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| - The afternoon progressed in quiet reflection as Silas and Laera retreated to their quarters to rest after their mutual ordeal. Silas needed rather more of it, so he lay on his stomach while Laera administered a Force-assisted full-body massage before the two got down to other business. Ooryl, Asyr and Ari had retreated to the ship's other set of quarters, which consisted of a stack of three folding cots, a small series of desk terminals, a large closet divided into three sections, and a three-seat table. While the two temporal refugees reconnected in the physical realm, their guests spent their time talking shop and teaching the Sa'ari how to play sabacc. “Things will be different between them,” Ari said as Asyr dealt her a pair of cards. “They were already quite close, but now...” Her voice trailed off as she realized that she didn't quite know how to finish the thought. Instead, she shrugged and examined the hand she had been dealt. Ooryl, however, seemed to understand. “The mists have bound them on an even deeper level,” he said in agreement. “They are already one.” “Laera has accepted me into her 'crew', as it were,” Ari began thoughtfully, tossing one of the cards back and getting a new one. They had been playing through several simulated sabacc pots now, and though Ari had quickly realized that a Force-user could easily dominate the game, she felt that it would remove all the challenge and, thus, the fun. Still, her other senses were finely-honed enough that she won as often as she lost; not that it mattered, as they were playing for stacks of nothing. “Which leaves me to wonder, what are your plans?” Ooryl nodded and Asyr's ears fell flat as they glanced at their own cards. “I have been contemplating that as well,” the Gand replied. “I have nowhere else to go at this point, so I will do as you did: ask to join her crew.” Asyr exchanged both cards and, picking up their replacements, let out a low growl. “I'm not certain,” she said after a beat. “I do still have contacts here on Bothawui, contacts that need to be maintained...” “Ooryl understands this, of course,” the Gand replied in what Ari had come to realize was an intentional diminishment of self, a habitual aspect of his speech that seemed to be a small act of contrition in itself. She admired it, in fact, as it allowed even the most boastful among his kind to maintain good manners. “But if Laera and Silas are willing, and he finds a place here, then Ooryl would be honored to have an old friend along for the journey.” “If it helps, I did get the impression that they intend to stay on this world for some time yet,” Ari offered. “The details are likely not important, but you should have sufficient time to attend to any outstanding issues.” “It's not that,” Asyr replied pensively. “Well, not really. My core network is small, and only rarely do I need to meet those within it face-to-face. My work is important, but...” Ooryl offered the Bothan a hopeful nod. “...but you know that it will last well beyond your lifetime,” he finished for her. “Can you not find an heir? Someone who can carry on in your stead to perpetuate the movement?” “I suppose I could,” Asyr replied, shrugging to herself. “Traest is retired now, and he does need something to do...” “Then it is settled,” Ari declared, tossing her cards face-up onto the table and nodding victory. “At the evening meal, we shall pose the question to Laera and Silas. I have every expectation that they will welcome you both.” As if to punctuate the resolution, an echoing rapping noise sounded against the outer hull. Deftly backing out from behind the table, Ari led the trio as they left the cabin to investigate the disturbance. Entering the main area, they heard the sounding of the external chime. “I guess we should get it,” Asyr shrugged, noticing that the hatch leading to Laera and Silas's quarters remained sealed. She activated the entry ramp, which extended to reveal the presence of a tall, rust-red bipedal combat droid brandishing a wicked-looking blaster carbine. “Statement: I have detected the presence of my Master within this vessel, meatbag,” it said in a menacing hiss. “Threat: You will allow this unit access, or it will commence the use of its sophisticated assassination protocols.” “Oh, it's you,” Ari replied warmly, not missing a beat nor batting an eyelash. “They're inside, to the left as you enter the central hold, but I would not disturb them if I were in your position.” “Assessment: Bipedal humanoid meatbag of significant height; bald, blue and well-proportioned. Conclusion: You are a native of T'lessia, otherwise known as a Sa'ari.” “I am indeed,” Ari replied, holding her arms out. She knew what the machine in front of her was, of course; Pelenora's briefings had been very thorough. “You must be HK-47.” The droid seemed to ponder that for a moment, then strode purposefully up the ramp before shoving the carbine's muzzle upward and into Ari's face. “Warning: Your knowledge of this unit's designation is not lost on it. You will take it to its Master—” “HK-47, stand down this instant!” Laera's authoritative voice snarled from behind Ari, Asyr and Ooryl. The droid reacted with impressive speed, slinging its carbine across its back and standing ramrod straight. “It's about damn time you got back here,” she continued. “What kept you?” “Request: Master, I will do whatever you order of me—even if that means being non-violent. However, I must ask that you tell me what your wishes are, as I am not equipped to receive telepathic forms of communication.” After a beat, Silas burst out laughing; he was quickly joined by Asyr and Ooryl, then by Ari and, finally and begrudgingly, by Laera, whose expression of mirth was more of a chortle. “Fair enough, HK,” she said as the commotion died down. “Got anything interesting to report?” “Statement: No Master, I have not encountered any interesting tidbits of information. Explanation: You see, after you left me at the bank to rust out like a common labor droid, I was forced to attempt a thorough search of the spaceport, covertly of course. Commentary: I must say that, though security measures seem to have been stepped up in the intervening centuries, they are still not optimized for the detection and discouragement of self-guiding, autonomous units such as myself.” “So how did you finally find us?” Silas, still smirking, asked. “Answer: I managed to observe the movements of the Sa'ari meatbag as it attempted to leave the spaceport, however she was able to lose me soon after. Addendum: By process of elimination, I was able to use my own sensor suite to detect your rather...unique meatbag signatures...within this particular vessel.” Laera cracked a knowing smile at the droid as he finished his summation of the last day's events as they pertained to himself. “Well, consider yourself lucky,” she said. “You could have been embedded with a program virus while you weren't looking...” “Exclamation: Damn it Master, you have no idea what you are talking about!” the droid protested. “I can't leave you alone for a moment without you picking up more pathetic meatbags!” “Does that thing refer to everyone as 'meatbags'?” Asyr inquired ruefully, shooting the droid a half-amused, half-scandalized look. “You get used to it,” Silas commented wryly. “Laera hates the thing, but we put up with him because, like it or not, he's useful.” “So Ari explained to us,” Asyr replied under her breath. Silas cocked an eyebrow at her, his fur rippling with mingled curiosity and mild surprise. “So, I see you two have met our little stowaway as well,” he said. “Oh, don't worry, I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for how you got here,” he added after catching sight of Ari's sheepish look. “There was probably a lot going on while I was out.” Laera turned away from where the droid had plugged itself into the ship's computer, after having been ordered to interface with it and draw whatever records he could. “I see everyone's enjoying the new flimsiweight,” she smirked. “Come on, let's leave him to it and get some chow. There are some things I'd like to discuss with you all, preferably over dinner.” — — — “For being four thousand years old, this bruallki is quite enjoyable,” Asyr remarked as she finished swallowing a forkful. “This benefactor of yours certainly knew how to stock a pantry.” “That's what Silas and I wanted to talk to you all about,” Laera said, putting down her own utensils. “Though there's no way to prove it, we are certain that this was all arranged for us by a man named Revan.” Predictably, there was no immediate reaction. “We're not surprised that the name doesn't ring any bells,” Silas acknowledged with a shrug. “Only dedicated students of history are likely to know it, never mind what he represented.” “Ari told us about what transpired on T'lessia,” Ooryl offered, his place empty as he had declined the invitation to dine in front of them. “However, she did not know where, or rather when, you hailed from. There is a certain biographical work, of course, that—” Laera smiled, an expression that was at the same time embarrassed and amused. “Yes, we've heard of it,” she sighed. “A copy dated some three hundred years after our little leap forward was wedged behind the ship's navigational computer.” To her and Silas's surprise, Asyr's ears perked up and her aura blazed with curiosity. “That would put this ship's date of manufacture at about the time of the Sith Assault, would it not?” Laera and Silas exchanged glances. “We've heard that phrase before, when we took ownership of this vessel yesterday,” Laera said bemusedly. “It seemed to be an important date in the history of Bothawui.” “Very important,” Asyr assured her. “It was in 3,671 BBY—I don't know if you know that dating system yet—but that is close to the time period you describe. The basics are this: some years previously, the remains of the Sith Empire that the Republic had beaten in 5,000 BBY returned in force, conquering worlds along the Outer Rim during the first stage of what we now call the Great Galactic War. They then sought to make inroads into the Mid Rim, and first on their list was our homeworld of Bothawui. The Republic fleet came together here, and the first attempt by the Sith to invade ended in disaster for them. “But the defending fleet dispersed soon afterward,” she continued after a beat, “leaving only a few dozen Jedi Knights and a few thousand soldiers behind to defend Bothawui itself. I believe a contingent of Marines was part of this defense, but it has been decades since I've studied the specifics.” “According to my research, the force included two companies of the 7th Marine Battalion,” Ooryl supplied. Laera cast him an appreciative look, and Silas smiled. “The Sith came back soon after,” Asyr continued. “The defenders, led by Jedi Master Betlth Allusis, resolved to stand and fight despite the fact that the invaders outnumbered them ten to one...” Asyr proceeded to describe in detail how the battle played out, her tone and aura displaying her awe at their sacrifice. The vastly-outnumbered force, gathered together in defense of the planetary shield generator, had held out for many days before reinforcements from the Republic could intervene. However, the Sith had had the weight of numbers on their side, and by the time help had come, the entire defending force had been obliterated—however, four-fifths of the attackers, some forty thousand troops in all, had been killed. In the face of an impending lifting of the siege, the Sith force had retreated once more. “...to this day there remains a monument to Master Allusis and his forces, dedicated at the old generator site after the Cold War had ended with the defeat of the Sith,” she concluded. The five of them spent another hour discussing the Great Galactic War, the Cold War that had followed, and how the conflict had eventually been resolved. Through this conversation, Laera and Silas came to realize that their new ship did in fact date from that time period, as did the entire contents thereof; it also explained how forty thousand credits' worth of back pay and savings, from both their accounts, could have ballooned to over three hundred twenty-seven billion. On top of that, it also explained how Revan had lived for so long. “Yes, I suppose that would make sense,” Asyr said in response to Silas's postulation. “He left a holocron behind prior to his departure after the Jedi Civil War,” Laera replied. “It would follow that, after escaping the Emperor, he would have realized that Silas and I hadn't yet popped out of hyperspace. For whatever reason, he endeavored to prepare a suitable welcome-back gift for when we did.” “It does seem to be quite a bounty,” Ari, who had been quiet throughout the impromptu history lesson, remarked idly. “If I were a betting being, I would lay good odds on him not expecting you to be gone for quite so long.” “No takers here,” Silas quipped, Laera nodding in agreement. “Right, well, as fascinating as this is, we need to get to the point,” she said, her officer voice drawing everyone's attention back onto her. “Ari, you've already agreed to work with Silas and myself. What we would like to know is whether or not you, Asyr and Ooryl, would be willing to join us as well. We've still got quite a lot of catching up to do, and we would appreciate having both of you on board.” “Do you know where you will go once you leave?” Asyr asked, her fur fluttering slightly. “Silas and I have discussed it,” Laera replied with a nod. “There's a barren world in Ojoster sector, Rimward of Taris, that would suit our needs. I doubt you will find it on any star charts, but having lived on that rock for damn near five years means that it's impossible to not remember the coordinates. The world is called Bad Alshir.” “Speaking of Taris,” Silas added, “do either of you know if the planet ever recovered?” “For the most part, yes,” Ooryl replied. “It is mostly a haven for the galactic fringe, however; large swaths of land remain in ruins, the native flora having taken over.” “I thought so,” the Bothan replied sourly. “What we do once we arrive depends on what we find,” Laera continued after waiting to see how else this conversation could be sidetracked. “I'm hoping that we can start building up a base there...yes, Asyr?” “A base for what, exactly?” Laera and Silas exchanged glances. “May as well tell them now,” he said under his breath. “We're hoping to use our resources to restart the Marine Corps,” Laera said briskly. “It won't be an official government organization, but more along the lines of a mercenary band—at least at first. Our long-term goal would be to set up an independent peacekeeping agency and conflict-intervention force for use in monitoring hotspots and preventing armed disagreements from spreading farther. Once we get set up and start recruiting trustworthy officers, pilots and soldiers, we hope to covertly inform the Jedi Order of our existence and availability, liaising with them as necessary to find out where we can provide assistance. I am still a Jedi Knight, after all, and they will respect that, but they will also respect our need for discretion.” “That is a lofty goal,” Ooryl replied after a moment of thought. “One that suits your capabilities and resources. I would be honored to be a part of it.” “With that kind of cash, you could buy and sell all of Bothawui several times over,” Asyr added, brushing at her hair. “Stang, I'm in too.” “Then it's settled,” Laera said, a broad, earnest smile on her face. “We're now all one big happy family, so to speak.” “In the meantime, we've got a lot of reading to do at the Central Library, and another payment to collect in a couple of days,” Silas put in. “We don't know when we'll be leaving, but we're not necessarily in any hurry. So, starting tomorrow, make whatever arrangements you need to, then let us know when you're ready to head out.” — — — Later that evening, Asyr approached Silas in the cockpit, where he was busying himself with learning the Challenger's systems. She watched as he flicked switches according to a diagram in the ship's owner's manual, deducing by the slight hesitation in his actions that he was definitely not used to the design. He also seemed to be... “It's been a long time since you've flown, hasn't it?” she asked tentatively. Her footsteps had been silent, her movements minimal and measured, and her voice low; even so, he did not flinch in the slightest. This caused Asyr to smile to herself as Silas turned to regard her. “I was once a pilot myself,” Asyr explained, holding her hand to her chest. “Though my preferred mode of transport was a starfighter and I haven't flown one in years.” “Good to hear,” Silas acknowledged gratefully. “My piloting skills are marginal at the best of times, so why don't you plop down into the co-pilot's seat and help me out here.” “I thought you'd never ask,” Asyr replied playfully, taking the indicated seat and looking over the various instrument panels. “Definitely Corellian in origin,” she said after a few moments' contemplative silence. “Hmm, maybe even a CEC product.” “CEC?” Silas asked, glancing over from the nav station. “Corellian Engineering Corporation,” Asyr supplied brightly. “They've made some of the best light- and medium-haul freighters in the galaxy for thousands of years. Not so great with the really big ships, for some reason...” Asyr's voice trailed off as she began looking over the ion engine controls, and the cockpit descended into silence save for the occasional muttered comment. After what seemed like an age, Asyr broached the question for which she had come here in the first place. “So...how did you and Laera meet, anyway?” “If you want the holodrama version, you should go and read Goodnight Brain,” Silas replied, a mixture of amusement and wistfulness rippling across his features. “As for the truth, it's not quite so sensational, but it is more gratifying.” “I noticed that she is closer to my age than yours,” Asyr quipped, earning herself a glare. “Oh, I mean, it's not like...” Her voice trailed off and Silas smirked. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he replied. “You wouldn't believe the stares I've been getting from the women around here ever since we arrived.” “Well, you are rather tall...and handsome...” Silas's smirk turned into an amused grin. “I would say that flattery will get you everywhere, Asyr, but I'm happy with Laera,” he said soothingly. “Though your observations are quite welcome.” Asyr's neck and facial fur fluttered violently, and she could feel her cheeks burning in humiliation. She was at the far edge of her childbearing years and she knew it, but such a clumsy come-on should have been far beneath her. It wasn't as though she was interested in him as a mate...or was she? Reflecting on the last day's events, she had to admit that he held a certain allure; he was, after all, a remarkable example of their species, he represented a time when their people had contributed greatly to the galactic community, and he was even distantly related to her old friend Liska. She had to admit that, in any other situation, she might have put aside her work and gone on a lovestalk of her own. Silas's chuckle brought Asyr out of her ruminations. “Alright, you want to know how we met, huh?” he asked. When she nodded, he relaxed in his seat and opened his hands. “Well, we were first introduced about a year after the Jedi Civil War had begun...” — — — After the impromptu dinner party had broken up, Laera ventured back into the aft cargo hold, to check out the scout speeder that Hul'selru had told them about. Ensconced between the main cabin and the engine spaces, it occupied the aft central portion of the ship; upon entering, Laera quickly realized that it dwarfed the largest single hold on a Dynamic-class freighter. The speeder was also quite large, so much so that it barely fit in the hold and looked as though it might have been assembled inside. Resembling a shelled land-crawler, it looked to be a three-person craft with two sitting in an open-air cockpit just behind the blunt nose and a single-panel transparisteel shield, and a third manning a powerful-looking heavy repeating blaster mounted in a turret with armor plating around the front and sides. Protruding from its bulbous backside were two large engines mounted on thick, aerodynamic pylons canted at a forty-five degree angle. Though the speeder's looks weren't much to go by, it did give off a sense of having it where it counted, and that was all that mattered to Laera as she ran her hand along the rear end. “Not that I'll be trying this thing out myself,” Laera said ruefully, knowing full well that she would just as likely crash it as drive it anywhere. “That repeater will be fun to shoot, though.” Turning to leave the hold, Laera caught a flash of light in the corner of her eye. “Hold on there,” she said as she looked to its source. “What might you be?” Beeping and whistling happily, a utility droid scooted out from its hiding place, a small alcove that housed a dual interface power-recharge station and computer terminal. “Oh, that's right,” Laera mused at the droid as its flat, cylindrical head spun about. “Hul'selru said there was a T7 unit in here as well. What's your designation?” The droid beebled again, and a small panel on its left leg opened to reveal a schematic bearing its capabilities and letter-number designation. Laera bent down to examine it; from what she could tell, it was apparently a high-end model that was capable of plotting hyperspace jumps and assisting in flying the ship, in addition to conducting routine maintenance and emergency repairs. “T7-H6, eh?” she said bemusedly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I'm Laera Reyolé, it's good to meet you.” As if reacting to the greeting, the droid's systems seemed to go into lockdown as it canted its chassis backward. Its headlight flared, and an amorphous image began to appear on the deck before it, resolving itself into the life-size form of a handsome-looking Human male in dark brown robes that vaguely resembled Jedi apparel. Laera looked up and into its face, recognition dragging her to her feet. “Hello, Laera,” the hologram of Revan began, its blue-tinted visage smiling. “If you're seeing this message, then you've finally come out of hyperspace...”
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