He shook his head slowly. "He wouldn't go to Korriban." he murmured softly, "There would be no point. Hardly anyone is left on that planet since the Sith occupation came to an end - most escaped when they turned on each other. Those that stayed are either hermits or outcasts."

Reaching for his glass, he raised it to his lips and took a few sips. "Kashyyk and Manaan are the same problem - what would be the point? I don't see any reason for him to go to Tatooine. And Onderon is in political turmoil - again, no reason.

"As for Nar Shaddaa..." his peircing blue eyes scanned across the cafe, watching the exceedingly noisy patrons with dull, uncurious - but warry eyes. "No on can know about that. There is so much on Nar Shaddaa that the average spacer - or mechanic - would have no idea about. It's...an intruiging thought."

Two humans, a man and a woman, walked into the restaurant and stood by the waiter’s podium, waiting to be seated. They were both armed with side-holstered blasters (not unusual for this part of town) and were casually dressed—plain white shirts, dark trousers, leather jackets and boots. In fact, the only thing that distinguished them from any other spacer were the second-class Corellian bloodstripes that each of them had running down the outside leg of their trousers.

The woman appeared to be in her early thirties. She was slim, slightly taller than average height, attractive and of athletic build, and her short mousy-brown hair accented her high-cheekbones and taut jawline. Sharp steel grey eyes searched the restaurant, perhaps looking for an empty table, or a friendly face, or maybe just to see what other patrons were eating at the moment.

Her male companion was taller and slightly older than her, clean-shaven with dark hair greying at the temples and smile lines visible around his warm brown eyes. He, too, scanned the restaurant, although he appeared to be looking for the waiter.

“You know, I still can’t believe you’re leaving us,” he was saying to the woman, as he finally spotted the elusive waiter and waved to him. “Have you decided what you’re going to do next?”

“I haven’t a clue,” the woman replied. “Go home, I guess.”

“Home? You?” The man scoffed. “And do what?” The waiter appeared at the podium. “Two, please,” Ev said to him. The waiter grabbed up two menus and Ev and Kim followed him.

Her eyes narrowed with sarcasm at her friend's question. “Knit,” she replied sardonically, as the waiter seated them at a small table near to one where two women and a scruffy looking man sat. “I’m going to find a job, Ev, what do you think?” she said, not caring if anyone overheard their conversation. “With all the restoration projects now, there’s bound to be something out there for an experienced pilot--a freighter company, perhaps. Or maybe even something with the CEC. I hear they pay pretty well.”

“The only thing the CEC’ll have going now is assembly jobs,” said Ev. “And personally I have a hard time picturing Kimber Quitaan as a happy-go-lucky welder. And piloting a freighter full of parts and supplies for restoration projects isn’t much better than the cruise ship industry.”

“Well, I’m tired of ferrying snotty passengers back and forth to those holiday resort planets,” said Kim. The sound of a glass breaking caught her attention, and she turned around. Just behind her, a woman was blustering over her spilled water glass. Kim exchanged a look with her companion, as the complaining and clumsy female patron was stereotypical of the type of ‘snotty’ passenger Kim had just been complaining about. “Good grief, they’re everywhere,” she murmured, slowly shaking her head with disbelief. She picked up her menu. “Besides,” she continued as she scanned the menu. “I told Trey that I would leave the very next time I got groped by one of those prugnuficating Senatorial mudcrutches he calls ‘priority’ passengers, and I meant it.”

“You know, Trey really doesn’t want you to leave.”

Kim snorted. “Trey really doesn’t want to do much of anything anymore.” She sighed. “Ever since that last trip into the Unknown Regions, he hasn’t been the same. He doesn’t take any risks anymore. And this whole idea of refitting the ship as a cruise liner….” She let out a disappointed sigh. “More than half our old crew has left this past year alone. Things just aren’t the same, Ev.” Grey eyes met brown. “Don’t you ever miss the good ‘ol days? You know, exploring just to see what’s out there, discovering new hyperspace routes, or, hell, even finding and naming an entirely new planet?”

“Sure I do,” Ev said, then he broke his gaze with her to peruse the menu. “Hmm… think I’m in the mood for an omelette.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

Ev set the menu down and looked pensively at his companion. “Trouble is, Kim, there’s not much call for exploration or scout work anymore. The Republic’s priority is replace and repair. It’s the economic cost of war.”

“Yeah? Well, economics was never my strong subject at the Academy,” she said sourly.

The waiter soon appeared to take their orders. “A double nuna omelette, large caf, and a side of toast,” Ev said confidently responding in the waiter’s native tongue as he handed in his menu.

Kim’s eyes hurriedly darted across the menu. “Ach, the hell with it….” She handed the menu to the waiter. “I’ll have the same.”

Ev sighed. “You know, Kim, the ship’s not going to be the same without you. Who am I going to con into a game of midnight Pazzak with you gone?”

“You still got Meven and Cole and Ral.” She gave him a weak smile. “Ev, what happened to us? Our crew used to be so tight—Trey leading our merry band of explorers through the Unknown Regions. Now… now it’s only you four left. Four, out of thirty-five.

“And I’m sorry I’m leaving, Ev, but… I just can’t stand it anymore—the passengers whinging about us going too fast or too slow, complaints about their cabins being too hot or too cold, the same ‘ol commentary I’ve got to give time and time again as we pass by any sort of ‘celestrial point-of-interest’,….”

Ev held up a reminding finger. “Don’t forget the groping.”

Kim gave him a disparaging look. “I’m just so tired of it, Ev.”

“Well, as the saying goes, ‘all good things must come to an end,’” Ev said. “But I’ll tell you one thing—you won’t find a captain that’ll pay you as much as Trey does,” Ev warned. “Not these days.”

“It’s not about the credits, Trey,” Kim said. “It’s… it’s about the adventure, the excitement, the thrill of going someplace I’ve never been before. Every day is so routine now. I feel like my life force is just… being sucked out of me bit by bit. I want something more. Something... different. Meaningful. Exciting.”

“Well, you won’t get anything meaningful, different, or exciting if you go to work for the CEC.”

“Then I’ll just have to find myself a freighter of some sort to pilot.” She gave him a mischievous grin. “I suppose,” she said slowly, “I could always try piracy.”

Ev laughed out loud. “Kimber Quitaan and the Bucanneers?! Sounds like the name of a bad cover band.”

Kim playfully stuck out her tongue at Ev. “You watch, Ev. Something will come my way.”


((OOC: Ok... a pilot/scout/navigator is waiting in the wings. I'll let you all decide how you make contact with her. 'Ev' is not recruitable unless the deal is very, very enticing. :p))

Rika didn't like how easily Tysyacha had taken to the mechanic without a name, but she went along in silence, only glaring at the man when he asked her when he could start working. There were just too many things that were... convenient about his arrival at that exact time and Rika could not feel at ease with that.

As Tysyacha and the mechanic chattered about locations their search for Revan might lead them, Rika found her attention wavering. Specifically, she found herself listening in on what sounded like the crew of another ship. What really caught her interest was that the pilot sounded rather... available.

"Excuse me," she said to Tysyacha and the mechanic. Then, she rose and approached the table where the pilot and the rest of the crew sat.

"Forgive my excellent hearing," she said to Kim, "but you're a pilot, yes? My companion...s, excuse me... companions and I are in need of a good pilot."

She gestured to the table where Tysyacha and the mechanic sat and then turned back to the pilot. "Come sit with us for a moment, will you? I'm sure we can come to an agreement that will prove favorable to all involved."

"Come sit with us for a moment, will you? I'm sure we can come to an agreement that will prove favorable to all involved."

"You need a pilot?" Kim's brow raised in surprise at the stranger's request, and she looked across the table at Ev.

"Well, that's... convenient," Ev said, sounding a bit suspicious.

Kim was also a bit wary, but being the adventurous type and thinking that she was due some luck of late, she agreed to go with the woman to meet her companions. "Ok, sure. I'm game. Ev, just give me a wave when my food comes, okay? I won't be long."

As Kim followed Rika over to her table. "Just so you know," she said to Rika, "I'm very particular about the jobs I take. I was with my last crew for five years. Hate to leave them, but the job isn't fun anymore." She cringed. "My captain lost his bottle and he's turned his ship into a pleasure cruiser."

As she sat down with Rika at the table, she got a closer look at the man that was sitting with the other woman. She eyed him over a bit. He looked familiar, but as she couldn't place his face, she said nothing. After all, if she was being offered a job, she didn't want to come across as rude.

"As for anywhere else...well, I think we're both aware of how vast the galaxy is." he said, piercing a strip of bacon with his fork. "We would need some sort of inkling as to where Revan went before we begin speculating..."

Looking up, he set his fork down again as another woman came to sit with them. He eyed her over a bit. She seemed to be the typical pilot-type, and he wondered whether or not that was exactly the reason why Rika was coming to sit with them.

Tysyacha sized up the woman that Rika had brought to sit at their table and discuss business, if only for a moment. Her presence in the Force was that of a tough and determined pilot, more than capable if things got rough. Most definitely not one of those primped and pampered sorts that came out of the most elite flight schools these days. This pilot looked like she could beat the pulp out of several of those any day.

If we ever have Sith remnants tailing us, Tysyacha mused, she'll more than do.

"Good morning," she said as she smiled to the woman with the dark hair and rather stylish pilot's attire. "My name is Tysyacha Dv--excuse me, Odnova. My companions and I are looking for a reputable pilot to fly our ship into the Unknown Regions beyond the Outer Rim. Our mission is not officially sanctioned Republic business, but it will help the Republic to clear the galaxy of any remaining remnants of--" Realizing she was rambling and starting to speak in a politician's favorite language, Tysyacha cleared her throat. Cut to the chase.

"We believe that, even after the war seven years ago waged by Darth Malak and the Sith, there may still be Sith remnants watching and waiting to strike. Ms. Rika Saben and I know some of the Jedi ways--" and here she gestured deferentially to Rika--"and we know how to listen to the Force. You may not believe in such things, but with the Republic being the way it is, faltering and struggling to rebuild, we can't afford to let any Sith stragglers attack again."

She stood up and wound something from around her neck. "As for payment, I'm afraid I spent my last credit on repairs to my weapons, ship, and droids. This is all I have, and I know it doesn't look like much, but an irtysch crystal pendant is very helpful to have when you need keen eyesight and lightning-quick reflexes. I promise you lots of adventure, if not a suicide mission, and your family will get to say you died as a hero." A wink. "Eh?"

What? Have you lost your mind? scolded an undercurrent in the Force.

Kim bit back a grin as the woman who called herself Tysyacha Odovna rambled on about the Republic, Jedi, Sith, and the Force. Kimber really didn't have the time nor the inclination to think about politics, or economics, or just who was in control of whom and for what reason. In the end, it really didn't matter much to her. She craved adventure, exploration, and excitement--which was exactly what this woman was offering her.

Still, Kim listened to Tysy's pitch, and politely examined the necklace that she was planning to use as payment. She really didn't need the money, or the necklace for that matter, and truth be told, she'd probably take the job for nothing if it meant she could go back to exploring the Unknown Regions again. But she wasn't about to blurt that out. That was too unprofessional.

"A hero on a suicide mission, huh?" Kim said to Tysy, as she held the crystals up to catch the light. "My family already knows that I'm a hero." She tapped the bloodstripe on the side of her leg. "Saved 16 CorSec soldiers from certain death by landing a transport on a space platform that was about to explode. People said that was a suicide mission. I said it was just a calculated high risk maneuver."

She laid the necklace gently on the table and looked directly at Tysy. "Name's Kimber Quitaan," she said, extending her hand. "Pilot of the... excuse me,... former pilot of the Astracrea." She sighed, remembering how that name used to inspire pride in her before her captain had turned the ship into a cruise liner. "Look, I'll be honest with you, Miss Odovna. I've been all over the Outer Rim, and beyond to the Unknown Regions. Seen lots of strange stuff, but never once have I ever considered suicide. It's just not in my nature." She grinned then. "That's not to say that I'm not interested in the job, however. I am. But...."

She looked again at the man beside Tysy and then at Rika, and then back at Tysy. "I'd like to know a bit more about the crew I'd be working with. I mean, three people seeking out Sith, remnants as they may be...? You've got to have more than just 'feelings' and a few Jedi tricks up your sleeves. Now, you don't have to tell me what they are, but at least tell me that I'm not wrong. If there's one thing I hate, it's being conned."

Her eyes lingered on the man next to Tysy. "Forgive me, but have we met before?" Kim asked him. "You look so familiar, but I can't place where I might have seen you."

He studied the woman, this...Kimber Quitaan. She was a pilot - obviously - and a very brash one at that. She seemed to have just the right amount of spice for this mission...though he couldn't help but wonder if such a fact might turn out to be just as dangerous as it was beneficial.

"It's very possible." he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I've been all over the galaxy, working as a mechanic. Seeing as the two of us are so involved with ships and their workings, I don't see why we wouldn't have met before. You'll have to forgive me, though - I'm afraid that I don't recall your face."

Kimber grinned at the mechanic. "Probably because it's normally covered up by a helmet and/or a face plate when I'm in a space port," she replied to him. "It's no matter. I'll remember eventually. I never forget a face. Names, on the other hand, are quite a different matter. And I don't believe I caught yours?"

She glanced at Rika askance. "Or yours, for that matter, ma'am. Not that names matter much to me, mind you, but they do come in handy." She grinned wryly. "Otherwise, I'm likely to revert to calling you something rather more colourful and, depending on the circumstances, it may or may not be something of your liking. And, if I take this job," she added, "I wouldn't want to start off on the wrong foot. Crews need to depend on one another. Teamwork, you know? Reputations, names, past discrepancies... none of that matters a lick when it comes down to the crunch. It's the here and now is what counts in my book. Can I count on you in a crisis? That's what I'd like to know."

A smile spread slowly to Rika's face. "I haven't known you two minutes and I like you already," she told Kim. "A name's easy. Rika Saben. However any of the questions you have asked can be answered with a lie. The real question is how can you be sure you can trust us? If I say I'm trustworthy, how much does it mean?"

She shook her head. "A deeply philosophical discussion, perhaps, but reputation is built upon experience. We offer you a job, one filled with adventure no less, but no matter what we tell you, you cannot fully know if you can count on us until we have come to your aid in crisis. You cannot know if we have told truthfully concerning our past unless the true past catches up to us. You cannot believe us when we speak of our reputations until you have seen the reputation become fact with your own eyes."

Leaning forward, she stared straight into Kim's eyes. "So the question you want to be asking right now is this: are you willing to risk your life with complete strangers, participating in what will likely be quite dangerous adventures in the interest of confirming whatever we choose to tell you?"

"My companions and I are looking for a reputable pilot to fly our ship into the Unknown Regions beyond the Outer Rim."

A pointed ear perked up at the bar.

"You may not believe in such things, but with the Republic being the way it is, faltering and struggling to rebuild, we can't afford to let any Sith stragglers attack again."

A second ear went up, this one also pointed.

"I promise you lots of adventure, if not a suicide mission, and your family will get to say you died as a hero."

The pair of ears went down for a moment, then rose up again as the body attached to them vacated its seat. It was a fairly good body; lithe, but not skinny, with a long mane of sandy brown hair flowing down from the head. A head which was now turned toward the direction of the small crowd at the table a few dozen paces away. Expressive, eager eyes, one a shade of light grey, the other a slightly darker green, studied the five figures intently. After hearing a few more snippets of conversation, a pair of thin lips parted to reveal a white-toothed smile.

A long, navy cape furled in the air as the body made its way carefully across the restaurant and over to the table the eyes were locked onto. Slowing as it approached within a stone's throw from the group, it whipped a gloved hand out, procuring a chair from an empty nearby table and set it in front of itself. Placing a booted foot on either side, it lowered itself into the chair, leaning its sinewy torso up against the backrest.

"So the question you want to be asking right now is this: are you willing to risk your life with complete strangers, participating in what will likely be quite dangerous adventures in the interest of confirming whatever we choose to tell you?" the dark-haired woman asked of her newly acquainted and shorter-haired tablemate.

"Ah, you forgot to mention the fact that you will be heading in directions unknown, to places bereft of any form of generally-agreed upon civilization," the thin lips offered in a lilting, carefree voice as the pointed ears danced in anticipation.

Tysyacha was more than taken aback. Apparently, the cover of noise and crowd chatter had not been enough to conceal the conversation she'd been having with Rika and the unnamed man with the dark hair and eyes that seemed to convict her very soul not of exact betrayal, but of dereliction of duty at least. Even though she was glad that one Kimber Quitaan had "taken the bait" and risen to the possible challenge of piloting the Ebon Hawk into the Unknown Regions, she had a flash of the Force that said this pointy-eared sentient was one listener too many.

"Excuse me," she said to the one with the bi-colored eyes, one gray, one green. "May I help you? This table is taken, although you're fully welcome to borrow the chair if you need an extra one." Tysyacha glanced toward the doorway of the Spacelanes Cafe, and there were still rather impatient-looking people waiting to be seated. Perhaps it was time that she and Rika, along with the man and perhaps Kimber, went back to the Hawk. For the moment, she was sick of noise and crowds and the substandard atmosphere of a breakfast place that should have replenished her.

Kimber carefully eyed the near-human newcomer, who she suspected was of Arkanian origin and quite possibly competition for this job Tysy was offering. Although his opinion had been unsolicited and quite bold, he didn't appear to pose an immediate threat to anyone, but being as Kimber was Corellian she couldn't resist responding to him.

She held up a hand, palm facing outwards, to stay any ideas of confrontation that may have been brewing in the newcomer's mind, and then said, "Friend, the entire Outer Rim is bereft of any generally-agreed upon form of civilization. That is," she added, "according to people who haven't ventured far from the Core Worlds."

She grinned at him then, friendly, but with a hint of seasoned wariness. "Fortunately, I'm not one of those people."

She turned to Rika then, extending her hand in greeting. "Nice to make your acquaintance. As for the answer to my question, you've pretty much answered it." The corner of Kim's mouth upturned in a wry grin. "In my experience, no one who is that dishonest about their intentions ever tries to persuade someone by taking the philosophical road. I don't need any more confirmation than that.

"As far as me risking my life, well... a life without risk isn't worth living in my opinion. Now, that doesn't mean to say that I'm stupid or reckless and am going to try to fly into the nearest sun just to see what it feels like. No, I like my life and have every intention of living a long one."

Kim noticed that Tysyacha seemed to be growing increasingly uncomfortable with the newcomer's arrival, and so she rose from the table. It was time to make a decision.

"You hang onto this for the moment, Miss Odovna," Kim said. She gently slid the crystal necklace back across the table towards Tysy, but not before giving both men, the newcomer and the mechanic, another once over as if she wasn't quite sure if either of them could be trusted around jemstones. "I'm sure it's obvious to both of you," she looked at Rika and Tysy in turn, "that I'm interested in the job you've got going. And I'd like to accept, but... I'd also like to keep my options open."

Tysyacha's face fell just a little bit, but Rika's remained impassively cool.

"See," Kim continued, "I've been doing the touristy travel route for just over a year now, and what I really need is some time away from that. A vacation, so to speak, from the boredom and routine that is the pleasure cruise industry.

"So, tell you what. I'll accept your job offer, but only on a trial basis. If, say in a couple months or so, you still want me as a pilot and I still want to fly for you, then we can talk terms. But for now, let's just keep it simple. I want to fly, you need a pilot, and we both seem to want to go in the same general direction." She glanced down at the crystal necklace. "And as pretty as that is, my advice would be to keep it for something to use for trading if you should ever need repairs or spares or whatnots on your journey. Republic credits don't count for much once you're outside the Republic."

She glanced over her shoulder at her friend Ev. "Well, looks like my breakfast has arrived," she said, observing that the waiter was just carrying their order from the kitchens. "Just let me know where your ship is docked, Miss Odovna, and I'll meet you there, say...in an hour? That should give us both time to finish up our meals and for me to get my gear together." She stuck out her hand. "So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Kim hoped that she hadn't come across to Tysy as sounding desperate. Truth was, she didn't really need the money, but she also didn't want to get a reputation of someone who would undercut the going rate for pilots. That was a good way to make enemies of the crime lords and get on their 'black list'. Then she'd be stuck not having a job for a very long time indeed. But neither did she want to be stuck with a contract that she couldn't get out of. What if something better came along? What if she didn't like the job? After all, it took time to get to know a new crew. Maybe she wouldn't fit in. Doubts like this ran through her mind, though the hand she offered to Tysy remained steady and her expression remained calm.

"Friend, the entire Outer Rim is bereft of any generally-agreed upon form of civilization. That is, according to people who haven't ventured far from the Core Worlds."

The pointed ears twitched in amusement, but the lips remained pressed.

"Fortunately, I'm not one of those people."

The brow above the grey eye arched, and the lips curved upward. "Neither am I," they uttered, though only audible enough to those with pointed ears.

The ears listened to the short-haired one accept her commission with the other three, then twitched again as she mentioned "options". They did so love it when they listened to someone drive a smart bargain. Usually it was the lips that did the bargaining, but it was a treat to hear someone different from time to time.

"So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

The lips yearned to speak, but remained curved and shut. For now. Manners were to be attended to.

Tysyacha nodded. "Miy imeyem sdelku," she replied. "We have a deal." She extended her own hand and shook Kimber's twice, performing a poluvazhenie, meaning "half-respect", a subtle half-bow over it. In her culture, it was only done when one person wished to be in a position of respectful and comradely subordinacy to another. When she had applied for her first job, she had done this to a possible employer at her interview. It had earned her kudos, but not the position she wanted.

Technically, superiors would not usually perform this gesture when shaking the hands of subordinates, but this was a special case. If Kimber piloted the Ebon Hawk, that meant Tysyacha was entrusting her own life to Kimber's, even though she was Kimber's boss. Her own piloting skills were a little (or a lot) rusty, to say the least.

Atton always flew the ship. Kimber seems more than up to his pazaak par!

She hoped her gesture was not lost on Ms. Quitaan, but if it was, at least she'd tried.

"We have a deal."

The lips waited until the two women had finished shaking hands before finally parting and speaking. "My congratulations on your new commission, Ms. Quitaan," they said in the same carefree tone as before. "I'm sure you will provide excellent flying capabilities to these fine folk."

The eyes now turned to the one named Tysyacha. "Ms. Odnova," the lips spoke again, addressing the formidable-looking woman. "I do understand that you will be traveling into the Unknown Regions. Not many people these days partake in such an endeavor; consequently, not many people know the dangers in those parts." The lips paused for a moment as the eyes studied Tysyacha with careful appraisal. "Fortunately, you have been able to procure yourself one such person who knows the Outer Rim in the form of Ms. Quitaan here and I'm sure her knowledge is quite superb. However, as fortune would have it, there happens to be another being in this fine establishment that has had experience in the Unknown Regions and, coincidentally, is interested in going back to said regions in order to further their knowledge." The lips fell silent, and the ears perked up in anticipation of the answer to the lips' carefully laid proposal.

Kim's brow raised with awe as she recognized the significance of Tysyacha's gesture during their handshake. She nodded in acknowledgment and then said, "Thank you. I won't let you down. Captain," she added.

As the near-human spoke up, Kim studied him with renewed interest. A scout? Or a surveyor? Or maybe even a freelance mercenary? She really wasn't sure. Still, he had given her a compliment. (Or was 'he' really a 'she'? Kim wasn't sure about that either now that she thought a bit more about how androgynous the near-human person seemed.)

"Thank you for your confidence, friend," Kim said to him respectfully. "And, if you truly have experience of traveling the Unknown Regions, your knowledge would be most welcome." She gave Tysycha a look. "Of course, you're the captain. It's your decision. But, the more knowledge the better when you're out there."

With that, she gave Tysy her comlink ID, so she could send the coordinates of her ship's hanger to Kim's datapad, and then Kimber bid her leave from the group and returned to the table where Ev was just digging into his omelette.

"So, did you take the job?" he asked between mouthfuls.

Kim took her seat. "Yup."

Ev stopped eating. "Just like that?"

"Just like that. Although I told them it was only on a trial basis for the first couple of months. See how I like it first." She took a bite of her food, then grimaced. "Say, can you pass the red sauce, please?"

"Don't change the subject," Ev said, as he handed the bottle to her. "So how do you know you can trust them?"

"Same way they know they can trust me," she replied, pouring the sauce on her plate in a neat round blob.

Ev glanced over at Tysy. "Well, she is pretty, I'll give you that."

"Yeah, she is," Kim agreed. "But she's not my type. And, besides, I'm a professional and she's my boss. 'No fishing in the company pond,' remember?'"

Ev s******ed. "You and your rules...."

Kim kicked him under the table. "Hey, my rules work for me, okay? Now would you just eat your food? Please? I've got to go and get my gear and meet them at their ship in an hour. And I'd like to say my goodbyes to the guys before I leave."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Ev agreed. "But I still think you might have found a better job if you had just waited a bit."

"I've waited long enough," Kimber said, glancing over at Tysy's table. "Besides, I've got a good feeling about this job."

"If you know the Outer Rim just as intimately as I do not," Tysyacha told the strange sentient with the pointed ears, "then perhaps our mission will go more smoothly than I had first expected. I had not thought to bring a scout or surveyor aboard the Ebon Hawk, and since we will probably not have any galaxy maps to guide us beyond a certain point of no return, this was an oversight on my part." She finished up the last of her two krayt dragon eggs.

"I personally would welcome you aboard, if you are who you say you are, but first you have to pass the inspection test that I'm sure one of my droids will have waiting for you. He doesn't cotton very well to strangers, I fear," said Tysyacha apologetically, "but once he gets to know you, he's a very loyal bodyguard droid." Sitting back down with a trace of a blush on her cheeks, she waited until Rika Saben and the mechanic had also finished eating.

When they were done, Tysyacha paid with the last few credits she'd found in the pocket of her rather shabby-looking civilian's tunic. Apparently, she had not spent her final bit of money on repairs to the ship and droids, as she had first suspected. Although, she wouldn't have been above a bit of menial penitential labor doing dishes in the cafeteria scullery if it had come to that. She, Rika, the mechanic, Kim, and the pointy-eared sentient all strolled back to Snello's (which was in full swing) to retrieve the slumbering Hawk.

This time, both T3-M4 and HK-47 emerged from the vessel to greet them.

T3 twittled and beeped in excited tones, while HK, as usual, brandished his molten cannon. For him, the situation was markedly improved with the Exile around, but still, he trusted strangers about as far as he could melt them.

"Surprised Statement: Why, Master, it seems that you've brought more meatbags with you. I presume you know they're not thieves, or vandals?"

"Stow it, HK," chided Tysyacha coldly. She gestured to the mechanic, not unkindly or rudely, but rather with a flick of the hand that said One move, and he and I will both turn you into slag. "You've met this man before. You've also met Rika Saben, who repaired you so well it's a wonder she restrained herself from disabling your vocabulator permanently. As for the others, the woman in pilot's gear is Kimber Quitaan, whom I've hired to fly the Hawk for us."

"Indignant Retort: Master! I am far more capable as a pilot than this organic could be. You forget that I, as a droid, know the ship's controls."

"Perhaps a little too well," said Tysyacha, "and I wouldn't trust you to fly the Ebon Hawk if you paid me a million credits. Knowing you, if we were in any sort of danger, you'd retaliate immediately without fully assessing the threat." She turned to the pointy-eared stranger. "As for this one, he (or she?) is a scout and surveyor who has knowledge of the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions." She gave him/her a look that said Introduce yourself, quickly, before HK decides that his molten cannon needs a little exercise!

"What a curious droid," the lips exclaimed as the eyes raked over the rust-colored automaton, noting how it seemed to exude an aura of displeasure, despite not being organic. "This should be a most interesting trip indeed."

The eyes closed for a moment as the lips debated their next statement, then opened again, dancing in amusement. "My manners have been amiss, despite my attempts to rein them in," they said jovially. "I have not made my identity known to any of you and it would not do at all to have you think of me as a stranger or worse yet-" the eyes crinkled in the approximation of a stricken look, "as that pointy-eared rogue!" The lips curved ruefully. "Too oft have I been called that."

The ears twitched as the head flicked backward, sending the long mane of hair flying. "But enough chitter-chatter. You may call me Lane." The lips paused, as if savoring the name. "Yes, I do think we will go with that," they finished, partnig and revealing the row of white teeth behind them again.

He had sat and finished eating his krayt eggs and bacon, watching silently as Tysy quickly began to recruit members to the Ebon Hawk - they seemed to flock to her instantly.

This had not been in his plans - however, he knew that it would be inevitable. Tysyacha had the type of charisma that simply drew others to her - whether or not that was increased by her connection to the Force, he wasn't sure. It was very rare for someone to be able to be able to pull people in without any effort at all...but, with Tysy being Tysy...

He was silent once more as they returned in a group to the Hawk's dock at Snello's Storage Emporium, his sharp blue eyes watching the loading ramp as he caught movement in the shadows above it. Sure enough, the HK unit and the astromech droid disembarked. The assassin droid was rather irritable, as usual, and his eyes were glued to the droid - as well as the mechanical finger that was wrapped around the dangerous-looking gun's trigger. He made no movement, nor did hi speak. He simply watched as Tysyacha regarded both her droid servants, telling the HK unit to lower his weapon and urged the sentinent to introduce himself.

The man - or was it a woman, perhaps? - was a puzzlement to him. In all his travels, he had never seen a creature like this. Perhaps he or she was a crossbreed? If they were, then he had never seen such a combination as this. And the features of the face and body were so indiscriminent that it was impossible to determine the gender...

Then there was the new pilot that the Jedi had found. The new employee was definately female - Correlian, if he had any sense. He was as of yet unsure of her, though she seemed to be one that could be trusted in a time of heat. Perhaps she would end up being a wonderful addition to the team - although, if her Correlian blood played any large part in her attitude, the Ebon Hawk might quickly become a battle ground.

HK-47 gave a single crisp nod that was half dismissal and half dire warning.

"Aloof Musing: 'Lane', as in a highway or other passage through any territory, whether marked or unmarked. Very well. Should you attempt to damage my Master or any other organics that serve her in any way, you shall find I have suddenly carved a 'lane' through your skull with my molten cannon fire."

Tysyacha rolled her eyes. "You know, HK, you should become an interviewer for Czerka or one of the larger corporations here in the galaxy. No one else could ever make such a first impression!" Sorry, Lane, her look said.

"Proud Murmur: Thank you, but such a task would be a waste of my talents."

As you yourself would be a waste of smoldering spare parts if all five of us ganged up on you at once. For a protocol droid, sometimes HK was quite unobservant. Apparently "veiled sarcasm" was not one of the voice tones he was programmed to imitate and recognize, unless it was programmed under the "condescending" analog. Ah, well. Tysyacha had better thngs to do than banter with something that didn't have an actual brain. She led Rika Saben, Lane, the still-unnamed mechanic, and Kimber Quitaan inside the Ebon Hawk, its humming machinery sounding almost eager to be used again.

First, she showed Kimber to the pilot's chair. "Here's where you'll probably be most of the time--in the driver's seat," she said with a wink and a slightly exaggerated bow that said, Duh, I know. "I know you won't let us down, and as for HK-47, if he makes any rude comments, you have my personal permission to call Rika and have her disable his vocabulator."

After that, Tysyacha showed the newest crew of the Ebon Hawk the other critical parts of their floating fortress, including the garage, hyperdrive, cargo hold, port and starboard-side dormitories for sleeping, security system room, medbay, one storage room (for when HK got 'uppity' or belligerent), and the all-important galaxy map that showed where they were and where they could be heading. She was home, this ship, better than most on land.

"Question: Speaking of 'heading' somewhere, Master, where are we going?"

A lump caught in the Exile's throat. She paused, stalling for a bit more time.

"I shall now attempt to insult you in your native tongue: Teeeee nay znaa-yesh? Ha, ha, ha." Bad pronunciation aside, it meant "You don't know?"

Tysyacha stalked up to the droid and ignited one of her two sabers, placing it right underneath HK's copper chin. "You call me vy", she murmured icily, "the respectful form of 'you', if you want to call me anything besides Master. Otherwise, even though you're right, you know what will happen."

For once in a millennium, HK kept silent. Tysyacha turned to the others.

"I have no idea where our mission should begin," she said, bowing her head to the poluvazhenie position. "If you were searching for the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy, who has disappeared, where would you look?"

"Well, let's ponder, shall we?" he murmured, "You're one of the single most powerful Jedi in all the galaxy, and are in hiding from the Republic for...unknown reasons. You could easily travel and lose yourself in the Unknown Regions - after all that's what any normal person would do, if they were desperate enough. But Revan isn't a normal person - he's much more clever than that."

He paused a moment, looking at Tysy. "Where better to hide than in plain sight?"

Kim raised an eyebrow at the mechanic's comment, and then she looked at Tysy. "So... not just a Force Sensitive, but a full-fledged Jedi, are you?" She grinned wryly. "See, I knew this job was going to be interesting."

She scanned the Galaxy Map with her eyes. "But Spanner-boy's right, captain," she said, referring to the mechanic. "A person would have to be pretty desperate to jus...."

She suddenly frowned then. "Wait a second...." She looked at the mechanic full on. "Did you say we're looking for Revan? The Revan? As in the one who caused mayhem and destruction across the Republic in the worst war there's been for centuries?" She let out a low whistle. "Yup, it gets more and more interesting every minute," she said under her breath.

She studied the Galaxy Map more closely. "See this bit here, Cap?" She pointed out to Tysy a spot on the map where there was absolutely nothing on the screen. "There's a system there with a few outposts that actually carry fuel for starships. They're pretty primitive, run mostly by smugglers and pirates that like to take a short cut around the outskirts of Hutt space. But if I were going to hide in the Unknown Regions, I'd've stopped there first to get my bearings and to resupply." Her eyes left the map and sought out the mechanic's once again. "But then again, who says Revan is hiding? He never struck me as the kind to turn tail and run. If he's out there in the Unknown Regions, I'd bet he at least has a plan and a purpose for being there."

She went over and sat in the pilot's chair, turning around to face the controls to prep the ship. "That's my two creds, anyway. But perhaps Spanner-boy knows more than he's letting on, eh?" She flipped a few switches, then grinned as she heard the engines begin to purr a bit more smoothly. Swiveling back around, she faced the rest of the group and waited for the captain to tell her where she wanted to go.

He allowed himself a wry smile. Spanner-boy? Did these people have no originality whatsoever?

At least it's better than Meatbag. he conceeded silently to himself. It had potential, he supposed.

"I was actually speaking of Revan, not Miss Ondova." he said, his blue eyes now trained on the seated pilot, "Revan has been in hiding for the past several years, leaving no trail whatsoever as to where he has gone. As one of the most imfamous Jedi and military strategist in the history of the Republic, I don't think he would have opted for hiding in the Outer Rim or beyond. No, that would be the first place that people would look. Should he find whatever he had been searching for...I would believe that he would find one of the best hiding places in the world - in plain sight. Someplace that would be so painfully obvious that no one in their right mind would believe that he had been hiding there. In that way, perhaps under an assumed identity, he would be able to plan his next move without being disturbed.

"I also believe that - no matter how far he has gone or whatever remote planets he has visited - he could not feesibly have been able to avoid hearing news of the state of the Republic. Even pirates and remote clans know of and care expressively about the state of a system of government and planets so large as this - after all, it could mean the source of new income, should it fall. He would have heard somehow, and I don't think he would ignore it."

Something clicked in Tysyacha's mind, abrupt and comforting, like the final piece of a puzzle assuming its destined position in a grand scheme. She turned her head to look at "Spanner-boy", at once confused, hopeful, and utterly shocked.

"Ne mozhet byt," she said quickly. "Ne mozhet byt! It can't be!" She shook her head, rubbed her blue eyes to clear the trace of water from them, shook her head again. There was no possible way that he could have--that he was here.

Even though her legs were suddenly becoming the consistency of kinrath mucus, she hurried to the cargo hold, where she and the former crew of the Hawk had honed their dueling skills. She set both of her gleaming white sabers to "soft heat", which she always used in practice mode. Through the Force, she sent out a message.

'Spanner-boy'. If you're really Revan, come to the cargo hold, if you can hear me. I know how to tell an imposter from the genuine article, because only Revan could beat me in a fair duel. He was the one who taught me how to use my shortsabers, before they both turned red as a laigrek's eye. Come, if you are not a fake or a coward!

The being called Lane had taken a seat at the central holoprojector and listened intently to the conversations between the new crewmembers, pointed ears perked up and gloved hands intertwined and arched in front of thin lips. The lips smiled as the ears monitored the unnamed man's words, picking up the subtle cues and mannerisms with which he spoke. As Lane expected, his words aroused a poignant interest in Tysyacha and she reacted quite strongly when she arrived at her minor epiphany. She quickly stood and headed off for the cargo bay, her fingers already grasping for the silver cylinders hanging from her belt.

Lane's booted feet set on the floor and raised the lithe body up, but did not follow the flustered Exile into the hold, instead propelling themeselves towards the cockpit of the freighter. The mismatched eyes alighted on the one called Kimber as the legs danced the body into the seat next to the pilot's. "It seems as if Ms. Odnova and our yet-unnamed party have something to discuss," the lips spoke, still singsong. "I wonder how long he will go without a name. Names are quite important to have." The eyes glanced at Kimber, a sudden seriousness flashing through them.

He picked the words out of the air, knowing that they were meant for him. His eyes shifted ever so infatismally towards where Tysy had taken off down the corridor, noting every word she called to him.

'Spanner-boy'. If you're really Revan, come to the cargo hold, if you can hear me. I know how to tell an imposter from the genuine article, because only Revan could beat me in a fair duel. He was the one who taught me how to use my shortsabers, before they both turned red as a laigrek's eye. Come, if you are not a fake or a coward!

Only Revan could beat her in a fair fight...then yes, she really was the Jedi Exile, if she remembered that. However, he didn't respond. He didn't move. To all others, it would seem as if nothing at all had transpired.

He hesitated a beat or two more, as if waiting for Tysy to return and explain her sudden ephiphany. When she did not, he looked at the droids and Rika.

"I suppose that now would be as good a time as any to begin getting settled in." he said, with a slight nod that could have been a parting bow. "So for now, I bid you adieu."

Departing down the corridor, he was careful not to look near the cargo hold as he neared it, turning down the side corridor just in front of it.

The cargo bay door slid open, revealing the dark-haired mechanic newly christened "Spanner-boy". Tysyacha was waiting, her two short silver sabers ignited and crossed close to her heart in a defensive position. The expression on her face was simultaneously calm and passionate, if such completely opposite emotions could exist together in one look and state of mind.

"Greetings," said Tysyacha, smiling, "or should I say, zdravstvuyte?"

Stravst-vit-tye. A formal way of saying "Good health to you," although a salutation that would be used between strangers, co-workers, or in older times, between servant and master. The servant, naturally, would be remiss and speaking impolitely without the -te ending, so why had the Jedi Exile kept it? Tysyacha herself knew why and yearned to either prove her suspicions correct or silence them once and for all. The time had come.

"I propose a duel," announced Tysyacha, her voice soft and level, "although not one to the death. You remind me of a former Master, the very Jedi whom we wish to find. Revan, who was known as Darth Revan before he became redeemed through Bastila Shan and the Jedi Council. Are you he, or not?

"In order to either prove or disprove my suspicions about your true identity, let us spar until one or the other yields from exhaustion or respect. Only Revan can beat me in a fair fight, because he's the one who taught me the Niman form of saber combat and to use my two most loyal allies." A wink.

"If I win, then that means you are not Revan, and I shall apologize for this sudden inconvenience upon you and all the rest of the crew. If you win, however--you get to name your price, and I, as Tysyacha Odnova, promise to honor it. Do we have a deal? I won't presume to call you 'Spanner-boy.'"

"You just did," said the mechanic with a wry half-grin, and Tysyacha laughed.

Get ready, she told herself. Fight harder than you've ever fought.

(PLACE EPIC DUEL HERE) *I can't write fight scenes worth a darn! Help!*

((XD, not to worry. You may not have to write one just yet.))

He needn't have turned around to know who it was standing in the doorway, watching him. The thrum of the sabers was the main give-away, though he suspected that he would have been able to identify her footsteps if the door had not ben closed. After her message had finished, he had thrown the basic barriers up around his mind once more - closing himself off completely.

Not a word slipped past his lips as she spoke to him - in fact, he hadn't turned to look at her. He stayed bent over the footlocker that he had dragged out from under the bunk that he had chosen for himself, a few of his items still in hand. He finished setting them into the storage container before he spoke.

"I don't see why you suddenly believe that I'm Revan." he murmured, standing and turning to her. "Me, of all the people in the galaxy...be Revan? Such an absurd idea - no offense meant, of course."

Tysyacha blushed, her face becoming hot with shame. She de-ignited her lightsabers.

"Of course it's an absurd idea," she mumbled. "You're exactly right. I suppose that my mind, both conscious and unconscious, is so eager to find Revan that it sees him in every human male with a similar look and build. I apologize for jumping to such a hasty conclusion, sir. The duel will not be necessary. I--" Confess it all, her heart said.

"Revan, as I said, was my former Master. However, I haven't told you of my true feelings for him. Even though there was another, in that dark seven-year interval between the Mandalorian Wars and the present day, Revan has always been my first love. Atton Rand and I could have been partners, but both of us were fools and did not admit how we felt until Atton--died." She took a deep breath, almost crying. "He had lost a duel with my second Master's apprentice, a monstrosity named Darth Sion. Sion tortured him to death, and he only said he loved me as he breathed his last."

Tysyacha wiped a tear from her eye. "As for Revan, I don't know where he is or even have the slightest theory where he could have gone. As for your saying 'what better place to hide than in plain sight?', my heart filled with hope, and it seems this hope has betrayed me. Your being Revan is as impossible an idea as a round square or a skinny bantha!" She laughed a little, but the man didn't find the joke to be so funny.

"Forgive me. I should have been professional about this, but I let my passion overtake me. Jedi are supposed to be masters of self-control, of objectivity and discipline, and most of all, of compassionate detachment to others and duty to the galaxy itself. Perhaps this is why I failed--I, the Jedi Exile as I'm known, could not truly fulfill the responsibilities and meet the standards I swore to uphold when I became a Knight.

"As for Revan, I still truly love him, and I want to tell him before either he or I die."

There. She'd said it, and there was no turning back. No explanations, no apologies, and certainly no denial of a single word as "testimony under duress". 'Spanner-boy', as was his un-name, simply stood and watched, his look a mix of curiosity and something else. Something warm and sympathetic, un-judgmental, waiting for her to embrace it.

"It seems as if Ms. Odnova and our yet-unnamed party have something to discuss," the lips spoke, still singsong.

Kimber turned her head to look down the corridor down which Tysyacha and the mechanic had disappeared just moment earlier. "Apparently so," she murmured to Lane.

She was confused about what had just happened, but being as she didn't yet know the crew that well, she pushed aside the temptation to go and find out what her new captain and the enigmatic engineer were doing. As gregarious as she was, it certainly didn't seem polite to be nosy at the present moment. With a shuddering and dismissive shake of her head, she turned back to console, taking time to familiarize herself with the controls.

"I wonder how long he will go without a name. Names are quite important to have." The eyes glanced at Kimber, a sudden seriousness flashing through them.

Kim nodded. "And, for some, a name can be quite the private thing to disclose," she replied. "I mean, a personal name can not only denote someone's planet of origin or social status, but in some cases, their entire family's history. Perhaps he has something to hide." She paused for a moment, trying to gauge what reason the near-human had for choosing an alias. "As for me," she continued, "I've never had anything to hide about my family. Quitaan's an old and well-respected name on Corellia, goes back centuries. And as I'm quite proud of my Corellian heritage, there's really no reason for me to go by anything other than Kimber Quitaan."

She glanced askance at Lane. "So, why did you choose 'Lane' as your name?" she asked cautiously. "Any particular reason? Special significance? Or did you just like the sound of it?"

"So, why did you choose 'Lane' as your name? Any particular reason? Special significance? Or did you just like the sound of it?"

The lips curved into another smile. "As I said, it is a far better moniker to go by than 'that pointy-eared rogue'," they replied. Lane lifted a thumb and forefinger to stroke at an ear absentmindedly. "I think it's a fairly decent name," the lips continued. "Clean, unobtrusive. Definitely one of the better ones I have gone by." Lane paused, lithe fingers at the tip of the long ear. "Do you like it?" the lips asked of Kimber, the eyes focusing on the Corellian pilot again.

Kimber took a moment to consider. Odd, she thought to be asked by someone she had just met if she liked an alias name or not. "Yeah," she said after a moment. "I guess I like it well enough. It's simple, short, and easy to say. A bit ambiguous, but..." She eyed Lane over, and then grinned. "...it seems to suit you."

She flipped a button on the control panel, bringing up the nav charts. "So, you're a scout, right? You must know, like I do, some of the 'pit stops' that aren't on the standard nav charts. While our captain is away, let's fill in a bit of our charts, shall we? It might save us some time later."

She punched in some co-ordinates for an apparent empty space on the chart. "Novafront," she said, entering from memory the basic information for the new planet entry. "Or at least that's what the locals called it. See, I've got some of the co-ordinates memorized for the places we went to in the Unknown Regions, but they're all in relation to known worlds. Like Corellia. And not just because it's my home world, but because it's got a lot of hyperspace lane intersections." Her eyes quickly flicked from the console to Lane. "So, where's your home planet?" she asked casually.

The lips paused, not answering Kimber's question immediately. They parted, as if ready to speak, then closed again. The mismatched eyes closed and the thin, small nose took a deep breath. "I do not have a planet to call 'home'," the lips finally said, a bit quieter than before. "I do not recall much of my youth, but the little that I do tells me I was born in space."

Lane's thin fingers alighted on the Ebon Hawk's console, quietly typing. A holographic display of the galaxy sprang up, similar to the one in the common room. At Lane's touch, the display zoomed in on a section of the Inner Rim. "The first reliable memories I have are of this area," the lips spoke as the hands gestured. "But it does not feel like home." The fingers manipulated the controls a little bit more, focusing the display out of the Inner Rim and resettling it on the border between the Outer Rim and the Unknown Regions. The lips parted, again as if about ready to speak, but as before, they closed without saying anything.

As Kimber examined the area on the galaxy map that Lane was showing her, she asked, "So, does that place feel like home then?" She racked her brain. "As I remember, and don't hold me to this, but... I think there was a planetary system about..." She pointed to a particular spot. "...there. Binary system, six planets, two habitable--one temperate, and the other icy, cold and rocky." She frowned slightly. "Although, it could be there, too," she pointed to another spot slightly away from her first guess.

She looked at Lane. "Are you familiar with that sector? Last time I was there, we were doing survey work for some Republic archaeologists. Daft people," she added, with a roll of her eyes. "Always thinking that they're 'discovering' something new, when really they're just uncovering something that been there for thousands of years."

"I'm not familiar at all with that sector," the lips told Kimber. "No one really is, that's why they're called the Unknown Regions." The smile had returned to the lips, and the eyes twinkled with merriment. "As you said, they've been there for thousands of years, but yet we still think we're discovering something new. Why is that? Why do we know so little about the Unknown Regions?" Lane brought thin fingers to the lips, stroking them thoughtfully. "Or maybe the question we should be asking is why Revan wants to know so much about them? After all, he doesn't do things without a purpose. And to go into unknown territories without a purpose doesn't seem like something one of the greatest tactical minds this galaxy has known would do, does it?" Lane's head flicked to the side, sending tousled hair flying. "Oh how I'd love to pick that man's brain for a day or two..."

(( Happy Birthday, Jasra! Hope your day isn't too busy and that you get some good R&RP time. :) ))

((OOC: @R9--Thanks! I did. :) ))

"Well, I just thought that if you were a scout that you might have been in that area before," Kimber said to Lane. "Lots of scouts keep their information secret." She tapped her temple with her index finger. "Suppose that keeps them 'self-important' in their minds. They wouldn't dare put co-ordinates into any type of navicomputer, in case their 'secret' got out. But eventually, all secrets get out. Otherwise, the Republic would still be just the Core Worlds, right?"

She finished inputting the co-ordinates to the planet she was adding to the Galaxy Map, and started to input another. "As far as a purpose to go into the Unknown Regions? Well, there's only two possible reasons I can see. One, is for money. New hyperspace routes to get from one place to another faster, or perhaps discover a new planet of resources to exploit, or even a new sentient species to trade with. Even the archaeologists have money as their motive. They get funded by rich, bored aristocrats to go and find these 'objects' of art to bring back with them. They might 'say' it's for an existential purpose, but it all boils down to just plain money in the end. Credits make the Galaxy go 'round, even way out there.

"Second reason why someone would travel out that far is just for the adventure." She smiled. "That's my reason. I just want to know what's out there--just for the hell of it. Same reason that some folks climb a tall mountain--because it's there and they can.

"As far as Revan's reasons, well.... Revan was a Jedi, so he probably has knowledge of things that the average person wouldn't. You know, I've even heard that some Jedi can see into the future. Imagine that. I mean, if you knew that a particular event was going to happen in the future, could you change it? Or would it happen anyway, but just by a different method?" She snorted. "Force stuff. It's all pretty mystic to me. Guess Revan's reasons wouldn't be exactly 'normal' though, now would they?"

She paused with what she was doing to give Lane a quizzical kind of look. "Just let me know if I'm talking too much, okay? I don't know you well enough yet to have those periods of 'comfortable silences.'" She winked. "But, don't worry. They'll happen eventually."

((Happy birthday Jas! ^.^ Sorry I haven't replied - the wedding has kept me out of reach of a conputer for the past few days >.<))

He watched her with a look of confusion, compassion, and...something that he had to fight to keep carefully hidden. Otherwise, he kept himself quite detatched - as he always did. He had to, for the greater good.

Listening to Tysyacha's empassioned tale caused his expression to grow softer with understanding. When she had finished, he moved slightly closer to her, holding out a hand in pity.

"It is no easy task to be parted from a loved one for any great length of time." he continued forward to lightly put his hands on her shoulders as he spoke again. "However, I think that your problem...is that you need to have a little more confidence in yourself. You've stayed alive thus far by relying on little more than yourself and a few companions - have some faith now."

He held her gaze a second longer before he turned around, moving back towards the foot locker. "Now, I believe that you have a very eager pilot awaiting your orders." he looked over his shoulder at her, "The sooner our search begins, the better."

Tysyacha nodded, feeling emboldened not only by the mechanic's kind words, but his touch as well. She re-holstered her two sabers and bowed to him apologetically.

"You're right," she said, her near-whisper sounding stalwart. "I can't afford a loss of faith now, not with everyone on board and ready to possibly sacrifice themselves on this great adventure. A captain leads, after all, and part of leading is boosting morale. Let's get back to the cockpit, and I think it makes sense to take you up on your suggestion of Nar Shaddaa as a hiding place, or launching point, for Revan. Another crime-ridden cesspit, I know, but I have a contact there." The mechanic nodded, and he and Tysyacha strolled up to Kimber's chair. The expanse of stars waited silently.

"Kimber," said Tysyacha, "our mechanic friend here believes that Nar Shaddaa might be a good starting point in looking for Revan. I know it's one more disreputable ball of rock, riddled with the poorest of the poor interspersed with members of the Exchange, but there is a sentient rodent, Kala-Naa, who sees and hears everything that goes in and out of the upper floors of the planet. If anyone might have seen our Jedi target, it would be her." Tysyacha crossed her fingers and winced when HK-47 proved helpful:

"Condescending Question: You're going to interrogate a rat for information? Seems like a viable plan to me. After all, it might do us good to exterminate that bit of vermin."

"Hey, HK," grumbled the Jedi Exile. "Zakroitye vash rot. Shut your mouth."

"Ah! You are addressing me by the respectful form of vy. Excellent, Master."

Tysyacha swore that the next time Rika did repairs on that particular "protocol droid", she'd make sure that Rika put his vocabulator in backwards or at least on "silent".

As for "silent", the rest of the crew was, including Kimber. What would she suggest?

Kimber nodded thoughtfully. "Kala-Naa? Heard the name, but never met him. Her. It." She shrugged. "Whatever."

She started to input the co-ordinates for Nar Shaddaa into the navicomputer. "But Nar Shaddaa... I can get us there no bother, Cap'n. Been there lots of times. Not exactly on the 'tourist trail'," she added, as the engines started to rev up. "But, even cruise ships need someplace cheap to resupply and refuel. And the Corellian sector is great for that." She winked. "Especially since I'm a member of the trade Guild."

The ship rose from the docking platform with grace and ease, and then left the surface of the planet. In a few minutes, they had broken the atmosphere. "Okay, we're about to enter into hyperspace," Kimber said through the shipwide comlink. "Please stow away all personal belongings in the overhead compartments, ensure your seat is in its upright position and that your seatbelt is fastened securely. Next stop, Nar Shaddaa."

She turned over her shoulder to look at Tysyacha, and gave her a silly grin. "Sorry. Old habit." She looked at Lane sitting next to her. "Ok, here we go...."

And then she shoved the throttle forward, taking the Ebon Hawk into hyperspace.

Hyperspace travel was, according to Tysyacha, the most incredible blessing that space engineers and explorers had ever given to the galaxy. Within a few hours instead of days or even weeks and months, the newest crew of the Ebon Hawk found themselves sliding onto an unoccupied landing pad on the world of Nar Shaddaa, "unoccupied" meaning "slightly unused, crumbling, but still relatively safe."

Tysyacha smiled apologetically at the wary expressions on everyone else's faces. "Sorry," she said, "but this planet's not exactly famous for its infrastructure. Only the Exchange, which I hope is in disarray since I helped to stabilize things here, might have safer landing pads. Foreigners, visitors, and the commonfolk have always had to make do with whatever the Nar Shaddaa government can afford to offer them."

She, Rika Saben, Kimber Quitaan, Lane, and the still-unnamed mechanic exited the Hawk down the loading ramp and started walking toward the center of the upper floor of town. Down below were--seedier elements, so to speak, even more so than the Exchange, and the most destitute of the working class and unemployed. Vermin swarmed heavily in the depths of the planet, and monsters no one had yet named. There was no law on Nar Shaddaa below the true "living spaces" of the planet, and no hope. It was comparable to the depths of a mythical Hell some Earthlings believed in.

"Kala-Naa should be over near the front door of the main cantina," Tysyacha said, pointing. "She's rather inconspicuous, but I can pick up her rodent scent clearly." Grimaces were seen on a couple of crew members' faces, but the Exile smiled. "Don't worry. Kala-Naa keeps herself clean, and she doesn't carry any diseases or plagues."

Reassured (or at least partially so), the five strolled over to the outskirts of a garish-looking cantina. Tysyacha was surprised, or more than surprised, to see that Kala-Naa had built herself a nest near the door. Baby mice peeked their heads out from beneath its bantha-fodder material, and Kala-Naa suddenly came running out and squeaking.

"My babies! Don't touch them, human scum, or I'll bite you--Oh! It's you, the kind lady who visited me two years ago and gave me 2,000 credits to get in very good with the Exchange." Surprised looks from the crew. "I not judge you. You just not want to get on their bad side, and you did good things too. Like save that one girl from Hutt spice
camp, along with mum. What you want this time? More information?" A toothy smile.

Tysyacha nodded. "Kala-Naa, I'd like you to spend some time thinking back, far back, and see if you can remember a man. He had dark hair and was tall, having a scent of power about him and a leader's stride." A pause. "He might have even been wearing a scary mask." She preferred not to think about those dark times, but they had existed.

Kala-Naa started squeaking excitedly. "Scary man! Scary man not hurt me, although I thought he would. I saw scary man in mask. He was looking for someone or something. Who or what could it be? Anyway, I heard him say to someone near him, with bald head and nasty purple sections on it, that he would soon find the place, on a dark planet, where 'there was no darkness'. He headed for light, when all else was black. Where could that be--black planet? Kala-Naa not know of any black planets around."

"Darkness means evil, too," said Tysyacha. "A dark planet. Malachor? Was that it?"

"Mal-ee-kor dead. This planet live--I think. So far, far away that Kala-Naa's head spin just thinking about it. I listen more, but I hear mumbles and more mumbles. Sorry." She bowed her furry head. "Wait--it that way." The rodent pointed decisively.

"Jeering Statement: A black hole? Master, this surpasses ridiculousness. Let us leave."

Kimber listened intently as the rodent-like creature known as Kala-Naa spoke to Tysy and the rest of them in broken Basic. When she came to the part of the black planet where there was no darkness, Kim frowned slightly. But when the rat indictated the direction of this mysterious planet by pointing in a particular direction, Kim slowly raised a querying brow.

"Ah, relational co-ordinates," she said in a low tone to Lane. "My absolute fave. Not."

"Jeering Statement: A black hole? Master, this surpasses ridiculousness. Let us leave."

Kimber couldn't help but grin at the assassin droid's statement. "Not a black hole, but...." She paused. "Maybe... maybe a system with binary stars? You know, a planet where there isn't ever any darkness because light always shines on its surface?" She wracked her brain. "I remember coming across an uncharted system with binary stars during my travels with my last crew. Not that we actually went to any of the planets there. I mean, they might not even be habitable. I just remember seeing the system and recall the gravitational fluctuations that indicated there must be planets in orbit around the twin suns. It was most unusual."

She looked at Tysy, and shrugged. "Just a thought, anyway." Then she gave a sideways glance at Kala-Naa. "A lot easier than trying to work out relational co-ordinates from a pointing fin..." Rats didn't exactly have 'fingers'. "Erm, pointing digit."

Rika had kept toward the back of the group, listening to the conversations and information from Kala-Naa. As Kimber commented on her prior proximity to the uncharted system with binary stars, Rika smirked.

"Perhaps we could use a combination," she suggested. "Compare Kala-Naa's relational coordinates with your recollection of the coordinates of the binary system. If they match with some relative success, we have a heading. If not..." She frowned. "I have... contacts we could try. However, unless it proves absolutely necessary to call my contacts, I should prefer to avoid them... long story."

The lips pursed, pensive. "Twin stars, eh?" they said as thin fingers stroked a stray wisp of long, sandy hair. "There be quite a few twin stars in this nook of the Galaxy. It would be prudent to have a bit more criteria to work with... though if we're dealing with the Unknown Territories, we might as well be going in blind as a mynock." The eyes were alight with amusement, despite the lips' ominous words.

Tysyacha turned to Kala-Naa for the second time. "I know it's been more than two years, perhaps even more than five, since you last saw the 'scary man', but we need a little bit more to go on than that, Kala-Naa." The Exile smiled. "Don't worry. I'll reward you for your troubles, and you can be sure that as long as I'm around here, your babies won't get hurt." She dropped to one knee to be at eye level with the gregarious female rodent. "Anything?"

Kala-Naa gazed deeply into the eyes of the Ebon Hawk's desperate captain. "Let me see. Scary man was talking with bald head man, and they were saying something like, 'all black, all darkness, then light. All shall be light.' Kala-Naa not understand everything they were saying, though. She do her best. As for planets--something like Pal. Pal-um. Pall-a-dum." A pause.

"Palladium." This was a wild guess on Tysyacha's part, but a guess was better than nothing. "There are few planets in the galaxy that supply this scarce Earth metal, and one that is entirely made of palladium would be--"

"Impossible." This from the Exile's most favorite droid. "Shall I terminate her?"

"No." Tysyacha ignited her lightsaber and held it dangerously close to HK's chest. "The trace Force signature here is one of almost Earthlike proportions--mass, density, environment--but it's not Earth. It used to be a 'light' world, inhabited by peaceful beings, but now every single inhabitant has perished except for one and his or her followers. Sort of like Nihilus and Visas Marr."

The Exile turned to her crew. "Well? Do you think I should be in an asylum?"

Kimber raised an eyebrow. "An asylum? You, Cap'n? No." She looked askance at Kala-Naa. "Though I'll reserve judgement for... erm, any others." She cleared her throat and quickly continued. "But an entire planet of palladium.... Well, I'd have to agree with the droid on that one. Sounds pretty impossible to me, but, then again, in the Unknown Regions who knows what's possible and what's not.

"But to have that much palladium in one place...." Her brow wrinkled as she considered the possiblities. "The amount of cold-fusion power that could be generated would be nothing less than astronomical."

Tysyacha nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, Kala-Naa, but none of what you're saying seems to be making any sense. Would you like some credits to--erm, help support you and your family?" She hoped the rodent wouldn't take offense at her offer of 200.

"Thank you, kind soul," Kala-Naa said, taking the proferred credits with a dainty, pawlike hand. "I owe much to you. However, I am afraid. If you go after scary man, you might die. He not be headed for any place good--that's for sure. Kala-Naa could smell the anger and the hatred running off of him. Please be careful, sweet tall one."

"I will." She shook Kala-Naa's paw and turned to the others, especially Rika Saben.

"Well. It seems this contact hasn't panned out as much as I thought it would. Rika? You said you had contacts as well, and we might need to consider them a bit."

"I have one contact," Rika corrected. "And she has a galactic network from which she gathers information beyond anything passed on by word of mouth... and often, her information is far more accurate than Republic intelligence. Though lately, that isn't much of a compliment. Her information is good."

She hesitated for a moment. "I should offer some kind of warning, though. Katya Skyhawk has attempted to kill me at least six times before..."

Kala-Naa squealed. It was obvious she'd heard the name. Indeed, very few in the galaxy had not heard of Katya Skyhawk. "Bad name! But it is legend. None have seen a face."

"I have seen a face," Rika answered sternly. "Katya Skyhawk is very real, a flesh and bones human being."

"Many faces she is said to have," Kala-Naa whispered. Rika nodded.

"Disguises," she agreed. "Some say she is not one woman, but many. Lies."

"I fear..." Kala-Naa began, but Rika frowned sternly down at the little creature.

"I am far more familiar with Katya than anyone has a right to be," she said quietly. Turning to Tysyacha, she finished, "I know her tricks. We can have the advantage here. We just have to be careful."

Part Two: The Dvukh Ultimatum

Tysyacha felt an odd, hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. Words such as evil and terrorist briefly flashed through her mind, subconsciously associating themselves with the not-so-innocuous name of Katya Skyhawk. However, what did such concepts mean anymore? Both the Jedi and the Sith, she remembered, used these ideas to further their own agendas, Light and Dark. Being careful was exactly what one had to do in this ambiguous day and age, dangling by a spider's thread.

"It's a mistake to seek help from this Katya," said the Exile, "but at this point, it's a mistake I am personally willing to make. If there is a price to be paid for Ms. Skyhawk and her full cooperation in locating Revan, I will pay it. Any cost that comes with this mission will lie on my head." She turned to the crew. "If any of you object to this, I'll let you back out. Something tells me that this is what the sages meant when they coined the phrase 'necessary evil'. The Force tells me that Katya knows what we so desperately need to know as well, but if we seek her out, the cost will be very high."

Words from Master Kavar, long-buried, came back to warn her. If you must do evil for the sake of the greater good, Tysyacha, then humbly, gladly, and fully accept every consequence. If there is guilt to be felt, feel it, if a penalty to pay, pay it.

"If you stand with me, we could all fall together. Are you sure you'll take this course?"

"Fall? I'm a pilot. Pilots don't 'fall'. Not ever." A slow grin manifested itself onto Kimber's full lips. "They crash and burn sometimes, yeah, but they never just 'fall'."

She gave a look at the others. "I'm in this for the adventure. And if part of that adventure is seeking out some 'necessary evil' in the form of a mysterious ill-tempered woman called Katya Skyhawk, then so be it. I agreed to be a part of this, and I never break my word. Besides, I've been in dangerous situations before." She looked down at the bloodstripes on her trousers. "CorSec don't give these out for selling cookies, you know."

She smiled at her captain, her enthusiasm to get going visible and clear. "So, as long as you and Rika can find this 'woman of a thousand faces', necessary evil or not, I'm in. Lead the way."