Jedi Quarters, Palioxis Station Kiast System
Turel paced in front of the room’s star-filled window holding his secure datapad. He had been reviewing the updated deckplans for the Pride of Owyhyee to see what the Daleem Shipwright’s guild had been able to do with the old girl. Had it really been a decade since the Knights of Allusis had first “liberated” the ship during the battle of Purity Rock?
Man, I’m old. The Jedi Master thought as he reflected back on those days as a young(er) padawan, fresh in the Force and eager to prove himself. He made a mental note to tell Syrena the harrowing tale of how the Knights stole the Pride from a ruthless mercenary group.
Turel’s train of thought was interrupted by his comlink activating with a protocol droid’s voice, “Knights of Allusis personnel please report to docking port besh at your earliest convenience”
“Well, looks like they’re ready to give us the grand tour,” Turel remarked as he stowed his datapad and went to join the rest of the team.
“Now we are ready to sail for the core,” Jon whistled as he strolled through the docking bay, hands in his pockets and the brim of his hat pulled low. “Wa-aay, roll and go. Our blasters and breathers are all in the hold. Rollickin’ randy, dandy ooh.”
It was an old tune Jon had picked up around somewhere in Wild Space ages ago. He was in a singin’ mood tonight. He was eager to see this grand old ship that was the setting of so many tales told ‘round Kiast.
“Come start the engines and heave her away,” he hummed as he walked with a skip in his step around the corner, as workers and droids halled to and fro from every corner of Brotherhood-controlled space. “Soon we’ll be soarin’ down the hyperspace lanes.”
His eyes lighted on a group of familiar figures standing outside a locked docking rig, the shutters pulled low so that no one could see what lay beyond.
He grinned as he walked in, waving to his fellow Knights.
“Rollickin’ randy dandy ooooh!” he hummed one last note before approaching.
Palioxis Station. It had become a second home of sorts for The Arcadia and her crew. Just now it was on one of the other docking rings being refueled and restocked.
A small, disreputable-looking woman walked down along a different corridor, violet eyes watching everything from beneath a wide-brimmed black hat. The long green coat flapped in the breeze of her own movement. A report had crossed her path now that long ago.
The Pride was being refitted and put back into service. A time for celebration indeed as she shook the large bottle of golden liquor she carried.
Always bring a guest gift, she had been taught both as a child and during her time as a paid killer. On the one hand it was just good manners and on the second it was good manners and a good way to get close.
Thankfully the days of the latter were long over. She adjusted the black scarf around her neck and looked through the viewport beside her at the corvette waiting for its passengers. “A beautiful girl. It’s better for you to be out and free.”
With a smile for The Pride, Miho settled in to wait for those for whom this fine ship also awaited, wondering who they would see first.
Her bright silver gaze observed the docking bay with an expression of awe. A white silk cloak billowed behind her, crystalline embellishments shimmering within the fabric. Her pale pink hair fell in a cascade of icy waves, loosely swept over one shoulder.
So this is the famed Pride of Owyhyee, the Knight-Commander couldn’t help but think to herself as she began to take it all in, though she mostly looked forward to learning more about the Vessel alongside the rest of the fellow Knights.
Leaning against the side of a wall in a relaxed manner, she carefully began to tune her instrument, a seven stringed hallikset pure white in color, with a few accents inlayed with silver and gold. A pleasant tune being hummed immediately caught her attention, and she couldn’t help but pause to listen. Though Syrena was unfamiliar with it, she was able to infer that it was perhaps a spacefaring shanty, through a quick mental study of the chord progression.
A slow smile curved across her lips, as her fingertips began to swiftly move across the strings of her familiar instrument. Syrena played a series of melodic notes, complimenting those within Jon’s song. As he hummed the note to the last verse, she harmonized alongside him and played one last chord. Setting her instrument down, Syrena gazed over at her fellow Knight through curious bright silver eyes. “That was lovely, Jon! It’s always nice to play music alongside others, when time allows for it. Where is that song from?”
As she awaited his answer, it was then that she spotted another all too familiar face– The Proconsul herself. Syrena gave her a friendly wave, her gaze shifting towards the large bottle of gold liquor, and what looked to be quite an expensive one at that. “What an unexpected pleasure it is to see you again, Miho! Welcome aboard,” She greeted with a smile. “Love that scarf, by the way.”
With her gaze shifting towards Turel, Syrena began to address him next. “I presume we’ll learn where odds and ends such as where glasses are kept, on this grand tour? The Proconsul was kind enough to bring us some drinks.”
“And I do look forward to hearing the tale behind this grand vessel,” She couldn’t help but add with a smile.
An Older Man dressed in an engineer’s well-worn uniform looking between his datapad and his watch. He was asked to escort his old friend to the rechristening event. It was on his 4th review of the datapad and the work orders he and his men completed in the last few days when the Air lock finally opened with his old friend Edgar Drachen standing on the other side.
“Welcome my old friend it’s been a while since I’ve seen you?” the engineer said with a smile on his face.
“Mr. Archie Mc Gregor, by the force it has been a very long time. I haven’t seen you since I was forced to reassign Hoth’s fleet so many years ago. I’m happy to see you!”
“I’m well and let’s walk and talk the Knight Commander will be waiting for us” and with an arm gesture Archie started to lead his old boss towards the docks just as the announcement came over the speakers “Knights of Allusis personnel please report to docking port besh at your earliest convenience”.
The two chatted a little bit with the old engineer telling tales of the ships he was assigned to and what they had both been up to since Hoth was deactivated. As they got closer to the Docking port Edgar finally asked “Ok, so I know the Knights got a ship, and like always the message I got from my dear Commander and that womp rat Turel was just being ordered to come to the shakedown cruise but neither one told me what ship we got or any details. Just a simple show up and you will be greeted by an old friend.’ Edgar looking at Archie “I have a feeling they didn’t mean you, even though I’m happy to see you”.
“Correct Mr. Drachen, I was sent to collect you for two reasons, the first was to make sure you didn’t get lost Turel insisted you come straight to the Docking port or you’d find a way to wander off.” Edgar walking alongside the man just smiled and nodded then his companion continued.
“The second was to give you a hint to the answer to your questions. Do you remember the last posting I had before we were reassigned?”
Edgar had to think a minute and then looking up he could see the Knights gathering and just then Turel caught his eye and smiled. He then nodded towards the window. The grey Jedi was confused but looked out the window and saw an old CR90 Corvette without having to see the full name Edgar knew the ship very well, he looked over the ship every dent and there was a very distinct panel that was damaged during the evacuation of New Tython that McGregor reassured him that his standing order of not repairing it still remains.
Edgar for one of the few times in his life was speechless and chocking back some emotion just simply said “Welcome Home old girl”. Turning towards the engineer with a smile he put his arm around the man and started walking to the assembled group. The old grey Jedi looked up to Turel and Syrena with a little tear in his eye he silently mouthed “Thank You”, to the both of them.
“Wait until you see the bar,” Turel replied to Edgar and Syrena. “I’ll save the harrowing tale of how the Knights ‘acquired’ this fine vessel until after everyone has a chance to look around.”
A gray protocol droid sauntered past the assembled group to the docking hatch leading to the Pride before turning around to address Syrena. “Greetings Knight-Commander and honored guests, I am HWK-2A and I am honored to serve as one of the protocol droids assigned to this vessel. We are currently operating on a skeleton crew and are scheduled to pick up the remainder of the ship’s complement later but the ship is space-worthy and ready for the Knights of Allusis to take possession.” The droid hit a button on the wall causing the large hatch to slowly open revealing the interior of the Pride. “The airlock leads to the crew deck but if you take the lift just to the left to deck B I can show you the facilities dedicated to the Knights of Allusis.”
<@607619766752116771> <@224731543153803264>
“It is always a treat to be able to hear all the tales of the Knight’s long standing history,” Syrena replied with a smile, her silver gaze already shimmering with a curious look. She followed alongside her peers, next looking towards the protocol droid that approached them.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, HWK-2A, and that is a wonderful update indeed,” Syrena said optimistically. She next gazed towards Edgar, listening to him.
“I’m just glad to see you happy,” Syrena said to the Jedi Knight with a warm smile. Given their last escapade against the pirates, she felt relieved that they had all together returned victoriously, to enjoy this very moment for the Pride’s return.
As the tour continued, Syrena gazed at the main interior of the Pride, struck by the sheer grandeur of it. “This refurbishment has truly come together so beautifully. I commend the skills of each mechanic, and the engineer behind it.”
Just as HWK-2A had suggested, she soon found herself at the lift. As the door opened, Syrena entered inside, pausing to wait for those who wished to follow. “Our very own facilities, you say? Now this I look forward to seeing.”
As the tour group moved onto the ship Edgar could be mentally transported back to his first time stepping on this ship. It was so very long ago now and he was still a fresh young face within the clan and back then he was under Turel’s leadership as Knight Commander. The Knights just accomplished their mission of taking down Purity Rock, one of the worst concentration camps he had ever seen from the inside, and then escaped on this very ship.
I can still hear the sounds of battle as they hurried aboard to the engines firing up to make our escape. Then as he was becoming lost in his memories Edgar quickly caught Jon’s eyes looking at him very concerned. The Grey Jedi was snapped back to the present with a stumble and a start. “Edgar, you ok? What’s wrong?” Jon reached out and caught his arm as an instinctive reaction.
Taking a second he looked at the young raider. “I’m good Jon, thank you, my friend. I’m good this ship just brings back a lot of memories. Which as our host will tell you all about soon enough. Isn’t that right Turel?” Looking at his old friend sternly he asked “So let me get this straight you purposely hid the fact you got this ship back for us and waited to unveil it till right after I spent more time in prison for the Knights?”
“To be fair, you going to prison is hardly a rare occurrence,” Turel retorted with a smirk. “I’m just lucky the higher ups were receptive to my "historical” arguments for KoA to get the ship back.“
HWK-2A ignored the pair and continued showing the group the facilities on B deck, "and here you will see the state of the art conference room for team use.”
Turel interjected the question that was on everyone’s mind, “we can look at the business stuff later, can you skip ahead to the cantina?” He turned toward Edgar, “you’ll love this.”
“Very well,” the droid sighed at it sauntered down the hall leading the group toward the ships new cantina. “The cantina is fully stocked but still requires a name.”
“Oooh, ooh, oooh!” Jon crowed as he rushed over to the bar. “I love naming things, how about… the Speak Easy? It’s what smugglers call a cantina where they can sell their… less than cosher stock.”
He poured himself a glass of something that looked strong, and took a swig. He tasted it for a moment, before looking scornfully at the bottle.
“Although we might need to stock up on something hits a little harder than this.”
“Hey, Turel I’m going to take a quick walk I’ll catch up with you all at the “Wily Lady”, or at least that’s my idea for a name. Anyway, I’ll be back before your big speech”.
With that heading down the hall took the life down to C deck and headed straight to port side airlock. Once he got there he opened the storage room and found exactly what he expected and a very small part of him hoped he wouldn’t. A nice newly refurbished storage closet with all the fixings.
Dejected Ed looked at the corner of the room he knew there to be a still and felt sad. “I guess there will be no more homemade Owyhyee Whiskey. It wasn’t the best stuff but it was ours.” Looking around he left the room and headed back to the lift “Well old girl it has been a few years so I couldn’t expect anyone but a Hoth Member to take good care of you.
With that, the old Quaestor stepped into the life and headed back to the Cantina.
As the Knights approached the Cantina, a smile lit across Syrena’s face as she took in the sight of it. She paused for a moment, listening to the names that both Jon and Edgar volunteered in amusement.
“I suppose we could always combined the two names… The Wily Lady Speakeasy… Or, the Wily Speak Easy… Actually, I kinda like the sound of that one….” Syrena began to muse, speaking her thoughts aloud.
She paused for a moment, apprehensively eyeing the liquor stocked within the cantina. It was all so temping. Syrena set the large bottle that the Proconsul had gifted them atop the bar counter, gazing at it.
“I recently read in my scripture that Jedi aren’t supposed to drink… Something about weakening their connection to the Force…” She began to say slowly. “Except right now, the Force seems to be telling me that it would be a damn shame to let all this fine liquor go to waste!”
And with that, Syrena popped off the top to the bottle, pouring the fine golden liquor into several shot glasses, passing them around to each of the Knights and taking one for herself.
“Speaking of harder drinks, Jon… Bottoms up!” She chimed happily as she tilted her head back, downing the shot. The liquor was relatively smooth, with a faint burn at the finish.
“Thankfully the Proconsul brought us the good stuff.”
Realizing someone was missing, Syrena wandered for a bit once she finished her glass, spotting the familiar old Knight.
“Ah, there you are, Edgar,” Syrena began to say with a warm smile as she offered him a glass, overhearing his sentiment. “It’s no Owyhyee Whiskey, but it’s still good nonetheless.”
“But speaking of Owyhyee Whiskey, perhaps we would go on a side quest in the future to procure a distillery, to produce it once again? Could maybe earn us some nice side cash, and pay homage to an old tradition,” She began to suggest to the Knights, one they were all back in the Cantina.
“Jedi aren’t supposed to drink?” Turel gasped with exaggerated offense. His face shifted to a smile, “you’ll find Jedi doctrine varies by author and time period. There’s ‘scripture’ that says Jedi shouldn’t marry yet for thousands of years before the Ruusaan reformation they married and had children. The Clone Wars era council greenlit Master Ki-Adi-Mundi having four wives.” He shrugged. “On the subject of drinking, I can show you some holocrons from Master Quinlan Vos, also from the clone wars era, where he talks about cantinas being his favorite places to meditate.” Turel picked up the shot glass Syrena had handed him and downed it with practiced ease, “I think the real point is less rigidly following ancient rules and more that taking anything to excess can be a path to the dark side.”
“That’s…. A relief to know!” Syrena exclaimed happily as she listened to Turel’s words with a look of relief, pausing to pour another glass for herself. She quickly downed the shot, savoring the mild burn that came with it.
A more relaxed look shone in her gaze as she thought on what he had said.
“Master Quinlan Vos? He sure sounds like a fun dude. Where are such holocrons kept?” She couldn’t help but ask curiously. “Ah, right… the dark side… truth be told, I was a Force Disciple for a long while, still learning how all this Jedi business and whatnot works… lots of scripture reading, though some of it has been quite enjoyable.”
“See, I never would have the patience for that kind of thing,” Jon said qd he reclined against one seat with a glass held casually in one hand. “Sitting around reading, meditating… There’s a whole galaxy out there to see! Whose got time to sit in some monastery pondering the meaning of the cosmos when you can go see the cosmos with your own eyes?”
Syrena looked over at Jon for a moment, listening to his words. Her silver gaze grew distant with thought, as his words sparked several memories through her mind.
“After I managed to gain my freedom, there was once a time… Not too long ago actually, where I had wanted nothing more than to travel the galaxy endlessly… I never would’ve pictured myself tied down to anyone or anything. Including a clan,” She began with a soft laugh, swirling her glass.
“I had spent most of my time traveling between parties, or going on tours with various Holostars and bands to be their opening act… And who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll get to go on tour again…” Syrena continued, refilling both her glass and Jon’s with more liquor.
“But… I’m content where I am right now. It’s a nice change of pace to finally have a sense of belonging. To finally have a place to call home, here alongside you all in House Hoth.”
Jon chuckled, almost inaudibly, reclining back against the seat of the couch. He let his head slump back against the rest, eyes on the ceiling but looking past it. He felt the warmth of the whiskey burning in him.
“Home,” he said wistfully. “Now there’s a novel concept if ever I’ve heard one. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place for more than a month. Not since I was a teen on Coruscant.”
He sat back up and took another sip of the whiskey. The lightsaber strapped to his belt felt heavier, but it was a weight he was slowly getting accustomed to these last few months.
“My home is on the hyperspace lanes, always and forever. But… having a place to come back to in between is not the worst thing in the galaxy.”