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| - Wampa Lounge -- The Angry Rancor The nexus and reception center of this luxurious ship is an open-space extravaganza, replete with plush seating and decor of impeccable taste and decadence. The lounge is large, a vault, and boasts a segmented glass ceiling that allows passengers to view the starscape while in transit. The ribs of the structure are articulated in pleasing curves with pewter moldings of creatures from all over the galaxy, like gargoyles at stress points. The stained oak-panelled walls harbor display cases for animals of various sizes and environments, each cage fitted with an informational plaque next to it. Tables are situated throughout the room and draped in red velvet tablecloths, many being dangerously close to the cages housing the exotic animals. A bar rests at the end of the vault, offering a variety of drinks, and gold droids move about frequently to refill the stray glass or empty plate. In one corner, tucked away behind lush foliage is a huge mahagany-panelled hot tub and sauna. All in all, an amazing space with amazing views and the ultimate in spacefaring comfort and enjoyment. ____________________________________________________________________________ There has been much thinking. After his conversation the other day with Simon, Markus finds himself aimlessly wandering the Angry Rancor. "What if he is right... What if it is part of our nature?", the Corellian finds himself mumbling out loud. "No...", he slowly shakes his head. It can't be right. Keeping the 'evil', as Simon called it under control does not make one less powerful. Markus sighs, slowly shaking his head as he finds a place on one of the couches, close to the exit leading to the hangar area. His friend may not have realized it at the moment, but that conversation had a deeper effect on the young man than what he showed to Simon. Markus runs a head through his hair, and leans back, trying to relax himself. "And why am I giving so much importance to this stuff, anyway. It isn't like it affects me. Simon said he wasn't sure..." Denial. The spaciousness of the lounge allows Luke to enter without much notice or fanfare at first as he enters from the hangar bay, the cowl of his cloak pulled up to conceal his face from anyone who might recognize him right away. He strides in, not hastily, but with purpose nonetheless. Pausing before a row of caged animals, he pulls back the hood, apparently not heeding any concern about being noticed, and peers across the lounge towards two men carrying on a conversation some distance away. Mira wanders into the lounge from the hangar bay, having just woken up. After waking up, the girl had a tendency to forget where it was she had fallen asleep, and what exactly she was doing there. And it usually took her a little while to reacclimate to her surroundings. It is in this state that she wanders into the room, looking around and blinking sleepily. And the fact that this was a new place to her was not helpful. It was much easier to figure out what was going on when she was back home on Corellia. Now the mornings made her think entirely too much, and she wasn't coping with it yet. But at the moment, the girl is too dazed to be cranky. Like Markus, Simon has had much to think about since their discussion. Had it been right to bring he and the girl to the Jedi? It was a long time ago that the ancient order had brought some hope to the _Selas_ of Telgosse, and since then, they had been all but exterminated. Could the Jedi train Markus and Mira any greater than the _Selas_? If the Jedi accepted the curse without respecting the danger and acknowledging the nature of being tied to the True Source, then it could be that the _Selas_ way exceeded that of the Jedi. If Simon was wrong to escort Markus and Mira here... but they would have come on their own, wouldn't they? So much to think about... And Simon does think about these things as he walks. The confines of the _White Ghost_ were still much like a prison, and Simon had chosen the arena to mull over his thoughts. He enters the lounge from that direction, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes pointed toward the floor in front of his feet. In his current state, Markus is not really paying attention to things around him, so he completely missed Luke's entrance, not that he would have inmediately recognized the Jedi right away anyway, and Simon's. Yet for some reason, the Corellian finds himself up and picking up Mira among those coming in from the hangar area. "Mira!", he calls out, standing up and hoping to catch the girl's attention. Mira. For some strange reason, Markus found himself developing a very strange relationship with the girl. Even in his demeanor, the way he moves, one may be assume the white haired man is the girl's brother. The almost constantly sarcastic brown eyes, seem to sparkle whenever Markus sees the girl around. Not even the man himself can explain this, the same way that he can't explain the strong friendship that seems to be developing with Simon. It is almost as if it were their destiny. Sighing, the Jedi Master runs his fingers back through his hair distractedly as his strides begin to take him toward the bridge of the ship. But he pauses when he comes near Simon, and smiles at the man in a friendly way that hides any deeper perceptions Luke may have. "The captain must be around somewhere," he says absently, almost to himself though it's clear he wants those around him to hear. "I was supposed to meet with some people on board, so I'm hoping they left a message for me." Weary, flight-worn eyes take in the sensory barrage of the Angry Rancor's lounge as Feylin pushes through the doors. Concern, panic and diligant searching has brought her back to this ship, on her journey to find a friend she was afraid that she had lost. After Fey's last stay on the Rancor, she was quite sure that she'd never find herself aboard the vessel again. But, life holds strange fates indeed, and here she stands, scanning the crowd for a lost face. After a moment's fruitless observation, she slips her hands into the pockets at her hips and presses forth through the sentients that thickly populate the lounge. Distracted as he was with his own thoughts, Simon looks up with surprise at Luke's approach, and blinks with a blank expression at the stranger. There were many crewman on this luxurious ship, and Simon had avoided many of them in pursuit of his own thoughts. That one should approach him... but this man wasn't dressed as a crewman. At first glance, Simon is reminded more of the recently met Tarroc D'agor than the Twi'lek crewman he'd glanced in from a distance. His attire didn't look much like the typical garments of the spacers he'd come in contact with over the last year. And clipped to his belt... It must be one of Jedi Luke Skywalker's students, like Ethan. Had the blind man brought them to some sort of Jedi school? "I have not seen the captain," Simon says in his usual accent, his words slightly slurred together. "There are many people on this ship, though. Who is it you look for, Traveller?" Well, Mira completely ignores him, as she appears to be to taken by the sights on the lounge to have picked up Markus. Instead of it bothering him, the young man simply smiles. Mira needed a break from everything that was going on around her and she seemed not to comprehend. With a slight shrug, the Corellian turns around. And he picks up Simon in the distance, talking to some stranger. Markus slightly shrugs, and after nod sets up himself in the direction of his companion and the other, a curious expression on his face. "Hey, Simon.", Markus calls out, after he gets in range with the other two. It's obvious to Luke that Simon's gaze has included the lightsaber that's clipped to his belt, and he easily meets the tall stranger's eyes. Hands folded calmly beneath his cloak, Luke inclines his head. "A group of people, actually. They're being hailed as heroes." A small tug of a smile threatens to break his expression, paradoxically bringing into focus the well-concealed weariness and melancholy that hide behind the Jedi Master's eyes. "That's why I'm here." Simon regards Luke as he speaks, his blue eyes meeting Luke's without fear or pretentiousness. A student of the Jedi was much like a _Selas_, after all, and this man didn't give off the sense of danger that Simon associated with the _Selas_ Fallen, or The Hunter. Smiling, Simon breaks his gaze from Luke to regard Markus as the white haired Corellian approaches and greets. The feelings of friendship Markus had for Simon were apparently mutual, and with only a small amount of awkwardness, Simon raises a hand to wave back to the man. It's then that Luke's words penetrate Simon's thoughts, and he turns his eyes back to Luke's, his smile failing. "Heroes?" he repeats. With the thought, Simon is reminded of the slight, lingering sourness in his ribs. The man surely meant to meet he and Markus and Mira, but... why? He had to be sure. "What do these heroes look like?" Almost as soon as Luke pushes his cloak's hood back, Feylin's eyes are drawn to the familiar blond almost immediately. A stunned gasp rattles through her lips and she pauses, concidering surroundings that she's in. She continues to press past the sentients and towards Luke with a steady stride filled with purpouse. "Luke," She says aloud - perhaps louder than she'd ment to, and draws the curious gazes of a few of the beings around her. She stops before she's nearly atop the Jedi Master, the realization of the fact that he's engaged in a conversation brings her to pause. Clear eyes stricken with concern focus on her friend, and she exhales a lengthy breath and conciders before interjecting to speak. As Markus finishes his approach, he regards the stranger engaged with his companion in a conversation with certain curiosity. "I didn't mean to interru-", he stops as Feylin arrives and mentions the name. Markus frowns, considering for just a short moment. "Luke?", he asks, the thoughtful frown growing more marked. "Luke Skywalker?", the Corellian adds, tentatively. Markus looks at Feylin then, at Luke, and then at Simon. He blinks a few times. All this time, the white haired man has acted as the spokeperson of the little group. If this man is really Skywalker... Markus suddenly finds himself without words. His expression is a serious one, for this could represent the end of a long journey for his friends. And in a way, for him too. "Well, they were human, two men and a woman. That's about all I know," the Jedi wearing the lightsaber begins to explain before he is interrupted in two places at once. He blinks, startled as he rarely is, as his name is spoken by the young woman pushing her way toward them through the crowd. "Fey!" he calls, meeting her with a warm embrace that she seems to clearly not expect. Laughing, he glances at the Corellian who has joined the group, as he correctly concludes his identity. "Yes, I'm Luke Skywalker. Perhaps you were expecting me?" Despite the distraction by the girl, his eyes remain keen. "Oh, and this is my friend, Feylin Calenik." When Simon had met Tarroc D'agor, there had been a momentary hope and suspicion that the fellow was the Jedi Luke Skywalker. The meeting with Ethan had also had held some hope that the one he was speaking to was the hero Jedi, blind as he may have appeared to be. Both were soon easily dismissed, however. Neither one was as tall and imposing as Simon imagined the Jedi to be, and Ethan was not only blind, but coupled with a dog that was a blaspheme of nature. The bond between the Unborn and the True Source was enough abomination for any man that Simon knew in his heart that the Jedi Luke Skywalker would be as he was, a lover of life and freedom. And now, he found himself face to face with the man, and it had never crossed his mind to even suspect it. "It seems we have found each other," Simon says, slowly and quietly after Luke and Feylin break their embrace. His gaze flickers in Feylin's direction before he turns solemnly back to Luke. He bows to the man, fist and palm held together at chest level and eyes held up to continue to stare at the man being greeted. As he straightens, he drops his hands and says in formal tones, "I am Simon Sezirok, at your service. If it pleases you, I present Markus Lisardis, a Corellian." The last thing that Feylin expected was the warm reception, indeed, but after a short accusitory glance at Luke she turns her attentions to Simon, and now Markus. "A pleasure, of course." She offers forth with a warm smile before leaving the conversation entirely in the hands of the man with his arm snugly wrapped about her shoulder. She's overwhelmed by the situation, her thoughts nearly boiling over in her mind. But she simply smiles, and steals a pleading look at Luke when she sees the chance. So the search is over. Markus simply watches, and as Luke confirms his identity to him, the Corellian nods his head. For some reason, he still finds himself without words. The young man then shifts his attention so Simon, as Luke moves to embrace Feylin. A smile appears, although his nightmares were getting to the point of being almost unbearable, he understood that this meeting held more significance for Simon and than for him. It is because of that, that when a wave of pain assaults him from his ribcage, Markus does his best to hold it on check. His right arm slowly moves around the area, as if willing it to remain silent. He can't help emitting a faint grunting sound, one that he quickly tries to disguise with a chuckle. "That it seems...", he offers in agreement with Simon's statement about finding each other. "Well met.", he then adds, to both Luke and Feylin. The pain slowly goes away, which translates in the Corellian relaxing. "My friend and I have been looking for you, actually.", a pause and Markus smiles at Simon, "Separatedly at first, and we ended up bumping into each other, and decided to to the search together... And now we are here. There is another one of us, a girl going by the name of Mira", Markus stops, to try and see if he can pick up the young woman in the crowd, "I have no idea where she is right now, though." Giving Feylin's shoulder a light squeeze before he releases her with a reassuring smile, Luke focuses on the two young men, narrowing his eyes slightly as his smile grows calm and thoughtful. Despite being in slight in height and build, there is still an innate strength in his body, yet the intensity of his warm blue eyes hints at a power greater than anything phsical. He inclines his head politely as Simon introduces them both, and straightens his shoulders. "You've both come seeking me, haven't you? The Force has guided you well, especially since you've already met Ethan, my apprentice." His voice is grave, with a pleasantly calm quality that, despite his youth, evokes a sense of wisdom. Glancing at Feylin, his smile fades completely into a regretful frown. "He was the only survivor," he adds to her unasked question. The Corellian may try to hide his pain behind a stoic countenance, but Simon seems to notice nonetheless as his eyes shift to his friend. Just as Markus believed this meeting was more important to Simon, Simon believed this meeting was most important for Markus. If the Corellian were to stumble now from pain and for some reason be deemed unworthy to be trained... But the Jedi did not seem to take notice of Markus's discomfort, which may or may not be good. A slight frown furrows Simon's brow as he considers Luke's last remark. The man initially looked young, but Simon could easily see Luke as a Village Chief. His last comment had the same weight and feeling of a Village Chief speaking of crop failure. "We have been strong with the True Source, Jedi Luke Skywalker," Simon says, formally and gravely. He pauses once more to regard Feylin, weighing her to the ounce and measuring her to the inch with his cool gaze. There was more that Simon wanted to say, but he knew that the words were meant for the Jedi and Markus alone, yet. Finally, he settles on saying, "Markus Lisardis took injury saving the life and freedom of another. I have not the training of a _Selas_ healer, but perhaps you or one of your students could help him?" Grief contorts Fey's face and she nods slowly, her response a silent one, but obvious as she casts her eyes to the lush carpet at their feet. Not all of the students who she had grown to care for had been as lucky as Luke. She squeezes her hands into small fists and sighs, knowing that the time isn't right to sumbit to her overwhelmed emotions. "I'll be fine... It's just a minor thing.", Markus offers, as Simon comments on his injury, his Corellian blood coming to the front. "I'll be alright in no time.", the young man adds grinning. Just to have a wave of pain assault him, forcing him again to move his arms defensively over the area. "Or maybe not...", he accepts, and slowly moves to find a couch nearby. "If you excuse me, I need to sit down.", the Corellian says, trying to take in a deep breath as he does as said. He now goes over the words offered by Luke, "The Force? Guiding me?", he asks, arching an eyebrow. His brown eyes showing now pure curiosity. First Simon had hinted that he may have access to the True Source of his. Now Skywalker was stating that the Force had guided him? This was getting slightly confusing. The young man seems not to even think about Skywalker's last words, regarding his students until he notices Feylin's expresison. The young man frowns. The only survivor, Luke had said... Survivor of what? It dawns now into Markus, that although he doesn't have any idea what is going on between Luke and Feylin, something bad seems to have happened, not long ago. With slow an casual strides, another entirely black clad figure meanders into the lounge, his suit untainted. The suit, most definately recognizable on Coruscant for the past few months, owned and worn by it's sole proprieter, Bazil Ard'rian McKenzie, one of the most prominant figures of the Intelligence branches to date. Not counting the prior head-honchos, and the deceased, of course. It was a quite well known fact that many of Intel's best died of 'mysterious causes' before the age of fourty. And, it seems, the numbers of deaths had been steadily rising. And yet, even with that, Bazil managed to stay quite in the public spotlight, and stay alive. Of course, three of the very persons on the ship managed to help him overcome his death a few days past. Now, normally, Bazil wouldn't have returned to this ship. After all, he had quite the horrible experience the last time. But, luckily, certain unmentionables had happened, and now the ship was /quite/ safe for him to romp on. Especially with the total de grand of one confirmed Jedi aboard, and three hopefuls. But, as he slips in, he heads quite straight for the bar, his eyes wandering loosely around, almost bored. Finally, reaching the bar, he piques up to the 'tender, "Gimme a Corellian Whiskey, please." And, a few moments later, drink in hand, the Major swivels on the ball of his foot, and just looks. At everything. It had been a while. And it seems the new captain /had/ made some changes, after all. But, no matter. He locates his destination. The five persons who mill around, blabbing away about who knows what dealing with the schwartz. So, his course locked in, he sets thrusters to full, and begins another trek towards them. Putting his sorrows behind him has not been as strong an impulse in Luke as it is in his sister, and he finds it difficult to break away from the thoughts dredged up by mention of Ethan and the obvious grief in Feylin's eyes at the news. But Simon's words strike home, and he nods his head solemnly, and takes a few steps toward Markus just as the Corellian seems to double over and find a nearby seat. His hands, held slightly outward, fall to his sides as he hesitates, then closes his eyes. Reaching out silently and invisibly, the Jedi focuses his senses on the man's inflicted injury. The only outward sign of his concentration is a slight intake of breath as the damaged tissue is somehow mended more rapidly than the natural rate of healing. Or bacta, for that matter. When his eyes open slightly, he looks with true concern at Markus, gauging his reaction as well as his pysical condition. "Yes, the Force has guided all of you." The Force certainly guided Feylin. And in a very deliberate way, at that. What else could bring her worn, mourning self to the lounge of the Angry Rancor cruiseship in search of the only person who could help her find answers. She simply nods her agreement, and gauges the reaction of the two others that complete their little crowd. The dark mood brought on from Luke's mention of Ethan being the only survivor... of what, Simon couldn't say... was not lost on the outworlder. His friend's discomfort, however, took presedence, and as Markus goes from denial of the pain to finally admitting its existance, Simon's concern grows. He had seen a hunter take what appeared to be a minor injury, only to die a slow, painful death within a few days. If that were to happen to Markus... But then Luke is there, and Simon's attention shifts to the Jedi. Luke's intake of breath is followed by a gasp from Simon as he senses the flow of the True Source move through the Jedi. It was a raging, foaming river flowing through the blonde man, compared to the babbling brook he'd sensed in Ethan. Blinking, Simon says, "You are a dangerous man, Jedi Luke Skywalker." All Markus senses, is a pricking sensation on the back of his neck. And right now, the pain he is feeling on his ribs is probably more important, than anything weird he might be feeling. Unless the nightmares decided to take over right now, of course, in which case... A small sigh, he didn't want to think about that. Then Luke approaches him. His usual reaction, would be to to move away from the extended hands. For some reason, he doesn't do this. Instead, he blinks once, as the pain slowly flows out from him. He still feels sore, but definitely not the intense waves he was feeling before and that very Corellian like, he was hiding from everyone. "The Force...", Markus finds himself whispering, frowning as he tries to understand what is going on. If the man in front of him was able to help in healing him physically, would he be able to heal his spirit too? Markus nods his head towards Luke, but finds himself looking at Simon more. Waiting for every reaction from his friend and companion. The last statement makes the Corellian wonder, but as he turns his head around, trying to get Luke's response he catches sight of something else. Bazil... "Bazil...", in fact the only word he brings himself to say.
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