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Post by Rik Vane on Feb 6, 2016 23:55:20 GMT -8
"Hm?" Rik looked up from the datapad in front of him and swallowed the bite of energy pudding he'd been chewing on. "Ooh, I like it." One might assume he was referring to the sheer dress and its plunging neckline, but as of yet his eyes hadn't wandered below her neck. When they did, however, he let out a low whistle. "That dress is pretty great too. Going somewhere fancy?"
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Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 7, 2016 0:45:02 GMT -8
Vyra met his gaze with a soft smile and sharp twinkle in her eye. "I'd have worn my potato sack ensemble, but I left it at home." She moved to stand behind the seat next to him, looking down at herself for a moment. The light green fabric shimmered under the light. "Honestly, it's the least extravagant thing I brought with me, and I wanted to be comfortable. I don't get that chance often."
She scanned the table in front of her, eyes resting on his energy pudding. Vyra folded her hands in front of her. "Can I help with something food related?"
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Post by Rik Vane on Feb 7, 2016 21:37:41 GMT -8
He looked down at his energy pudding, then back at her as his face became a mask of mock offense. "What, you don't like energy pudding?" Oh please, that stuff tastes only slightly better than bantha dung. I'm going to make you promise to never tell me how you know that. He took another bite, then nodded as though confirming the assertion she'd never made. "You may have a point. all the food we've got is in there." He gestured toward the open doorway to the kitchen. "I'm not sure what someone like you can manage to do in a kitchen, but you're free to give it a shot."
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Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 11, 2016 21:15:33 GMT -8
‘Someone like you’? Vyra wasn’t sure if she should be amused or mildly insulted (she settled for an even mixture of both). Not that she blamed him his perceptions. After all, she didn’t quite look like she belonged in a kitchen.
The only sign of reaction was a cordial smile, though her expression flattened a little. “Yes, kitchens are very mysterious. If I need a jar opened or can’t work the sink, I’ll call out,” she jabbed smoothly as she glided away and into the kitchen.
It didn’t take her long to find the food, if it could be called that. Good thing she’d remembered to bring her spice jars. Placing them on the counter, Vyra retrieved a few bowls and plates from the shelves, washed them as thoroughly as she could, and set about gathering edibles. There were instant noodles, a handful of dried fruits and meats, some stale crackers, a powder for polystarch bread, and plenty of protein supplements and rations. She stared at the collection for a moment, thinking.
Ten minutes later, everything was set.
She made two trips, serving Rik a bowl and a plate first before retrieving her own. With her added spices, a little work, and some creativity, the consort had transformed the dull food. The bowl was full of noodles in a thin, fiery orange broth, and from it rose a spicy steam. The meat had been soaked in a sweet, tangy mixture until it was soft and distributed in the noodle soup. The tasteless protein cubes and supplements had been melted down and added to everything for nutritional value. After softening a few of the more palatable ration bars, she’d mixed some of the dried fruit into the paste and added a bit of flavored oil and sweetener before cutting the blue polystarch bread in half and spreading it over the halves like a butter. The rest was set artfully on the plate with the crackers, which had been toasted and spread with the same sweet butter as the bread.
Vyra sat gracefully, stirring her soup slowly as she took a bite of the polystarch, and began conversation in a light, friendly tone. “So, Captain. Tell me about yourself!” She watched him attentively. “Living as you do, you must have some stories. How did you get where you are today?”
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Post by Rik Vane on Feb 11, 2016 21:53:28 GMT -8
"Where the kriff did this come from?" His voice spoke of amazement even more than his words, and the smell alone was enough to make his stomach tighten with hunger. He downed a spoonful even before it had sufficiently cooled, and hadn't fully swallowed before speaking again. "I mean, Kriff. This is amazing." Infinitely better than those protein bars and powdered shakes you insist on gulping down like it's going out of style. He'd had a couple more spoonfuls by the time she got back with her own, and he'd completely forgotten that he was supposed to be snarky and acerbic. "How'd I get here? Well... I sat down in the pilot's chair, fired up the Mynock, and just kinda felt my way through it. Then BAM! Hit the hyperspace button and here we are." Ok, so ALMOST forgot he was supposed to be snarky.
"Seriously though, it's... Complicated. Grew up in the Pacanth reach, joined the navy when I was old enough. Flight mechanic. Got out as soon as my tour was up though." He paused for another couple bites as he thought back, something he hadn't done in a very long time. "Didn't much like being told how to live my life. 'Course, that didn't exactly change right after either. Ended up signing on with a private unit for a while. The pay was great, and I got to build whatever I wanted. I still had to leave after a while, though." His face took on a quality not entirely dissimilar to a mix between sadness and anger, if only for a moment. "Difference of opinion."
He set the bowl on the short table and leaned back after that, hands rubbing back and forth atop his knees as his mood became decidedly more dour. "Then after that I bought the Mynock and became an independent freight captain. Been doing that ever since, along with the odd job every now and then." Taking a moment to recompose himself, he flashed her a quick smile that never touched his eyes. "What about you? You know how to cook, so you're not a state official or the average sort of wealthy aristocrat. What's your story?" He was fully aware that whatever version she told him would likely be just as abbreviated and sparse with details as what he'd told her, but she'd made an effort to start a conversation AND she could cook, so he wasn't going to be the one to drop the topic.
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Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 12, 2016 21:04:16 GMT -8
She had four different ‘rehearsed’ answers to that common question, all very simple and polite, as casual dinner conversation with a stranger should be. There were others, of course, that would paint her in an intriguing, mysterious light, leaving her audience wanting. There was the coy, flirty option, and a myriad of possibilities as far as body language and voice tone went.
Then, there was the truth. And when it came to her ‘story’, she hadn’t told the truth in a very, very long time.
Vyra finished chewing, patting her lips delicately with her napkin. She’d caught the shift in his expressions and noted the guarded gloss over his words. He’d managed to gather the basics of his life in a nutshell and share it with her, and it was only proper she did the same. But she couldn’t bring herself to spit out something practiced and fine-tuned. So Vyra deviated, just a little. “Naboo is my home, but I’ve spent most of my life on Coruscant studying politics.” She met his eyes, her tone light, and smiled a little. “For years, I worked as a senator for the Galactic Republic, but I can’t claim any major accomplishments in my time there.” She lowered her gaze, sawing at a cracker a bit too hard. “Too much…corruption. So I married my Jedi protector, bore him a child, and spent three months pretending I knew how to be a mother.”
The cracker broke, knife hitting the plate with a sharp clink. Vyra stared at it for a moment, expression an empty sort of tranquil, swallowing the urge to stop her words and revert to her prepared stories. Finally, she looked at Rik, and with a blink she’d returned to her resting cordial state, voice as calm as if she were discussing the weather. “He divorced me shortly after on charges of infidelity, which I was not given a chance to address, and I’ve not seen him or the child since. Strangely, it was possibly the best thing that could have happened to me. I was not suited for motherhood, or marriage.” The brunette nibbled on the cracker. “So, I spent the next few years doing…well. It’s a very long story. I even tried to return to the Senate. But eventually, I found a way to put my skills, my knowledge to use.”
Vyra watched his face carefully, her dark eyes curious. “I suppose I’m not surprised you haven’t guessed what it is I do. The Hetaira Union is still very new, and very few of us have left our guilds yet. The ones that have rarely leave the Core. Companions are still a foreign concept to many.”
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Post by Rik Vane on Feb 13, 2016 21:16:22 GMT -8
"From galactic senator to fancy call girl, huh?" He mulled over that for a moment, then shrugged. "Bit of a step up, isn't it?" He'd heard the term used before, knew that there were schools or something for men and women to learn how to please other sentients. Personally, he had no liking for the idea. If someone wanted to please another person, more power to 'em. He just figured it should be genuine, not something you were taught how to do and did because you were getting paid. As for politicians... well. That was a story unto itself. "So did they teach you how to cook in whore academy, or did you pick that up somewhere else?"
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Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 15, 2016 20:05:39 GMT -8
“Actually, I learned to cook as a child and continued my education throughout my adolescence.” Vyra’s chilly smile glimmered like the edge of a knife as she dipped into her soup, her voice humorless. “Whore Academy just perfected my skills and taught me to be creative.”
Though the spacer was making no attempts to be polite about it, which she suspected may have been on purpose, the courtesan let his derogatory comments slide. For now. With her political background and the training she’d received at the guild, Vyra was fairly well equipped to handle a slew of different attitudes concerning her profession. Of course, that didn’t mean that insults or judgement had no sting, especially if one kept attacking, and learning to cope with it was one of the harder aspects to master, but it was an unavoidable part of the job.
She gestured to their meal. “This is nothing, you should see what I can do with a good roast.” The chill melted from her expression, and she redirected the conversation as she wound a few of the noodles around a chopstick. “You mentioned building things? I’ve noticed a few contraptions around the ship that I’ve been unable to identify. I take it you’re an inventor of sorts?” It was hard to eat instant noodle soup and still look dignified while doing it, but Vyra managed. She watched Rik, expression encouraging. “What’s your forte?”
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Post by Rik Vane on Feb 15, 2016 20:23:30 GMT -8
"Engineer, technically." Given the direction the previous topic had been going, he seized the opportunity to talk about something less personal like a man dying of thirst might seize a glass of water. "My specialty is miniaturization. I like taking big stuff and getting it as small as I can without losing too much capability, but I can fix just about anything given the right parts. It's really all about efficiency." He reached out and picked up the datapad off the table in front of him. "This datapad, for example. Normally they make 'em with metal wiring and memory chips, which cuts down on cost but tends to heat up under heavy use. I replaced all the metal bits with fiber optics and diode memory and not only did the speed jump like, a thousand times, it also can't overheat anymore. This little datapad has more computing power and speed than the Mynock's main computer. At least it will until I finish upgrading that... I've been running into a few issues with the funding and parts." He dropped the datapad back onto the table and sat back. "Good thing you showed up, isn't it?" He flashed a smile at her. "Anyway, I do the same kind of stuff with everything from guns and shields to droids and repulsors."
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Post by Deleted on Feb 16, 2016 13:10:15 GMT -8
In hyperspace, a corvette-class minelayer dropped out of hyperspace early, putting itself in the midst of deep space. On board, it carried the three relay stations, some fifty non-mass transceivers, and thirteen relay satellites that the Quincy had harvested, modified, and directly programmed over the past year - the components that, in their entirety, would make up the Quincy SpyNet. Placing the satellites, transceivers, and relay stations, however, was slow and grueling work - the corvette had to travel by sublight to exact coordinates, whereupon it released a transceiver, satellite, or relay, and then initiated tuning and orientation procedures. In tuning, the onboard communications officers communicated with the dropped component with the ships onboard communication suite, verifying that it was receiving all frequencies, and even testing encryption algorithms and droid brain logic. If everything checked out, they proceeded to orientation - specific coordinates were given, and the component then oriented towards that position - the corvette then made a short hyperspace jump, followed by a several hour sublight flight to intercept that orientations path. From there, another test of frequencies and protocols was done, before, finally, the corvette made the several hour sublight flight back to the primary space land, jumped back into hyperspace, and then repeated the process - some seventy times.
It would take the better part of three months (one week RL) to set up the entirety of the SpyNet array - meanwhile, the disaster that was the primary Listening post would -hopefully - be resolved by the time the array was put into place. Then again, if something could go wrong...it probably would.
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Post by An tSúil on Feb 16, 2016 17:46:33 GMT -8
Na uaireadóirí tsúil
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Vyra Silara
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A bird without its wings is a low and tragic thing.
Posts: 30
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Post by Vyra Silara on Feb 17, 2016 18:44:46 GMT -8
"Engineer, technically." Given the direction the previous topic had been going, he seized the opportunity to talk about something less personal like a man dying of thirst might seize a glass of water. "My specialty is miniaturization. I like taking big stuff and getting it as small as I can without losing too much capability, but I can fix just about anything given the right parts. It's really all about efficiency." He reached out and picked up the datapad off the table in front of him. "This datapad, for example. Normally they make 'em with metal wiring and memory chips, which cuts down on cost but tends to heat up under heavy use. I replaced all the metal bits with fiber optics and diode memory and not only did the speed jump like, a thousand times, it also can't overheat anymore. This little datapad has more computing power and speed than the Mynock's main computer. At least it will until I finish upgrading that... I've been running into a few issues with the funding and parts." He dropped the datapad back onto the table and sat back. "Good thing you showed up, isn't it?" He flashed a smile at her. "Anyway, I do the same kind of stuff with everything from guns and shields to droids and repulsors." |
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Zane Shadolen
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
On our way to Dantooine!
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Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Order
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Post by Zane Shadolen on Apr 18, 2016 23:19:27 GMT -8
*With the ship now in hyperspace travel, set on its own autopilot, it would only be a matter of time before the "Kressham's Rest" made its way through the galaxy to the Dantooine system. And, now that the ship had done its part in developing his journey, Zane realized it was now time for his own "course correction" -- which, as it stood, was eating a slice of his own humble pie and apologizing for his outburst towards the Jedi Master, Serrin Roma.*Going back over the displays once more to make certain the ship was able to navigate by itself, he removed his headset. Placing it on the console, he turned in his captain's chair so that he could see the cockpit's exit -- and, by extension, the entrance to the sleeping quarters' section (the only other place where a long-range communications terminal was known to be on this vessel). Easing out of the seat, he slowly made his way over to the doorway, knocking on it as to not disturb the occupant within.
"Master Roma?...May I come in?"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2016 20:55:34 GMT -8
JM-5K Scout vessel, Kressham's Rest - Common Area
Though I remained on Bimmisaari so that I might be alone with my grief and rage, with my failure and my struggle to fall no further than I fell when I allowed grief and rage to inform my decision to turn to the fast, easy power Bogan offers those foolish enough to believe that His gifts are without price, I was not alone for long, for through some strange alchemy of emotional duress, near-starvation, and physical and mental exhaustion I created a dopplegnager - of sorts - that was my companion then and, now, remains with me even though I am no longer as alone as I had been. My other me, present I have learned since my time on Bimmisaari, is not so much a dopplegnager as she is a personal phantom, the voice, I suspect, of my lingering doubts and fears.
Though I am alone in the common area of Zane's ship as we set out upon our mission, I am not really alone since my doppleganger is here as she has been with me ever since what befell me on Bimmisaari brought her into being, if only in my mind. It is either the height of arrogance, my twin tells me as she walks around me as I sit cross-legged on the floor and try to ignore her, or of foolishness that I believe it is at all wise to accompany Zane as he sets out on his mission. At best, my twin explains to me ever so calmly in my voice, I am a fragile companion as liable to break under any pressure we might encounter as I am to withstand it, and at worst, she frowns my frown while concluding, I am a potential danger if whatever stresses we might encounter rekindle the flame that was lit within me on Bimmisaari, the flame that will burn forevermore no matter how long I refuse to feed it.
I watch my twin's bare feet padding on the floor as she circles around me once more, her tone becoming musing now as though she is speaking while thinking rather than voicing thoughts that have been shaped and polished by lengthy consideration, a memory stirring as I listen to my other me telling me that maybe I am making much ado of nothing, maybe I need to remember what Radar taught me so long ago of how it was possible to step through the door Bogan can open only just as much as one wants, and no more. Maybe, my other me tells me in my own voice as I watch my toes on her feet as they stalk around and around as she serenely speaks in a lulling voice I have used myself to calmly teach others, I am looking at things from the wrong angle, and with just a little, teeny-tiny change in angle, why, I might see a way to end my torment, which, my other me tells me so very rationally, is really only, in the end, self-inflicted and so very, very unnecessary.
I shake my head, closing my eyes to try and shut out my voice as it comes from this other me I have made and cannot unmake, trying to hold onto the slippery memory that the sight of my bare feet on this other me has stirred within me and which I believe could be a key to . . .
A knock on the door breaks my thoughts, the memory escapes me, sliding back into the depths from which it rose for now, but I feel relieved as the knock has also caused my other me to retreat within as well, and so when I hear Zane call out, I can calmly answer without the need to act calm since I am free from my other me for now, "Of course, Zane. Reaching up to push my lekku aside so that I can rub the back of my neck, I smile when Zane enters and say in a light tone I hope makes it evident I am making a joke, You needn't knock to enter the common area you know, especially aboard your own ship."
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Zane Shadolen
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
On our way to Dantooine!
Posts: 40
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Order
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Post by Zane Shadolen on Apr 21, 2016 23:13:37 GMT -8
*The door slides open, and Zane is at once flooded with the whispers he heard on Umgul. They speak to him the words he heard sitting on the edge of his bed, titles of another, words speaking of treachery and deceit, all spoken in a voice that he cannot quite make out.*His brow furrows as he steps through the doorway, canting his head as if to listen closely to a voice no longer speaking, and he folds his arms in front of him. Bringing his left hand to his mouth, he uses his fingertips to tap his chin, and then holds it as though being thoughtful.*It isn't too much longer before the words begin to fade from his mind, and he latches on once again to the word "Hope." He still could not make sense of it all, but he relented. His purpose for being here was another one entirely. Looking down to see Serrin in her own meditative stance, Zane lowers himself into his own stance; with his knees before him on the floor as he rested his laurels on his heels.*Placing his hands on his thighs, he looked Serrin in the eye and spoke plainly to her.
"I...wanted to say that I'm sorry for my outburst earlier. I really have no excuse for being as impudent as I was, and you did not deserve my childish retort." He considered his words for a moment, and then smiled. "I suppose, rather than expecting you to recant your choice of words, I'll just have to prove I've got what it takes to keep her afloat, eh?" Shaking his head, he continues. "That really doesn't matter, though. Would you be willing to accept my apology, Master Serrin?"
His fingers seemed to loosely grip the sides of his legs now, a subconscious physical gesture that was certain not to go unnoticed. He was nervous, and anticipating a positive outcome. It was necessary, in his eyes, to start this potentially-long journey off with as little animosity between them as possible. The voices he heard speaking to him through the Force were another matter, and one that Zane may need to address with Serrin before long. But, he needed to settle this within his own mind, first and foremost.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 25, 2016 18:14:30 GMT -8
I am already shaking my head, doing my best to refrain from laughing whilst doing so, before Zane has finished speaking. The seriousness of his expression and tone, to me, seem rather unnecessary in light of the fact that his return to a matter I had nearly forgotten and which had seemed immaterial and trivial even at the time strikes me, perhaps unfortunately given how much it would seem to matter to Zane, as especially amusing given the thoughts which had been plaguing me while Zane had been, so it would seem, plagued by a simple misunderstanding.
Lifting my hands, my laughter suppressed as I feel it best that it not be given its freedom at the moment, I say with what I hope is just the right mixture of sober gravity, belief that Zane's characterization of his behavior as impudent is in err, and surprise that the earlier matter is being returned to now, I say, "While I do not feel you've anything to apologize for, I graciously accept your apology, Zane. Ignoring my other me as she tauntingly suggests that he would be better served by apologizing to her for interrupting our conversation just when she felt she was beginning to get through to me, I allow the air of seriousness I had adopted to begin to slowly fade as I smile and add a proviso, Provided, of course, that you accept my apology for having failed to convey that my remark was meant solely in jest."
Clapping my hands on my knees to suggest the subject is, in my mind, settled and can therefore be closed forevermore so long as he agrees, I stand and, as my right lekku swishes behind my back to curl its tip around the outside of my hip, propose, "Now then, shall we discuss how best to go about trying to track Adi when we arrive? While it seems rather unlikely that he and his companions have remained on Dantooine, the fact that some record of their having been there exists presents the possibility that other records might be found that will allow us to retrace their steps to some degree, ideally enough to at least suggest where they may have gone next, hmmm?"
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Zane Shadolen
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
On our way to Dantooine!
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Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Order
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Post by Zane Shadolen on Apr 26, 2016 1:46:51 GMT -8
*The apology was well-received. Good! That meant that Zane could focus on the mission with his whole heart now, and not be troubled by something as trivial as an awkward exchange. As soon as he saw Serrin stand to her feet, the auburn-haired Jedi rocked back onto his own heels, standing up and clapping his hands together as he began looking around the room.*Nothing was really in its place anymore, he noticed. Narrowing his eyesight, he then turned back to Serrin in an almost comedic expression of a quizzical look.
"Say...you wouldn't happen to know where the rest of my stuff was that Percy--I mean, Knight Madison found from the crash, would you?"
*He would have assumed a lot of it would be in the hold area, but, he didn't want to assume too much at this point. Everything would have its explanation in due time.*
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Post by Deleted on Apr 27, 2016 18:01:33 GMT -8
Closing my eyes and tilting my head to the side as I attempt to recall all that Percival had told me of his efforts to repair Zane's JumpMaster 5000, specifically the details regarding what he had done with those personal possessions of Zane which were recovered from the crash site, I lift a finger after a moment, smiling as my efforts to recover the memories prove successful, enabling me to tell Zane while pointing towards the room near the refresher that, "Percival mentioned that he put all that was recovered of your . . . stuff, was it? . . . was put in your quarters there."
Uh oh, I hear my other me say as Zane turns to head for his room, and I look from Zane to see the other me place a hand at her temple just as a piercing pain lances through my own causing me to mirror the gesture. I close my eyes as, just as my other me had done mere seconds before my eyes close, I rest my other hand against a wall to steady myself as the phantom sounds of crackling flames and the equally ghostly smells of smoke and ash assail my nostrils. For a moment the common area fades around me, the wall beneath my hand seeming to feel rough, like the bark of a tree, and I am standing amidst a sea of burning plains, tall grass waving like waves as it burns. The vision passes almost as soon as it comes, however, and the plains flicker once before the common area is a common area once more.
I shake my head, leaning heavily against the wall beside me, feeling momentarily unsure of what I had glimpsed, or whether I had glimpsed anything at all other than some random image cast up from my subconscious. I search my memories in vain for anything in my past that could have been the source of the images, but the search is in vain, leaving me to wonder whether or not I should attach any significance to the incident. I look towards my other me only to see that she has left me, at least for now, alone to solve the mystery of what I have seen or perhaps merely dreamed while awake.
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Zane Shadolen
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
On our way to Dantooine!
Posts: 40
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Order
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Post by Zane Shadolen on May 1, 2016 23:04:25 GMT -8
*As when a rock skips across the surface of a pond, so did the mind-shattering ripple through the Force reverberate from Serrin to the auburn-haired Jedi. He felt sweat accumulate on his temple, and beads rolling down them to his cheeks. Before him, the room seemed to stretch and darken as he reached for the door that seemed to fade with each passing moment. He tried to shout, but his voice was lost to the void. He reached with all his might, trying to get to the door that supposedly held his freedom, when suddenly it seemed as though it was torn away. The room was suddenly swallowed up by light and heat, searing hot, and Zane had to cover his face with the sleeve of his robe. When he found himself able to, he looked around the edge to suddenly see himself standing in the midst of a burning field. He was surrounded by smoke that seemed to choke his lungs, feeling the flames as he gasped for air. His eyes burned and stung, and he heard voices -- no, they were screams. He fought his way through the smoke for a moment, trying to find where they were coming from. It was impossible to ferret out the source. They seemed to come from every direction. He caught a glimpse of something through the furling smoke and flames. A familiar shadow, although Zane dreaded to consider this implication. All of this seemed too familiar, and yet so incredibly-distant. It all had to be connected somehow.*
*As soon as the shadow had come, all else suddenly faded. Zane now stood in the center of his living quarters, looking over the room with as much shock and awe as one could expect after having such a strong vision. He attributed this to Serrin's presence here, as well. With such a potent Force-wielder in his presence, he assumed that her vision must've rippled outward and overtaken his own senses. With their destination so clearly before them, Zane knew what it must mean.*Turning back to see Serrin leaning against the bulkhead through the doorway, the auburn-haired Jedi immediately rushed over to her. Grasping her shoulder lightly, he sought to steady her. Without hesitating, he said the one word that was on his mind presently...
"...Dantooine?"
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2016 18:23:06 GMT -8
I tilt my head to the side perplexedly when Zane, steadying me thoughtfully with a hand, speaks but a single word, and with that lone word dispels the confusion lingering in the aftermath of my vision even though it is momentarily unclear to me how it is that he knows what I had seen. I nod, repeating, "Dantooine," confirming that he has correctly ascertained the world I had seen, which it seems he has seen as well, my vision perhaps a shared one, or one that was not granted to me alone, though it hardly seems to matter how or why we have both seen what we have seen when it is clear that we were allowed to see it so that we knew that Ashla has some purpose for one or both of us there on the world we have seen.
Smiling gratefully, albeit unsteadily, after I feel steady enough on my feet to move without courting a fall, I close my eyes and rub my temples as my thoughts race in the wake of having learned where the fires we had seen are burning, have burned, or perhaps will burn sometime in the future - not knowing precisely where or when the things we can at times see from great physical distances or view from across expanses of time is at times maddening, and I know that asking questions such as when the moments glimpsed occurred or will or occur, or the precise circumstances surrounding them only invites frustrations, and that I must, in order to best serve Ashla, instead trust that She will reveal what I need to have revealed to me when and if the time arrives for that information to guide us - and try to settle my thoughts.
I know little of the state of affairs on Dantooine, and of whatever Jedi presence might be left on the world, which makes planning ahead difficult, especially in light of the fact that I know not when or exactly what I might be planning for. Speaking as much to myself as to Zane, who may very well be handling things far better than I, I say, "We need to be calm. We don't know whether what we've seen has already occurred, or has yet to occur, and so should wait until we know more to decide how best to proceed. Thinking aloud, I begin to pace restlessly as I continue on at a rapid clip, There is, or was a small Jedi enclave on Dantooine; if we could contact them we might be able to warn them of . . . I shake my head in frustration, frowning as I realize that it may already be too late for a warning, to learn how best we might help them."
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