"Captain's Log, stardate...
Primeday, I think. Or was that yesterday?
No wait, it's Taungsday. Fifth of Elona. I'm positive on that, as sure as my name is... Wait... could it be the Seventh?
Whatever. We've been in space a long ass time."
CEC YT-2400 LIGHT FREIGHTER
ALDERAAN QUEEN
UNCHARTERED SPACE
They'd been in space for two months.
They'd departed the charted territories and questionably safe hyperspace corridors a month ago, relying on the unique method of hyperspace astrogation used by the Clan Rekali navicomputer to sustain lightspeed for another three weeks before increasing levels of background radiation had caused enough interference with the sensors as to drop them back to sub-light just a country mile shy of the coordinates he'd been given.
You see, it all started on Kalshabbol.
And, if the owners of the Chiss and Whistle Tavern are reading this, without admitting any guilt, I just want to say, WHO THE FETH PLAYS QUARTERS WITH A YOUNGLING? Because, spoiler alert, they couldn't hold their liquor worth a damn. And even if he had been up at the Sabaac table, that was still just inapprops, yo. Plus, on the bright side, that window had been hideous. Now, what had happened to that Ithorian rosewood bar... that... that had been a travesty.
Anyway, after breaking out of jail...
What? Why was he breaking out of jail? or why had he been in jail in the first place? Or both, because both were kinda legitimate questions which any self-respecting Jedi Master ought to have the answers for. Not to mention a very good explanation. And he did.
That being, what part of CORELLIAN VAMPIRE did people not understand? Seriously, that was like the worst parts of both Anzat and Corellian.
And, to be honest (for a change), Sor-Jan wasn't really clear on the "how" or the "who" or the "what." Or even the "what was in that bottle," which he was honestly curious about because he wanted to make sure he never had any ever again. EVER. And he was an Anzat. "Ever" was a super long, long time for them.
Can we get on with the important stuff now? Seriously, if people thought what happened on Kalshebbol was the first and/or last time that Sor-Jan Xantha was going to wind up in jail, they obviously hadn't met the kid. For very long, anyway.
In jail, he'd met Jansay.
Jansay was a fringer. As in, a real fringer. No bath in the time it took to get from Kalshebbol to Demonsgate, without a hyperdrive that is, and he pretty much just traveled from place to place looking for the next bar to get thrown out of. He was sleeping off a night of drinking after mistaking a power droid for a urinal. Jansay had talked about how he'd come out to the frontiers of space with some sort of Crusade.
To be honest, it was a little religious and just a tad too preach-y. Sor-Jan wondered if it wasn't at all related with that Primeval chit that had been brewing around Korriban. In any event, he'd kind of not been listening much on those parts.
What had caught his attention was something about a planet named Exo.
And that's a different story. One older than the hung-over Anzat. It began in the earliest days of the Republic. Before hyperdrive, when travel had been aboard colony ships and the Mid-Rim was a vast unknown. An organization known as the Cabal had sent such colony ships out into what was now known as the Outer Rim in search of a mythical utopia they called Exo.
Of course, each had vanished, never to be heard from again.
Now, you can imagine that this kind of story was fuel for all kinds of scams, fake sightings, and urban myths. So when Jansay had said that he had proof of Exo, it had been easy for Sor-Jan to laugh the man off as one really terrible con artist. Except Jansay has a pistol.
Not really a pistol. At least, not what anyone would consider to be a pistol now. It was almost more of a percussion instrument. Using compressed air and explosive gas propellant to form a primitive sort of slugthrower. And it was old. At least as old as Sor-Jan, and with markings that harkened back to the Old Republic.
Before they'd parted ways, Jansay had passed along the relic and a set of coordiantes and Sor-Jan had paid Jansay enough to open his own bar, or book passage to Sullust. If he opted for the latter, Sor-Jan had recommended he used any remaining credits to get thrown out of the Buffler's Halt. And just neglected to mention the part where it was a Gamorrean strip club... If Jansay took him up on the recommendation, he'd be figuring that part out for himself very quickly.
The coordinates had been completely off the map. Which probably seemed like total madness at the time, except he'd basically been an eleven year old with a hang over and at least half the Sector Rangers trying to arrest him on a fugitive warrant. Mainly because he was too cheap to post bail.
Hey, if he was going to blow credits on a completely unreliable source of information for clues to a planet most astronomers agree doesn't exist then that didn't leave a whole lot left over for things like bail, or court fees, or even parking fees for that matter. Luckily, it would take at least eight months for the warrant to make its way out to Voss, which gave the boy plenty of time to work on his alibi for when it came across [member="Coci Heavenshield"]'s desk.
Either by chance, circumstance, or pure coincidence, it seemed that Sor-Jan wasn't alone. Be that in the quest to find Exo or just blast out of Kalshebbol like a mynock out of hell. The Bryce fellow had tagged along for one, and it seemed that the man had friends.
And, doubtless, for two long months they'd lived to regret that decision.
Now, as the small Anzat looked out of the transparisteel canopy of the Queen's cockpit, the boy saw something he feared may have been a hallucination. And, if it was, nobody better ruin the illusion for him. "Ladies and gentlemen, and whatever [member="Joza Perl"] is, this is your captain speaking," the youngling said, picking up a commlink and keying the intercom so that his voice voyaged through the ship and to any of the other transports in their makeshift wagon-train to the stars. If any other ships were even still with them. Braver men would have turned back by now. "If you'll make your way to the Lido Deck, you'll see a planet coming up at our ten o'clock."
It was small. A single point of light, too dull to be a star and hovering against the eternal backdrop of night like a shadow. But slowly, it was getting bigger. A world. Exactly where Jansay said it would be.
"Make preparations for shore leave. We land in twenty."
Primeday, I think. Or was that yesterday?
No wait, it's Taungsday. Fifth of Elona. I'm positive on that, as sure as my name is... Wait... could it be the Seventh?
Whatever. We've been in space a long ass time."
ALDERAAN QUEEN
UNCHARTERED SPACE
They'd been in space for two months.
They'd departed the charted territories and questionably safe hyperspace corridors a month ago, relying on the unique method of hyperspace astrogation used by the Clan Rekali navicomputer to sustain lightspeed for another three weeks before increasing levels of background radiation had caused enough interference with the sensors as to drop them back to sub-light just a country mile shy of the coordinates he'd been given.
You see, it all started on Kalshabbol.
And, if the owners of the Chiss and Whistle Tavern are reading this, without admitting any guilt, I just want to say, WHO THE FETH PLAYS QUARTERS WITH A YOUNGLING? Because, spoiler alert, they couldn't hold their liquor worth a damn. And even if he had been up at the Sabaac table, that was still just inapprops, yo. Plus, on the bright side, that window had been hideous. Now, what had happened to that Ithorian rosewood bar... that... that had been a travesty.
Anyway, after breaking out of jail...
What? Why was he breaking out of jail? or why had he been in jail in the first place? Or both, because both were kinda legitimate questions which any self-respecting Jedi Master ought to have the answers for. Not to mention a very good explanation. And he did.
That being, what part of CORELLIAN VAMPIRE did people not understand? Seriously, that was like the worst parts of both Anzat and Corellian.
And, to be honest (for a change), Sor-Jan wasn't really clear on the "how" or the "who" or the "what." Or even the "what was in that bottle," which he was honestly curious about because he wanted to make sure he never had any ever again. EVER. And he was an Anzat. "Ever" was a super long, long time for them.
Can we get on with the important stuff now? Seriously, if people thought what happened on Kalshebbol was the first and/or last time that Sor-Jan Xantha was going to wind up in jail, they obviously hadn't met the kid. For very long, anyway.
In jail, he'd met Jansay.
Jansay was a fringer. As in, a real fringer. No bath in the time it took to get from Kalshebbol to Demonsgate, without a hyperdrive that is, and he pretty much just traveled from place to place looking for the next bar to get thrown out of. He was sleeping off a night of drinking after mistaking a power droid for a urinal. Jansay had talked about how he'd come out to the frontiers of space with some sort of Crusade.
To be honest, it was a little religious and just a tad too preach-y. Sor-Jan wondered if it wasn't at all related with that Primeval chit that had been brewing around Korriban. In any event, he'd kind of not been listening much on those parts.
What had caught his attention was something about a planet named Exo.
And that's a different story. One older than the hung-over Anzat. It began in the earliest days of the Republic. Before hyperdrive, when travel had been aboard colony ships and the Mid-Rim was a vast unknown. An organization known as the Cabal had sent such colony ships out into what was now known as the Outer Rim in search of a mythical utopia they called Exo.
Of course, each had vanished, never to be heard from again.
Now, you can imagine that this kind of story was fuel for all kinds of scams, fake sightings, and urban myths. So when Jansay had said that he had proof of Exo, it had been easy for Sor-Jan to laugh the man off as one really terrible con artist. Except Jansay has a pistol.
Not really a pistol. At least, not what anyone would consider to be a pistol now. It was almost more of a percussion instrument. Using compressed air and explosive gas propellant to form a primitive sort of slugthrower. And it was old. At least as old as Sor-Jan, and with markings that harkened back to the Old Republic.
Before they'd parted ways, Jansay had passed along the relic and a set of coordiantes and Sor-Jan had paid Jansay enough to open his own bar, or book passage to Sullust. If he opted for the latter, Sor-Jan had recommended he used any remaining credits to get thrown out of the Buffler's Halt. And just neglected to mention the part where it was a Gamorrean strip club... If Jansay took him up on the recommendation, he'd be figuring that part out for himself very quickly.
The coordinates had been completely off the map. Which probably seemed like total madness at the time, except he'd basically been an eleven year old with a hang over and at least half the Sector Rangers trying to arrest him on a fugitive warrant. Mainly because he was too cheap to post bail.
Hey, if he was going to blow credits on a completely unreliable source of information for clues to a planet most astronomers agree doesn't exist then that didn't leave a whole lot left over for things like bail, or court fees, or even parking fees for that matter. Luckily, it would take at least eight months for the warrant to make its way out to Voss, which gave the boy plenty of time to work on his alibi for when it came across [member="Coci Heavenshield"]'s desk.
Either by chance, circumstance, or pure coincidence, it seemed that Sor-Jan wasn't alone. Be that in the quest to find Exo or just blast out of Kalshebbol like a mynock out of hell. The Bryce fellow had tagged along for one, and it seemed that the man had friends.
And, doubtless, for two long months they'd lived to regret that decision.
Now, as the small Anzat looked out of the transparisteel canopy of the Queen's cockpit, the boy saw something he feared may have been a hallucination. And, if it was, nobody better ruin the illusion for him. "Ladies and gentlemen, and whatever [member="Joza Perl"] is, this is your captain speaking," the youngling said, picking up a commlink and keying the intercom so that his voice voyaged through the ship and to any of the other transports in their makeshift wagon-train to the stars. If any other ships were even still with them. Braver men would have turned back by now. "If you'll make your way to the Lido Deck, you'll see a planet coming up at our ten o'clock."
It was small. A single point of light, too dull to be a star and hovering against the eternal backdrop of night like a shadow. But slowly, it was getting bigger. A world. Exactly where Jansay said it would be.
"Make preparations for shore leave. We land in twenty."
[member="Ijaat Mereel"] | [member="Tilzi"] | [member="Matthew Robinson"] | [member="Lok Munin"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Eliza Raxis"]
