Gabriel sighed, looking around.

"Alright, well, let me see..." He tried to find a logo somewhere of the piloting complex surrounding him. Disappointed by bare walls and no signs, Gabriel sighed again.

"Well, I can't see anything... Wait... Hold on a sec, Lynne." Gabriel suddenly remembered the fact that he was Jezir. Jezir worked here, and thus, he must have an ID file.

Already being an accomplished computer geek, Gabriel had no trouble deciphering the data-pad that he had found in his room earlier. Pushing a few buttons here and there, he soon found what he was looking for- the name of the company.

"Well, I don't know how much this will help," he spoke into his comlink, "But I'm at the A.W.S. Piloting Base. I don't see many signs around, but... If I can just- Ah! A map, hold on one second... It's at the corner of Hendroks and Norzmott. Can you find that?"

((Lol, all those names are completely made up. I love making up names! (btw, AWS stands for Aerospace Weapons and Ships... It was a quick composition, at most.)))

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

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Qui Gon had to smile at this.

“I suppose you are right my young padawen,” he said, “We haven’t exactly been a good example of methodically executed routine missions. I believe that we may run into more than your ordinary thief on the lower levels, but it is just an idea.”

Briefly glancing back down at his datapad, he laughed quietly. Obi Wan was never one to be fooled, much too bright for that.



One. Two. Three. Four.

Bant quietly counted under her breath, an uncertain pause after every number. Her slender hand tremored involuntarily, and her large eyes were glazed with uncertainty.

Five. Six. Seven...

The counting slowed to an irregular stop: Bant took a breath and relaxed. It was over. The need was over.

When one of fellow padawen’s had told her of counting when the need to vent emotion came over her; she had thought it a load of junk, and no less. But it actually helped; and rather than worry her new master with inexpressible feelings, she could list her reasons to cry, number them, forget them, and be done with it.

“Is everything alright?” Kit Fisto asked with some concern in his voice. The troubled expression that came over Bant sometimes worried him; especially since it was so recent since Tahl’s death. He knew all too well how much she had loved her.

Rising slowly to her feet, Bant gazed more steadily in Kit’s direction. “Yes master,” she said, making a poor attempt at being cheerful, “We are going to meet the Senatorial Aide today, are we not?”

Although Kit was still bothered by her absent staring, he merely nodded, and smiled genuinely in return.

“We are; I’ve arranged for us to have breakfast with him. We can discuss the day’s mission quietly before our research begins.” For just a moment he paused and turned away, before adding quietly, “Are you sure you are alright?”

Still feigning a smile, Bant nodded, and mentally added Eight.

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"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Obi-Wan laughed dryly as he talked around a spoonful of cereal.

"Well, I think that this would be a wonderful time to start some routine missions. I don't know about you, but I am plenty tired of seeing every last one of the galaxy's prison cell variations." Although this would probably draw a laugh from most, Obi-Wan was dead serious. "Is there a set time for this 'routine mission'? I think I might have to get in some meditation on optimism before we set out." Now Obi-Wan was just joking, however it was in a rather ironic manner.

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

((A thousand apologies! I had a killer week, and then I was gone all of today. (And I tried to start a post earlier, but then my computer froze and I lost it )))

Several replies -most of which were decidedly sarcastic and not entirely optimistic- entered Lynne's mind, but out loud she merely said, "Sure. We'll talk more when I find you, then." She didn't bother to mention that she had no idea where 'Hendroks and Norzmott' was, nor that the entire blasted planet was one massive city. "Durnin out."

Ending the transmission, Lynne tucked the comlink into a pouch on her belt and set about quickly strapping on the armor and weapons she had discovered earlier. She'd first hesitated to arm herself with unfamiliar weapons, but she reasoned that it was better to have a weapon she didn't know how to use than to have no weapon at all. Checking everything over once, she quickly strode out of the room and down the hall, past the still-scowling Besalisk, who belowed something about how she better come back with rent as she passed by. Lynne barely paid attention, being far more interested in just finding her way out of the run-down building. If she was remembering correctly, Ailyn had a - ah, there it was. Hidden behind a heap of junk (and looking rather like it belonged in the heap itself) was an old speederbike of questionable safety and dependability. However, it was the only readily available means of transportation, and so after a few attempts to get it to start, Lynne took off.

Forty-five minutes, seventeen near-death experiences, eight traffic violations, five stops for directions, and countless curses in various languages later, Lynne finally found herself at a large hangar that looked most like Gabriel's descriptions. Stashing the bike yet again, she began searching until she found someone who looked vaguely familiar. "You would be taller," she said by way of greeting, coming up behind Gabriel/Jezir.

((Found this all the way on page 3, I did. Hmph. Shameful, that is.))

((Shameful indeed... I had begun to wonder... Now we'll have to wait for FM to show up. ))

Gabriel whipped around, startled.

"Well thank you oh so much for scaring me out of my skin..." He began, for the first time looking down to talk to someone. Examining Lynne, or rather, Ailyn, Gabriel noted the similarities between her and a very angry wookie.

"You don't look too happy." He said bluntly, raising his eyebrows.

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"I'm ecstatic," Lynne shot back dryly. "I don't suppose you'd be the one to ask what the kriff is going on?"

Gabriel sighed. Well, at least she hadn't changed much.

"Alright, Mrs. Grumpy Guss. And no, I would defiantly not be one to ask." He glanced around. "Do you think we should go to the jedi about this?"

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

"'Hey, Master Yoda, sir, umm...I know you're kinda busy with Jedi business, defending the galaxy and all, but...we're lost. Could you kindly point the way to reality?'" Lynne said satirically. "No. I'm still just waiting to wake up, really....Unrelatedly, I don't suppose you've seen Josh anywhere? This insanity wouldn't be complete without him, you know."

Gabirel laughed at her unreal conversation with the Jedi.

"Well, he might just point you in the direction of an insane asylum." He laughed again, this time with a dry edge. "No, I haven't seen him anywhere... Who do you think he'd be posing as?" Gabriel looked around, expecting their dear friend to pop out of the woodwork any second. "Or do you think he'd just be Josh, the only one who gets the relatively sane portion of this nightmare?"

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This 'Senator's Aide' business wasn't hardly what it was cracked out to be. For one thing, there were the karking robes. Josh couldn't have imagined being any more uncomfortable sitting in a suit wove of cactus nettles. Too, there was the cheesy way you had to be so polite about everything! I feel more like a gentleman's butler than a walking brain that continually aides this galaxy, he thought bitterly. And finally there was his datapad that didn't even work!

"Make it work!!" he demanded in no patient tone to the droid.

"I'm sorry master, but I'm not a datapad technician. And you're late for breakfast already."

"I can't do this without my datapad! Don't you get it, you little machine thing?! I've got to have my datapad!"

"I'm sorry Master Whit, shall I send it in for repair immediately?"

Josh answered in something probably not entirely appropriate for a polite droids ears, and considered the possibility of running away. But where would one run to in this insane universe? And even more important, what would run into?

Miserably he sighed, and walked into the adjoining dining room. He ran his fingers through his hair half a dozen times, and tried to rack his brain as to what he was going to tell these Jedi. I'm not Whit Nkael, I'm just some lousy teenager from a universe that is... far, far away? He groaned, and looked up only to meet the eyes of a ...Mon Calamari?

"Dejection does not become you Nkael," Kit observed with a small smile. "Was your night a difficult one?"

Laughing short and humorlessly, Josh nodded to the two Jedi. "Yes Master Fisto, it was."


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"Perhaps a better attitude would be in order," Qui-Gon admonished quietly, while tucking his datapad away. "And, if you are ready, I see no harm in leaving immediately."

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"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Obi-Wan nodded.

"Alright. Now, remind me again what this 'routine mission' is about?"

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

“Speed bike thefts,” Qui Gon said. “We will take a speeder to the lower levels, more specifically Zuzna Speeders. There have been a series of rather unconventional thefts there. We’re to investigate the source.”

[SG, you can go ahead and skip to being in the Speeder whenever you wish.]

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"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."