to the next chapter of his life, and ho strange it was that something so simple and benign had given him such trouble. His eyes flared for a moment, smoke whipping into them with a sudden shift of the wind, causing him to turn towards a monitor set up on a nearby table. The alerts were flashing indicating that a ship had entered Felucia's atmosphere in close proximity to his camp. Quickly Arlan stood, losing his balance for a moment for straining his injured legs, and moved over towards the screen.

Many possibilities raced through his mind as he traced back the origin of there ship that had somehow touched down in his area. Anywhere else and Arlan could have ignored it, anywhere at all, but it was hard to believe this had been sheer coincidence. Of course whomever was in the freighter could have done so by accident, the people thereon could be entirely unrelated to Arlan and his woes, but the fear was still there. Being hunted changes a man, makes him paranoid and overly cautious, so Arlan had to consider it. What if that ship did belong to the people whom killed his family and now sought him? What if by some chance they had found him on this remote jungle hellhole? Worst still, what if they knew where he was right now?

Arlan staggered with bated breaths towards his shelter. Too long had he agonized over healing injuries only to be gunned down just before fully recovering. He couldn't accept the fading into nothing at this point, so he prepared the only way he knew how, by arming himself. Pulling open a footlocker in the corner of the room Arlan reached in and withdrew a long dark shape, an old slugthrower. It was a variation of the ones you typically see smugglers running with, a long-barreled six-shooter meant to deliver close range stopping power with deadly efficiency. Normally Arlan would have opted for a blaster rifle, but in his current state he could barely aim the handgun he had. No, this would have to do for now. It was his only option.

Slowly Arlan exited the shelter, weapon in hand, and edged closer to the outlook in the direction the ship supposedly landed in. It had touched down quite some time ago so by all accountants if people were coming for him they should have arrived by now. Perhaps, he thought, despite knowing where he was they did not know the exact location in which Arlan resided, and if that was the case his odds of surviving had just increased drastically. Felucia was unaccommodating to foreigners, and searching for someone thereon would be an insurmountable task without proper leads. Cold sweat still pouring from his face Arlan turned and breathed a sigh of relief, he had gotten so worked up he had haggard his weary body down. He could return to his fire and more than likely never be found.

Then it hit him. Arlan's eyes flashing with fear as he gazed up into the pillar of smoke spiraling into the skies above.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The relentless march through the dense and congested jungle was something of a feat all on its' own. Sera wiped the sweat away from her forehead and brow, blowing a gust of air from between her lips, the moitsture from that breath nearly visible as she drew in another breath. She stopped for a moment and knelt to the ground, slinging her pack from behind her back to the mossy surface beneath her feet just in front of her. Pulling loose the straps she lifted the top before pulling off the dark robe she had been wearing, its' purpose solely served in disguising the armor she wore beneath. This planet however, was not the place to be wearing more than one needed. It hindered her progress and served only to further dehydrate her. She folded the clothing neatly and tucked it inside the pack before closing it back up and placing it back over her shoulders.

The ship had to have landed somewhere nearby, within a few kilometers away. The tracking signal went silent shortly after breaching the atmosphere, so it couldn't be too far, though finding it beneath the vast quantity of flora and jungle wouldn't be easy, even if she were able to search from the air. Seraphina looked up to gauge how much daylight she had spent already. Her eyes caught the sun, but even more interesting was the plume of smoke coming from the west. It was a ways away, but it seemed odd that there would be a fire out here unless either the ship had crashed or someone had made camp with those medical supplies. Picking up the pace she sprinted along on her path, hopping over downed trees and small puddles of collected water. It was impossible to tell whether that smoke was from a lingering fire hours old, or if it were fresh. Still, she had to see for herself. Perhaps there was a lead, or a trail to follow. If she were incredibly lucky, someone might still be camped out there. She no longer had the luxury of quietly sifting through the treeline. If she took to long, she might lose whatever it was that awaited her at that campsite.

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

"How could I be so karking stupid!" Arlan yelled softly to himself, eyes still transfixed upon the rising smoke. He had gotten overconfident in the seclusion of his hideaway, such an amateur thing to do, and had freely given his location up. Arlan stopped, open hand rising to scratch his beard, and began to think on exactly what he could do to deter disaster. It was far to late to put the flames out, and if anything the puff of black the ashes would push into the air would only broadcast that someone was still nearby. No, even considering that was foolish. Far better to leave it burning and pray that should anyone lay eyes upon the smoke they would brush it off, as unlikely as that may be. Arlan would simply sigh and shake his weary head as he continued to think, knowing that whatever he chose to do may well not be enough.

The hard truth of the matter, as it stood now, was that Arlan could only put up a poor fight at very best. Even with the slugthrower clinched firmly in his grasp he doubted his ability to cleanly get a shot off in his present state. Arlan knew full well that if two or three men with even a fraction of his own experience came out of the brush he would be in dire straights. He looked around once more, assessing his surroundings and weighing his options one last time, before solemnly shaking his head and turning towards the shelter. Arlan knew his only true option was to wait it out, and see if his fears became reality.

Arlan's shelter was small, prefabricated and made mostly of durasteel, consisting of a single entrance to a single room. Arlan had figured that when, or if, someone came for him his best shot would be to wait inside with his sights turned towards the door. The first man in would get a slug to the face, and while the other would be attackers may well get Arlan in a rush, he could at least take the first man down. Knowing this much Arlan was able to resign himself towards his future fate, and anything that came thereafter. It took a lot for a man like Arlan to concede to the inevitable, a man so full of pride and vigor, but then he was hardly the same man he had been three years ago.

So now he waited, fire still roaring outside, huddled into the corner of the shelter, and his mind began to stir. His wife had told Arlan once that should he not change something like this might happen, but he had always laughed away her words before embracing her with a smile. Arlan shook his head with a smirk, tear forming in his eye, for how he had hated when she was right.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

While the pinkish Jedi made her way towards the plume of smoke it became evident that the fire was still burning, indicated by the density and hue. Perhaps whoever was responsible for the fire was still enjoying its' warmth. Entering into a full blown run she would make it to wherever the campsite was located in just a few minutes. The ship, if stolen by this party would likely be nearby, thus ending her search for those responsible as well as retrieving and returning the cargo for the Republic. It was unlikely to be anything more than a band of smugglers or pirates looking to make a quick payday from the supplies and the droids assigned to the ship. At least, that was the best she could hope for. It was rare for anyone else to land on Felucia for anything otherwise.

When Sera got near she stopped her advance, pausing for a few moments to look around the immediate vicinity. About 100 feet away was a rather crude looking durasteel dwelling, though it looked more like a shipping container, or a few scraps of spare metal welded together for the sole purpose of keeping someone dry from the rain and little else. The fire was visibly burning from where she stood, though nobody was sitting around it, and she heard no voices in the nearby area. Perhaps they had wandered off for food or water, or patrol. She couldn't imagine any more than one or two people even sleeping in such a rundown piece of scrap. Two would really be pushing it, any more and they'd be laying halfway outside. Quietly the woman made her way towards the dwelling, alerting whatever, or whoever was inside might be a terrible idea, and she wasn't looking for a fight if she could avoid it.

Still, as she crept closer, she kept one hand hovering just above her twin lightsabers, because you never knew what kind of crazy you could find on a backwater planet like Felucia.

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Arlan sat in silence, the darkness of the makeshift shelter consuming him wholly and distorting his form. Quiet some time had passed since he had tucked himself away in the northernmost corner, awaiting those whom may never come. He had resolved to wait out the night in his current position, more from caution than fear, but his injuries made him stiff and weary. Arlan's head bobbed for a moment, turning downward and shooting back up as he nodded off for a second. The stress of the day had worked itself deep into his nerves and coupling that with his trouble sleeping recently made for a poor show of endurance. A bandaged hand would rise and rub his face, a long-winded sigh escaping from Arlan as he attempted to refocus, all the while doubting if any threat would truly come.

Odds were he was alone on the ridge until it was time for him to leave, odds were the shuttle he had tracked through the atmosphere wasn't anything but a downed merchant or the like, and the longer Arlan thought that the more his patience waned. If his pursuers knew truly where he was then surely they would have landed closer to his location, if not directly on top of him. He knew if roles were reversed and he was hunting a man in his position with a kill order place upon him, he would have did a fly by and lit the area up before even touching down. Every group did things differently though, and Arlan couldn't put tax on anything he didn't know for sure. Still though, no one showing up eased his feelings a bit and caused him to lower his guard. That was, however; until he heard something coming from just outside.

Soft like a whisper the sound lingered just for a moment, however; it resonated within Arlan. He had been here for quite a while and grown accustomed to the sounds of this jungle. No, Arlan wasn't some expert on the jungle and couldn't tell you what made a certain noise in the distance. However; he had learned what sounds the wildlife here caused, what the wind sounded like blowing in the distance, and what Arlan had just heard was none of them. It sounded, to him in his present state, suspiciously like the footfalls of a humanoid and if it was just that he had to be ready. Raising the slugthrower once again and leveling it towards the doorway he waited, praying that whoever or whatever was there would turn and leave. Arlan had killed dozens of men throughout his career so the aspect of taking one's life was not what made him tremble in this moment, but instead the thought of failing to do so.

So, in the darkness of the shelter, Arlan watched and Arlan waited.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

For a few moments she hesitated, listening for any signs of movement or chatter. Nothing. Turning her head from side to side, she looked around the area for any signs of tracks, either coming or going, though sadly nothing really stood out to the Twi'lek. Disappointing, it meant that whoever was using this camp likely had been here for some time and was probably not responsible for the theft of the cargo ship. Still, perhaps there was something to be found inside the shanty dwelling that could be of use in her search. She would remind herself to put out the fire when she left. Campfires could easily spread with the strength of a powerful gust of air and cause wildfires. That was the last thing she needed, to have to race a raging fire while searching for missing cargo.

She slowly stepped closer to the dwelling, her hand lightly grasping the frame as she pulled it back, casting daylight inside around her rather small form, lightsaber held firmly in the other.

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Light flooded the small chamber, the door slowly giving way to whatever was lingering outside. Slugthrower raised Arlan hesitated, his breath caught in his throat as cold sweat trickled down his brow. Most men would claim the prospect of death did not frighten them, that being true men they could embrace it wholeheartedly, but not Arlan. Death was a finality, and abrupt and sudden end, and he knew there was nothing glorious about that in any way. So now he was frightened of what may come, frightened of all the ill he had done coming back on him, and it was fear now causing him level his weapon at the door. A bit more light cascaded inward as the door pulled two, and a deafening echo rang out in the container.

Smoke bellowed out of Arlan's slugthrower as he chambered another round. He knew he hadn't hit who or whatever was out there, the low thunk of slug hitting meat not present, so he had to be ready. He had lost the element of surprise leaving him but one option, to bluff. "That's far enough! I don't care who you are but the next round goes through your skull!" He stopped and cocked the hammer back on the pistol, making sure it was audible enough for whomever lurked beyond could hear it. "I won't be gunned down and left for dead in this jungle!" Arlan yelled, truly meaning it with every fiber of his being. He had played his cards, now he could naught but wait.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The momentary grace of the Force was simply all that saved the Twi'lek from feeling the sting of a rather aggressive man's old fashioned slugthrower. That momentary breach in reality that warned her to quickly act. But where her hands were too slow to react, her mind was not. A shimmering bubble of Force energy surrounded the small body of the woman as the round fired off. Had it hit and ricocheted? Or did it miss entirely? She wasn't exactly sure. The sudden surprise of the moment caused her to flinch, sealing her eyes shut from the threat. Though when another shot wasn't heard, and instead a voice calling out from within she lowered her guard ever so slightly, though her hand remained wrapped around the hilt of her saber, even more prepared than before.

The woman stepped aside the door and shouted back into the durasteel shelter. "That's not exactly a way to make friends you know! Is that how you treat all guests?" Judging by his tone of voice, the man seemed frightened, and desperate. This wasn't the person or group she was after. Though if he had been a part of that group that commandeered the ship it looked like he was abandoned by his team for one reason or another. She could simply leave him here, though he was clearly either hiding from someone or something, or had been left out here for far too long and was slowly going insane. Either way, the Jedi in her almost required her to find out the truth.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I haven't got a blaster. Why don't you come out and we'll talk?" She backed away from the shelter and made her way to the campfire that was still burning before calling for him again. "I'll even sit over here if it makes you more comfortable. But I am going to trust you not to pull that trigger again, Ok?"

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Arlan eased his finger of the trigger as the voice of the intruder echoed within the container. It was a woman, something unexpected, and she claimed no part in what Arlan feared. She could be lying of course, most people Arlan knew had been the best of liars, but for some odd reason he believed them to be sincere. If she did a blaster chances are she would have fired back, and even more to the point, if she was with others whom were armed they would have already began firing upon the shelter. No, she wasn't a hired gun here for his head but more a curious soul whom had come to investigate a campsite in the middle of Felucia. At least that was what Arlan had taken to believe, the sound of her footsteps heading towards the fire reaffirming his thoughts. Arlan took it all as a good sign, and rather than stay hidden, he stood and hobbled out of the shelter.

Slugthrower still in his hand, Arlan braced himself on the entryway of the shelter and looked out towards the fire. A lone Twi'lek stood near the flames, her skin pink in hue with long lekku falling behind her shoulders. She was an odd sight at first, but seemed so natural in the jungle around her. Arlan smirked for a moment, thinking of his fear and foolishness, before stepping out of the shelter. Though many questions danced within his mind about her, most prominently her name, Arlan decided against haste in this particular matter. Far better to play this new hand cautiously lest her appearances be deceiving. Stopping about midway between the shelter and fire, Arlan took a moment to look around them before raising his free hand and beginning to speak.

"Sorry about taking a shot at ya." Arlan chimed in as he approached. "Thought you were.....well, someone else." He finished, his voice firm albeit weak from his present state. "I do have to say though, running into anyone out here is unexpected so you can see me mistake is an honest one." He continued. "You must be from that downed freighter I tracked in earlier, right?" Arlan asked in all earnestness. "If you are looking for help here you're outta luck. I don't have a ship, and the only comms I've got access to are short range." He turned and pointed to the small terminal set up near the shelter. "I'm not exactly operating at official capacity here, as you can see."

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Sera watched as the man staggered his way out from the shelter. He looked like hell, and that was being generous. Her eyes scanned him up and down a couple of times while she assessed what might be wrong with him, and why he was here instead of, well, anywhere else. The weapon in his hand certainly didn't make her feel any more comforted by him either. Still, she remained seated by the fire and offered a smile. Though he certainly had an odd way of responding to people. "I have to admit, that's a pretty high stakes mistake to make. If you had shot me, it would have made for a real bad day, to say the very least. I feel sorry for whoever those slugs are for, if that's how you plan to greet them." Her interest in his words was peaked when he mentioned a freighter, though it looked as if he believed that was her ship that had landed. "You know where that ship is? That's actually what I am here for. That ship belongs to the Republic. It was hijacked and I was sent to retrieve that rather important cargo that was on board."

The Twi'lek slung her pack from her back, pulling loose the straps and fished around within for a moment before pulling out a small injector. She stood up and approached Arlan, extending her hand and offering it to the man. "Here, take this. You definitely look like you need it. Your thigh would be my suggestion to inject the bacta, it hurts the least. You'll want to rest for a bit afterwards, as there are some side effects, but you'll find your injuries will heal much faster afterwards." Turning she picked her bag back up from the ground. "I need to find that ship. There's no sense in trying to communicate with them, they don't intend on returning the cargo. And since you haven't got a ship, I have to assume that's why you're hiding out here in this giant tin can. If you're well enough to come along, I can take you with me after we retrieve that cargo."

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Arlan eyed the Twi'lek curiously, his head slightly nodding in agreement to some of her words. What she said was true after all, his mistake could have been a deadly one, but he had resigned himself to that when he found it his only viable defense. Nevertheless, he was glad now his shot had missed, and even more so whom he had missed was a kindly soul. Now though, as she spoke on with eloquence and grace, her words grabbed Arlan's attention. The ship he had tracked through Felucia's atmosphere had belonged to the Republic, carrying something of enough importance to warrant a search for it. A question now persisted however. If what this vessel carried was indeed so important someone had sought it out, why then only one woman? Another smirk would flare up unto Arlan's face as he thought this, and reached out to take the bacta.

The stinging in his leg spread quickly and dissipated as Arlan pulled the injector from his leg, burrowing into the muscle and becoming a dull ache. Arlan hated bacta, hated most all advanced medicines to be fair, preferring natural healing when pain would allow it. Now, however; was not the time to be picky so the proud man Arlan was pushed his inhibitions aside. Already a bit of the stiffness in his joints had began to fade allowing him to better move, but Arlan was no fool. He knew despite it's wonders that the bacta had it's limits and the majority of his injuries would still take quite some time to heal, but still he was grateful. Standing taller upon his crutch now Arlan began to think, to ponder on just how to proceed. Such an offer like that he had just been given came rarely, to deny would be foolish in fact, but Arlan was hiding here for a reason.

"I thank you. Sparing that injector could not have been an easy thing to do." Arlan blurted out frankly. "Yeah I know where it is, sensors I set up tracked it entering the atmosphere, and it had to do so close by to have triggered them. The range only goes out three or four miles from here." Arlan looked around, scratching his beard and sighing. "Still far enough away for me not to notice the crash-down. Must be just on the edge of the senors range." Arlan limped over to the terminal, moving quite a bit better than he had been earlier. "Yeah, says here it came in right above the south sensor and exited the target range before touching down. Vessel came in pretty hot from the looks of it, must have been in trouble." Arlan finished, closing the terminal before turning back to his guest. "Well, what are we waiting for?" A wry grin then spread across his face.

As things stood now Arlan knew his best chance for survival was tagging along with his new Twi'lek friend. She was obviously a capable person, yet a curious soul. Something about her being here just didn't add up, and until he learned just what that was Arlan decided to stick as close as possible.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

Sera stood patiently as Arlan used the device. If she had spent more time with the Order, she would have picked up on the art of Jedi Healing, but such was not possible so she had no choice but to rely on alternative means. Her company was still relatively small, but out here in the wilds of Felucia, the items she had on her were of extreme value. She now only wished she had packed more. She hadn't anticipated needing any more than one injector, as the crew aboard the vessel she was after was all non-organic. Such was fate however, and she would simply have to bank on not getting hurt, or allowing Arlan to further his own injuries. Sera offered him a smile as the bacta seemed to start the healing process as quickly as intended. He wouldn't be running a marathon or anything in the immediate future, but it was better than his current state.

"Of course. No need to thank me. You were in need, and I was able to help. It's something we should all do when we can." His mention of knowing the relative location of the ship was a truly welcome surprise however, and she was ecstatic that the sensors he had at least put them in a relatively close radius of what she was after. "Fantastic. It has to be close - the ship at least. Hopefully they haven't made off with the cargo yet. If so, this might be a long day." The Twi'lek looked him over to make sure he would be well enough to walk, she wasn't certain how far or how long they might have to travel. "Will you be alright to make the trek? The folks who stole this ship, they won't likely welcome our presence. I'd suggest hanging back when we get there just to be safe." The woman didn't broadcast herself a Jedi to anyone, it felt unnecessary and rather pretentious. If he asked she would answer, she certainly wasn't one to lie unless her mission demanded so.

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

In Arlan's life few people, save for his mother and wife, had ever been so keen to perform acts of kindness. Most all sentient beings had ulterior motives for the things they did, even Arlan himself, so it was a tad hard for him to believe his new companion would willingly help him out of the good of her heart. Still, he would certainly not argue with her doing so at present since he was able to walk fully upright for the first time in as many weeks as he had been on Felucia. Arlan would simply smile and slide the slugthrower back into it's holster at his side, looking towards the southern most area he could make out in the distance. The journey would certainly take a toll upon him at, but for the first time in a long time Arlan truly felt like doing something more than wallowing in self pity. He would go with the Twi'lek to find the downed ship, and whatever else might lay ahead.

"I'm fine, believe it or not I've been in worse shape." Arlan shamelessly lied. "It may take me a bit to get my legs back under me, but when I do a little walk through the jungle won't be a challenge." He smiled, taking a few steps towards Serra. "Name's Arlan, I came here a while back with a research expedition and got hurt pretty bad. While I as out the bastards left me, figured they'd be back so I've been waiting ever since." Arlan spoke plainly. What he said was a lie of course, but he doubted telling Serra the truth would set her at ease. Yes, far better than a comforting lie than the sordid truth. "I doubt the people you are looking for have left the ship. Even if it's damaged the hull makes a better shelter than anything they'll find in a hundred miles of there. I'll follow your lead, don't worry. Wouldn't want that bacta to have gone to waste."

With that Arlan walked towards the south range and looked back towards Serra. He was sure that whatever come of this little adventure, it was certain to be fairly entertaining. He could only hope that however it ended he would still be standing.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The Twi'lek offered a nod of affirmation to his declaration of being ok. If he felt well enough to accompany her she would accept that at face value, even if she worried he might be exaggerating a little bit. "A research expedition huh? How did you get your injuries? And how did you make it back to your camp and survive all this time in your shape? You must have been a lot worse off before I found you today. That sounds awful!" Sera held out her hand to shake his. "But it's nice to meet you Arlan. Mine's Seraphina, but just Sera is fine. It's what most everyone call me anyway."

The woman kicked some dirt over the fire to put it out and then turned towards Arlan to catch up as he began heading in the direction of the ship. "My worry is that they may have planned to stop here and load the cargo on to another ship. Keeping the Republic vessel with its' magnetic signature would be a risky prospect. I suspect that they are only after the cargo, and will ditch the ship here." She shrugged as she stepped over a rather large downed tree, careful to make sure there was nothing poisonous, spiny, or sticky on the other side. Sera paused for a moment and slid a small bracelet looking object from her wrist and handed it to Arlan. "Here, put this on. If things get serious, and you're getting shot at, press your finger against the top of that bangle. It's an energy shield. It will protect you for 90 seconds from just about anything you can think of. It takes 5 minutes to recharge though, so use it carefully. Let's keep moving."

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Arlan excepted the bangle and snapped it onto his wrist, eyeing the device curiously for a moment as Serra explained just what it was. She had been honest and helpful so far though and he found little reason to doubt the validity of her words. He then looked southward again, nodding towards Serra as she spoke. Hijackers most certainly would have another vessel waiting nearby if they were after the cargo, Arlan himself had been apart of many such operations in his time, but that was only true if they were after the cargo itself. Republic ships were often well made, expensively so, and could often go for a good price in Wild Space or the Outer Rim. Arlan hoped that Serra was right about them wanting the cargo, because if it was indeed the ship they were after the hijackers would be hard pressed to abandon it anytime soon.

"I appreciate the help." Arlan said as he raised his wrist with the bangle attached. "Now for the hard part. If you're right we will have to move fast, and that isn't exactly my forte at the moment. Not that I intend on slowing us down any." Arlan quipped as he stretched a bit and began to walk south. "I've been here for about two months. Had plenty of rations and water so I've managed alright. I was a lot worse off before today, trust me, now I'm near healed compared to back then." Arlan spoke calmly as he continued onward. "Still glad you stumbled onto me though, might have never gotten out of this jungle." Then stopping, Arlan turned to Serra. "So, tell me. Why is one woman going after a band of hijackers instead of a security force?"

Diplomacy wasn't Arlan's strong suit. When he wanted to know something from someone he asked, and bluntly so. In truth Serra's being on this planet had eaten away at him since they met, and it was a bit of a grand feat for Arlan to have waited as long as he had before asking. Now though it was all out in the open and he could naught but wait to see what Serra unveiled.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

"Don't worry. We'll get there. That cargo will take some time to move. There was quite a bit, and if they plan on stealing all of it, they'll have their work cut out for them. That must be why they landed here. It's easy to hide." Two months alone and injured on a planet as hostile as Felucia? The man was quite a survivor, if nothing else. Living in that shanty little shelter for so long with nothing but hope and a slugthrower was a sheer test of will. "Did you all have a settlement somewhere? It's hard to imagine anyone besides yourself fitting in that hobble I found you in."

She turned her head to face him as they walked and talked. "Well, to put it simply, I am the security force. Sending a large group would only slow things down, and have a greater chance of failure. One person can blend in, keep quiet, and move quickly. I suppose the Republic just wanted to keep things clean and quiet. Word spreading that they lost contact with a rather important piece of cargo wouldn't go over well with the Senate."

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]

 

[Arlan Zy'rosh]

Serra was clever, far more so than Arlan had initially given her credit for. As she spoke it seemed as of she had already saw through his poor facade, not that Arlan had told an overly convincing lie in the first place, but If she had Serra remained too polite to say so. Arlan continued walking, nodding back towards her every great now and then, all the while thinking what to say in retort. With things as they were, Serra being the perceptive sort, Arlan decided it prudent to answer as close to the truth as possible. With that in mind he turned to her, running a hand through his hair and sighing, before smiling and beginning to speak.

"We, that is my group, were staying in our ship. This campsite was just a sort of a forward base." Arlan lied once again. "After I was injured the others put me in that shelter, and that's all I remember before I woke up. Still though, coulda been worse." Arlan chortled and shrugged as he walked on. "Nothing quite so glamorous as you. If you are really all the Republic needs to get their ship back then you gotta be a hell of a fighter Serra." Arlan implied that last part more than outright ask. "And I have to agree with you. If they are unloading the cargo I doubt they've been here long enough."

With that said Arlan took a moment to bend at the knee and stretch himself out. The soreness in his joints and the stiffness of healing wounds had long begun to fade. Though he did not like bacta he could certainly not knock it's ability to heal, for Arlan now felt new life flowing into him. Of course he still needed his crutch to walk, he could at the very least do so more easily. Perhaps by the time he and Serra reached their destination he would be able to move better still.

[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

"Not a very dependable crew you had there, if they had a perfectly good ship to take you to safety with, and instead left you to die on a planet like this in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but rations." Something in Arlan's story was not adding up. Why would they have left him here when they could just as easily take him with them and get him medical attention elsewhere? Sera wondered if he had done something to cause them to abandon him here. Perhaps he tried, or succeeded killing someone. Maybe he robbed the crew? Perhaps he sabotaged their research efforts? Either way, he wasn't telling her the whole story, but she didn't have time to stop and debate the legitimacy of his tale. So instead she opted for feigned belief. "That's terribly unfortunate." Pushing aside a few low hanging branches covered by brightly colored leaves for the two to navigate through, Sera paused so that Arlan could get through before her, making it easier for him with his crutch. "I wouldn't exactly call it glamorous. But when the Republic asks for help one, sometimes two of us, are asked to provide aide. And so we do. That's just how it is."

After about an hour or two of navigating their way through the dense jungle, carefully dodging predators, natural traps and poisonous flora, they came across a clearing where a ship matching the description of the stolen Republic ship could be seen. It looked like it had sustained a bit of hull damage, either from turbolaser fire, or some other engagement likely incurred while escaping the Republic forces. The Twi'lek held out her hand for Arlan to stop. The woman knelt down and watched for a few moments for activity. It seemed rather quiet for the moment. Perhaps the raiders were inside, or perhaps they had in fact made off with all of the cargo faster than anticipated. "That's the ship we're after." She whispered quietly to Arlan. They were still a ways away, but she took no chances with this sort of thing. The clearing was wide so it wouldn't be easy to sneak up on the freighter, especially if they had any kind of surveillance setup. "I don't see another ship close by. They must be transporting the cargo with some kind of equipment elsewhere. The question is, are they inside? Or are they heading to, or coming back from a trip moving a portion of the cargo."

[member="Arlan Zy'rosh"]