[fieldbox="Kana Acula — Jedi Guardian, #396, dashed, 10, Trebuchet MS"]
Kana scowled when her whiskey was suddenly taken away from her. Biting back a protest, she nodded, knowing through the slight haze that Ishua was right. She needed to be alert for the funeral, no matter how much she just wanted to stay there. Anything to distract her from the turmoil going on underneath the surface. With a slight huff, she got to her feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness that attempted to slow her down. Ishua's words echoed in her mind as she went, gnawing away at the careful stubbornness she usually relied on. The Jedi were lucky at that moment; her already-inebriated mind had not processed what Kuno had said about the Sith. She instead thought about much more useless things as she retrieved the pellets and changed into her charcoal colored formal robes.

I'm a general, not the general. She knew full well what he had meant by that, and it had taken all her self-control not to dispute him right there. He was more than a general; he was her friend. And someone she had grown to rely on in the past months. They'd been working together for almost a year now, and it had quickly become the longest assignment she'd received. And, if recent events were any indication, she doubted she would be reassigned anytime soon. Kana didn't particularly want to be reassigned anyways, though she wasn't entirely sure why. She'd made friends before; why was Ishua any different? Even Kuno, whom she normally wouldn't trust an inch because of his background, had proven himself to gain her respect. It was a strange feeling, one that she couldn't well identify even to herself.

"You're one of the caretakers here?" Kana asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she was given a simple nod. The man sitting across from her was Ishua Ken, more well-known as "The Grey Jedi." He had a thinly veiled expression of amusement, as if he found it hilarious that she'd been sent to make sure everything at the Jedi enclave was in working order. That was the usual assignment, and she did not expect to stay more than two months. Normally, the caretakers--or whoever was in charge--would take her quite seriously, as if they were under some kind of official review. This Jedi, however, hardly gave the reaction she'd come to expect.

And it was pissing her off.

"Well, I can already tell I have my work cut out for me," she jibed, watching carefully for his reaction. Another smirk, with an even more bemused expression. Her lips thinned as she tried to dispel her own irritation. What was so damn funny about this? The Jedi enclave, while certainly not in the worst condition, was lacking the discipline that she had hoped to see. The whole atmosphere of the place was far too relaxed, and she was sure this damn Jedi was the main source of it. Or at least he did nothing about it. Getting to her feet, Kana made several notes in her data pad, her eyes wandering to the outdated astromech tittering along next to Ken. "Why don't you invest in a newer model? It'd be much more efficient. No use in being attached to an astromech." She had said it harmlessly, but the Jedi quickly seemed to take offense.

"Why in hell would I do that?" He stood up suddenly, his amusement having turned into annoyance. Despite herself, Kana took a step back, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two. Even the droid cried out indignantly. She held her hands up in surrender then, figuring it wasn't a worthwhile battle. The Grey Jedi shrugged it off quickly, though it was clear he no longer found this very entertaining. She smirked, feeling as if she had triumphed a bit. Perhaps now he would take this all more seriously and make it that much easier for her to finish quickly.

She'd never been more wrong.

Kana stopped in her tracks and her thoughts, surprised to see a Council member in her path. She had almost reached the funeral pyres, where the Council and most of the other Jedi had already gathered. "Are you Kana Acula, Jedi Knight on the Sojourn?" She nodded, wondering why a member of the Council would be addressing her. His expression was grim, wrinkles creased as another Jedi--likely his apprentice--produced what appeared to be a cylinder wrapped in cloth. Fear gripped her forcefully, her mouth becoming dry as she took it in hand. Her mind detached itself then, her eyes seeing but not really comprehending as she unwrapped the cloth. Inside was a lightsaber, one that she knew very well. She looked up, focusing instantly on the funeral pyre closest to her. She'd been drawn to it already. Without even realizing, she'd been going towards her master's corpse.

She thanked the Jedi Master, but his next words fell on dull ears. As the sun disappeared below the horizon, the light of her own mind seemed to dim. She thought back, her hands trembling. During the battle, she had felt such a harsh disturbance, like she'd been ripped in half. Before, she thought it had been Ishua. Part of it had been. But now, she knew. She knew that it had been her own master as well. Kana walked slowly, gripping the saber tightly as she stopped a short distance from Ven Shiti's pyre. There he lay, solemn and peaceful. His peppered beard was as unkept as ever, but his skin was far paler than it should have been. It was then that she dropped to one knee, unable to stay on her own damn feet.

Failure. You failed. You were too weak, and now he's dead. Despair crushed her, but her expression remained carefully guarded. As the funeral commenced, she watched in internal agony as his body went up in flames. Failure. Weak. Over and over. Master Shiti, the man who had cared for her as one of his own, was dead. She remembered the warmth of his voice, the dry wit of his humor. The way he had taught her with a gentle but firm hand. She'd never see any of that again. What was more, she now had no one to turn to for guidance. She was alone. But wasn't she always? In the end, everyone she loved ended up dead. This was no different.

As grief weighed upon her shoulders, anger simmered beneath the surface. Anger turned to rage turned to hate. She would find the Sith. She would kill them. Every last one.
[/fieldbox]Interactions: n/a
Mentions: Ishua Ken, Kuno Delrah
 
[fieldbox=Ishua Ken, green, solid, 8, book antiqua]
It weighed heavily on Ishua's conscience when he list the pyre of the former grandmaster. As the grandmaster had tutored many apprentices and never had a true successor, it was Ishua's duty to light his pyre as the man who saw him last. As the Jedi Master drew his hood, and- feeling the Dark Side surround his friend, he walked over to her.

First he simply put his arm on her shoulder, but soon enough he pulled her in, giving her a hug as he helped her to stand. His touch was light as he kept her close, the woman's head just below his chin. For now, sha just needed a friend.

"It's alright, Kana- I will always be here for you. I promise."
[/fieldbox]
 

DAI'RHETT KARYC
THEED, NABOO
1330 GALACTIC STANDARD HOURS

Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. Today is a good day for someone else to die.

It was a phrase he remembered his father uttering before he left to drive the Confederation from Mandalore with his mother. His father had taken him aside while his mother prepared, a paternal hand on his shoulder. I’ll be home shortly, Dai’ika, he’d said. Keep the fire hot for me.

He’d been left in Bralsin to watch over the younger kids and keep them safe. Karyc kids were clever and wise for their age, thankfully, and so Dai’rhett had been able to devote his time working over each of his father’s words in his head.

Even now, as he sat tending to his rifle, the words did their rounds in his head. He’d been sitting so long that his neck had started to stiffen and his fingers weren’t gripping as they should. The AXM-50’s barrel had been cracked on their last assignment-- an inexperienced saber wielder who’d got a lucky hit and left a moderately deep gouge in his favorite rifle’s side. No internal systems damaged, but Rhett was still rather agitated.

Following these repairs would be pounding the dents out of his armor, which was awaiting him on its rack, and counting credits. Paid forward a grand total of twenty thousand at Dai’rhett’s request. Technically, it had been more of a demand, but the outcome would have been the same either way.

Dai’rhett hummed in satisfaction when the blaster warmed to his touch as if in thanks. He sat back in his chair, threw his head back, and arched his back until he heard a pop. The tension eased. He returned his tools to their proper compartments and stood, sighing heavily. Apparently forgetting about the dents, he slipped back into his armor.

He could use a drink. Or two. Or maybe several.

… One would do.

There was a cache of Corellian brandy somewhere in the cargo hold, somewhere with the crew’s rations and where the illumination banks didn’t reach. Come to think of it, he ought to have brought the stash up to his cabin long ago. How disappointing.
Dai’rhett exited his quarters and made his way to the elevator that took him down to the main deck. The ship had been a mess when he’d first gotten his hands on it, yet now… now it felt like home.

The ship. His ship was an old, ancient, AEG-77, refitted and upgraded to fit modern standards. A complete hull overhaul and a newer hyperdrive that had almost cost them too many credits, and along the ship’s port, extra turret sockets had been set in place. Despite the reinforcements to her outer shell, she was a graceful thing in battle, and a menacing sight when docked. In Dai’rhett’s eyes, she was a damn beauty.

Currently, they sat docked at a port on Naboo, commissioned for extra security by some senator or other. No doubt the rest of the crew was either hoarding the lounge or getting themselves deep into the mission details. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and took in the sight that was Theed.

Today, for sure, was a good day for someone else to die.
 
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[fieldbox="Sikka, orange, solid"]
LOCATION: THEED NABOO

Sikka found herself in the market of naboo, she was in full armor except for her helmet that was holstered on her belt. She was looking at whatever they had for food, naboo had a weird selection of fruits, some where sweet, and others were just downright sour. It was her first time on this planet, and it was nice to calm down after the whole fight that had gone down. She did her thing, found a place up high and picked off who she could providing support for her crew. And now the town went back to their normal routine. No time to rest when you need to make money.

She began to walk back towards the docking bay to see what Rhett and the gang were up too. She wished she couldn't had more alone time, because when she's with the old man, he bosses her around too much. Should've just taken him out when I had the chance. She told herself, half joking. She wondered where she would be if it wasn't for him taking her in. She shook of the thought, maybe she would've been better off. The whole crew was weird to her, the dynamic worked somehow though. Even though she didn't agree with the Twi'lek'sway of getting through life, information did give them the upper hand in most situations, so that was reliable, but charming their sources? She found that immature, even for a youngling like her.

Then there was Thea, a tall Brutish type. She preferred to fight upclose, and bare too. Snipe couldn't do that, she enjoyed her comfortable armor, and the ability to take out her enemies with a pull of a trigger. It didn't mean she did not like her crew, she just didn't agree with their methods, they were nice individuals none the less, and they made the crew what it is. If only Rhett could get off her arse about training though. She was a Death Watcher, not a Mandalorian.

~~~~~~~~~~

Snipe was making her way back to the docking site. The crews job was to be extra security or whatever it was, didn't matter, as long as she got paid, and got to shoot at something. The youngling found herself heading in the direction of Rhett who was admiring the ship, it was a nice ship, but she didn't understand his admiration for it, as long as it got the job done, Sikka couldn't care less. "Old man" she called to his attention. "What's next for us?" She asked calmly, stopping to stand next to him.

@Starlighter @Kimberlyn @Dipper
[/fieldbox]​
 
Dennis Celwick

As Dennis Celwick followed along with Arvana he'd agree to go seek out healers once inside, however, before he could do so Arvana would cause him to give off a puzzled face as he listened to her cryptic dialog near the end there and was already walking away after saying he'd probably been through a garbage compactor not once but twice and now this. He waited silently till he was sure Arvana had walked far enough out of sight that she wouldn't hear him. He let out a low sigh but kept up a smirk. "She's a real piece of work alright."

After a little bit of searching around and asking about Dennis received his healing check up putting him back in working condition. The real weight of the funeral which he'd remembered Arvana had mentioned didn't fully hit him till he over heard others discussing it. Primary news being the death of a certain Jedi Master. Shortly afterwards Dennis retrieved his brown Jedi robes much like everyone else and made his way to the funeral pyres that were already well underway although he'd made sure to remove the red kyber crystal from the only non destroyed lightsaber on his person before heading out.

Standing silently way in the back behind most if not all of the other Jedi he watched on as the large flames flickered high and bright with the smoke floating up into the sky. He could sense the various emotions of fellow Jedi much more clearly than he'd ever have before. The current events probably having something to do with that of course as this was a funeral after all but it was still much stronger than he'd expected; overwhelming even. Just then he recalled he hadn't yet caught sight of Master Pha which began to worry him a little. He'd shake his head to wipe those thoughts away. Common Dennis get a grip; no way that's happened.

He looked around aimlessly not having much luck in locating anyone from his group and so he simply stands quietly far in the back by himself and quietly repeats the Jedi Code in his head.

Mentions: @Starlighter @Princess Poisoned Rose /// The group as a whole
 
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[fieldbox="Kana Acula — Jedi Guardian, #396, solid, 10, Trebuchet MS"]
Kana hadn't even noticed Ishua's presence at first, her mind too focused no the burning embers of her master's pyre. But then there were arms around her, holding her close and helping her stand. She was limp in her response, looking down as she rested her head on his chest. She was trembling, the lightsaber still gripped firmly in her right hand. A million possibilities ran through her mind, and the rage she felt was crying to be free.

"It's alright, Kana- I will always be here for you. I promise."

She froze at his words. For several moments, time seemed to stand still. Then, it was like floodgates had burst, tears spilling over no matter her attempts to stop them. Kana's arms suddenly moved to grip her friend, her face buried in his chest as she desperately tried to hide her sorrow. Memories flooded her mind as her shoulders shook with the silent sobs.


Two steps forwards, one step back.

They were in a dance, moving gracefully as the two parried each other's blows. Although one had the advantage of youth, the other had the advantage of experience. Kana, who had been an apprentice under Master Ven Shiti for several years by that time, was determined to beat her experienced counterpart this time. The two had always been in a bit of competition, constantly challanging their skills. Master Shiti always won, but she was getting closer. She had to be. After several minutes of striking and blocking, Kana saw the perfect opening. She smirked, leaping into the air and deactivating her apprentice saber. She landed on a thin rock ledge, her muscles contracting as she prepared to make her final attack.

"Oh dear, you've made a mistake." Her master's voice cut through the cool air like a knife. Kana stared down at him, her mind working to figure out what he meant. It was too late. The ledge crumbled beneath her feet in an instant, sending her sprawling to the forest floor. She swore, having landed facing opposite her master. She turned quickly, only to be met with the edge of her master's blade. He clucked his tongue, mocking her with an infuriating smile. "I win." He stood back then, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

Damnit. She'd lost again. How the hell would she ever hold her own against a Sith if she couldn't even beat this old geezer? She got to her feet, kicking a few rocks in irritation. Master Shiti chuckled. "What did those rocks ever do to you?" He seemed to be having great fun in his teasing, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she ignored him, walking ahead as they headed for the Jedi temple. She'd been on this blasted planet for almost five years now, and she was no closer to killing a Sith with her own strength.

"Kana." She stopped, surprised at the sudden force of Master Shiti's voice. He was looking at her sternly, his brow furrowed seriously. "Do not walk the path of the Dark Side. The Jedi do not exist to kill Sith. We exist to protect others at all costs, even our own lives. You must let the Force guide your decisions, not rage and a thirst for revenge." His reprimand was gentle but firm, and Kana couldn't hold his gaze for long. He was right. He always was. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the anger stirring beneath her conscious. She brought it to the light, dragging it back to its cage deep within her subconscious. When she opened her eyes, a sense of calm washed over her, aided by her brief meditation. Master Shiti nodded in satisfaction.


"Remember the Jedi Code, Kana. Do not stray from it. Do not let anger rule over you."

Kana opened her eyes, suddenly realizing where she was. She pulled back quickly, swiping the tears from her face wordlessly. She looked at Ishua. The gratitude she wanted to express died in her throat, and she found herself pulling away instead. Her trembling had stopped. The rage had faded from her mind, a familiar sense of calm washing over her as the funeral pyres began to die down. She stood stalwart, her expression a perfect mask of serenity and acceptance. She could hear her master's voice, over and over. "Do not let anger rule over you."

I won't, Master. I will never let the Dark Side win. I will not let your teachings die with you.[/fieldbox]Interactions: Ishua Ken (@AceSorcerer)
Mentions: n/a


[fieldbox="Shalia Toyle — Mercenary, #008080, solid, 10, Abel"]
Shalia was one of the many who had taken to the lounge. With alcohol in their system, it took the edge off enough to keep people from losing their minds. Although life in this galaxy was hardly mundane, it could always be a little more exciting. Boredom was a powerful vice, sinking its fangs into victims without a second thought. She could see it in their faces as they continually threw credits on the counter. She smirked, checking herself discreetly as she weeded out the boring from the interesting. The "interesting" had something to tell, and she couldn't wait to find out.

It wasn't hard. A few choice words, a smile, a promise for later. With their minds already inebriated, they were more than a little willing to talk. To her dismay, most of it was rather boring, although she did catch a hint about the appearance of new troops for the Enlightenment. She sighed, terribly disappointed in her lot this evening. She was about to excuse herself from the conversation before the babbling man went on to say that these "new troops" were none other than a batch of leftover clones from the days of the Republic. Shalia perked up instantly, laying all her charms on the man in a bid for more information. All he could say was that some Jedi were leading them. She scowled, irritated at the lack of details from this...whoever this guy was. He looked like some low-level government official; no wonder his information was limited. Heaving a sigh, she downed the rest of her own drink and left the lounge, the man calling after her but too damn drunk to do anything about it.

"Aye, that was so boring! No one knew anything interesting!" Although the idea of a bunch Clones had its own merit, it was hardly worth all the trouble she'd gone through. She would have probably found out about them later, anyways! It's not easy to hide a couple thousand look-a-likes. Frustration rising, she made her way back to the dock, where most of her crew was waiting. They'd been called here to beef up security, but so far nothing terribly exciting had happened. Not that she knew of, anyways. If I knew this job was going to be so mundane, I would have voted against it! Still, it was too late now, especially with their advance pay.


She saw Rhett and Sikka first, but even the sight of her favorite flame-throwing narcissist wasn't enough to lift Shalia's spirits. Taking a breath, she plastered a mischievous expression on her face as she slung an arm around the two of them. "Don't mention the man's age, Sikka! He's terribly sensitive! Fragile ego and all that!" She grinned, hoping to get a reaction out of one or both of them. Both would be a real score. That was Shalia Toyle for you. Charming, flirtatious, and absolutely asinine. At least, that's what she wanted you to think.[/fieldbox]Interactions: Rhett Karyc (@Dipper), Sikka Aujar (@~\The Talentless/~)
Mentions: n/a
 

| H
onour | Loyalty | Justice |

Watching Shalia leave for the lounge, Thea threw an old wooden chance cube. Red to stay behind, blue to follow and make sure she didn't come back minus an important appendage. The cube clacked across the cockpit floor, and Thea frowned. Stay it is. She swiveled the co-pilot's chair and leaned down to scoop up the cube, rising slowly to her feet. Shalia could handle herself just fine; if charm was a weapon, that Twi'lek was deadly.

But still. Even if it was unjustified to worry, Thea usually did when crew members went off alone, without someone standing by to watch their back. Equally aware of her overprotective tendencies and the unlikelihood of the others to appreciate it, it was always up to the cube whether she did anything about it or not. So far, it looked like her fears were invariably unfounded.

Stifling her frown, Thea snatched her datapad from the console and slouched back into the co-pilot's seat. She idly flipped through the details of the mission again, not really seeing it while memory replayed the information in her head. Straightforward enough, with an even more straightforward reward. Simple and profitable, just the way any mercenary should like it. Propping her chin on her fist and leaning on the armrest, she stared into space. There was nothing new here that she needed to commit to memory. My time would be better spent training than sitting here.

Thea stood again and tossed aside the datapad. Time to go find Bok. When she needed a partner to sharpen any area of her skills, there was no one on the crew she would rather go to. Truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure there was anyone else on the crew she was ready to fight, even in the context of sparring. She had been given plenty of observation opportunities during missions, to see their individual styles. But the reading of their communication as opponents was somehow something she doubted they would fully understand.

But, sooner or later, there would come a time for just such a battle to take place with each of them, whether they realized the purpose or not.

@BlueFlameNikku
 
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Bok VS Bev
Meanwhile the Nikto known simply as Bok was now currently down in the cargo hold of the AEG--77 with wrestling with Sikka's pet Nexu, Bev. Early into the playful bout the two had already been banging each into the walls within the cargo hold with Bok laughing full heartily and Bev of course making various low roaring noises as the two had at each other. Anyone in the crew could currently hear the ruckus going on down in the bowels of the vessel.
-----------------
(Presumably what would be seen by those who go to the cargo hold)
-----------------

Bok was suddenly knocked flying past the doorway that would presumably lead into the cargo hold and slide against the floor with a low grunt followed by a laugh as he stands back up to his feet dusting himself off while facing forwards towards the slowly approaching nexu. By this time there were already quills from Bev not only scattered around the room but a dozen or so were also sticking out of Bok, thankfully his thick leather like reptilian skin made it so the quills stuck in him didn't really hurt much and were more of a vague annoyance. As Bev slowly crouches down low, getting ready to pounce as its tail wags back and forth with a toothy grin Bok just smiles back and claps his hands together a few times in a funny way and laughs again, clearly enjoying himself. "Kahahaha! Good one Bev. But now my turn. Bok happily shouts as he runs towards Bev with long strides. The Nexu wiggles slightly before pouncing straight for Bok but the Nikto not only ducks underneath the pounce but also wraps his large muscular arms around the underside belly of the feline creature and holds up the nearly double his own size creature on his shoulder. Not liking this the Nexu aimlessly claws at the air like a pet that hates to be lifted off the ground trying to grab for some footing. "Special move! Bok Super Slam!!!" Bok shouts happily as he leans down and forwards slamming Bev down into the floor. The impact rocks the room just a little bit as the Nexu lets out a grunt of discomfort and seems to just lay on it's back, belly side up and panting all exhausted like. Laying next to the creature would be Bok doing much the same with a smile on his face. "Hehehe, Bev is good." Bok says as he leans over to give the nexu some much deserved belly rubs.
@The Merc Crew
 
Rhett reined in his temper with a deep breath. These two may be integral gears in the machine that was his crew, he wouldn't deny that, but that didn't stop them from rubbing him the wrong way every so often. The lot of them were lucky he cared so much, in his own way.

“My fragile ego can handle the girl’s comments, Shalia." He huffed and shrugged the Twi'lek's arm off his shoulder. "I've heard worse."

Such... compliments... from the kid were to be expected. He'd learned not to let them get to him as they should. And while Sikka was not his, would perhaps never allow such a thing, the affectionate term came easily to him. "Show respect, ad'ika," he said dryly. Whatever her Death Watch father had taught her had done very little to reign in her attitude. Her fierce resistance to everything he tried to teach her only made it worse.

While the mission was simple enough, he'd hoped Sikka would have been paying attention on the way to Naboo. Rhett pulled up the mission specs on his HUD. "One of Theed's senators commissioned us for security duty-- twenty thousand up front, twenty thousand when the job is done.”

The man had spoken like a cookie-cutter suit, big words in a mid-rim accent that scraped Rhett’s nerves at just the right angle to set him on edge. He’d made sure the man knew that their price was steep, and with each thousand he added to their pay, the senator added two thousand more. The man must’ve been desperate.

Dai'rhett would not complain. The Mirshko's poor, battered insides could use a good cleaning and de-quiliing, and Rhett's own cabin was looking rather sparse where it came to decoration.

“Saw a ship earlier. Enlightenment.” That meant Jedi, which meant an over-saturation of the Force. That pervasive tingling never sat right with him. If the Mand’alor trusted them, however… he, begrudgingly, would too. “You were out earlier,” he said, his attention now focused on Shalia. “Did you find--”

There was a crash, and the ship shuddered. The damn beast, no doubt, playing with their resident muscle. Both of them were big enough to leave gouges in his ship's innards. His poor Mirshko. Rhett muttered a long string of curses under his breath before whirling on his heel, hands curled into fists. No, he wasn't angry with Bok. The nikto wasn't capable of anything deserving of Rhett's wrath. He was angry that an even larger sum of their credits would have to go toward repairs.

Maybe he'd break out that brandy before the he suffered their commissioner's prattling. He wouldn't last very long other wise.

Rhett glanced over his shoulder. "Would you mind taking Sikka into the city to keep an eye on those Jedi, Shalia? I need to... do some things."

@BlueFlameNikku @Kimberlyn @~\The Talentless/~
 
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[fieldbox=Ishua Ken, green, solid, 8, book antiqua]
Soon pulling out his loaned communicator, the Jedi General speaking aloud.

"This is General Ken. All inactive Sojourn personnel, return to the landing bay so that we can shuttle up and head back spaceside. All current clone patrols will remain until relieved to return. All newly assigned Mandalorians and other Enlightenment personnel will join as well and be given a brief by Major Strafe and Master Sergeant Deadbolt before being given housing assignments. All other personnel, continue standard protocol. Ken out."

Soon enough, with his whirring astromech droid companion as well as his somber fellow Jedi, the Jedi Master entered a shuttle with a group of clones, Thrice having gone on the shuttle before them to get the crew in order. As soon as he had returned to the ship, he walked the crestfallen Kana to her room, the Jedi Knight sharing a common room with the Jedi Master and a few others. With a sigh and a pop of the neck, the Jedi Master gave her a warm hug before she went on her way into her own quarters. Meanwhile, seeing the clone commander at the table, the Jedi Master set down, sighing as he looked at the unarmored clone.

"Still got the whiskey?"
[/fieldbox]
 
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Thrice

The fabric of his fatigues was scratchy, thin, and no good protection against blaster bolts. This was time meant to be spent relaxing, not issuing orders-- time that didn't involve plastoid armor and a pair of blaster pistols. Clones didn't get much in the way
of recreation, so when they did, they weren't sure what to do with it. Or, what 'recreation' really meant. Thrice just assumed it meant drinking and not fighting.

Which was good enough for him.

Thrice tugged on his collar, grimaced, and made his way through the ship, meeting the concerned of his men with a stern glare. 'Who'd could coerce you to wear that, sir?' 'Whose bad side didya get on this time, Commander?'. Clones had no sense of fashion, yet still they gossiped as if they knew.

There it was, the ship's rec room. The General had arrived early, it seems.

Thrice lifted the bottle as he approached so the General could see it, lips tilting into a crooked smirk. “Of course, sir.” He set the bottle down on the table and pulled up a stool for himself. “You, uh, want to do the honors?”

---

Dai'rhett Karyc

Not once in Dai’rhett Karyc’s decade long career has he ever sought out work. The work always came to him, bearing a respectable sum of credits to catch his interest and a curt, to-the-point job description. Whether he replied to the request depended on the crew, but he always kept a backog of jobs with more elastic timeframes so they could pick and choose freely when two jobs overlapped.

This job had caught his interest straightaway. It came in the form of a short voice message directly into his helmet, a ping he picked up thinking was an update on the starmap he’d requested some time ago. Instead, it pertained to the Jedi. In particular, the Enlightenment.

It was a well known fact that the Mand’alor, and thus Mandalore itself, had close ties to the Enlightenment. The force was a pervasive, alien thing, but he’d been raised to at least look kindly upon the Jedi. And Rhett, tried-and-true mandalorian that he was, respected his leader’s judgement.

The sum of credits offered for the aid of his crew was only a nice bonus. They were going to love this.

Rhett activated his comm. so that it’d broadcast to the whole crew. “Vacation’s over, kiddies. We just got ourselves a new commission.” With that, he bound up the boarding ramp with a noticeable spring to his step.

The deck that made up the living quarters split off into several conjoining corridors. From the lift were several rooms, their doors decorated in varying ways with varying colors and personal touches. His own quarters lay at the end of this particular hall, just off the ship’s personal lounge. Its door jammed often where paint had seeped onto the track. A simple phrase had been scrawled neatly in blue.

That reminded him. Getting the crew to keep the ship clean would be a worthwhile, and necessary, hassle. Damn bastards were too content in their own mess.

Now. Where was he? Oh, right. Counting credits in the comfort of his own room. What a marvelous reward for his patience.
 

| H
onour | Loyalty | Justice |

If her best guess based on previous encounters hadn't been enough to tell Thea where she would find Bok, the sound of growling and banging coming from the cargo hold was confirmation enough. She often worried that it wasn't the wisest for Bok to be messing around with Sikka's Nexu in such a cavalier way, but unless it got out of hand in a way that seriously affected the crew, she had decided against sticking her nose too far into it.

Her comm went off just as she reached the hold, and she lounged against the doorframe with her back to Bok and Bev so that she could actually hear what Dai'rhett was saying. Already? And we just got here. Aww..... So much for sparring I guess. Oh well. If he was pulling them out this fast, it had to be something good. Thea pushed away from the wall, switching on her comm. "Roger that."

She turned and stepped carefully into the cargo hold, letting her hands hang loose at her sides and ready to make a move if she had to in order to get the two play fighters away from each other. She kept well back, doing her best to stay out of the danger zone in case they started up again. She wouldn't be in any real danger if they did of course, but experience in this line of work made her cautious. Even a minor accidental injury could turn into a complication out there.

"Bok" she said, raising her voice to get his attention. She jerked her head in the direction of the doorway, a lighthearted smirk on her face. "We got places to be, things to do, yes? She would have much rather stopped to trade a few friendly punches, but ultimately, the missions had to come first.

@BlueFlameNikku @Dipper @Kimberlyn @Joan @The Talentless
 
[fieldbox=Ishua Ken, green, solid, 8, book antiqua]
The Jedi Master popped his neck as he sat in their common room, the entrances to Thrice's room as well as Ishua's nearby. Using the Force to set two glasses from the nearby counter onto the table, the Jedi then unscrewed the cap, added some ice, and toasted to the world. It had been a long day for everyone, and even then the Jedi Master still had to deal with the Sith who had turned herself in as well as battle reports with Galactic Command the next day. The galaxy had just vastly increased in its complexity, and even then two clones on patrol had been killed, one of them barely survived since the blaster bolt skimmed his head and left a large burn scar on the side of his head. A unique hunter-killer droid was on the loose, and the ship had activated its anti-droid defense protocols as all the clones made their way shipside as the Naboo Defense Force and the Mandalorians had taken over the patrols.

"We examined Caretaker's memory- it looks like we may very well be tasked with finding other cryofrozen clones. According to some of the encrypted data in his memory core, it looks like there may be as many as ten thousand other clones waiting to be awoken. Other than that... today was close. If nothing else, it made a point- I need some armor. Do you think we have any left over in storage?"[/fieldbox]
 
Bok
Just as Bok was standing up from the floor having finished his little wrestling match with Bev he received the transmission over his ear piece and smiled. Sure off time was fun but jobs meant money and money was a good thing to have. The big guy looks over his shoulder at the sound of Dashthea's voice calling his name as he instinctively responds with..."Bok didn't do it." Then quickly realizing that it wasn't about him re upholds himself with his goofy smile. "Yes. Heard from boss. Dash always step ahead." Bok walks up next to Dashthea with Bev in tow ready to follow along to where ever they need to go.

Denis
Back on The Sojourn, Padawan Denis Celwick sits in the middle of his room which was to his pleased amusement was room number 1 in the officers quarter. He sat on the table in his usual meditative position with the lightsaber of the Sith he defeated laying horizontal just in front of him. The Jedi could feel the dark side imbued crystals within the weapon as made contact with the force much more easily. The lightsaber handle slowly levitates up just above the table in front of him, his eyes closed in concentration.

Unable to locate his master for the time being but hearing about that she was fine from other crew members made Denis come to the decision to try and fix his newest problem on his own. He's overcome the gate that blocked him from the connection the force has had with him but he'd used the wrong key, a dark key filled with anger and so this must be overcome.

The young man repeats the Jedi code over and over in his head till without knowing it he starts to softly chant it aloud to himself within his room.

"Jedi are the guardians of peace in the galaxy."
"Jedi use their powers to defend and to protect."
"Jedi respect all life, in any form."
"Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy."
"Jedi seek to improve themselves through knowledge and training."

Quietly ending his chant as he opens his eyes with...

"All life is precious and worth protecting." "Just like my family back on Cala."

He slowly extends out his hand towards the floating saber handle as he slowly and methodically takes it apart piece by piece using the force till only the floating red kyber crystal remained, the rest of the parts gentle placed about the top of the table. Denis addresses the crystal as if addressing the Sith himself.

"I thank you for teaching me this lesson, I may not know your name but I will not forget you."

After bowing his head slightly he deposits the red kyber crystal in a small pouch on his person to serve as a constant reminder of this lesson as well as deciding the use the base saber the Sith wielded for his first true lightsaber. All that would be left was to insert a more proper kyber crystal for his position.
 
Dai'rhett Karyc

First was Sikka. Important to him in a manner only he understood. Rhett appreciated the girl’s obstinate demeanor, despite her tendency to shrug off his attempts at teaching her. She was a born sharpshooter, and Rhett would never be able to curb his desire to see her improve further.

Bok, the overgrown child Rhett would traverse the galaxy several times over for. The strongest among them with a knack for making Rhett laugh when he shouldn't, and special to him because of it. The Nikto was like a little brother to him, and Rhett treated him as such.

Dashthea - affectionately nicknamed Dash by their resident muscle - still eluded him. Rhett was unfamiliar with the Echani, but if they had taught her to fight as well as she did, then there was no one in the galaxy that he'd commend more. If only she'd teach him her technique.

And then there was Shalia. Wily, extraordinarily clever. Immensely irritating in her own, rather endearing way. There was no one better at obtaining information than Shalia. Unorthodox she may be, but reliable, and if he could stop acting so protective regarding the twi'lek, she'd perform even better.

This was his crew. Not family in the Mandalorian sense, but close, and important. It was easy to split the profits of their work evenly among each other and very rarely did any scuffle break out over one missed credit. A respect born of trust and years at one another's backs, he supposed.

Speaking of the crew and their cuts...

Luxury items were first on the list if he ever got around to making one. Specifically, a new blaster so he could stop mourning his old one, the little pocket one he kept at his thigh. No one else would consider a blaster a luxury item, but for a man like Rhett, guns were about as luxurious as he could get.

He tapped into his comm. once more to address the crew.

“The So-something.” He paused. Read it again. “Sojourn. That’s where the Jedi are. Meet me in the city center.”

Rhett scrolled through Theed’s ship log. Various ships, luxury yachts and transports, had docked in the city. One stood out among them; an older military vessel, almost as old as his own, that closely resembled the images he’d seen of ancient Empire cruisers. He wondered briefly what the Enlightenment would be doing with such a cruiser.

He was not envious, not at all. He simply wish to strip it for parts. State of the art parts that would otherwise cost thousands.

Yes, that was it.

Thrice

Thrice nearly inhaled his whiskey at the news. He pounded his fist into his chest. "Ten thousand, sir?"

Oh, he'd known. His count was off, and a handful of the 343rd's commanders were missing. He should have brought it up with the General, but he'd wondered whether it was just his memory playing tricks on him. While stasis was certainly easier on his body than anyone else's, it still tended to set his brain to a sustained spin in his skull that didn't stop until he'd had a good night's rest.

"I..." Thrice frowned. He glared into the amber of the whiskey. "Ten thousand. It would bolster our numbers significantly, I'd think. If that's where my commanders are, then checking to see if the droid's memory was right would be a good idea."

With that, Thrice downed his glass in one go and slammed it down on the table. He broke into a grin at that-- it's something he'd wanted to do for some time, but in the presence of his troopers, it wasn't exactly proper etiquette.

"Plenty, General. Do you want me to request an inventory check?"
 
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[fieldbox=Ishua Ken, green, solid, 8, book antiqua]
"I don't think they're 343rd, though. There are some transmissions before the end of the Old Republic, but I believe that a good amount of the soldiers may very well be Phase II Troopers, not necessarily Phase I Troopers like your own, especially due to the fact that most of the transmissions are dated near the end of the Clone Wars. Even then, they have better armor. Unlike your armor and the armor of most Sith Troopers and some of the recycled Stormtrooper armor, which are primarily designed to lessen impacts from plasma bolts, their armor also has decent protection against the average vibroblade. After all, the end of the Clone Wars saw a lot more guerilla warfare and close-quarters combat, and the guy with a vibrosword has a better chance in close-quarters than the guy with a blaster. Of course, it doesn't matter either way if one of 'em has a lightsaber."

The Jedi General chuckled softly, gulping down his glass and pouring himself some more and speaking up, his lightsaber moving into his hands as he spun it in his palm, eventually setting it down next to where he rested

"Besides, I don't want to have an inventory count- I'd like to requisition a set for myself. Given how this battle went, it'd be a lot smarter for me to start wearing armor. The Force may be extremely powerful, but having some good old-fashioned armor may be helpful. The same goes for the other Jedi, save for Kuno, who I'm certain has already begun to dissect and craft into his own set given the fact he's already requisitioned a bunch of components outside of starfighter parts."
[/fieldbox]
 
[fieldbox="Kuno Delrah, gold, solid"]
The ship was busy, the sojourn was being boarded again with both new and old faces. It felt nice to see everything getting back into order, it was almost like things were about to change for the Jedi, for the good guys. Kuno could definitely the change in the air, made him feel better especially after the funeral. Kuno Had decided to order a requisition of new material, so for the meantime, he had a crew of engineers start the process of turning the TIE interceptor into a work of art, at least get it ready for new equipment. “Hey! Easy there, let's not mess this up now, we haven't even gotten the new parts yet” Kuno barked at the troops, he sighed “Amateurs” He said under his breathe. The jedi turned to Arvana who was by his side, “I’m gonna go see if everything is running okay in the generator room, don’t want the sojourn having any issues while taking off. I trust that you can keep an eye on the job , once we’re all set and we get the shipment on our ship, and then i can get this beast in the air, and then train you in the pilot seat.” Kuno said with a smile “I’ll be quick” He finished before walking away and making his way to the inner parts of the ship. But before he could even get through the exit door, he was interrupted by a clone. “Sir! The sword is all set, had the engineers fix the vibrogenerator, specifically to your request” the trooper held out a sword that was sheathed. Kuno grabbed the blade and slung it over his shoulder and had the strap across his chest. “Good man” he said with a nod before continuing on. A vibro sword he has kept to himself, the generator in it was dead for a while. And he had recently decided to get it repaired after seeing the new troops with their fancy armors, like the cortosis weave that was very resistant to lightsaber attacks. This sword also had a focused vibro cell to make sure those heavy troops wouldn't best him. Only downside to the weapon was its weight, sure Kuno wasn't weak, but he was very used to the fact that the sabers weighed next to nothing. Nothing the force couldn't help with.

On the way to the power room, something didn’t feel right, one, things were all too quiet, and two, no one was in sight. First Kuno looked around observing his surroundings, something was telling him to be cautious. He noted that the security systems on this floor were deactivated, which was strange giving the fact they were recently turned on. His hands started to itch closer and closer to his saber as he turned the corner to go into the ship's core room, only to see a very tall figure behind the console. “Um...you’re not supposed to be here” Kuno stated. The figure didn’t move much and kept working on the console.

Oh, sorry, just trying to get a better understanding of the ship’s internal systems” The machine spoke, his head turning around to face Kuno, but still was typing away on the screen.

Oh what the hell” The jedi replied with drawing his saber and launching himself at the Robot, and before the man could even react, the machine raised his forearm and blocked the saber strike, the saber instantly powered down, and with his other arm the machine grabbed The Jedi by the throat, picked him up and threw him across the room.

Kuno landed on his side with a grunt before he rolled onto his feet. “Cortosis forearm plating smart” he holstered his saber and reached over his shoulder and unsheathed the long sword. “Didn't think I would have to use this so soon” Kuno said standing up and holding the sword with both hands on the handle, the weight of the blade made him feel powerful almost, Brutish even.

Hmmm, first Jedi I've seen use a vibro weapon” nixus then pulled out his knives, and pressed the buttons on the handles, electricity pulsated through the blades

Kuno took a long hard look at this droid, it was way too high tech to be from a smuggler, it had to be Sith affiliated “You know, for a droid you're pretty intelligent, more so than others, lemme guess, the Sith made you?” Kuno asked raising a brow. “I swear, the Sith get all the cool stuff” he shook his head “so that means, you're here to get some info on the ship so you guys have the upper hand?

Nixus scoffed. “I'm no droid...Jedi, and the Sith confederation is no more than a mere customer to me” the machine got into a defensive position. “And I guess you can say that, it's quite….nice here” the droid then leaped over forward in the jedi’s position. Kuno responded by using force push to get him back, but Nixus activated his thrusters catching The Jedi off guard, and then delivered one hell of a punch to his chest knocking the wind out of Kuno, causing him to stumble back a bit. Nixus then brought his arm down, trying to stab Kuno who luckily moved out of the way just in time to bring his sword up and cut off the robots right forearm arm. Then the now wheezing Jedi used the force to push him back, this time using more power behind it.

Kuno fell to one knee trying to regain his breathing, but still kept one eye on the robot. Bot skid on his feet across the room and stopped, he looked at his arm. Then back at the Jedi “I hope you know you're going to pay for that” the droid then holstered his knife, and pulled off his mangled arm and threw it to the side and charged once again at Kuno. The Jedi tried his best to lift his sword to block the attack, but nixus extended his arm and a grapple grabbed onto the sword and pulled it away from Kuno and flung it across the room, and before he knew it, the Jedi took a metallic knee to the face and was falling back, but that's when nixus grabbed a fist full of his hair and pulled him back causing him to wince in pain. Getting ready to deliver another knee to the face, but the Jedi used his force lightning to shock the droid causing the machine to freeze and let go of Kuno.

The droid fell onto its back with a slam, the lights on his eyes began to fade. Kuno used the force to pull his vibro sword to his hand and stood next to the droids body, and raised the weapon above his head. And just as he was about to execute the droid, nixus in one quick movement, equipped his knife and stabbed kuno in the right leg and electrocuted him. Kuno screamed in pain, but bared through it just enough to deliver the killing blow with the sword, cutting the machine right down its center piece killing it for good.

Kuno fell to his knees then onto his side, out of breath, he pulled the knife out of his leg and threw it across the room. His nose bleeding, busted lip, and bruised face. He slowly brought his hand to his ear. “Someone, anyone...please get down the powercore room with a medical droid or something… and a shot of the strongest alcohol we have...I'm not doing so hot” he spoke on the comms with a weakened but yet still still in a joking mood. He just laid there silently waiting for help. “Take that...you stupid tin can…” he spoke between his heavy pants.
@Joan @AceSorcerer @Starlighter [/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="Sikka, orange, solid"]
Wait...so we're helping the Jedi now?” Sikka asked over comms. “Yay I can't wait to work with overly optimistic magicians” the death watcher remarked. She then turned to shalia and shrugged “guess that means we get to see some actual action, like sith…” the last words left Sikka with a bit of distaste. She then put her helmet on, and activated her jet pack "see you at the drop point” she said and then flew off. It was rare that she got to use her jet pack, so when she could, she took advantage of it.

Sikka landed in the middle of the town like Rhett had asked...but she was the first on there. Guess that's what she gets for being impatient.
@Kimberlyn @Dipper [/fieldbox]
 

| H
onour | Loyalty | Justice |

Thea couldn’t help a slight smile at Bok’s automatic response to her presence. She had been tempted on many an occasion to pretend that he was actually in trouble for something, or to sneak up and scare him - but at the same time, she didn’t feel that doing something like that would really serve the morale of the crew in any way. Bok wasn’t someone she could see herself taking any kind of advantage over even in jest - if anything, more likely the opposite.

Striding back toward the door, she said, “C’mon; we should go meet up with -” she was cut off by another transmission from Dai’rhett, and stopped in her tracks. “No, nevermind; faster way.” She spun on her heel and crossed the cargo hold to where a speeder was anchored. “See you there, Rhett.”

She gestured for Bok to follow her lead, and climbed aboard. Knowing he would keep up alright without her hovering over his every move, she fired up the engine and blasted out of the cargo hold at nearly full throttle. Thea hadn’t used speeders much before she left home, and especially not at such reckless speeds as she did now. But enough practice had given her the experience to know what she was doing. It wasn’t like this was pod racing, after all.

The streets of the city rushed by in a steady blurr of mixing colours. Thea kept her focus ahead, reacting to obstacles and turns slightly before it seemed like she would reach them. The same basic rules applied to flying, and all it took was practice, and focus. But sometimes she caught herself wishing that she had the kind of intuition that would guide her reflexes without even so much as a thought. And then she would remember that the easy way was rarely the rewarding one.

Thea screeched to a halt beside Sikka, and tossed a warm smile over at the girl along with a nod, but said nothing.


[fieldbox="Arvana Tarron, darkred, solid"]Arvana followed Kuno as he moved about, directing the engineers working on getting the parts he had requested in place as they started work on the TIE. She turned away from them when he addressed her, and nodded slowly. She lifted slightly on the balls of her feet, wearing an almost smile.

”Yessir. Everything will be shipshape when you get back, Kuno. Just you watch, we’ll be done before you can even get down there.” She winked, and as he left spun lightly on her heel to face the engineers again. She hadn’t been this excited about something in a very, very long time. And especially after everything they had just been through down on the planet, it felt good.

Even if she was exhausted. Long meetings, Sith battles, and funerals would do that, she supposed.

With a spring in her stride, Arvana moved to help an engineer who was struggling with a large, awkwardly shaped crate. She was tempted to just use the force and lift it to wherever he wanted it, but instead she grabbed a handle and just helped him carry it. He gave her a grateful nod, and she returned it with a smile.

Arvana continued to supervise the engineers by pitching in whenever they could use a spare hand with something, but it still seemed like everything was taking forever even though she was busy. She paused and took a few steps back, looking at the TIE with her hands on her hips. Where’s Kuno? He should have been back by now, I think….

As if to punctuate her thoughts, she heard his voice over the comms. And she didn’t need him to say it to know that he wasn’t alright. She shouted instructions over her shoulder at the engineers, but wasn’t entirely sure what she was saying. She bounded for the door and made a b-line for the medbay. After storming inside and storming back out again with a med droid in tow, she bounded through the passages of the ship for the nearest rec area.

When she burst in, there were a few enlightenment soldiers sitting at a table talking and - she barely hesitated to notice - drinking. Oh. That’s well timed. She didn’t think twice, but hopped up onto the table, snatched the bottle, jumped down, and raced out the door. “Sorry, need to borrow this a minute” she called back. The droid whirred after her, almost sounding somewhat apologetic.

Arvana didn’t pay too terribly much attention to the people that she passed in her mad dash. When she cleared the door to the generator room, the first thing she saw was Kuno lying on his side. She ignored the med droid as it buzzed over to him and started working, striding up and dropping to one knee beside her master.

“You look lazy lounging like that” she quipped, thrusting the bottle of whiskey that she had pinched from Ishua and the Clone Commander at his face. “Drink up.” After a brief survey of Kuno’s injuries and a hasty decision that he wasn’t about to kick the bucket like a spoiled child, she relaxed enough to study the room and try to gauge what had happened. A lump of metal that looked like a rather large droid model that she wasn’t familiar with seemed to be the only remotely threatening thing that she could see. She nodded her head toward it.

“What’s that over there? And what happened, anyway?”
[/fieldbox]

@~\The Talentless/~
 
Bok

Bok joyful jumps onto the back of the speeder piloted by Dashthea after he had quickly picked up his vibro axe and strapped it onto his back with a thick leather strap. For most of the high speed travel the big guy joyfully yelled out loud whenever they had a long stretch of ground to cover as they picked up speed or whenever they took a quick turn; to him it was like being on a roller coaster for fun.

Once they reached the city center and stopped next to Sikka, Bok hops off the speeder as he gives a goofy smile towards Sikka alongside a way. "Hiiii Sikk. You hear? We gonna work for people with the glowing swords. Not the red ones though. Sikk always say red ones are bad." At the end of his words Bok's expression seems to give off the impression that he's confirming that what he remembers is correct toward Sikka.

Denis
With no current kyber crystal to use as his own Denis Celwick simply stored the lightsaber parts away for later use for the time being and began his usual exercise routine considering nothing much came to mind for him to do currently. So he began doing push ups after removing his top layer of clothing so as to not get them sweaty during his workout.
 
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Thrice

"You're right about that, sir."

What experience Thrice had with the Jedi was limited. It was all mysticism and philosophy Thrice could never hope, nor try, to understand. Still, it never stopped him from wondering what was going on inside their heads whenever they'd made the decision to go to war with no armor. Just... cloaks, thin cloth that wouldn't protect you from a cool breeze, much less a blaster bolt to the chest. It puzzled him.

Thrice rubbed the back of his neck to relieve a tense knot. "Well... I'm sure we can find the resources to get you outfitted." He grinned. "'Sides, the men would love to scrounge up some upgrades, if you're lookin' to personalize."

If there was an entire battalion just waiting to be found, somewhere out there, then they'd be having some serious organization issues to deal with. Thrice wasn't looking forward to it.

Dai'rhett

A Mandalorian took pride in his ability to fight. Winning was optional as long as the fight was honorable. Bodyguard duty closed the door of opportunity, so to speak; an assassin had no interest in honorable combat, nor would they be willing to indulge a man like Rhett. His crew didn’t care for the same honor he did, but even they could be rendered brain-dead from the boredom. The credits were never worth it.

He hadn't the need to think it over. Not only would he and the crew be set for a good standard few months, but they'd be entertained while earning them.

Rhett left the docking platform and made his way into Theed’s center. Colorful banners and merchant stands made a semi-circle around the main plaza, staffed and visited by a diverse assortment of peoples. Children skittered from merchant to merchant with trinkets between their fingers while their parents either looked on, or were absent entirely. They, perhaps, were a part of the coalition gathering at the docks to meet the Jedi. He wondered; did politicians leave their children often? Were these children, as recklessly energetic as they appeared, capable of caring for themselves?

Leaving a helpless child was unfathomable to Rhett and his... 'sensibilities'. Children ought to be trained properly before their parents abandoned them to pursue political glory.

Pondering the peculiar mindsets of Naboo politicians wouldn't do him any good. With a gruff sigh, he shoved that thought out of his mind and stopped at the city center where the crowd was thinnest. Here he waited for his crew to arrive.

He walked toward Sikka when he spotted her, throwing an arm over her shoulders in a humorous, affectionate fashion.
“You don’t like jetii?” Rhett asked. His lips quirked in a smile. “Too bad. Credits are credits and bodyguard duty isn’t anybody’s favorite.”

There were the others, with the rest trickling in one by one not far out. He released Sikka from his hold before approaching them. An explanation was in order.

Rhett opened his arms as if he were preparing to take them all into a hug. He didn't. Instead, he turned to face the massive ship hanging overhead. "Figured you'd all like something new. No more guard duty and no more chatting up senators. What do you think?"
 
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